#hopefully blessing and such will come my way but at last...

[cogitrot]

I've never been part of a Fallen London event before and I know this one just started but I am having SO much fun. My stats are in a really awkward place for this event (less than 70, WAY higher than 20) and I have no idea what any of these things are for and only the vague guarantee that some major catastrophe looms on the horizon, but that does not matter. I'm hiding under tablecloths with my little mushroom, and all is well.

[windixie]

nerdjo x reader ⟢ real man

"... did you know that a quasar emits more energy in a second than our sun will in its entire lifetime?"

"uh... sure?"

༄.° pairing . nerd! gojo x popular! reader (f)

⤷ summary . a low grade lands you a tutor session with the nerdiest boy at your university with the help of the best wingman, your professor, who knows that gojo is your only way of improving that 59.6% in your physics class. your annoyance soon turns into admiration and maybe something else as you find yourself enjoying the late night study sessions. but what happens when the physic sessions turn into sex education?

warning ⓘ tags . (18+), porn with plot me thinks, smut, gojo will give you second hand embarrassment bless his soul, protected sex that will lead to unprotected, masturbation, praise kink, oral, p in v, cream pie. sub gojo heh. jealous gojo. perv gojo. obsessive gojo.

⤷ wc . 4k (not proofread)

a/n . this is my first actual attempt to writing good smut. never got the hang of it so hopefully this turns out good. the 59.6% is specific because that is MY current grade and I might just kms if nerdjo doesn't help me out.

a/n . 2 I enjoyed writing the friendship buildup more than the actual smut :p

waking up to an email sent by your physics professor was not the best way to start off the day.

"you've got to be kidding me.." you grumbled, with your morning voice attempting to read the title of the email as your blurry eyes adjusted to the bright screen of your phone. you weren't surprised when the subject was that you are being assigned a tutor. you were aware of your current grade, but you swore you would be able to raise it up. right after partying.

your roommate, and long term friend, peaks over your shoulder as she buttoned up her pants. "yikes, I'm surprised he hasn't admitted you to a tutor earlier, haven't you had the same grade for a while now?"

you sighed knowing she was right. your grade hasn't gone up even a percentage for the past two weeks.

'meet me in class before it begins today, perhaps 10 minutes before, ill be introducing you to your tutor and we'll discuss how things will work.'

and that's how you found yourself standing in front of your teachers desk awkwardly. "he'll be here soon, he's very punctual."

you nodded in acknowledgment. you wanted to play it safe and come a few minutes earlier than the given time written on the email. '10 minutes before class'. the said class begins at 9:40. it is currently 9:28.

he was punctual alright. the moment it struck the half hour, the door swung open to reveal a tall boy- no, a really tall boy. he had white hair and blinding blue eyes behind dorky glasses. despite his nerdy look, the boy had a few facial piercings. one on his eyebrow and his lip.

that's hot.

"satoru! come in, come" your professor gestured the boy to be next to you. satoru offered a small, shy wave, which you responded with a warm smile.

"so as we all know, y/n isn't doing so well in this class." you cringed feeling your face heat up. being exposed in front of someone as smart as satoru was the ultimate humiliation.

"here's what's going to happen. there is an upcoming review test before the final. you pass that and im 99.9 percent sure that you will pass the final with enough studying. I'll leave satoru to decide how the tutoring will work, but I expect you both to meet up at least four times a week."

four times a week? four times? a week. great.

session 1.

you dragged your body into the library with your tote bag full of textbooks and practice worksheets. the library was fairly crowded with students studying for upcoming exams. you being one of them.

making your way deeper into the study area, your eyes landed on gojo who was setting up the table with his headphones plugged in. you approached him but he didn't notice you.

"satoru..?"

no answer. he was in a completely different world with the way he was humming a tune which only brought you to your last resort.

you poked his shoulder lightly which caused him to jump a little, looking over his shoulder to meet eyes with you.

"oh! hi uhm im sorry..! I didn't notice you I was just uh setting up the table. is this place okay with you? we can always pick somewhere else if your uncomfortable with being way too-"

"no no its fine with me." you interrupted his babbling which you found endearing.

"right." he chuckled before sitting down which you followed.

"alright so what exactly are you struggling with?" he asked.

what are you struggling with? "everything" you answered honestly looking at the organized textbooks- all related to physics and.. digimon?

"so.. we can start off with the basics of fundamentals of motion. such as speed and distance and maybe add in some kinematic equations. you are familiar with newtons law, right?"

you nodded as you recalled to the only thing you remembered from this god awful class.

"okay so we can skip that.. but ill still explain a little bit of it towards the end, just to make sure."

that's how you spent your first session with the boy. he's amazing at explaining, learning more from him than any past lectures. the way he is so into it you can't help but space out at the way his lips move.

"for the equations, there are a few of them, ill give you three examples then write one of each so you can practice."

your eyes fixated at the way he neatly wrote down the letters.

"so uhm.. do I multiply or-"

"you subtract this from both sides."

"got it."

this was definitely going to take a while if you couldn't even handle the basics. you handed him back the sheet where you attempted the problems.

"seems like you have a bit of difficulty deriving the equations."

you sighed. how long has it been? forty minutes? and hour?

checking your phone you were surprised to see that only 15 minutes have passed?

'just kill me at this point' you thought.

"hey hey, no phones. can't have you getting distracted, hand it over"

"I was just checking the time! don't take it away pleaseee" you begged.

"you'll be tempted to check the time every five seconds, just hand it over." you reluctantly placed it in his hand. his fingers brushed against yours and you were surprised to see how soft his were.

"lets try again. this time ill watch you solve them so I can see where you start to go wrong."

2 hours have gone by and you finally grasped how to solve the equations involving motion and acceleration.

"good job!" the praise boosted up your confidence. "only took ya thirty practice problems but you got there." he teased as he adjusted his glasses. "thanks satoru." you rolled your eyes at him.

the way you said his name went straight into his head. both of them actually.

"we should wrap it up for today"

he reached into his bag pulling out a few sheets before sliding them to you. "try and finish these by wednesday, which will be our next session. oh-" the pale boy reached for his examples. "use these for reference if you forget again."

accepting the papers, you placed them in your folder before tucking it back into your bag. "thank you, I know i'm not the easiest to teach."

"non sense. you're the first person i've tutored to actually have motivation to learn."

"you've tutored others?" you tilted your head.

"course I have. anyways, study what we've gone over today. here's my phone number-"

"youre going to have to give me back my phone in order for that" you chuckled. it felt like satorus world paused for a second as he saw your smile.

"uh right.. sorry"

it felt great to have your beautiful cellular device in the comfort of your hands.

"I usually ignore my messages.. can I give you my instagram instead?" you asked.

satoru was a bit disappointed to not be able to have your phone number, but your insta was just as good. that way he'd be able to see pictures of you.

you both exchanged users, you with your whopping 2.3k followers and him with his 40. 41 including you.

he noticed that out of the 2.3k people that follow you, you only follow around 90. he felt honored that he would be one of the lucky ones to be blessed with your follow.

"great!" satoru couldn't help the dorky grin that crept up on his face. "text me if you have any issues with the work, mkay?"

multiple sessions have passed.

you felt yourself warm up with the boy, learning more about him and his nerdy interests and the upcoming 'name as many digimon characters as you can' contest that he's pumped for explained the character book you'd see every time you met up at the library.

which you both eventually ditched after accidentally catching a couple doing... activities one shouldn't be doing in a quiet environment.

satoru couldn't help but wish that was you and him.

you both settled for a nearby cafe where he always paid for your drinks and sugary treat which he's memorized by now.

"we should go over the vocabulary today" his fingers skimmed through several papers before pulling one out that had the key to all the words you had to remember.

you were progressing and you felt confident for the review and final which were both in three months.

"here write down the words on a separate sheet and try to answer them to see which you know and which you don't."

outside of your tutor sessions, you began saying hi to each other in the hallways, exchanging small smiles in class, and late night texts.

satoru [ 10: 37 PM]

-you complete the worksheets?

you [ 10: 40 PM]

-hi! I just need to finish up the last one then im all done

satoru [ 10: 41 PM]

-thats good, mind sending me what you've done?

you [ 10 : 45 PM]

[image attached]

-im actually at a party right now..

that led to a scolding from him the next day. he couldn't care less actually no matter how many times he said to restrain yourself from partying for now because of your studies. in reality, he just didn't want any boy to see you wearing whatever revealing outfit you decided to put on.

satoru would be lying that he wouldn't feel the way his inexperienced cock would harden whenever he would see the way your skirt would ride up your thighs as you sat so prettily in front of him.

you were completely unaware of how much you affected the poor boy.

"so how'd the contest go?"

"I won obviously. named all 1400 of em." he put his hands up in victory.

you laughed at how cute you found it. him being proud over beating a bunch of kids?

"what was the price?"

"a limited edition card. super rare by the way, you have like one in a thousand chance of getting it. here! I have it on me actually."

he pulled out a card that resembled Pokemon cards which he would get annoyed when you got the two of them mixed up.

"this is the ghost bt1 diamond. you can pick one out of any Digimon of your opponent or you can delete all the Digimon if they share a name with it."

his eyes lit up whenever he talked about his interests. and you loved that about him.

"sounds cool, how much is it worth?"

"hmm I think like 300 at most."

"yeah well I remember my brother has a Pokemon card that's worth 78 grand."

"do your damn work."

as you prepared to leave, he stopped you.

"here."

he handed you the digimon card making your eyes widen.

"you're giving it to me?"

"mhm, just remembered I already have a similar card that does the exact same as this one. no need for me to have it. besides I think it would look great on your phone case."

now, whenever he takes away your phone for your study time, he can't help but smile when he looked at the card neatly placed inside the clear case with a few stickers around it.

he’d find himself late at night in the comfort of his own dorm, with his hand hesitantly palming his growing bulge at the sight of your story. the picture was of you smiling cutely at the cafe you both went at. a picture he took.

you looked gorgeous. you are gorgeous.

he doesn't remember the last time he's jerked off. maybe once in high school when his favorite cosplayer dressed up as a beloved female character of his?

pulling out his needy length, he imagined it was you. a finger grazed upon his tip smearing the pre-cum a bit as he let out a few whimpers. would you hate him if you saw him like this? all horny and pent up because of your post? or would you help him?

no matter how much he stroked himself, he just couldn't finish. he needed you.

his eyes skimmed through various websites to help his situation out.

‘how to have the best orgasm in your life’

‘best stroking methods’

‘how the female anatomy works and how to pleasure it’

‘man finishes threehu-‘

wait what was that? he scrolls back up a bit clicking on the female anatomy one. he was met with several images. diagrams showing where the most pleasurable part was for a woman.

gojo hasn���t done this much studying since his calculus exam back in elementary. who the hell let’s a seven year old solve that shit?!

by the end of the day, his brain is now stuffed with knowledge on how to pleasure you. still zero clue on how he’s ever going to bust.

2 days.

2 days until you review test and you were.. stressed to say the least. thankfully you have gone over everything from the semester and gojo made sure that you were well prepared even offering to make you a cheat sheet, allowed by the professor, to help you out during the test just in case.

"toru."

fuck. when did you begin calling him that nickname? it made gojo feel lightheaded to the point where he had to grip the end of his chair as you approached him.

"hey I was wondering if we could study at my place tonight?" you asked sweetly.

“your place..? like, where you live?”

“I hope so?” you giggled.

“y-yeah i guess but why?”

you took a seat next to him placing your bag next to your feet on the floor.

“walked past the cafe and saw that it was closed due to some renovations”

“god i hope it’s the bathroom sink. that thing sprayed me”

you both laugh at the memory of him coming out the bathroom with his hair sticking to his forehead and clothes dampened. that was the first time you’ve seen him without his glasses.

you preferred him with them on.

but you couldn’t deny that either way he still looked so handsome especially when he rolled up his now wet sleeves of his black sweater revealing veins that adorned his arms.

“I hope so. anyways I’ll text you the address later.. or actually, we can walk together if you’d like?” you offered and who was he to decline?

“sure sweetheart.”

gojo recently picked up the habit of calling you sweet names which never failed in making your stomach leap in happiness. where’s he get the sudden habit?

‘how to fluster a girl.com’

god knows where.

your house wasn’t far from the campus since you’ve been planning on attending this university ever since you were a kid due to living 20 minutes away at a walking distance.

“my parents are away at a trip so we’ll have the house to ourselves”

fuck yeah.

“they doing a business trip or..?”

“it’s their anniversary. they flew out to france and didn’t even bother inviting me” you rolled your eyes playfully making the pierced boy laugh. he recently switched out his lip piercing after his last one fell off while drinking his coffee.

he took in your house as you arrived. looking at the memories plastered on the walls. this is where you grew up..

“want anything eat?”

you.

he shook his head. “I’m alright, I ate something not long ago.” you hummed while walking upstairs, him trailing behind just to get a glimpse up your skirt seeing the pink laced panties that made him let out a low groan. his pants were uncomfortable by the time you reached your room. it was a warm environment, posters on the walls, stuffed animals on the bed. the bed he would love to fuck you in.

“s’cute” he complimented placing his bag down before he stretched out his lanky body on your bed.

his sweater slipped up a bit revealing his v line as well as his white happy trail. your breath hitched as your eyes trailed down the patch of hair before landing on the raging boner that he had. no way.

was he hard?

despite having past experience yourself, no one has ever made you finish.

gojo propped himself on both his arms. “let’s just review what I taught you at the beginning first to freshen up your memory.” you barely took in anything he said as you approached the bed as well sitting down next to him before you felt bold. you shifted sitting down on his lap instead.

satoru let out a gasp before moaning. his hands found your hips immediately. “fuck.. what are you-“ he was cut off by your subtle grinding.

“we shouldn’t..” your heart sank a bit. “you don’t want this..? I’m just trying to help you toru.”

“I know baby but I haven’t.. well I’m.. I’ve never done t-this before, god..” he mumbled embarrassed. oh so that’s what this is. he’s a virgin. “I don’t mind.. let me help you”

“please-“

“shh..” you tugged at his jeans bringing down to his knees. “You’ve never done this before?” you asked letting your acrylics tease him through his digimon boxers.

“no.. no please fuck..”

his cute whimpers went straight to your heat as you finally tugged down his boxers only to be met with the biggest cock you’ve seen. it slapped his stomach the second it was released. he was thick. the pretty pink tip was slowly turning an angry red color as he panted.

you wrapped your hand around him stroking up and down his base watching him twitch. while keeping eye contact, you let some spit fall down his cock making him moan as you used your drool as lube. his hips bucked up as he felt the warmth of your mouth around him.

“t-that’s it..”

for the first time, your lips met in a sweet and needy kiss, your hand still working wonders on him. he placed a shaking hand on your ass cupping it making sure not to break the heated kiss.

“can.. can you ride me?” the way he asked shyly made you want to ruin him even more. you nodded watching him pull off his sweater. now by all means you had zero clue that this man was built as if god made him with his own hands. you did the same, quickly undressing before he stopped you.

“please.. please keep the panties on”

“you like em?”

“fucking love them.”

after carefully placing a condom you found in your drawer on him, you guided his tip to grind just right against you. “lift up your hips a bit toru.. just move them.. back.. and forth.. good job love”

the praise didn’t help Gojos situation at all. “keep praising me..” at this point his glasses were all fogged up. your finger hooked into your panties slipping them to the side so you could slip his cock in.

“so big..” you cood

“oh god, you’re right.. fuckkk baby wait.. wait wait” he moaned filling up the room with lewd noises. the plap, plap, plap echoed. large hands found your waist helping you ride him at a quick pace.

“shit.. you’re better than I imagined.” he groaned out biting your neck sweetly. “you’ve imagined.. this? ngh!” you were surprised to see him pick up the pace. “all the time.”

gojo thought back to the website he visited frequently. his finger found your clit circling it before rubbing it repeatedly. you head fell on his shoulder as you began to shake from overstimulation. “Toru..!”

“this is where you’re weak, right? most girls have an orgasm immediately after teasing the clit”

“ngh.. nerd..!”

“so sensitive”

the raspiness in his voice was enough to make you finish. for the first time ever. gojos hips stuttered as he pulled out watching your juices spill out. he brought his fingers to his mouth tasting you. “you taste good babe”

panting, you removed the condom from his still hard length before slipping him back in.

he wasn’t even half way in before ropes of cum went inside you making gojo close his eyes letting tears of being overstimulated fall down his pretty flushed cheeks.

“be my girl..”

four things happened that day.

you came for the first time

you took away gojos virginity

you were both now dating

you didn’t study at all

but the cheat sheet did help you out a bit. after finishing up the last question, gojo walked over to the teachers desk placing it on top of it. he was the first one out of everyone to finish, like always. he looked up to where you were seated.

there you were, more focused than ever biting your nail as you answered the equations as if it was muscle memory. he was proud, smiling to himself before leaving the classroom.

toru ! [ 7: 45 AM ]

-results are in today 👀

you [ 7:46 AM]

-im nervous… i think i failed it bro im so scared toru

toru ! [ 7: 48 AM]

-I doubt that sweetheart

and he was right because the second you received back your paper with a beautiful 92% written on top of it you felt like you were in heaven. you ran towards gojo wrapping your arms around him excitedly.

“I did it! look!” you showed him your paper.

“told you. good job am proud of ya” he grinned as he once again felt his cock throb at the way you were squeezing him. “what’d you get?”

“100%”

“show off.”

he barked out a laugh before placing his hands on your hips. “we should celebrate.” he suggested. “with cake?” he hummed tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before letting his thumb rub on your cheek affectionately. “sure pretty.”

[charliemwrites]

Part 2!

Finally finished moving house so hopefully I’ll be updating semi-regularly again.

Content: brief and non-descriptive explanation of Rasputin’s backstory (injury and illness)

Agatha is over again.

You don’t know why. She doesn’t like you, your cats, or anything as far as you can tell. It seems her primary motivation for talking to you at all is to exercise her role as neighborhood matriarch. She “keeps tabs” on everyone, but especially you - the unmarried woman living alone that keeps odd hours.

A rebellious part of you wants to roll your eyes and make snarky comments whenever she sniffs at your life choices. The same part of you that would make scenes at holiday dinners or slam doors when you were a teenager. That girl has long been smoothed and polished - or maybe just worn down. It’s so much effort to make rude, nosy, traditionalists clutch their pearls. Much easier to smile in their face and do what you want anyway.

Still, that part of you itches at the surface sometimes. Makes your eye twitch.

“I know your generation is different but that’s just not the type of neighborhood we live in,” she’s saying.

You’re a bit foggy from a late night patching plotholes and haven’t registered much of anything she’s said. You really just want to go inside and stare at the TV until words make sense again.

“What do you mean?” you ask, for once not feigning your confusion. But of course this is the one time she doesn’t buy it.

She looks down her frail little nose at you, cornflower blue eyes baleful. You don’t feel scolded, but you sense that you’re supposed to.

“Now you know just what I mean. People will talk.”

People always talk, it’s an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition. Like a deaf bird, you’ve never understood all the chatter.

“Talk about… the buttercups?” you wonder, pointing at the blossoms. You’re quite proud of them actually.

Agatha puffs up and hisses out a breath. “You ought to keep to this side of the street. Away from those men.”

You blink. Men…?

A bang comes from across the street, followed by rough German cursing. (At least you think it’s cursing.)

Ah. Those men.

“I was just welcoming them to the neighborhood.”

It comes out of your mouth automatically, innocent excuses for something you remind yourself you don’t need to justify.

“I’d rather they didn’t feel welcome,” she snips. “Better they sell that awful house and go somewhere else.”

You flick your eyes over her bony shoulder. Konig passes by a window, massive biceps on display as he lifts something outside of view.

“They’re nice,” you say. Nice to look at. Krueger’s face alone quite makes up for his conversational shortcomings.

“The only reason men like that act nice is because they want something,” Agatha snaps. “This is a respectable neighborhood.”

Yeah, soooo respectable when Bertram rifles through your mail or Lisa looks into your backyard.

“Well,” you muse, “better to be on good terms with them, I think. They're not the type you want to piss off.”

That defiant streak lights up at the way her face sours. If only she knew what sort of words you use when it’s just you and the cats.

“You’ve just proven my point. Those are not the type of men young ladies should associating themselves with.”

You have to try very hard not to scrunch up your face. One blessed day, people will stop referring to you as “young lady” in that insufferably condescending tone. You can’t wait for that day.

Some of your mounting irritation must show on your face because she takes on a sickly sweet “teaching” tone.

“Neighborhoods are like gardens. Everything grows best when the rows are kept separate. That’s why the farmers plant them that way.”

You glance pointedly at your own yard, where the flowers are blooming in haphazard sprigs wherever you tossed the seeds. Agatha’s lips get thin.

“Best that you stay on this side of the street, missy. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.”

She spins on her heel and stalks off like a particularly drab bird. You stand on your porch for a second longer, face contorted in annoyed confusion. You don’t even have strong feelings about the three men; the simple act of someone - Agatha of all people - labeling them as “Off Limits” makes them instantly more appealing.

Maybe you should see someone about that or something. Then the pathetic cries of Guy through the window lure you back inside.

It’s nearly sundown when there’s a knock at your door. Still agitated from your talk with Agatha, you puff up like Shithead when Rasputin sits on her favorite toy. March up to the door, fling it open - and come up short when you see the three men looming on your doorstep.

Before you can recover, a little gray blob scrambles past your ankles, crying like the sky is falling.

“Oh!” Konig gasps in pleasant surprise. “Hallo, Bubchen!”

And all 6-foot-plus of Austrian instantly folds to scoop Guy up. You’ve barely managed a now-useless shout of alarm when Shithead wedges her fat head between your calves. Behind you, Rasputin politely screeches his little chainsmoker call.

And somehow, in the chaos of fumbling for furballs, you end up with all three men in your foyer.

Guy is purring away in Konig’s thick arms. Shithead is attempting to scale Krueger’s tight cargo pants. And Rasputin is pawing the air at Nikto, visibly calculating the jump to his wide shoulders.

Which leaves you with the clean serving platter you dropped off just yesterday. You blink at it for a moment, then glance at them.

“So… the cookies were good then?”

“Very good!” Konig rushes to say. Krueger and Nikto each nod, almost comically solemn.

“We have no baking or cooking skills,” Krueger continues, “so tell us what needs fixing.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means. The house. He wants to fix your house. It’s surprisingly sweet, and you laugh a bit, shaking your head. “You don’t need to do that, I was just-“

“Is custom,” Nikto interrupts.

Konig nods with all the enthusiasm of a bobblehead as Krueger crosses his arms. (Whatever effect he’s going for is ruined by Shithead clinging to his pocket and screaming.)

“In our country, we bring gifts as guests. Our gift is repairs,” he explains.

You arch your brows playfully. “I don’t remember inviting you to be guests.”

He arches his brows right back. “We did not invite you either.”

Well shit.

“Okay, okay. I guess there’s a couple things…”

Konig perks up. “We would be happy to help, Biene!”

It’s strange having men in the house. You think you should be more nervous about it, can’t remember the last non-family man allowed into your space. Especially alone.

There’s a sharp awareness, of course. Hard not to be aware of them. It’s not just that they’re big, dwarfing all of your you-sized furniture. There’s a presence to them, something felt but not seen by your untrained eye. Maybe it’s in the set of their shoulders, the way they stand with both boots firmly planted. Maybe it’s the precise way they speak and move, not just separately but as a unit. Acting more like a collective consciousness than as individuals.

Whatever it is, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. And you’re definitely not trying.

You set Krueger to work on the kitchen cabinet you’ve been meaning to replace. He clicks his tongue at the tape-and-lean method you’ve been using to keep the old one in place. Shithead immediately sets to work helping by gnawing at his shoelaces.

Konig is stationed in the guest bathroom, where the sink doesn’t run right. Guy comes mewing into your arms when he’s set down, effectively tattling that his new friend is mean and awful for withholding affection for even a moment.

You try not to visibly hesitate when you corner yourself in your own laundry room. Nikto has followed you right in, seemingly unaware that he’s invading your personal space. He’s not even looking at you though, eyes zeroed in on the dryer you point to.

“It’s not heating up, so the clothes stay wet or take forever to dry,” you explain.

He grunts in acknowledgement, then nods to Rasputin, who has taken up residence on the washer. His one golden eye blinks slow and serene at the two of you.

“What happened?” he asks.

You hum, softening in pleasant surprise at the question.

“I’m not sure how he lost his eye. It was infected when I found him. But I know for sure the tail and leg are from getting hit by a car.”

You sigh, scratching at Rasputin’s chin. A rusty purr starts up as he tilts his head, revealing some nasty scars around his throat.

“The vet said that that’s probably from a fight with another cat,” you add.

Guy steps from your arms to cuddle up to Rasputin, shoving his face into his ragged ear. Grooming time, then. That’s as good an indication as any that Nikto’s probably safe enough.

“I ran down from an office building to save him.” You blink hard, eyes stinging just from the memory. “But anyway, he gets to rest and be pampered now.”

When you glance up from Rasputin’s happy little face, you almost startle at the sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. Your face feels warm, even though you’re not embarrassed.

“I’ll, um, get out of the way,” you say, clearing your throat. “Keep an eye on things, Ras.”

With the men occupied, you find yourself once again at loose ends. You drift towards the den, but it feels awkward to sit on your ass watching TV while your neighbors fix your house.

You check the time on your phone - ignoring the text from your mother - and figure it’s not too early to start dinner.

“Will I be in the way if I start cooking?” you ask Krueger.

He flicks you a dimissive glance. “A little thing like you?”

You scoff and cross to the fridge. “You could have just said no.”

“Nein,” he snorts.

Rude bastard, you think - though not without fondness, unfortunately. The surly attitude is already growing on you.

There’s meat and spare boxes of pasta and veggies - that’ll work. You start tugging out ingredients, mentally doubling portions for your guests. They look like they work out even beyond the construction labor, hopefully you’ll have enough to satisfy their appetites.

“So what’s the plan with the house?” you ask as you get to work. “Just fixing it up to sell or…?”

“We will live there, the three of us,” Krueger answers. He swipes a screwdriver from Shithead’s batting paws. “Somewhere to stay when we are not working.”

You hum, biting back the next obvious question, loathe to become as nosy as the rest of your neighbors. Still… getting to know people, right?

It sounds like they expect to travel a lot. You can’t imagine them as business types - not in the traditional sense anyway. Though the image of Konig sitting in a tiny cubicle does make you smile a bit. Between their statures, their clothes, their shoes, and the occasional nasty scar, you take a guess.

“Are you guys military?”

“Contractor,” Krueger corrects.

You perk up. “Wait, really?”

He scowls. “Does it sound like a joke?”

You huff and turn back to the veggies you’re cutting. “No, no. I just - you know about guns and knives and things, then?”

He pauses. You shoot him a curious glance, only to quickly look away at the intense scrutiny directed your way.

“Yes,” he answers slowly.

“Then… could you maybe answer some questions…?”

His eyes narrow. “Questions?”

You keep your gaze on the cutting board. “Okay, wait, it's not suspicious. I’m a writer and it’s hard to google very specific questions sometimes. It’s just easier to ask an expert in person.”

Never mind that majority of your readers would never know the difference. It bothers you when things aren’t accurate.

He makes a considering noise. “A writer?”

You flush. “That’s what I do. Why I’m always home? I publish fiction.”

He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. You peek his way, shocked to see a task you’ve been putting off for weeks already done. Hell, it looks sturdier than the rest of the cabinet doors, too.

“And your fiction requires knowledge of guns and knives and ‘things’?” he asks.

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Sometimes…”

“Fine. I will answer your questions,” he allows.

You beam. “Thank you!”

He grunts, snatches a slice of pepper and pops it into his mouth.

“What else needs doing?”

Dinner ends up much more pleasant than expected. Nikto abstains from eating, you assume because he doesn’t feel comfortable removing his ever-present mask, but he sits at the table with Rasputin in his lap. He speaks little, and has that intense gaze that prickles at your freeze instinct, but you grow used to it as the meal progresses.

Konig, however, becomes chattier with food in his belly. He’s much more forthcoming when he answers your polite and totally casual questions - though you notice Krueger kick him under the table once or twice.

You suppose he gets you back by effectively announcing to the others what your career is. Which just kicks off the usual line of questioning about how and why you got into writing. Still, there’s no judgment from these men that make their living in labors of blood and sacrifice, where you expected censure. You only find genuine curiosity and intrigue, good-natured questions. Not even Krueger makes backhanded comments about it not being a “real” job.

Before you know it, the moon is high and you’re sending the three of them off, bellies full and a little friendlier than before. Nikto nods to you (and Rasputin) as he leaves, a big Tupperware of his dinner portion in hand.

You tell yourself it’s not anticipation that goes through you, knowing they’ll be back with it soon.

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Masterlist

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 22

Part 1 [...] 20 21 22 23

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, emotional constipation, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i just realized sunfyre didn't hatch for aegon and he had to claim him... anyway since I already wrote it like that, just roll with it ok?? ALSO PLEASE SPARE ME A COMMENT/REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS because it feels so aimless T_T anyway next part wont be... hopefully <3 | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @astrogirl01

You find yourself awakening to the feel of hands brushing through your hair. You slowly open your eyes and curl inward, sensitive to the sunshine beaming in through the window. You are pulled in with a contented sigh.

You realize two things then, one, your head was upon Daemon's chest, and two, he was singing something under his breath. You slowly lift your head, finding his face. His eyes were closed, though he was still combing through your hair with a tune upon his lips. He was beautiful.

Your heart tightens as you reach for him.

Daemon stills when he feels your hand on his cheek and promptly opens his eyes.

Your own water as he takes your hand to press a kiss upon in.

"Sȳz ñāqes." Good morning.

Your lips tremble, "issi ao drējion?" Are you real?

His brows furrow as a tear runs down your cheek. He quickly shifts, wipes it away, and pulls you tightly into him, "kessa." You instantly seal your arms around him. He presses a kiss upon your head, "iksan kesīr, ñuha jorrāelagon." Yes. I am here, my love.

You sigh into his shoulder as he secures you over him. You mumble against his skin, "I dream of waking to you often."

"As do I," he brushes his nose against you.

He rubs your back as he feels wetness build on his collar. He holds you tighter, hoping his embrace will dam your tears. He whispers your name in an attempt to soothe you.

You pull away and examine his face.

Daemon frowns at how pinkish and puffy your eyes were already.

You gently swipe his pout and smooth the line between his brows. He seems to relax slightly as you continue to trace the rest of his features. You sniffle, "are your dreams vivid?"

He watches you— you, who seemed to be so enamored by him. He clenches his jaw and squeezes your hip, "sometimes I feel you in my arms."

You lock gazes.

"But then I find a pillow in my embrace when I rouse."

You frown slightly, "my dreams feel like memories that never were. They quickly fade when I open my eyes."

Daemon shifts, sitting up so your head was no longer hovering. He pulls you against his chest, kissing your temple, "I am an awfully persistent presence. I will not fade, even if you insist upon it."

You chuckle softly.

He smiles, squeezing your arm, as if urging that you bless him with the sound once more.

"I would never insist that you fade," you rub his cheek, "especially not for me."

He takes your wrist and kisses it.

"I do have one dream that I have not forgotten... one and only."

He hums in interest.

"I was praying in the temple, and you came to me."

Daemon's throat tightens.

"It was after the last dinner we had with the late queen Aemma, after all the ruckus from it."

He hums again, brows tightening at the memory.

"The next thing I know I was in bed and you were looking down at me," you brush your lips, "then I was kissing you, holding you, pulling you i—"

"Wait," he shakes his head, "this was the night before the tourney, was it not?"

You nod as you trace the burn scars across his chest. You frown and kiss him there.

He shifts and looks down at you, taking your face to steal back your attention, "that was not a dream."

You look up at him, "hmm?"

"I went to you in the temple," he shakes his head, silver hair falling to his face, "I knelt with you then carried you back to your chambers. You asked me to stay and I did."

Your brow furrows as you sit up, "y-you did?" You shake your head, "but I-" your eyes water, "I woke up alone, I-" your lips wobble.

Daemon feels dreadful. He almost mentions that he knows what you've prayed for all your life, but he does not want to speak it into existence if that was no longer the case. Instead, he says, "I had to rouse early for the games."

You whimper, "do you speak true?"

He clutches your cheeks and nods slowly, "I did not want to. I waited until the last moment to leave. I didn't have the heart to wake you."

You scratch your eyes, not wanting to cry, "I... that was why I could not bear to go to the games... I was so bitter that my dreams were so sweet and reality- .... reality—" you cannot withhold your sob.

Daemon pulls you against him, guilt rising up his neck as he recalls the cruelty he handed you once you do arrive. Jealousy soon replaces guilt when he thinks of Gwayne. He grits his teeth, "would you have still gone to your brother had you not believed our love making was a dream?"

You sniffle, "... what?"

He examines your once more dampened cheeks and hangs his head, "would you have been more partial to me had you known I actually stayed with you that night?"

Your heart throbs, "do you ask me if I would have cared less for my twin?"

"No," he looks away, "I ask if you would you have cared more for me."

"I do care for you," you reach for his cheek.

"More than your beloved Gwayne?" he turns back to you.

You frown, "now, yes."

He should be happy, but he bristles at the context. He chuckles dryly, "you loved him more then."

"It still hurt me to know you saw me as a pawn in your game," you simultaneously shrug and shake your head, "I do not mind it now, so long as you do not abandon me."

"You are no pawn," he wipes your cheeks, "you are my queen."

You purse your lips, "Aemma told me something similar... that pawns turn into queens."

"You are no pawn to me," he repeats firmly.

You lower your gaze, "be it as it may... a queen must provide her king an heir and..." you wipe your face, "I- I am not strong enough."

He speaks your name, gently shaking you.

You hide behind your palms.

He parts his mouth, but finds nothing to say.

For a moment, a moment far too long, you crumble into despair. Your affliction does not take control of you though as Daemon's touch keeps you grounded.

He desperate to soothe you, "I am second born."

You take deep breaths to steel your tears.

"Rhaenyra's been named successor..." his voice is soft, "I've no use for heirs."

Your pull your hands away, face falling, brows tightening at his words. You rapidly shake your head, "do not comfort me with lies."

"I don't need to," he mutters, "my words are true, I..." he shrugs, "... need no heirs."

"You would have me believe you do not want me to sire you sons or daughters?"

He places his hands on your belly, his large hand rubs warm circles, "... that is not what I said."

"Daemo-"

"There is nothing to inherit from me," he shrugs.

Your forehead curls. You shift beside him and rest your head on his shoulder, "you would not have them inherit your tenacity or your comeliness?"

His nostrils flare. He leans into you, "you find me comely, wife?"

"I find you beauteous."

A deep chuckle passes his lips. "Do not flatter me so," he rubs his nose against yours, "I will not let out of this bed."

You kiss his neck, "you will not hear a complaint from me."

Daemon groans and hurtles himself into you, crushing you beneath him. You giggle as he kisses you, mouth hungry for yours. He finds the back of your knee on instinct, and is soon strapping your legs around him. His lips, tongue, and teeth take a moment on your skin.

You are dazed when he pulls away. His heart races at the sight of your swollen lips and glazed expression.

You comb through his hair, "your hair is longer."

"Mmm," he brushes your hair off your shoulder, "do you prefer it short?"

You shrug, "I prefer you how ever."

Daemon chuckles, hand coming to your cheek. He traces your lips with his thumb, "very well," he squeezes your thigh and bucks into you, "I shall bed you before breaking fast."

Your belly swirls. You close your eyes when he kisses your neck.

He licks your pulse, "I shall fill your belly with my seed-"

Your eyes open.

"-that you might feel my warmth inside you," he massages your waist.

"Daem-"

"Then you shall have your fill of moon tea."

You tense. Daemon continues to kiss you until he can no longer ignore the rigidness of your form. His eyes lock with yours as he examines you. He sees your trepidation. He tucks hair behind your ear.

I-need-no-heirs plays in your mind. Your throat tightens, not knowing what to think. Is he sick of you, sick of your inadequacies? He wants children but... not by you? He no longer wants to try—

The sound of your name pulls you out of it. He kisses your jaw reassuringly, "None of me desires to gain children but lose my wife. I've already had a taste... it is too bitter to bear."

You grip his shoulder, tight enough that his flesh punctures beneath your nails. You want to speak, but you know not what.

"You will regain your strength and then," he stresses, "then shall children come."

Your lips wobble, "a-and if I don't—"

He silences you with a kiss, mumbling, "you will get better."

He takes no other word from you save his name moaned in pleasure.

Daemon is gentle.

He does not rush.

He draws your love making until his hair is dripping in sweat and your skin is sticky with him. You're consumed wholly by him and he is consumed wholly by you. Once you're both coming down from your high, you latch yourself around him, unwanting him to pull away from you.

He adores it, yet, the same moment, he finds he is, in fact, just a man and you were feminine divinity overwhelming him. "My love," Daemon grunts against your neck, "... let up."

"I want you inside my ribcage."

He both chuckles and whines against your jaw, "I am still inside you, lover."

"I want to eat you."

Daemon, overwhelmed still, but gravely besotted, nips at your ear, "later, I swear it."

You find yourself giggling at the sound of him.

"I admit..." Daemon whispers, "... I wish to rouse... I worry terribly for Caraxes."

You immediately loosen your grip on him.

Daemon whimpers, suddenly ungrateful at the release. He looks at you, brows furrowed in worry, "he must want to eat me as well... though unlike you."

You frown at his expression and shake your head, "he misses you. I've had my turn. You should go to him."

"I can be shared," he licks his lips, "come with me?"

You knit your brows and nod, "of course."

‎Daemon holds your hand tightly all the way to the pits. Part of you wants to tell him you're not going to vanish into thin air, but in truth, you enjoy the fervor of his hold.

‎When you arrive, the pit is bustling. The first thing you both notice is Caraxes is feasting, feasting as if his life depended on it, as if he hadn't eaten in months, which he hasn't, not properly.

Daemon squeezes your hand, and so do you, turning to him with a smile. His lips were slightly parted and his eyes were glassy. You reach for his arm and rub his bicep. He leans into you, scratching his eyes.

"You did it, he's better now," you mutter.

Daemon sniffles and sighs, looking back to Caraxes. He pulls you along with him as he walks towards one of the head keepers and has conversation with her.

As he does, you watch the blood wyrm scarf down food as if his life depended on it. He was crunching on beasts twice your size like apple. You vaguely hear something about him eating 10 cows before a loud, high pitched cry of your name rings across the space.

You turn and find Aegon, already running up to you with a kingsguard running after him. The child was too lithe and the guard's armor too heavy for the prince to be caught. You gasp and pull away from Daemon, immediately alerting him.

Daemon's throat tightens as you walk towards the boy, grunting as he jumps into your arms. Before his jealousy claws at him, Caraxes, with his new found strength, turns and hisses at the villain, the child in your embrace. Like master, like mount.

"Caraxes," Daemon raises a hand in correction. He walks over to him and strokes his face. The dragon pushes into him, showing his displeasure. He hushes him, "Nyke gīmigon, Caraxes. Istiti gūrēñagon ityragon." I know, Caraxes, we must learn to share.

Caraxes makes a sound, as if knowing how incredibly stupid the notion was.

You bend down, allowing Aegon to take your cheeks and kiss you, "muña, I'm going to ride Sunfyre." (Maternal) aunt.

Daemon watches. When his throat tightens, he thinks of the boy's brother, Aemond, and how he felt holding him last night. It calms him down enough that he can offer his mount affection.

You raise your brows apprehensively at the boy, "you are?"

"Yes! Yes! I'm a big boy!"

You hear clanking and find the kingsguard now behind prince. You stand and raise a brow at him, "the prince says he will be riding today."

Daemon turns back.

"Will you be able to take responsibility of him?" you ask the guard.

The knight huffs, looking down at the prince.

You purse your lips at that and lean back towards your nephew, "has the dragon keepers said that you can?"

Aegon hums and looks away.

You sigh, "Aegon—"

"But I want to!" Aegon stomps his foot, turning to back to you, "skoro syt gaomagon eman rȳbagon se urnerys?!" Why do I have to listen to the keepers?!

"Ae-"

"Ao ȳdra daor," a deep voice speaks from behind you. You don't.

Aegon looks up at Daemon, eyes watery in frustration.

His uncle crosses his arms, feeling no sympathy for weepy looks of the child, "yn lo gaomā daor, p��r ao daor limagon lo ao jiōragon ōdrikagon." But if you do not, then you cannot cry if you get hurt.

You turn as well, straightening up, "Daemon."

"Emā naejot rȳbagon naejot aōha muña," he raises a finger, "va moriot." You have to listen to your (maternal) aunt. Always.

"Daor," Aegon grumbles. No.

Daemon's upper lip curls. He steps forward, "eminna ao toliot ñuha ybon." I will have you over my knee.

"Daemon," you press a hand on his chest.

Daemon grits his teeth.

You take his cheek and make him look at you. The tension on his shoulders quickly melt away. You offer him a smile but quickly turn back to Aegon when he begins to stomp around in defiance.

He shrieks, "I WANT TO FLY!"

"Aegon!" you try to take his arm, but he wrangles out of your grip.

Aegon squeals in protest and Caraxes begins to react, earning Daemon's attention again. The older prince turns and raises a hand, commanding the dragon to stay back.

Your grip is weak, thus why your nephew slips out of your grasp. When he spots Sunfyre being ushered out the pits, he immediately tries to run to him, but his guard snatches his arm before he can. The golden dragon reacts in like with his rider's tantrum.

In the end, because the pair's emotional meltdown, they were both escorted back to their rooms, and you were left feeling terrible to see Aegon be carried away while he cried out for you.

Daemon is satisfied that you stayed with him. He rubs Caraxes's snout, continuing to calm him. He calls out your name and reaches a hand to you.

You take his hand, sighing as your husband pulls you into his chest. He kisses your temple and places your palm upon his dragon's scales. You are glad to feel that Caraxes warm again.

He cannot help himself, as jealousy lingers in his mouth, "spoiled fucking brat."

You raise a brow at him, "Aegon a child."

"No child of mine," Daemon scoffs, "how terrible to think there now is three."

Your face twist, "you act as though you would not put up a fight if you were pried away from your dragon."

You notice his jaw clench. You place your hand on his shoulder, silently demanding that he look at you.

Daemon huffs, "... fine."

You watch him give you a look.

"Let us pray your sister does not birth another brat."

She doesn't, she births a darling babe named Daeron four years later. Of course, in Daemon's eyes, he was a fussy nuisance, and he despised that his wails were audible in your chambers some nights. He was, in fact, a brat. A demanding one at that.

The boy demanded so much attention that apparently Alicent was not enough. Daeron did not sleep if he was not being held, and your bleeding heart was ever so weak for your sister and her spawn.

This was why you presently held the youngest prince in your arms; he needed to sleep and the queen had much else to attend to.

The sun shines upon your form in the training square. Daemon watches as you rock the child in your arms, tucking dark hair behind your ear as a gust of wind blows it into your face. He grunts when his sparring partner hits his hip.

"Got you!"

Daemon eyes the boy, and deflects with his wooden sword when he tries to hit him again, "didn't I tell you to take a break?"

"I'm not tired, kepus!"

The tiny prince tries to go at him again but Daemon pushes him back with no effort, "nice try."

You look up from Daeron when you hear tiny skidding feet. You adjust the babe in your arm and cup the side of your mouth, "be nice, darling."

Daemon looks out to you, finding your raised brow, then turns back to the boy, "hear that. Your aunt told you to be nice and listen to your uncle."

None the wiser, the boy whips back at you then nods at Daemon, "okay, uncle."

He chuckles as his opponent gets back into fighting stance. He sighs, equally impressed and exasperated by the boy's spirit, "fine," he tilts his head, "let us make a deal. If you defeat me, I'll let you have my cakes at lunch time."

He gasps.

"But-" Daemon raises a finger, "-if I win, you have to give me all your cakes."

The boy freezes.

Daemon's lips curl in to a devious smirk.

He can only stare in silence after hearing the conditions.

"Well?" he raises his brow, "what say you, Aemond?"

Aemond turns to his feet. He lowers his practice sword, "... maybe ..."

"Maybe?" Daemon repeats.

Silver hair flutters across his eyes as Aemond lifts his gaze, "maybe we can take a break... ?"

Daemon laughs, reaching a hand out to the boy, "good choice."

Aemond gratefully takes his uncle's hand and the two walk towards you.

You smile at them and reach for your nephew's face when he's near, "done training, my love?"

"We're taking a brea-"

"We are," Daemon corrects as he sits. He rests his chin on your shoulder, "I'm tired."

You turn to him.

Aemond whines in protest, "you said we're taking a break."

"Yes, well," Daemon pushes your hair to the side and kisses your neck, "I'm starving."

"But kepus!" the boy whines, "it's not lunch time yet!"

He does not even look at Aemond, instead, he sneaks an arm behind you, pulling you closer to him, "if you don't let me have lunch now, I'm I'm going to eat your aunt."

Aemond gasps, immediately pulling your skirt away from him, "NO!!!!!"

You chuckle but click your tongue, "Aemond, I might drop your brother."

Daemon eyes the frantic Aemond, circling an arm around you as he bites your shoulder.

"NOOOO!" Aemond squeals, trying his best to save you from attempted cannibalism.

When you spot the boy's watery gaze, you shrug Daemon off and slowly come to a stand, "ȳdra daor limagon, ñuha jorrāelagon, aōha uncle tymagon lēda ao." Don't cry, my love, your uncle plays with you.

You secure Daeron in your arm before stroking a gentle finger across the boy's cheek.

"Daor," Daemon stands as well, eyeing Aemond, "I am a dragon. I gladly eat your aunt every nig—"

"Daemon!"

He breaks into a laugh while Aemond breaks into a sob.

You disapprovingly call out Daemon again, and he immediately picks the boy up, though he continuing to laugh. Aemond scratches his eyes as his uncle easily holds him in one arm, brushing his silver hair off his face

You glare at him, "it's not funny."

Daemon, enamored by the boy, kisses Aemond on the cheek, "little bit."

You continue to give him a withering glare.

When he finally catches it, his smile fades slightly. He sighs, "māzigon sir," he rubs Aemond's back, "mēre hae kostōba hae istia daor limagon." Come now. One as strong as you must not cry.

Aemond woefully looks at Daemon, lips trembling, "muña iksis va moriot ōdrikagon. nyke ȳdra daor jaelagon ao naejot ōdrikagon zirȳla." (Maternal) aunt is always hurt. I don't want you to hurt her.

Your face falls, "oh, my love."

This promptly wipes Daemon's grin away. He sighs and strokes the boy's arm, "Kessa, kessa... shijetra ñuha tēmire." Yes, yes... forgive my cruelty.

Aemond sniffles, embracing Daemon as he drops his head on his broad shoulder.

Daemon rubs the boy's back. Aemond's empathy begets guilt into to him. It only flares at the sight of your disappointed expression.

"All is well, my love," you pat Aemond's head, "we shall eat cakes now."

Aemond perks, quickly turning to you.

Daemon's eyes crinkle his simpleness.

"Shall we wait for your siblings in the solar?" you smile.

Aemond nods eagerly.

Daemon chuckles softly, bouncing him in his arm.

You send off Daeron to his wetnurse while you, your husband, and your sister's children eat in the solar. Aegon and Helaena had returned from dragonback, and the former was excitedly telling you about the experience, much to the annoyance of Daemon.

Now eight, Aegon was an energetic and audacious thing. He was more so Daemon's villain now than he was then. He and the boy were competing constantly for your attention, and he did not like it one bit.

"AND SUNFYRE MANAGED TO DO CIRCLES IN THE SKY!" Aegon motioned with a fork from where he sat at the head of the table.

You immediately raise a hand but it is Daemon that sharply snaps, "do not play with your fork."

The boy obeys, but does not acknowledge his uncle at all, eyes still fixed upon you, "Helaena and Dreamfyre could barely keep up with us."

You turn to your niece, who sat beside you, quietly eating her food. You brush her hair back, "if that is so, you must slow down for her."

"NOOOO!" Aegon groans, leaning back into her chair, "that's no funnnnn!"

Daemon, who was on your other side, turns to the second born, "is your brother horrid with you, girl?"

"AM NOT!" Aegon protests.

Helaena turns to her uncle, glimmering eyes telling that she left her head in the clouds after riding through them, "Aegon is only Aegon."

She was capable of speaking only like this, like a dreamer. It once fascinated Daemon to see the gift manifest in her, but he quickly realized he had no patience for it, not in listening, much less deciphering. You, however, had eternal patience and lent your ear to every nonsensical word she spoke, even the ones of bugs. Unlike the jealousy her older brother inspired from coveting his wife, he could not find fault in Helaena; she was a gentle thing.

Your brows slightly furrow at Helaena's words, knowing that Aegon has grown to be rather stubborn and expedient.

Daemon sees it as a clear opportunity to villainize him, "so you were being horrid."

"WAS NOT!" Aegon whines, pulling at his hair in frustration.

"Hush," you raise a hand, glaring at Daemon before offering Aegon a sympathetic look, "you weren't. But you, yourself, said you didn't wait for Helaena-"

"BECAUSE SHE'S FUCKING SLOW!"

"Aegon!" you quip, "watch your tongue!"

Daemon chuckles to himself, reveling in how the boy exemplified his horridness. Just as Daemon takes a bite of his food, Aemond, who sat beside him, tugs at his sleeve, pointing to the cake in the middle of the table.

Aemond's plate was not even half finished, and he and Daemon both knew it would greatly displease you if the boy had dessert already. Yet, your husband steals a glance at you amidst your attempt to calm your bratty nephew and casually reaches for a cakes, quickly handing it to Aemond.

The young prince gratefully curls into his chair and smiles at his uncle, "thank you, kepus."

Daemon hums and shifts, turning his body that you might not catch the child eating dessert already.

He would never admit it, but everyone knew, Aemond was his favorite. Holding him after his return from Essos, at a time he was so vulnerable, forged an profound partialness for the boy. He tried to convince himself he'd be just as wretched as his older brother, but he simply was not. Aemond was quiet, observant, obedient, and most importantly, he was not nearly as interested in you as his siblings. He was interested in Daemon, and Daemon adored it; he adored him.

Once Aegon was calm, he continued finishing his meal. Unlike from your vantage point, Aegon could clearly see Aemond snacking on cakes, and so he purses his lips and takes one for himself.

You immediately react, "finish your food first."

"BUT AEMOND IS EATING CAKE!" Aegon points.

Daemon's face darkens. Rat.

You inspect Aemond, and Daemon no longer shields him. The boy wanted cake, let him face the consequences.

"Aemond!"

Aemond turns to you, violet eyes innocent, mouth covered in frosting.

"You haven't finish your vegetables!" you reach for the cake in his hand.

Aemond whines, crushing most in an attempt to continue eating it.

You click your tongue at the mess and elbow Daemon while you're at it. You brush your nephew off while muttering sharply, "you know better than to feed the boy sweets."

Daemon raises his hands, "I did-"

You silence him with a glare.

He tenses, finding it pointless to feign innocence.

After lunch, you and Daemon bring the kids back to their rooms, the latter is eager to have you all to yourself now. As you were about to leave, Alicent arrives. She constantly look troubled as of late, now that Viserys health went on a visible decline.

"Sister," she sighs, coming to you in haste.

Daemon's expression sours when he hears the queen ask if you could spare her a moment. He grits his teeth when you, in all your kindness, readily agree, and immediately get pulled out the room.

He sighs. He watches Aegon and Aemond play with blocks and wooden dragons for a moment and quickly decides to terrorize them while waiting for your chat to end.

When you walk back in, Daemon had roped in Helaena as a fellow antagonist. Though his intentions were truly meanspirited, the children saw only amusement in their uncle as he fashioned himself as the Black Dread, kicking down the castles they were building while Helaena clung on his back, pretending to be The Conqueror.

The sight pinches your heart tightly.

Aegon squeals, trying to push his uncle away as Aemond scrams to rebuild a tower. The older boy yells, "HURRY!"

"I'M TRYING!" Aemond trembles in his haste.

Daemon sees you, sighing through a faint grin, "thank the gods."

The sound of Helaena's laughter as she's put down to your feet should have made you want to laugh with her, but it made you want to cry instead.

"No wait," Aegon cries out, "not yet! We're not finished!"

Daemon shakes his head, not budging as the boy pulls at his arm. He walks over to you, slipping out of Aegon's grasp, "I'm exhausted, boy."

Aegon whines, "but uncle!"

Soon, Aemond is begging Daemon to stay as well. Your heart continues to ache for the kids, but clearly your husband is unmoved. He eyes the boys expressionless, but then notices that even Helaena is hovering. His resolve slightly chips, "enough. I should like a nap, as should you lot."

The boys whine.

You frown.

It was a mistake to look at you then. He is powerless beneath your gaze. He curses softly in High Valyrian then waves a hand, "one last game."

The children cheer.

You watch them play. Daemon is far gentler now which makes the game far more fun. Your heart tightens over how much joy you feel that you have to step out of the room to calm yourself down.

The game is truly over then.

Daemon is quick to your side, egregiously worried at how you were clutching your chest.

You tell him you're alright, but you were so out of breath he does not understand it. He frantically mutters High Valyrian in an attempt to calm you as he rubs your back and keeps you upright.

Again, you say, "I'm alright," and he finally understands you, though he obviously cannot believe it is true.

"Shall we go for a swim?" Daemon mutters softly, so not give himself away to his panic.

You shake your head as you the tightness in your lungs slowly wanes. You lean into his chest, lulling yourself at the sound of his heart beat.

He never knows if he should wrap his arms around you during these times. He waits until you hold him for him to return the affection.

You were soft beneath his touch, no more the shell of what you were when he had first left you for the Stepstones. You were stronger now, more than even how you were when he first met you, brighter too; you had been so sad then. He revels in knowing it was because of him.

"I want to lay down," you mutter against his doublet.

Daemon nods. The lines in his forehead do not fade, for you look exhausted.

Yes, you were stronger, but it seemed even your affliction was. It didn't happen as much, and he was glad of it, but when it did, it was too much.

He rubs your arm as you slowly head back to your chambers. In an attempt to distract you, Daemon asks, "what did your sister say?"

When you look at him, it seems this was not the best choice of conversation.

He immediately shakes his head, "did I already tell you about how Caraxe-"

"It's Daeron."

He purses his lips, already knowing whatever it is will not be good.

"She cannot care for him and manage the king's health and all her duties at once. He'll be sent 45to ward in Oldtown."

Daemon's brows furrow.

"She asked me if I wanted to go with him—"

"What?" he stops you both in your tracks.

"— or if Gwayne should come here to-"

"Get the fucking cunt to crawl here. Why should you have to fucking travel to that hellhole?"

"..."

"..."

"... I-" Daemon sighs and shakes his head in frustration. He squeezes your hand, "I jus-"

"I was not going to go."

Daemon gulps.

"I am not foolish enough to believe my strength would last a day if we are apart."

Your words make him relax, and yet your soft smile makes his lips curl into a guilty frown.

"My sister too is well aware of this," you squeeze his hand back, "she asked with the intention that you'd come with me."

Daemon tenses. He does not like the sound of it.

Clearly to you and your gentle heart, you believed your sister urges such things to your betterment, and perhaps it was so, but he was not gentle. His gut screamed that the Hand had something to do with this, that it was he that planted this idea in the Queen's head. He does not speak it for your sake.

You lick your lips and take a breath, "the last time I was able to take my pregnancy to term was when I went back to Oldtown."

He tenses and knits his brows. He reaches for your cheek and shakes his head, "we've only started trying."

You look off aimlessly before turning back to him, "we started trying when Aemond was two. He is four now, and Daeron is due his first nameday."

"Do not measure yourself against your sister," Daemon's expression hardens, "she's not known a fraction of your suffering."

You do not respond. When you look away again, you do not look back.

He sighs in frustration. He does not mean to break your spirit. He slowly calls out your name.

"You're right," you shake your head, "I just-"

"Want to go to home," he whispers, scared to say it too loud.

Your gaze lands on him. Your eyes are slightly beady, which is why your chuckle confuses him. "Silly boy," you reach for his cheek, "you are my home."

His heart rattles in his chest. He takes your wrist and kisses it.

You smile, "I do however... want to go to Oldtown."

Wistfulness captures your expression, causing him to frown. He squeezes your hand gently.

"The air is different there," you shrug, "kinder, I think."

"Kinder?" he cannot control his laugh, "the land wherein your father was molded is kind?"

You do not respond.

He regrets it, as your eyes are downcast yet again. He gulps and decides to simple tell you, "it might be he that put such notions in Alicent's head."

"My father?"

"Who else?" Daemon raises a brow, "he wants me far from my brother, that he may poison him further." He adds, as if you didn't already know, "he requires a cane to walk now."

You nod, "I know."

"I know you know, I just-"

"It's fine," you raise a hand, "like I said, I was not going to go."

Daemon feels ill to see you like this, but he does not say a word as you go back to your chambers.

[worstgenerationloser]

,, New Year's kiss! '' (1)

Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace, and Shanks x GN! Reader.

Summary... how would they react to a new years kiss from you?

Contains... a little fluffy, but also mostly foolishness from your favorite characters.

A/N: Might be a bit late for some people, I don't really celebrate things like this but the concept was cute to me.

Monkey D. Luffy

will absolutely not give you a single chance to even get a glimpse of his teeth let alone his mouth, he will be stuffing his face like there's no tomorrow.

as the countdown gets lower and lower with everybody chanting, couples holding onto eachother, you finally get your chance— Luffy manages to finish every last plate of food on the large table Sanji set, and Sanji seems too preoccupied with a special someone.

"Oh, hey—" He will notice you a second too late, and your lips have already met.

cheers erupt and a few more kiss, and Luffy is merely confused.

"What the hell was that for?" He raises a brow, your hand still placed gently on his cheek, Sanji turns around with a new red handprint on his face, and he's flabbergasted.

"WHY WITH LUFFY?!"

you're left embarrassed after everybody in the vicinity turns around, and Luffy doesn't seem too bothered, actually you don't even think he cared that you kissed him...

that's what you would have thought, if he wasn't already wrapping his stretched out arms around you, giggling like a madman.

"No clue why you kissed me, but I don't mind, aslong as it's you."

he's always been an odd boy, anyways.

Black Leg Sanji

he's already right next to you. don't fight me on this.

he's been planning it since the very beginning of this year, waiting so that he could end his year in the absolute best way possible

kissing you for the first and hopefully not the last time.

actually, he's very nervous, but he's made sure that he brushed his teeth and even though he was so nervous he needed a cigarette more than ever, he wouldn't dare taint his mouth with nicotine before kissing your lips, for you are a saint, the very epitome of—

"5...4...3..."

clearing his throat, he gently tilts your head towards him, his eyes softer than they have ever been before, and once you recognize him, he kisses you like you have never been before.

the soft and tender side of him immediately dissolves into nothingness the moment you kiss him back, because his nose blood immediately gushes all over the front of your clothes, and he's paralyzed and falls to the floor with his mouth wide open.

"Ah, what a blessing... The heavens have shown me such mercy and allowed me to experience such divinity from an angel themselves... My dear, I simply must kiss you again..."

he mumbled to himself for the next five minutes, Zoro was already plotting his next batch of insults for the perverted cook, and you were a little disappointed in Sanji for losing himself so soon.

however, when Sanji comes back to himself, he's immediately apologetic and cursing himself for acting a fool.

"Mon amour, I forgot myself for a moment. I assure you this time I will show you how utterly important it is to me that you remain in my heart— may I?"

he, once again, forgets himself and passes out.

Roronoa Zoro

he WILL be drinking sake, and is probably off to the side somewhere while the crew parties. he tries to act nonchalant but he kinda wants to party.

when you break off from the group of partygoers, he gets suspicious, and his face begins to redden. Sanji, the romantic he was, had been blabbering about a New Year's Kiss for the past three days, and Zoro began to wonder if this was it.

his hand grips the bottle a little tighter, and he reluctantly places the bottle down, the countdown growing near.

his hammering heart had not been calmed by the alcohol at all. he thinks it's gonna break out of his ribcage when he hears the crowd growing livelier.

"FIVE SECONDS!"

no, he wasn't gonna stand for this.

he ends up beating you to it, his mouth crashing onto yours one second before fireworks begin to blow up, yells and screams echoed into the sky, and a second before your lips would have found his.

as soon as his lips meet yours, they leave you like a thief in the night.

"Did you just—"

you tried to question him, but he picked up the bottle before you could get another word in, closing his eyes and listening to the sounds around him.

he was absolutely blushing, anybody could notice.

you decide that, this time, you'll be the first to kiss him.

Portgas D. Ace

he's in the middle of an entire crowd, surrounded by what must be 50 people. you have one mission— kiss him right on his lips as soon as the countdown reaches zero.

you manage to weave your way through the crowd of people, and stand close to Ace, but not right next to him so you don't give yourself away and subject yourself to knowing looks. (especially from marco)

unbeknownst to you, he was about to seek you out, so he's rather shocked when he spots you right next to him. well, that makes things much, much easier for him, then!

he cannot stop looking at you, and every time you try to peek at him, he's already staring at you.

the countdown was nearly finished but for a few seconds, and he's already turning to you, but you moved far, far quicker.

you manage to reach his lips just as every firework in existence goes off, and surrounding people laugh loudly into the new year, but moments later they notice your little spectacle with Ace.

he's broken the bottle in his hands with the sheer force of his grip.

you, naturally, with so many eyes on you, run off into the night.

"Come back! I wanna kiss you again!"

he runs after you alarmingly fast, and you know there's no room for any protests or excuses, not that you were going to either way.

your second kiss is much, much more tender... and the tender kisses echo far, far into the new year.

Red-Haired Shanks

Shanks was always one for festivities, and he was certainly not gonna miss out on a new years kiss, almost every year of his life somebody was kissing him, or he was kissing them.

unfortunately for you, he locked onto you sooner than you realized, the moment the party began he was watching anybody who got too close, noting that he should probably distract them somehow, so he could keep your lips on him and him only.

he's a greedy pirate, afterall.

he was calm and collected, laughing heartily all while sipping on his favorite alcohol from the West Blue, though those who were close enough knew he was plotting.

"TEN SECONDS EVERYONE!"

"I'll be back." he would whisper to Beck, but the silver-haired man knew better, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

he waltzes towards you with his head held high, his single arm itching to wrap around you, and you two manage to meet halfway.

he kisses you as if it meant nothing, and it looked every bit of casual to those who saw— but whoever was watching definitely wasn't feeling what you felt in the form of his lips, they didn't taste him the way you were, and they definitely weren't on the receiving end of his gentle touch, and you knew it wasn't casual.

he pulls away, though his body was reaching for yours as if you were two opposite poles of two different magnets, not wanting to leave you alone just yet.

"Just so you know, I'm really hoping this won't be our last kiss. How about I take you out for dinner?"

[acupoftaewithsomesuga]

"𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙" • 𝙎𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙬𝙖 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙠

stalker!Seonghwa x fem!reader (dark romance/horror)

summary• the heavy deadlines are no joke and you are constantly packed with work. You stay after work to catch up on some files when you come across Seonghwa. After your interaction that day your mind is filled with him and only him. Little did you know that his mind is filled with you and so is the scrapbook that lays next to his bed. 

warnings• angst, stalking, mental manipulation, crying, breakdown, fear, smut, masturbation, voyeurism, pet names, stripping, praise kink, penetration, unprotected sex, filthy dirty talking, sloppy oral (fem&masc!recieving), choking/gagging, biting, spitting, slapping/spanking, cum eating, rough sex, cream pie, after care. (lmk if I forgot something!) 

videos/audios to view before reading

w/c• 11.2k

a/n• I wanna start by saying that this might trigger many of you so please do not interact if any of the warnings sound like they would mentally put you in a dark space!!! Your mental health matters!!! It is officially the month of Halloween and this is the last member of the OT8 saga!!! I plan on making another one for October (hopefully). All I will say is that Demon Line is gonna bless your feed this October. I also want to thank @rems-writing, @itsnotmydejavu, and @xomakara for helping me with ideas and giving me feedback! Anyway, my inbox is always open! Happy reading!

taglist• @rems-writing @st4rhwa @sugarnspice630 @joongiesmoon @no1likevie @woohwababes @hongjoongswife1 @blackb3ll @staytiny23 @ccalyse 

network• @othersideoutlawsnetwork

•masterlist•

It was another Friday evening and the automatic lights in the office shut off. You looked at the clock beside your desk and sighed, “Almost done just 20 more documents to go through.” Working in one of the most popular accounting and auditing companies in South Korea came with a lot of demands and deadlines. Today was one of those nights where you stayed many hours after your shift was done. Throughout the day you saw people funnel out of the office at 5 pm. It was now 7:00 pm and you looked up to see the sun dimming down. You looked through the large glass window and started to question your purpose.

You quickly brushed away your thoughts and got out of your rolling chair. You made your way to the breakroom and made yourself a cup of coffee. You turned on the coffee maker and tossed the old coffee down the drain. You placed the kettle back in, put a coffee pod into the machine, and pressed start. You waited patiently, thinking about random things that came to your mind. You paced the room, looking at the magnets in the fridge that people have put there over the years. You smile at the fond memories before the coffee machine beeps, indicating that it is done. You grabbed your mug and poured yourself some coffee. You didn’t put anything in it, you left it black. 

You turned around and saw a shadow pass through the glass door causing you to instantly tensed up and suppress a scream. You pull back your sleeve and look at your clock, trying to rationalize who it is. “It’s okay. The janitor is still here. That’s who it is. The janitor,” you whisper to yourself in an attempt to calm yourself down. You reluctantly walk out of the door, your heart racing. You held your breath as you looked around but you saw no one. The air in the office space was still, instilling you to relax a bit. 

You start to walk back to your desk when you realize that someone’s cubicle is illuminating light. You walk over thinking that someone left their computer on which was common when people would leave in a hurry. You turn the corner and see the computer on, and papers scattered on the desk. You reach out to turn off the computer after making sure the document is saved. 

“You’re y/n right?” You heard a male voice say behind you. You jump causing some of your coffee to fling out of your cup and onto the floor. You turned around quickly and saw a tall man in a suit with long black hair that framed his face perfectly. 

“Holy shit you scared the shit out of me,” you laughed, placing your hand on your chest. You take a few deep breaths before chuckling to yourself and looking up at him. 

“Sorry for scaring you,” He says and puts the coffee cup on the desk.

 “It’s okay, just don’t do that again,” you say trying to calm down your heart rate. “I see you're enjoying the coffee,” you joke pointing at the coffee cup in his hand.

“It’s not too bad,” he says before taking another sip. “You’re working late I see.”

You nod and shrug your shoulders, sighing. “Yeah, I have to get this paperwork finished. I’m almost done which is good.” You pause for a moment before speaking again. “You’re Seonghwa?” you ask squinting your eyes.

“Yes that’s me,” Seonghwa says, smiling brightly. He walks closer to you and you notice his tall and broad frame. “You didn’t recognize me huh? That’s a bit disappointing.” He chuckles softly and runs his fingers along the handle of his mug.

“I mean I have seen you around the office and our boss always has good things to say about you. I just couldn’t tell, it’s kinda dark in here,” you chuckle, admiring his beautifully sculpted face. 

“I never understood why they turned off the lights when they know some of us are here late. Did you need any help with your work?” He asked before running his hands along his chair, pulling it from under the desk. You could see he was willing to help but your heart said otherwise. 

“No Seonghwa it’s okay, I’m almost done anyway. I really appreciate the offer though,” You say smiling before sipping your coffee. “I should go get this done, I’ll talk to you later Seonghwa. I’ll see you around?”

“Of course, see you around,” he says as he watches you leave and go back to your cubicle. He pulls out his phone and starts typing away, a small smirk on his face.

You sit back down at your desk and start to work. You get these papers done as fast as possible trying to look over mistakes along the way. You were genuinely exhausted and you started to consider Seonghwa's offer of helping you but you pushed it aside. Your mind was filled with numbers but lingering thoughts arose about Seonghwa. You thought about how attractive he was up close. The way his slender fingers touched his cup and his chair and how good they would look touching you. You quickly brushed away your horny thoughts and got back to work. Let’s not think about dick while we are at work.

“Finally,” you said to yourself before grabbing your laptop bag and gathering all your items. You sling your bag around your shoulder and look up at Seonghwa’s cubical. His light was still on indicating that he was still working. Before you walked out of the office you glanced at Seonghwa, his hair falling onto his face as he focused on his work. He averted his eyes and smiled at you, causing you to smile back. 

Seonghwa waited awhile before he turned off the light and left the office. He saw you drive off and he quickly got into his car. He followed you home, his car a couple of car lengths behind yours. He watched as you went into your duplex. You got ready for bed as usual before you laid down and drifted off to sleep from exhaustion. He watched as your lights went on and then off. He sat in his car staring at the window.

He waited until you were asleep before he got out of his car and walked toward your duplex. He quietly makes his way to your window and peers inside, seeing you sleeping peacefully. He pulls out his camera and takes a picture of you. This was a daily ritual for Seonghwa. To follow you home and bask in your beauty without you knowing. He mainly did it at night so he could watch you for hours. Just sleeping peacefully in your home.

Today was the first time you met Seonghwa. But for Seonghwa this was the thousandth time that he has seen you. He remembers the first time you walked into the office. You looked so clueless but determined to work. He liked that about you. But what he loved most was watching you smile. You did it the most when you were asleep. As he watches you sleep he thinks about what you could be dreaming about. He takes new pictures of you as you toss and turn in your sleep, enjoying the way the moon shined on you.

He continues to watch you, taking more pictures and videos. He loves the way your hair falls across your face as you sleep, the way your lips part slightly, and the soft rise and fall of your chest. He goes home before anyone notices that he has been there. He gets to his house and prints off the pictures he took of you. He opens his scrapbook and glues the pictures of you on the pages. 

He sits on the edge of the bed just admiring you. He flips through the pages looking at all the pictures he has taken over time. He sighs as he thinks about how gorgeous you looked when you did the simplest of things like go to the grocery store, clean your house, cook, watch TV, and shower. He was there for most of the moments. He always liked the weekends because he could follow you around all day. Admiring your beauty.

Seonghwa’s obsession with you grew each day. He would often daydream about you during meetings, pretending to take notes but instead drawing your face over and over again. He would sometimes go to the break room just to hear your voice as you talked to your coworkers. He was obsessed with you and no one would take you away from him. 

You walk around the flea market looking at the farmer's fresh produce. You picked up a few peppers and tomatoes when you looked up and saw Seonghwa. Without hesitation, you walk up to him. “Hey, I haven’t seen you here before! How are you?” you speak in a cheerful tone. His heart skips a beat as he hears your voice. He quickly turns around, his eyes wandering along your frame, admiring the green cottage core dress that hugged your body. He quickly puts on a friendly smile, trying to act natural. You look at his outfit and smile. He wears a black and white striped shirt with black pants. On his feet are black loafers and around his neck is a digital camera. 

“Hey, I'm good. Just browsing around. I've never been to this flea market before, so I thought I'd check it out.”

“Well, you are more than welcome to join me every Sunday. That’s if you’d like. I don’t want to force anything on you,” you smile being polite to him. Little did you know he knew that you came here every Sunday. He had countless pictures of you with your cute strawberry tote bag.

“I’d love to join you. I’ll bring coffee next time. what’s your favorite type of coffee?” Seonghwa asks, feeling giddy. He already knew your favorite type of coffee, he knew what you liked in it too. 

“On days like this, I absolutely love iced coffee.”

“Iced coffee it is then.” Seonghwa pulls out his phone and pretends to make a note, but in reality, he’s typing nothing at all.

“I see you brought your camera. Do you often do photography?” you ask pointing at the camera strapped around his neck. You admire his fingers as they fidget with the lens.

“Yeah, it’s just a hobby of mine. I like capturing scenery.” Seonghwa’s eyes flicker with unsaid words. “Most of my photos are of nature,” Seonghwa says, telling only half the truth. 

“Could you take a picture of me? You can add it to your gallery of nature,” you giggled, posing with your strawberry tote bag and picking vegetables and fruits. Seonghwa forces a smile before lifting his camera and taking a few shots of you. He looks at the images and smiles to himself. 

“Don’t be shy let me see it!” you said giddy waddling next to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa hesitates for a moment before nodding and handing you his camera. He watches as you look through the pictures, his heart pounding in his chest. He hopes you don’t notice the countless photos he took of you before today. Seonghwa's eyes follow your every move.

You smile at the pictures he took and hand him back the camera. “Those are really good Seonghwa. Could you send those to me, please? Here I’ll give you my number,” you said reaching into your bag and pulling out a pen and paper. You write down your number and give it to him. Seonghwa takes the paper, his hands slightly shaking. 

“I’ll send them to you later.” He puts the paper in his pocket, carefully folded. “Let’s keep shopping.”

Throughout the next few hours, you walk around together and pick up fresh produce. You both talk about your favorite things to do and he opens up to you about his life. You feel this connection with Seonghwa and you have no idea why. He understands you on a whole other level. It’s almost like you both have known each other for years. 

“I don’t hang out with people outside of work. You’re the first one that I’ve actually been out and about with. It’s nice,” you say the autumn wind picking up causing the remaining leaves on the tree to fall. 

“I don’t go out much either. You're the first person I've spent time with like this in a long time.” Seonghwa says, his breath visible in the cool air. He looks at you as the leaves fall around you. You smile as he lifts his camera and takes a picture of you. Your heart starts to swell as he looks at the picture smiling. 

“Let me take a picture of you Seonghwa,” you say softly, reaching out for the camera.

He hands you the camera, his eyes never leaving yours. “Okay,” he says softly. You raise the camera and snap a picture of him. Through the lens, he looks even more handsome, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. You smile from ear to ear as you look at the picture and then hand him back the camera. 

“Thank you for today Seonghwa,” you look at him for a minute. “And thank you for walking me to my car,” you say taking out your keys.

“Anytime,” he trails off. He wants to ask for a hug or even a kiss, but he holds back. He doesn’t want to scare you off. “Text me when you get home, please?”

“Yeah, I will thanks, remember to send me those pictures. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

“I will… See you tomorrow.” Seonghwa watches as you get in your car and drive away. He stands there, in the parking lot, until your car disappears from sight. Then he gets in his own car and drives home, his heart racing with the excitement of finally getting close to you.

You walk into work with a smile on your face. You start it as normal as usual, grabbing a coffee and going to your desk. When you get to your desk you see an iced coffee and a card next to it. You smile to yourself before opening the card. “Dinner at my place Friday night? -Seonghwa.” You chuckled to yourself before taking the iced coffee and going to Seonghwa’s cubicle. He looks up as you approach his cubicle, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“Morning,” he says, his eyes darting to the coffee in your hand. “I see you found my note.” He leans back in his chair, watching you.

“Yes I did,” you grinned looking at him and then at the ground. “Dinner this Friday at your place sounds like a good plan,” you agree shyly, everting your eyes back up at him. Seonghwa's face lights up with joy. 

“Really?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper. He can't believe you said yes. “I'll cook! I mean, if that's okay with you,” He rambles, nervous but excited.

“Of course, that is okay with me!” you express flashing him a cute smile. You glance around before getting closer to him and leaning down to whisper in his ear. “And thank you so much for the iced coffee.” Seonghwa's face turns a light shade of pink at your close proximity. He can smell your perfume, and it's driving him crazy. 

“You're welcome,” he whispers back. He wishes you would stay close forever, but you pull away and he's left craving more.

“I’ll see you later Seonghwa, I have to get some work done. And now I have to be extra focused since I’ll be with you Friday night.” He nods eagerly as he watches as you walk away, his eyes glued to your figure. He turns back to his computer, a goofy grin plastered on his face. He's like a love-struck teenager, infatuated with you.

Throughout the whole week, you complete as much paperwork as possible and attentively listen to every meeting you are in. When you have small breaks you go to chat with Seonghwa. You learn about Seonghwas's photography collection and his massive collection of Legos. You learn more about his family and where he is from. You feel so comfortable with Seonghwa that you talk to him about your past and your struggles. In this little time you have known him you were head over heels for him. No man has ever understood you as he does. 

It was now Thursday evening and it was late. You caught up with all your work for the week but Seonghwa on the other hand was behind. You stayed a little bit later just to get everything done so you wouldn’t have any work to do tomorrow, just meetings. You get up from your cubicle, the automatic lights in the building going off. You walk over to Seonghwa’s cubicle and see him typing away. He was so focused on his screen. He had his black wire glasses on which made him look extremely attractive to you. “You still working?” 

Seonghwa looks up from his computer, his eyes meeting yours. “Yeah,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “I'm so behind,” He blinks a few times, his eyes tired from staring at the screen for so long. “What are you still doing here?”

“I just got done with my paperwork for the week. And I just wanted to finish it up so I didn’t have any paperwork to do on Friday,” you say, looking at the stack of reports pilled onto his desk.

“Oh,” he says softly, taking off his glasses and setting them down on his desk. “Well I still have a lot to do,” he says, looking more stressed than usual, his demeanor towards you was standoffish. He wasn't like his usual self but you tried to continue to be cheerful and optimistic. 

“I can always come to help you Seonghwa. Then after we can leave and have that dinner you were talking about,” you smile but his expression doesn’t waver. You look at him for a moment trying to search for any emotion other than frustration. “Seonghwa. I know you’re irritated but just know I’m here to help you when you need me,” you express before putting your fingers under his chin, guiding his gaze to you. “Oh look at you, you’re so exhausted,” you pout, rubbing your thumb against his cheek softly. Seonghwa's expression softens and he leans into your touch, craving more of it. 

“I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. I'm just. Frustrated.” He sighs, his shoulders slumping.

“It’s okay, you are working hard. I see how stressed you are and I just want to make it better,” you softly say matching his gaze. 

On the surface, Seonghwa looked to be stressed out about work but the truth is he was stressed because he didn’t get to see you sleeping. He didn’t get to take pictures of you because of work and it was driving him insane. Only being able to see you at work wasn’t enough. He wanted to be outside your window admiring you every single night but he couldn’t do that. He was swamped with work this week and he had to meet this deadline.

You’ve never seen someone so vulnerable till this moment. You felt bad and you didn’t know what to do. You grab onto his hand and pull him out of his rolling chair. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear. “Seonghwa, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be stressed out like this. Will this make it somewhat better?” you say before kissing him softly causing Seonghwa's heart to skip a beat. He feels like he's in heaven, and for a moment, all his stress and frustration melt away. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close, returning the kiss with a soft sigh. 

"Maybe," he says, his words barely above a whisper. 

“Seonghwa I really like you,��� you express looking up at him.

“I like you too, a lot,” he trails off, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And not just because you’re beautiful. But because you understand me like no one else does.”

“I feel the same way,” you confess, cupping his face and bringing him in for another kiss. Seonghwa smiles against your lips, deepening the kiss. His hands wander to your back, caressing it softly. Seonghwa smiles into the kiss, happier than he's ever been. 

“Tomorrow I can help you with your paperwork since I have nothing to do tomorrow. Then we can go back to your place and have our dinner,” you whisper tucking his long hair behind his ear causing Seonghwa's heart to swell from your touch.

 “Okay,” he says softly, nuzzling into your hand. He's glad that you're offering to help him, but he also feels bad for imposing on your time off. “Are you sure?” He questions, causing you to look into his eyes and then press your forehead against his. 

“Seonghwa I’m sure, you don’t have to do it alone,” you say caressing his arm. You feel a warmth spread through your hand as the tips of your fingers make contact with him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, burying his face in your neck. You reach up and run your fingers up the back of his head and through his hair. You nod in response to his thank you before speaking, “I should go home. Don’t stay here all night okay? I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Mhm,” he hums softly, nuzzling his face further into your neck. “I won't, I’ll leave after I’m done with this folder. Drive safe for me okay?” he says, smoothing down your hair.

“I will be safe promise. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say before pulling away from the hug. Your hands linger on him, not wanting to let go. You kiss his cheek before turning around and waving at him with a cute pout. Seonghwa watches you walk away, his heart feeling full. He sits back down at the desk, trying to focus on the paperwork, but his mind keeps wandering back to you. He finishes up the folder and turns off his computer. He sighs and looks at a picture of you that he has of you on his phone. Admiring how gorgeous you look, smiling to himself knowing that you will be in his presence all of tomorrow. 

When he gets back home he looks at the leather scrapbook, looking at pictures that he took of you in the pool during the summertime. His mind races at the idea of you possibly giving him what he has been waiting for. He grows hard as he looks at the way your boobs look in your bikini. He starts to breath heavy as he pulls his dick out and starts to stroke himself. He holds the scrapbook in one hand and his dick in the other. He moans your name until he cums all over the pictures of you. He laughs to himself when he is done knowing that your hand will be replacing his soon.

“Holy shit we did it Seonghwa,” you exclaim looking at your watch. “And it’s only 4:30 pm!” You said bouncing in the rolling chair next to his desk. It was finally the end of the day and you were both eager to get back to Seonghwa’s house to hang out and have dinner together. The week felt long but it was worth it especially since you both get to spend extra time with each other outside of work.

Seonghwa grins at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "We make a great team," he says, packing up his laptop and putting on his coat. "Let's get out of here. I'm starving." He offers you his hand to help you up from the chair. You take his hand and squeeze it tightly before placing the rolling chair back where you found it.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you smile, making Seonghwa’s heart flutter. You both walk to your cars parked right next to each other. “I’ll follow you okay!” you say giving him a thumbs up. Seonghwa chuckles and then smiles before he gets into his car and starts it. You do the same, your heart pounding in your chest at the idea of finally going to his house. He pulls out of the parking lot and you follow him.

He drives carefully, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror to make sure you're still behind him. He's nervous about you coming over, wanting everything to be perfect. As he pulls into his driveway, he lets out a sigh of relief. You park your car next to his and turn off your car. You get out and walk towards his vehicle, your heels clicking against the pavement. He steps out of his car, his coat flapping in the wind. He walks over to you and takes your hand, intertwining your fingers together. 

"Come on, let's get inside," he says softly, leading you up the steps to his front door. You squeeze his hand tightly, a shit-eating grin plastered onto your face. 

“Such a nice house. You should have brought me here sooner,” you express as Seonghwa takes out his keys and unlocks the door. He chuckles at your comment, opening the door and ushering you inside. 

"I agree," he says, closing the door behind you. "But better late than never, right?" He hangs up his coat and helps you out of yours, hanging it up as well. “Make yourself at home.” With that you start to take off your heels at the door, your bare skin touching the hardwood floor. For a moment you admire the way the floor looks, lost in the wood grain. You suddenly look up and see Seonghwa holding up a bouquet of peonies. Your eyes grow wide for a minute before blinking rapidly. 

“Seonghwa these are beautiful, you didn’t have to get me these,” you gasp reaching out for them and pouting slightly. You lean down and smell them your heart warming up and your mind swelling with memories. “How did you know I liked peonies Seonghwa?” You smile looking at him with admiration.

Seonghwa blushes slightly, averting his gaze. "I didn’t know you like peonies. They just reminded me of you and I decided to get them,” he lied, plastering a sincere smile across his face. In reality, he looked through your Facebook to find a picture of you when you were young, standing in front of peonies at your grandmother's house. He chose those because he knew you would have an emotional response to them.

“They are gorgeous Seonghwa thank you,” you express pulling him into a hug, causing him to smile. Knowing that what he did worked. He ran his fingers down your back and pulled you closer to his body. You took this as a signal to kiss him. You pressed your lips against his in a tender kiss. Seonghwa's arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against his chest as he returns the kiss, his lips moving softly against yours. After a moment, he gently pulls away, his hands still resting on your waist. 

"I'm glad you like them," he says, his voice low and warm. You giggle, pressing a small peck on his cheek. 

“Let’s put them in some water,” you say before pulling away and walking to his kitchen. Seonghwa watches you walk away, his eyes never leaving your figure. He loved the way that tight dress looked on you, hugging your curves in all the right places. His thoughts were cloudy, he couldn't help but think that you wore that dress on purpose. To fuck with him, to toy with his desires for you. 

He follows you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he watches you fill a vase with water and arrange the flowers. After putting the flowers in the vase you walk up to Seonghwa and rest your arms on his shoulders. He instinctively places his hands on your waist and you gaze into each other's eyes for a moment. Both of your bodies swaying back and forth. 

“So what are we having for dinner,” you say, breaking the silence. Seonghwa grins squeezing your waist tightly. 

“How does sundubu jjigae sound? I also bought some odeng yesterday to go with it,” he smiles knowing that’s your favorite dish to eat causing you to raise an eyebrow in surprise. You never told him you liked sundubu jjigae, but you just figured that it was a coincidence since it was a popular dish. 

“That sounds amazing Seonghwa,” you whisper kissing him softly. He returns the kiss eagerly, his hands squeezing your waist gently. 

"Great," he murmurs against your lips before pulling away. "I'll start on the sundubu jjigae. Why don't you go relax in the living room? I'll call you when dinner's ready."

You pull away and squeeze his hand, reluctantly leaving the kitchen. You wanted to help make food with him but you didn’t want to protest against it. You sit in the living room and turn on the TV, trying to occupy your mind. 

As Seonghwa cooks, he hums softly to himself, stirring the ingredients together in the large pot. He glances at the clock, satisfied with how quickly things are progressing. As the jjigae begins to bubble, he turns off the heat and calls out to you. 

"It's ready!" you hear Seonghwa yell from the kitchen.

You get up from the couch and make your way to the kitchen. Once you enter he’s already seated at the table with everything set out for both of you to eat. You both smile brightly as you walk over to him and sit down right next to him. 

“The food looks good Seonghwa,” you compliment before pressing your lips against his cheek, your lips lingering on his skin. His face flushes slightly at the gentle kiss on his cheek, his heart skipping a beat. He picks up his spoon and begins to eat, encouraging you to do the same. As you both eat, he notices how much you enjoy the food, your eyes lighting up with each bite. 

You both continue to eat, enjoying each other's company. You look at the bottle of wine and your eyes gaze at the label. “Oh wow even my favorite wine,” you chuckle holding up a bottle of white wine. You pour both of you a glass and you lift yours. “Here’s to the weekend?” Seonghwa smiles warmly and clinks his glass against yours. 

"To the weekend," he echoes, taking a sip of the wine. His eyes never leave yours, admiring your beauty over the rim of his glass. As you both continue to eat and drink, the atmosphere grows more relaxed and intimate.

After you are both done eating you look at Seonghwa. At this time the tension between both of you was present. You were both alone, with no other coworkers and no cubical walls in the way. You were needy for his touch and you didn’t know what to do. Your heart was telling you to make love to him but your mind was thinking otherwise. The alcohol wasn’t helping causing you to become slightly tipsy. While he was eating you couldn’t help but look at his slender and long fingers as he held his spoon. The way they grasped onto the wine glass so elegantly. You took your wine and drank all of it in one fellow swoop. Seonghwa looked at you and awed at the way your neck was sculpted. His mind clouded with thoughts of how you would look with his dick down your throat. You looked Seonghwa in his eyes as you rubbed his thigh. Your heart was racing but you wanted him so fucking bad.

Seonghwa's eyes meet yours, his own pupils dilating as he watches you rub his thigh. He swallows hard, his voice husky as he asks, "What are you thinking about?" He places his hand over yours, intertwining their fingers as he slowly moves your hand higher up his thigh. You swallowed hard not wanting to tell him the naughty things you wish he would do to you. Instead, you switched your focus, squeezing his thigh slightly. 

“What are you thinking about?” you say, your gaze lingering on his lips before shifting back to his eyes. 

Leaning in close, Seonghwa's warm breath fans against your ear as he whispers, "I'm thinking about how much I want to make love to you right now." His hand on yours guides it even higher, bringing it to rest over the growing bulge in his pants. You smile and bite your lower lip to his response. You can feel your body getting hotter by the second. You rub your hand against his growing dick, feeling how long he is under your fingertips causing his breathing to hitch. 

“What else Seonghwa?”

"I want to hear you moan my name as I pleasure you. I want to bury my face between your thighs and make you come apart."

“Oh Seonghwa,” you gasp, your heart rate becoming faster as you listen to what he just said.

Seonghwa's hand tightens around yours, pressing it firmly against his throbbing cock. He grinds against your palm, his eyes locked with yours. Seonghwa's hand leaves yours, and he begins to slowly unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned chest. "I want you to touch me, to explore my body," he murmurs, his eyes locked onto yours. "I want you to know what it feels like to be with me." You move your hands up to his chest and rub softly. You start to kiss his neck, humming slightly as you feel his pulse against your lips. Seonghwa leans his head to the side to give you better access, he lets out a soft moan at your gentle kisses.

“I’d love to explore you Seonghwa,” you whisper against his neck.

"Please, touch me everywhere," he begs softly, his body trembling slightly under your hands. He reaches up to caress your thigh, gently tracing patterns on your skin. "Please," he begs softly, "Please let me take you to the bedroom. I need you." 

“Yes please,” you say causing both of you to get up from your chairs. Seonghwa then sweeps you off your feet and carries you to his bedroom. Once you reach the room he lets you down and starts to kiss you passionately.

Seonghwa's kisses are urgent and passionate, his hands roaming your body as he walks you backward towards the bed. He breaks the kiss only to speak against your lips, "I want to touch every inch of you." As you kiss him passionately, he slowly begins to undress you. His hands unzip your dress and push it off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet. He breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down your neck and collarbone, his hands caressing your curves.

You let out a few gasps at his eager kissing causing you to press your thighs together. You reach out and start to unbutton the rest of his shirt. You tugged at his sleeves which signaled him to take off his shirt completely. You run your hands down his chest and to his abs as he desperately kisses your neck. The room fills with your needy whimpers and you trail your fingers down to his belt, unbuckling it quickly. His hands move up to cup your boobs, squeezing them gently. He hums against your neck, biting softly as he feels your fingers unbutton and unzip his pants. You push them down, letting them hit the ground. You run your fingers against his shaft causing him to moan against your skin before he presses his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

His hands roam your body as he tries to remove the rest of your clothing. He gently squeezes your boobs before he breaks the kiss to tug your bra off, discarding it on the floor. He curls his long slender fingers around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs, and steps out of his pants. He kisses your jaw and neck before lifting you and placing you on the edge of his bed. He takes a minute to worship your body, placing kisses down your neck to your hardened peeks. He kisses your nipples softly causing you to let out a needful whine.

“Seonghwa I’m so wet,” you whimper, squeezing your thighs together to suppress the overwhelming throbbing. Seonghwa's eyes look down, his hands reaching to nudge your thighs apart. He drops to his knees in front of you, his face hovering over your dripping core. He inhales deeply, his nose buried in your pussy, before licking you from bottom to top in one long stroke.

“Fuuuck,” you breathe out, a long desperate moan escaping your lips as you feel his long tongue run circles against your clit. You grip onto his sheets and look down, your eyes meeting. He was looking up at you from between your thighs, his tongue continuing its slow licking. 

"You taste so good, my love," he murmurs, his eyes locked with yours. He slips two fingers inside of you, curling them upwards as his tongue returns to lavish attention on your swollen bud. You moan his name, trembling slightly as he pleases you. Your head spiraled at the sight of him. You were so sensitive, not being with someone for a long time progressed this pleasure. Seonghwa increases his pace, his fingers pumping into you as his mouth suctions onto your core. He watches as your face contorts with pleasure, your eyes fluttering closed. 

"Look at me," he demands, his voice muffled against your flesh. Your eyes slowly open, as you move your hand behind his head. You start to softly grind against his fingers and face, moaning in ecstasy as he meets your gaze. 

“J-just like that Seonghwa,” you whimper trying to catch your breath. He hums against your core, his fingers beckoning inside of you as his mouth seals around your throbbing nub. He maintains eye contact as you tighten around his fingers, your breathing hitching as your face scrunches up with pleasure.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you breathe, watching how he sucks on your swollen clit. Seonghwa doesn't stop, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony. The room fills with slurping sounds and your desperate needy moans. You can feel your walls starting to tremble around his fingers as he sucks harder on your clit. He knows you're close, so he adds a third finger, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside of you. You let out an eager broken moan, throwing your head back and grasping his hair tighter. He removed his fingers, replacing his fingers with his long tongue. You felt his tongue delve deep into your pussy making your back arch, causing Seonghwa to moan against your core. You whimper his name and press his head down further, wanting to feel him lick your walls further. Your pussy clenches around his invading tongue as he caresses your walls. His nose was gliding against your throbbing clit, eager to be sucked again. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he devours you. 

He removes his tongue out of your pussy and rubs his fingers along your sensitive bud. He spits on your pussy before slurping it back up and lapping his tongue along your clit again. A long guttural moan escapes your lips as he starts to suck again. Seonghwa's hands tighten on your thighs as he buries his face in your soaked core, his tongue lashing against your swollen bud. He can hear your ragged breaths and desperate moans, egging him on as you buck against his face.

“I’m going to cum don’t stop,” you moan feeling your core tighten. Seonghwa's response is muffled against your flesh as he redoubles his efforts, sucking harder and faster on your sensitive clit. He feels your fingers tighten in his hair and your thighs clamp around his head as you reach the peak of your pleasure.

You let go of his hair and grasp tightly onto the sheets. Your eyes roll back and the loud moan of his name fills the room as you cum. Your core tightens and your pussy starts to tremble. You quickly start to close your thighs around Seonghwa’s head but he pushes them open. Pressing your knees against your chest forcefully. He keeps sucking on your clit causing your body to shake involuntarily. You moan his name repeatedly like a mantra as you watch him continue to suckle and lap at your sensitive clit, drawing out every last wave of pleasure. He can feel your juices flooding his mouth and chin as your body convulses.

Your body goes limp as he pulls away, your juices dripping down his chin as he rubs your thigh. Your legs tremble rapidly as you can still feel yourself coming. He gets up off his knees and watches how your body reacts to what he has done to you causing him to smile. You let out a long groan before looking up at him. You sit up and bask in the beauty of his wet face. You suddenly open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Without even having to ask Seonghwa spits in your mouth before kissing you passionately. You moan against his lips at the fact that he knew exactly what you wanted, swallowing a combination of both of you.

Seonghwa deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as you swallow. He grins against your lips, finding your eagerness endearing. "You like that, don't you?" he murmurs, pulling away slightly to nuzzle your nose. "Want more?"

“Is that even a question,” you state hungrily running your hands down his abs to his shaft. You rub him through his boxers wanting his dick down your throat. Seonghwa's grin widens at your eager response, his fingers rubbing your wrist. 

"Greedy," he murmurs, "On your knees," he commands softly. "Show me how much you want it."

You obey and side down to the ground, looking up at him in awe. You curl your fingers around his boxers and pull them down. His dick slaps against your face, his precum dripping on your skin. You are in shock at how huge he is, wrapping your hand around him. You start to slowly stroke him, looking at his veins. His breathing grows heavy, and his abs flex with each intake. He tangles his fingers in your hair, guiding your head forward. "Open your mouth," he orders, his voice low.

You look up at him as you open your mouth, a smile playing on your lips as you glide his tip onto your tongue. Seonghwa lets out an array of curses before he reaches the bedside table and opens the drawer. You swirl your tongue around his tip, licking all of the precum off and humming at the taste of him. He reaches into the drawer and grabs his digital camera. He waves it around in his hand, his lips turning into a smirk. You remove your mouth and nod your head. 

“Add them to your nature collection,” you say before wrapping your mouth around his head and sucking gently. Seonghwa chuckles darkly as he aims the camera at your face, capturing the moment you take his dick back into your mouth. He starts snapping photos, his other hand still tangled in your hair. 

"So pretty," he cooed, watching you through the camera lens.

You start to move your head down further onto his dick, looking up at him as he snaps pictures of you. You grab onto his base slowly moving your head back and forth, trying your best to take down his long cock. He groans as he feels your mouth enveloping his shaft. He continues to take pictures, immortalizing the sight of you servicing him. 

"That's it, take it deep," he encourages, his voice strained with pleasure. "I want to see those pretty lips stretched around me."

Your eyes roll back and you moan against him in response to his filthy words. This fuels you to go deeper, gagging slightly at the feeling of his tip touching your uvula. You force down more until you feel him hit the back of your throat. He groans as he watches his dick disappear in your mouth and for a second he feels like he is going to instantly cum.

Overwhelmed by the sensation, you see Seonghwa's hand tremble, causing the camera to shake. He quickly steadies it, determined to capture every moment. "Just like that y/n," he manages to say between ragged breaths. "Look at me while you take me." He wants to see your eyes watering, wants to see the intensity of your expression as you work to please him. You continue to keep a steady pace, his dick sliding down your throat. You moan desperately as you feel how perfectly he fits in your mouth. Your lips wrapped around him, sucking eagerly.

Seonghwa's face is contorted in sheer bliss as he watches you bob your head up and down. The sound of the shutter clicking rapidly fills the room, documenting the moment you're gagging on his thick length. You moan against him, your tongue gliding against his shaft as you rock your head back and forth. 

"You look so innocent, but you're taking me so well," he groans as saliva starts to trail down your mouth and to your chin. The sloppy interaction causes you to reach down and play with your clit.

"That’s right, touch yourself for me," he demands, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see you get off while you worship my cock with that pretty mouth."

You whimper as you feel Seonghwa’s hand press against the back of your head, his dick shoving deep down your throat. Your mouth is now touching your hand that was wrapped around the base of his cock. Your fingers move faster onto your clit as you start to gag around him.  All you wanted to do was please him, your hunger was overwhelming and you couldn’t stop. Seonghwa's hips buck forward as you remove your hand from around his base and place it on his thigh for stability. He grunts, his hand tightening on the camera as he records the sight of you pleasure-seeking while your mouth is stuffed with his dick.  

"You're doing so good, baby. Choke on it," he groans, a mischievous smile painted onto his face. The room fills with the sound of you gagging as he pushes your head down further. You try to gasp for air but you can’t, his dick blocking your airways. He tilts the camera downwards, capturing the tears streaming down your puffy cheeks and the desperate way you're clawing at his thighs. 

"You can't breathe with my dick lodged in your throat can you baby?" he pants, his own breath hitching as he nears the edge. 

You feel his twitch inside your mouth as he gazes into your eyes. His face contorts in pleasure as he pulls your hair, removing your mouth from his dick. You start to gasp for air, your grasp on his thighs weakening. You look up at him as he throws his head back, his eyebrows scrunched, a guttural moan escaping his lips. You watch as his cum spills onto your face, coating your cheeks and your lips. You lean forward and kiss his tip as he continues to cum in short spurts causing some to drip down your chin and onto your chest. 

You watch in awe as his body shutters, his orgasm subsiding. Seonghwa looks down, his eyelids heavy as he gazes onto your face glistening with his seed. His mouth turned into a grin, a mischievous chuckle vibrating in his throat. Breathing heavily, Seonghwa lowers the camera, using two fingers to scoop up the mess from your cheeks and push it past your lips. A shuttering sound could be heard again, capturing his fingers gliding against your cheeks. 

"Clean it up, baby," he says softly, his voice hoarse.

You nod in agreement, swirling your tongue around his fingers as you make direct eye contact with him. He shivers as he watches you, his dick already growing hard again. You lick all of his essence from his fingers, moaning at the taste of him. Savoring the taste of your hard work like it was a reward. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth slowly, trailing spit and cum between your lips. 

"You're so perfect like this, marked by me, tasting me. You've been such a good girl for me," he praises, his voice a low rumble. 

“I’m your good girl Seonghwa,” you breathed, looking up at him with those innocent eyes. You shift slightly, your core dripping wet and ready to be fucked. “What are you going to do to me now?” You whisper, waiting patiently for orders.

"Lie down on the bed sweetheart," Seonghwa commands, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You obey your orders and rise from your knees. You press your body against him before giving him a desperate kiss. He wraps his arms around you and trails his hands to your ass, squeezing tightly. The kiss becomes sloppy as both of your tongues dance against each other. You take a deep breath before pulling away, sucking on his bottom lip. He smirks, before biting his bottom lip.

“On the bed. Now,” he demands again causing you to turn around and do as you were told. You feel a firm slap on your ass as you crawled on top of the bed. “Good girl,” Seonghwa whispered, causing you to whimper. 

He sets the camera aside and walks over to the bed, his gaze drinking in the sight of you waiting for him. You watch as he lays on top of you, positioning himself between your legs. He leans down and kisses you passionately, enjoying the feeling of your soft lips against his. Savoring the moment of the both of you together. You feel Seonghwa grind his body against yours, his semi-hard dick rubbing against your wet core. His hands roam over your curves possessively. 

“I love you,” he breathes against your lips, his voice filled with passion.

“I love you too,” you express, pressing your lips closer to his as you move your hips in unison with his. 

"Let me fuck you, baby. I want to feel you completely lose it around me," he says, his hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he increases the pace. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning against your skin. 

“Please,” you breathe, feeling your swollen bud glide against his shaft. Seonghwa groans against your neck at your pleading, holding back the urge to completely destroy you. To hear your pleading moans as he slams into your sopping-wet core. He looks back up at you and presses another greedy kiss against your lips. You were losing control as you reached down and guided his tip against your entrance. 

“Fuck me Seonghwa please,” you beg causing Seonghwa to nod slowly as he gazed into your eyes. You gasp and moan in ecstasy as he slowly enters you, his thick girth stretching you wide. You claw at his side softly at the new sensation, biting your bottom lip involuntarily. He leans down and presses a searing kiss on your lips. You feel him shiver slightly as he feels you clench around him. His dick twitches inside you, trying his best to get used to how you wrap around him. He moans against your mouth, whispering sweet nothings as he buries himself into you. 

"You're so warm, so tight. Only for me, right?" 

“Only for you,” you moan, your head spinning as you feel his tip kiss your cervix. Seonghwa groans at your reply, never breaking eye contact. Seonghwa starts to move within you, his hips rolling in a slow, rhythmic dance. His eyes stay locked onto yours, his face contorted in a mask of pure ecstasy. 

"I want to make love to you like this forever," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion.

“Forever,” you whimper, rubbing your hand on his cheek to pull him in closer. You kiss his lips, moaning against them as he thrusts into you slowly. 

Seonghwa's pace quickens as he feels you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper. His hands slide underneath you, gripping your bottom possessively as he continues to whisper his love for you against your lips.

“Seonghwa,” you moan out his name, throwing your head back. You can feel his dick gliding in and out of you effortlessly, your walls quivering around him. 

"Look at me," he demands, his voice husky with desire. He holds your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as he thrusts into you with renewed vigor. "I love you, I love you, I love you." He repeats, his eyebrows scrunching together. You whimper as you stare into his eyes, your eyelids heavy. You moan in ecstasy as you claw at his side. 

“I love you,” you manage to breathe out, your heart beating out of your chest. Seonghwa then captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as you feel your walls starting to flutter around him. He increases his pace, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust.

“Don’t stop,” you moan, pressing your forehead against his as you close your eyes to savor the feeling of him fucking you into oblivion.

"I won't baby I promise," Seonghwa groans, his jaw clenched as he powers into you. His arms tighten around you, his hands gripping you with a fierce possessiveness. The sound of Seonghwa’s eager thrust fills the room along with both of your desperate moans and groans. You feel him grip the sheets tightly beside your head, his thrust becoming out of control.

“Take that dick baby, take all of it,” he groans, slamming into you harder. You throw your head onto the mattress, your eyes rolling back as he fucks you rough. You moan Seonghwa’s name loudly, your cries bouncing off the walls of his bedroom. With every fast and rough thrust, you feel your juices leak out of your pussy and onto his sheets. You can hear how wet his dick is from the squelching noise that emanates from your core. Loud slapping from your bodies fills the room along with the loud sound of the headboard hitting aggressively against the wall. 

You say his name in a long moan, your head spiraling as you feel him thrust into your g-spot repeatedly. You arch your back and he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself further into you. He leans down and captures your neck on his lips. He kisses and sucks desperately at your skin, leaving hickeys along your neck. 

“Take it y/n,” he whispers against your neck as he continues to fuck you at the same rough and fast pace. Your walls clench harder around his dick and the knot in your core starts to tighten. You move your hands from his sides to his back, scratching along his skin. 

"Y-you're so close, aren't you?" Seonghwa pants, his eyes locked onto yours. His hands slide down to your hips, tilting them up so that he can hit that spot that drives you wild.

“Fuck Seonghwa please,” you gasp, your legs shaking involuntarily. 

"Please what, sweetheart?" he asks teasingly, his tone wavering because he's just as close to the edge as you are. He leans down to capture one of your nipples between his lips, his tongue swirling around it roughly. “Look at me when you say it,” he demands. 

“I’m gonna cum, please let me cum,” you breathe out as he continues to slam into you repeatedly.

"Look at me and beg me to let you come apart," Seonghwa says in a breathless tone. His pace quickens, his hips thrusting into you with a force that leaves you breathless.

“Please!” you whine out your pussy clenching tighter against his dick. “I can’t- I can’t hold it. Baby please!” you whimper eagerly, your voice echoing through the room.

"Please what?" Seonghwa asks, his voice a low groan. He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes boring into yours. “Look at me, my love,” he demands.

“Please let me cum please,” you beg your face contorted with pleasure as you feel yourself about to release. He lets out a low groan as your walls clamp down around him. 

"You can let go, sweetheart," he breathes, his pace quickening as he slams into you. “Look at me as cum,” he demands again. 

You look into his eyes before your eyes roll back at the intoxicating pleasure that radiates through your body. Your core is overwhelmed with pure satisfaction and you start to feel your body release around him. You moan his name so loud that it penetrates through the walls and throughout the house. Your walls clench aggressively tight around him as your pussy quivers. You claw at his back leaving visible scratch marks. Your vision is blurred and you start to shake again. Seonghwa throws his head back, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as your release milks his own from him. His body stiffens as he releases into you, his pace slowing as he drives into you deeply one last time. His body shakes as he releases into you.

“Oh my god Seonghwa,” you gasp, your body jerking involuntarily.

"Oh, y/n," Seonghwa pants, his body slumping forward as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap protectively around you, his hands caressing your back soothingly as he tries to calm your trembling body. You feel Seonghwa press soft kisses against your skin, and your body shutters lightly in his grasp before it subsides. You let out a satisfied sigh, feeling content with how everything went.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice gentle. "You were perfect today," he adds, his hands continuing to caress your back. He slowly eases out of you and lies beside you, pulling you close.

“I-I love you too,” you whispered, completely and utterly in love with the man you just had intimate sex with. You gaze into his eyes for a moment, rubbing circles on his biceps, completely effectuated with him. Seonghwa cups your face tenderly, his thumb brushing over your cheek gently as he meets your gaze. You are both drunk off of each other, your heart swelling with unconditional love. 

"My sweet, perfect love," he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion. He leans in, capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss, your lips move against each other slowly. Your hands roam his body softly, worshiping him and all the work he just did. You admire the way his arms flex against your grasp and the way he relaxes when you rub his side. You break from the kiss and look up at him for a moment. 

“That was amazing, no one has ever made me feel that good,” you blush, recalling everything that happened between the both of you. A smirk plays on Seonghwa's lips, his hands squeezing your backside possessively. 

"Good," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're mine and only mine. I promise to keep making you feel that good, forever. You deserve only the best. And every time will only get better." He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. He then kisses you again, his hands roaming over your body.

You’re eyes flutter closed from his touch. You were completely exhausted from the long week and this was exactly what you needed. A nice dinner, a great conversation, a make-out session, and some good dick. You slowly felt yourself drift asleep from hearing Seonghwa’s breathing. As you closed your eyes you felt him get up from the bed, leaving a cold spot beside you. Once he came back you could feel him cleaning you up gently with a towel before he laid right back beside you. He pressed his body against yours, rubbing his hands against your thighs and tummy. 

“Get some rest, my love, I’ll be here when you wake up,” you heard Seonghwa say before he pulled the covers over both of you. You smiled to yourself when you felt his lips kiss your cheek.

You suddenly wake up and look at your surroundings. The room is dark, the only thing casting light is the full moon. You feel Seonghwa’s arms wrapped around yours and you smile, caressing your hand against his skin. 

You slowly get up, trying not to wake Seonghwa. The bed frame lightly creeks along with the hardwood floor as you make your way to the bathroom to use it. Your mind flashes with images of Seonghwa pleasing you and you can’t help but want more. You turn on the light and wince at the bright room before you walk over to use the bathroom. You keep thinking about the way he treats you and how loved you truly feel. For the first time in forever, you feel like you have found someone you can spend your life with. You knew that being in love with him so soon was cliche but you didn’t care. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

You take a deep breath and wash your hands before walking back to his room. You look at Seonghwa’s figure as he sleeps, the gentle rising and falling of his breath. Your gaze moves to the bedside table where he placed the camera. Right next to it is a leather scrapbook that has “photos” engraved into the leatherback. You pick it up and smile, thinking about how beautiful his nature pictures must be. Your fingers glide against the strings before undoing them. You then open the book. 

Your heart sinks. 

The beautiful smile on your face then turns into pure fear. Your eyes grow wide as you go through the pages. Pictures of you on your second day of work, in the parking lot, at the pool, the gym, the grocery store, the flea market, the bar. Detailed notes were written under each photo and it caused your skin to crawl. You felt like you were going to have a panic attack, the way your chest was rapidly rising and falling, your breathing becoming shallow, and your heart beating out of your chest. You looked up quickly to make sure Seonghwa was still asleep. You grabbed your clothes off of the ground and frantically made your way to the living room. You struggled to put on your dress, your hands shaking. 

Tears started to stream down your cheeks as the adrenaline started to kick in. You looked around the dark living room trying to find your purse and phone. You quickly walk to the kitchen and find them lying on the counter. As you grab your belongings you look down at the trash. You see a takeout container for sundubu jjigae. Everything was a lie, everything he did and said was a lie. You started to hyperventilate but you had to get the fuck out of there. 

You rushed back to the living room and started to put on your heels. Many emotions were running through your mind, but you needed to put those aside until you got out of There. Your flight or fight response was high and you were completely ready to flee. But you freeze in place as you see a tall shadow walk from around the corner in your peripheral. You go numb and you don’t know what to do. Your body is in shock. You grab the nob eagerly and try to unlock the door but you can’t. 

“Looks like you caught me, princess.” Tears start to flow rapidly from your eyes and you let out a broken cry. 

“Seonghwa please let me go, if you truly love me please,” you beg, trying to open the door. His voice is cold, devoid of any warmth or affection. He walks closer to you, his steps slow and deliberate. 

"Please what, princess?" He asks, his tone mocking. "Please let you go, so you can run away from me? So you can ruin everything we have?"

“Seonghwa, I won’t tell anyone just let me go!” you express, aggressively unlocking the lock and trying the door again. But it’s no use, the door won’t open.

Seonghwa chuckles darkly, his eyes glinting with a dangerous intensity. "Won't tell anyone? Oh darling, I know you better than that. You're not thinking clearly right now, are you?" He takes another step closer, looming over you. You let out a cry, pressing your body against the door. You want to get away but you can’t. You feel like your whole world is shattered. Before you could blink Seongwa cuts the distance, his tall figure looming over your body. You're small frame completely disappears as he towers over you. 

“Please Seonghwa, you're scaring me” you choke out, tears streaming down your face in fear. All he can do is look at you, his expression never wavering. He stares into your soul as he watches you come apart, you just want him to show some type of empathy. The room is eerily still as he watches over you like he is observing you. For a moment you wish you could understand what was going through his mind. You think about the memories you have together and you can’t help but cry even more. How did it come to this? And how did you get yourself in this situation? You should have just left the scrapbook alone, you wouldn't have known. Now you feel these moments fading away. But you give in knowing that there isn’t an escape. He knows everything about you and he can’t let you go and for some reason, you feel like you can’t let him go either. Your heart is racing out of your chest, your fear only amplifying. 

“I’m yours, Seonghwa,” you whisper, choking on your own tears. Seonghwa's face breaks into a wide, satisfied smile, his teeth bared. 

"Good girl," he praises, his voice dropping to a low purr. Before you can try to run again, he grabs your throat, pinning you against the door. You let out a loud wale and instantly close your eyes, not wanting to see him like this. Your happy memories of him were fading and you didn’t want to let them go. This whole ordeal was conflicting with your heart. You wanted to be infuriated that he stalked you for months but you felt like it was meant to be. You felt like you belonged here with him like he was the only one that loved you. 

"Oh, you're so loud," Seonghwa remarks, his thumb pressing against your windpipe causing you to whimper. "But don't worry, no one will hear you. I made sure of that." He leans in close, his breath hot against your face. "Now, be a good girl and open your eyes." There was a pause for a moment as you kept your eyes shut and this fuels his anger. His grip tightens around your neck and a low chuckle vibrates through his throat. 

“Open your fucking eyes!!!” You instantly jump and force your eyes open as he growls in your face. You whimper in fear as you look at him. Seonghwa grins darkly, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. "There you are," he purrs, his voice like velvet. His free hand reaches up to caress your face, his touch gentle, a stark contrast to the iron grip on your throat.

"Look at you, so pretty and scared," Seonghwa coos, his fingers tracing your features. "I love it when you're scared. It makes you so much more adorable." He leans in closer, his nose brushing against yours. "And I love you, princess. So much." You look at him as tears roll down your cheeks. 

Just give him what he wants. You repeat in your head. It will be over soon just give him what he wants. You take a deep breath before speaking. 

“I love you too.”

His face softens, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles warmly. "That's my good girl," he praises, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your neck. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. "I’m sorry," he expresses as he releases the grasp on your neck. “Say you love me again.”

“I love you, please,” you whisper, tears still flowing down, tears soaking your dress.

"Mmm, good girl," Seonghwa murmurs approvingly. He kisses you deeply, his tongue pushing past your lips to claim your mouth. “Undress yourself.” He demands. You reach for the zipper on the back of your dress as you sniffle. You look down in shame, knowing that this is all wrong but you want to make it work. Seonghwa watches you with an intense gaze as you slowly unzip your dress. He reaches out to help, impatiently tugging the dress down your shoulders. It pools at your feet, leaving you in your bra and panties. He stands up, looking you over approvingly. 

"So pretty, I’m going to remind you who you belong to."

He kisses you passionately for a moment before lifting you from your feet. You just accept the fact that you can’t run or hide and there is no point in doing so. You love him and there is nothing that can stop you from loving him. 

He takes you back to the bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. For the next few hours, all that echoed through the house was your pleading cries and moans. His groans were loud along with the headboard knocking against the wall. He was all that you had and you needed to accept the fact that he was going to forever watch over you no matter what the cost.

[leesolbeesol]

LIGHTWEIGHT

univeristy!au taesan x fem!reader (ft. the rest of bonedo!)

SUMMARY: Meeting Taesan at a basement party doesn't go as planned, what happens when you can't get rid of him? Do you even want to?

GENRE: fluff, slightly suggestive in one chapter, university!au (mentions of fraternities, classes, lectures, dorms, etc.) WARNINGS: Taesan gets punched, he doesn't deserve it but everything is okay | swearing | mentions of moaning but it doesn't get too crazy, reader makes fun of Taesan for it | fem!reader | heavy mentions of alcohol in the first chapter | EXCESSIVE flirting | ends with a confession!! NOTES: I have never been to a frat party. I have never participated in Greek life. I do not drink for personal reasons. I have never dated Han Dongmin (unfortunately). In other words, this is likely very unrealistic because my information comes from speculation, reddit threads, and other fanfics on tumblr dot com. This was so fun to write WC: 16.2k, divided into 6 "chapters" of varying length

RIDE OR DIE

You shift on your twin bed and feel the crinkly sheets shifting under your weight. You glance at the egg-shaped off-white clock on your wobbly, school-provided desk. The clock hits noon, your roommate will be home any minute and you’re hoping to power through the end of this report before then. Since you chose her as your roommate freshman year (because of maybe five instagram messages), Jen’s been your best friend, your literal ride or die, but she’s not the best body-doubling partner for cranking out assignments. When she’s with someone, she needs to provide commentary on whatever's going on, which is both a blessing and a curse. It’s a curse when it comes to being someone’s study partner.

The wooden door opens in an instant, and Jen’s frame appears in the doorway, flanked by about three bags. “Oh, dear roommate!” She greets you in song. She lets the bags fall from her arms with a thunk on the floor, and a couple papers scatter on the floor out of one of many of her partially-zipped backpacks. She marches towards you, waving her phone in your face.  “Look at this! One of our sisters invited us to a party Sigma Chi’s is throwing this evening!” She says excitedly before steadying her gaze on you. You back up as a carefully manicured finger stretches out towards your face. “We need to go.” She always refers to her sorority sisters as your (plural) sisters, which you think is sweet. It’s her way of including you. You figure that, at some point, she decided ‘my sisters this, my sisters that’ got a little bit exclusionary.

“No.” You answer her and turn back to your computer, entering the link for a hopefully-penultimate citation. This is the one thing you’re maybe not so “ride-or-die” about with Jen. You like parties, sure, but you aren't going to give up a good night’s sleep (without midterms, and all) so easily.

“What do you mean? It’s going to be so much fun!” She whines. “We just finished our midterms, we need to celebrate! What could you be even working on anyway?”

“There’s a presentation after midterms for some fucking reason, I don’t know. Plus, it's a totally bad idea to bring me. Nothing good happens at frat parties.” You tell her, pointedly. You do this dance with her semi-frequently: she invites you, you say no, she asks why, you say why, she asks again, you (sometimes) give in. You’ve got this waltz down to a science.

“Can you finish it later? Come on, please? You skipped out on the last three.” She looks at you with pleading eyes, ignoring your advice. You wonder if this was how she got everyone to do her bidding; pouting at them with her big brown eyes. You eye her suspiciously. It was true: you had denied her invitation to the last three events and probably the last three hosted by Sigma… what was it? Sigma Key? Whatever. You don’t particularly like most frat boys. In your experience, they tend to be on the annoying side… the very annoying side. The avoid-at-all-costs side.

You look at her as a smile grows on your face, “Will you do my laundry for a week when we get back from break?” At this point, you were considering going anyway, but you were going to try and milk it.

“And I’ll take out the trash.” She smiles back. Now… maybe hanging out in a dingy basement flanked by drunk college kids doesn’t sound that bad, right?

“Promise?”

She raises her hand as if to be sworn in to lawyerhood—or whatever they call it. “I, your loving, adoring roommate, solemnly swear to do your laundry and take out the trash for two weeks when we get back from break.” You suppress a laugh.

“What time is the party?” Satisfied, you surrender, albeit happily. She does manual labor for a couple weeks and you only have to go with her for a couple hours? Sounds like a dream.

“11pm.”

BUDDING ALCOHOLIC

The faint taste of tequila on your lips is your only reminder of your promise not to get the fuck out of dodge. If you hadn’t pregamed this party, you would have been regretting coming right about now, even if it means two weeks worth of chores being eliminated from your future. The music is noise-complaint worthy and not that good, even as far as frat music tends to go. Your best guess for timing is that it’s about midnight, and a couple of your peers are already drunk by the looks of it, making out by the window and stumbling on the grass out front. It already smells like vomit as you walk through the front door. To be fair, you’ve never been to a frat house in the daytime, so maybe the smell of vomit is just a permanent feature.

“You’re the best! Thanks for coming!” She swings an arm around you, at least a little tipsy. You shift in your Jen-approved outfit: a (very) tight black tank top, light-wash jeans, and a pair of Jen-borrowed, frat-designated, almost-destroyed sneakers. You’ve gathered from your brief excursions into the world of Greek life that this is the frat uniform.

“Hey, Jen-fer!” A guy, clearly a brother, comes up to the two of you with a cheeky smile on his face. It seems like every time someone greets Jen, she has a new nickname. Or maybe he’s just drunk and slurring his words. The guy looks like “people call me Chad but you can call me tonight” personified in his khaki shorts and impressively only slightly wrinkled t-shirt, sporting your school’s mascot with ‘VARSITY BASEBALL’ across it in loud, chunky lettering. “Who’s this?” He inquires as a girl swings her arm around his neck. The smile never leaves his face as he leans down to peck her. You watch as the girl and Jen have some sort of telepathic conversation by exchanging big smiles and little waves — she’s a sister, maybe? You really only know the girls that Jen’s closest to: Madelin (spelled like mandolin), Avery (who you thought was a boy for a couple months because you only know one other Avery, a boy), Elliann (whose name you remember how to spell only because you wrote Ellyanne once and you got a talking-to), and Gene (whose contact you have saved as the jeans emoji).

“Ugh, Jay! She’s my roommate, I told you about her.” You smile weakly as she points her attention towards you, “this is Jay. You remember Jay, right? From Econ?”

“Yeah… from Econ.” You mumble something unconvincing because you very much do not remember Jay from Econ. There are about a million Jay’s at this school. There’s Jason’s and James’s and Jongseong’s and Joshua’s and Julian’s who all go by Jay. Hell, there’s even a Jachariah (pronounced exactly like Zachariah but substitute the Z) who goes by Jay in your English Comp class. You think it would make sense to go by Jack (Like Zack) because there are less Jack’s, somehow, but whatever. When you return from zoning out, Jen starts talking at you. Some people are touchy drunks, some people are sad drunks, but Jen is a very, very talkative drunk. To be honest, she’s a talkative sober too.

She asks you to choose between the two drinks in her outstretched hands, naming both, though you can’t identify the taste or ingredients either, even with the name provided. Both looked like water.

Fuck it, what’s the difference? “Um, that one.” You say, pointing to the red cup in her right hand.

“Great! Are you okay on your own? I’m going to talk to Ellen!” She smiles big. Who’s Ellen? You have no idea. “Oh, hey! Meet my friend —hic! This is Tay!” She waves to someone behind you, and beckons them over with a finger. Great, now you have a Tae to keep track of.  Her goodbye is sonorous, “Bye bye!” 

“Bye, Jen-fer.” You tease her with the drawling nickname, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she waltzes off. You break into a slow smile as you see her leave. If you could remember what feeling sober is like, you would know by the drowsiness alone you’re a little more than tipsy. If Jen is a talkative drunk, you’re a sleepy drunk. You take a big swig of the red cup and it burns as it goes down, making you cough instinctively to get rid of the sensation. After taking a moment to compose, you shotgun the whole cup. Aside from the burning, you’re left with the distinctive aftertaste of artificial sweeteners sticking to your throat. 

You back up a little, and bump right into a wall. You curse, thinking you probably looked stupid doing that… that is, before you nearly jump out of your skin when the wall puts a hand on your shoulder. Sufficiently scared, you jump right back to where you started like a tennis ball. 

In your inebriation, you're pretty sure it might be the worst mistake of your life to look at the wall when you land eyes on the definitely-not-plaster you bumped into. 

You realize that she was saying Tae, not Tay. Tae, though you know him as Taesan, is the name of a—kinda emo—guy in your World Literature class who you decided was cute one time when zoning out in a lecture and have been a little shy around ever since. Why is he here? A frat does not seem like his scene. Your drunk self agrees with your sober self on the former issue, however. He is cute—really cute. His hair is straight and black and his bangs fall just above his eyebrows. You were definitely catastrophizing, because bumping into Taesan is maybe the best thing you could have hoped for at this Greek-whatever party.

“Oh… it’s Taesan!” It doesn’t even cross your mind to suppress the giant grin that spreads across your face as you say his name as you sway. “Can I call you that instead of Tae? Too many ay’s around, I think.” You mumble, feeling as cloudy as ever.

He shrugs, “Sure, I mean, I call you by your full name, usually.” 

Mostly ignoring him, you continue, focusing on the way the edges of his lips curl like he’s suppressing a smile. Squinting at him, you monologue. “You’re cute. But you’re bad at…” You squint harder, circling your finger in front of his face as if to cast a spell. He looks a little confused with his straight eyebrows raised, but he doesn’t look scared—yet. If you were in your right mind, you would have been amazed and totally terrified that you hadn’t scared him off with the wiggly finger. Maybe the slipped compliment at the beginning helped build some rapport? “You’re bad at… analysis.” You decide on pinpointing a weakness of his. Now, his analysis is actually pretty good. Sure, he's not going to win any awards with it, but who is in an undergraduate World Literature class taught by a less-than-enthusiastic professor nearing retirement? The alcoholic fog is just a little much, anyway. Maybe you’re more of a lightweight than you care to admit. 

“I think my analysis is pretty good, actually.” He frowns, but doesn’t seem offended in the slightest. He’s always quiet in lecture, you’re surprised he hasn’t made a quick excuse to get away yet.

You part your lips as you squint harder and point up at his face again, grasping for words that don’t come all that easy to you. “You… should kiss me.” As the words fall out of your mouth, he seems to look around a little bit in surprise. To your luck, he still doesn’t run screaming.

It’s his turn to point a finger at himself and his cool, bad-boy act slips, “kiss—kiss me?” He stutters, going wide-eyed and glancing around like this is a big reality TV-style prank and there are cameramen waiting in the shadows of this sticky, stinky basement, itching to catch him off guard. Perhaps you’re subconsciously practicing rejection therapy. 

“Yeah… you should analyze kissing me.” You attempt a smile as you try to keep your eyes open. The music is pounding in your ears as you stare into the gap between him and the wall to his left.

Still dumbfounded, he tries to find words, now staring at you staring off into space, “well, uh… you… that would be cool, but… I don’t… I don’t think you actually want to kiss me. You smell like tequila.” The alcohol is definitely taking its toll on you, evidenced by the way you lean forward and slump onto the boy in front of you, closing your eyes. His words don’t even go in one ear and out the other, they go over your head entirely. You could feel his body heat even through his thick navy tee. You hear his heartbeat and—you’re no medical student—it’s loud. With your eyes closed, you hear the DJ switch the song to something with less bass and you feel a warm hand come to your shoulder blade, patting it awkwardly. You hear an attempt at words coming from his vocal chords, but you hear nothing identifiable as human language. Just a few um’s and maybe an uh.

“Hey, Tae!” You hear Jen approach behind you, calling out to the boy who you’ve designated as your new mattress. You open your eyes for a second, and you’re kindly greeted with a view of his chest. Slowly analyzing your field of vision (which includes a fuzzy wall and his shirt), you blink once, twice, and then, the third time you close them, they stay closed. As fast as that, you’re gone: disappeared, asleep.

Before you can open your eyes again, you’re assaulted by a pounding headache. You haven’t felt a headache like this since the first time you got drunk with Jen. You’d assumed you’d learned your lesson. This time, it’s not a good thing that you exceeded your own expectations.

You open your eyes and see a rather unwelcome sight of Jen who has her hands on your shoulders, shaking you. It’s certainly not helping your headache. As you come to consciousness, you become aware of the damp, suffocating sweat that clings to your body and the aching that you feel in each and every of your muscles and joints. You can’t even lift a finger.

“Hey. Wake up! Don’t worry, you’re not dying. It’s just a hangover.” She consoles you, but she doesn’t stop pushing you, however. “You drank way too much.” She laughs, drawing out her words and turning her head to the side as her hair falls in front of her face.

You muster your words, “what?” Your voice is grainy and low. You feel like pure, unadulterated hell. The pounding in your head doesn’t stop, it just migrates from one side to the other. Back to left to front to right and back again like a cue ball bouncing around the table.

“You… are… hung… over.” She says like she's trying to teach a baby to say mama. You groan and roll over, freeing yourself from her manicured hands and burying your head in your sheets. As you roll over, you feel the familiar and deeply uncomfortable scratch of the seam of your jeans. You were still wearing the clothes you wore to the party, hooray! “And,” she continues, “you’re going to tell me why Han Taesan is at our door.” Her voice sounds half like she’s scolding you and half like she’s waiting for you to spill. Processing this information, you scrunch your eyes and groan again.

“He’s not.” You deny with a murmur despite the knocking that you hear on the door. The person at the door, reportedly Taesan, knocks one, two, three times.

“He is. He wants to know how you are… tell me what happened between you two!” She urges.

“You’re lying. He is not at the door.” Maybe if you say it enough he’ll go away. Manifesting, you know? You want to know nothing about why he’s here. The party last night was a blur. You remember drinking, seeing a couple familiar faces, bumping into Taesan and then it’s dark and you wake up in your bed with Jen shaking you.

“He is.” She says solemnly. She cocks her head and continues in a more sympathetic tone, “do you want me to tell him to go away?” She asks.

“Yes.” Regardless of whether you want to see him, specifically, you don’t want to see anyone at all. You’re still in your clothes from last night, your whole body hurts, you feel like total crap, and you doubt you showered last night. You do not want to see Han Taesan, and that’s final.

“Yes, ma’am.” She says and jumps off the tall bed. Through half-lidded eyes, you see her crack the door and exchange words with the visitor. You confirm it’s Taesan when his stupid face appears in the crack. Almost involuntarily you close your eyes. As the saying goes, out of sight, out of mind. Even with a foggy mind and a throbbing headache, you know nothing good can come out of talking to him, or even seeing him, when you’re so wildly hungover. You feel like a ghost haunting your body. You hear the door shut, and you open your eyes to see Jen shimmying over to you with her eyebrows raised and a disbelieving smile across her face. You close your eyes again, you do not want to see or hear what she has to offer unless it’s an ibuprofen.

“I can’t believe he came to check up on you! Isn’t that sweet? I have no idea what was happening with you two before I got there, but he was so cute about you. He looked so nervous! It’s not like him at all.” You can practically hear her dancing around in excitement. “Your love life never goes anywhere, this is so exciting!” You grumble in protest at her jab at you. She’s been begging to let her set you up with someone, but the only people she knows are frat bros and sorority girls, neither of which are your type, usually. Is Taesan part of a frat? Doesn’t seem like him.

“Jen… advil… please.” You reach out for her with a weak hand.

“You’re not dying.” She assures you, but dutifully returns to your bedside with two little red pills, a bottle of water, and a bag of goldfish. This is how Jen is, you’ve learned; poking fun at you while still looking out for you. “Come on, take them.” She says, holding out the pills. “You’re lucky it’s a Saturday. For a hangover, you need water, food, and sleep.” She recites. Maybe hangover care is a required class for members of the sorority known for the most functions.

“Thanks…” You mutter, bringing a weak hand to your still pounding forehead. “What happened?” You ask. It might help to know what you’re up against in terms of embarrassment.

“Before I got there? No idea. After I got there? Well, you were passed out,” she laughs, “I had no idea you could fall asleep that fast. He looked crazy confused, having you slung over him and all, you know? Anyway, he was dry sober, he just got there. I had the car, obviously, and so he offered to give you a ride back to the dorm in my car. Now, I went with you, of course. For one, I’m always going to come with you when you’re asleep and being taken care of by some man. Two, there’s no way I’m letting any man drive my car without serious supervision.” Now, this elicits a stifled laugh from you, after which you immediately wince in pain. Laughing isn’t good medicine for hangovers, apparently. “Anyway, he picked you up bridal-style, it was really cute, and brought you to our car, and then drove both of us home. I put you to bed, and he left after.” She states, "I wiped your drool, don’t worry.” She nudges you with an elbow.

“Ugh, Jen. Don’t joke with me right now.”

“No, seriously, you did drool. It’s one of, like, five reasons I’m never going to put you in a room with alcohol ever again.”

“I told you it was a bad idea to bring me.” You lament. You don’t like the idea of drooling in the vicinity of Taesan. And he carried you to the car? Seriously, not a high point for your ego. It’s not even about your germinal maybe-crush on him. “Give me some goldfish.”

“You always say that it’s a bad idea, but okay.” She hands you a handful and you shove it into your mouth. It doesn’t mix well with the morning-breath taste and somehow lingering tinge of alcohol. Your head is pounding and if the headache doesn’t kill you, the embarrassment might.

THE ILLUSION

Dr. Woo claps his hands together as the final undergrad enters the lecture hall. The long tables that act as desks proceed away from the central board in stairs. 

“Yeah. Big project coming up, right?” He says with a hint of fake enthusiasm. “It’s going to be a group project, if two people count as a group. Hooray.” A resounding groan emanates from the student body. Dr. Woo is visually unphased by this. “Despite the fact that choice is an illusion, you can pick your own partners. This is college. I don’t care.” He waves a hand dismissing any rebuttal, not that any was coming. Regardless of any other feelings about Dr. Woo, everyone knows he’s a great (read: easy) grader. “Anyway, go crazy. You all know the topic.”

Your heart drops as the room immediately erupts in chattering. Your circle was small at best, and you knew no one in World Lit except for… oh no. You feel a tap on your shoulder. Almost in slow motion, you turn around and see Taesan’s damned handsome face.

“Hey,” he says, very, very casually, “do you want to be my partner?” Oh, what the fuck.

“Um…” You furrow your eyebrows. It’s not that you don’t want to be partners with him, really. It’s just that you don’t want to recoil in embarrassment every time you work on a project worth 20% of your grade. 

He cocks his head to the side, “so?” You’re pretty sure his face could bring world peace. Have him try to convince a warlord to stop fighting by flashing a smile and they’d be a pacifist in under ten minutes.

You sigh, “yeah. Sure.” You try to smile, it doesn’t work that well. Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? Do it for the plot, right? Choosing to partner with him is definitely for the plot. You’re not entirely convinced that he’s pure in his intentions to partner with you; maybe this is part of a bigger frat boy scheme.

“My analysis is actually good, I swear.” He says as he pulls back the chair next to you to sit down. Is that a reference? To what? You are thoroughly confused, clearly remembering very little of that fateful night. He tucks his hands behind his head and leans back.

“What?” You laugh a little, if only out of awkwardness. 

He presses his lips together and they contort as if a laugh is threatening him. “Nevermind. It’s nothing, really.” He is utterly unconvincing when he lies. Maybe he couldn’t convince the warlord.

“Taesan, what?” Your arms cross as you lean back in your chair. Around you, there’s a buzz of new partnerships and dates being set to meet. You two, however, are alone in your own world. In your periphery, Dr. Woo is staring you down. You’re pretty sure he can sense when work isn’t getting done. You can’t tell if he’s just a salty old man or a teenager with a gossip itch trapped in an old professor’s body.

Taesan notices, “Dr. Woo is creeping me out. I’ll tell you in the hall.” He picks up one of your pens and hands it to you in a non subtle suggestion for you to pack up. 

You sling your backpack over one shoulder (despite how you’re told it’s bad for your back) and lead Taesan out of the lecture hall.

“So, are you partners with me just to make fun of me?” You probe him as he catches up to you. “I’m taking you to my dorm, by the way. We can get started on the project.” There’s a silent addition of ‘even if you’re being an asshole, I chose to be stuck with you for some reason’ when you give him a purposeful glance. Maybe Dr. Woo is right. Maybe choice is an illusion. He looks completely lost.

“No, no. It’s not like that, really. I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I just thought it was funny.” He turns around and shakes his head to punctuate his point. 

“Is it better if I don’t know what happened at the party?” One eyebrow raises and you stare him down with some weird level of confidence. Maybe knowing that he’s seen you drooling, drunk, and looking crazy makes you feel like you don’t have much else to lose.

“No, nothing bad happened. You were just drunk. It happens to the best of us.” He shrugs as you enter onto the green.

“Don’t drag this out, let me bite the bullet if I want to.”

He laughs a little, “alright. In summary, you backed into me, told me I was cute, told me my analysis sucks,” so that’s what that was about, “and told me I should kiss you and I told you that you were too drunk,” oh, what the fuck, “and then you fell asleep on me and Jennifer came over. I carried you to the car and drove both you and her home because she had a couple drinks and I had none. I checked up on you because I knew you were going to have one hell of a hangover.” Great, you’re stuck with this fucker you borderline harassed while blackout drunk.

“You were right. It was one hell of a hangover.” You grumble, looking at the floor to avoid any eye contact with him.

“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re not the first person to tell me I’m cute when they’re drunk.” He teases and you roll your eyes. In your heart, though, this is deeply, deeply embarrassing. The thought of what happened stings like a blade in your heart and in your mind. It’s not as bad as the hangover, but it’s pretty damn bad.

“Yeah, right. I was drunk, okay?” Your words are biting. “Why are you partners with me, then? I wasn’t that great the one time you met me.” Maybe you don’t want to know the answer, but the words are already out of your mouth. You scuff your heels as you walk, still avoiding contact with the one and only Han Taesan.

“You’re cute and you’re smart.” He shrugs and you break your rule of avoiding his eyes because now you’re staring at him in disbelief. “Plus, you’re great at keeping me humble.” He meets your eyes now and you’re immediately regretting thinking anything about the previous compliment meant anything at all.

“If you keep being a jerk, I’m going to keep you humble as hell.” You grumble.

“Sorry,” he frowns mildly, “the first part holds more weight.” And now, you’ve flipped. It does mean something… maybe. You face forward again to hide a smile that he totally catches anyways. You’ve made great time alongside Taesan, you’re almost to your dorm.

“Thanks?”

“My pleasure.” He postures. “Why were you there in the first place? No offense, but you don’t strike me as an alcoholic. An alcoholic can handle being drunk better than that.” It’s sort of a compliment, you guess.

“None taken, I don’t believe that being an alcoholic is in the cards for me.” You snort. “Jen dragged me there. I told her it was a bad idea, but she convinced me to go anyway by bribing me with doing my least favorite chores for a week or two.” You explain, crossing your arms and he laughs. “No offense, you don’t seem like you’re part of the frat nor do you seem like an alcoholic. So, what were you doing there?” You redirect. It’s true: he doesn’t seem like a brother nor a drinker.

“I lost a bet. Riwoo bet me that I couldn’t fit fifteen grapes in my mouth and I wanted to prove him wrong because, well, he’s Riwoo, but I lost the bet.” A laugh bubbles up from your chest imagining the situation. Not only did he try, but he tried and failed. “My punishment was either to go to a frat or to do mine and six of my roommates’ laundry for a semester. I picked the frat, obviously. I’ve lived with those guys for long enough to know that all of them stink like hell.” He adds, grimacing. “Plus, ‘doing laundry’ meant changing the sheets and picking up laundry, too.” He looks at you, pointedly.

“You’re lying, no way.” You laugh, partly with him and partly at him.

“You clearly haven’t met my roommates, this way?” His finger points to the building that you’re rooming in with Jen. You pray she’s not there or you’re going to be met with a litany of highly invasive questions.

You nod at his direction, “yeah, there are like seven thousand people here and I can recognize about thirty faces max. That’s like nothing-percent.”

“Good for me, then. I don’t think I’d be the first person you’d be calling cute if they were there with me.” The tone of his voice is light, but in his eyes you see that he fears it’s the truth. Huh, Taesan is just like the rest of us, who’da thunk?

“Where did your cool guy act go?” You tease, leading him up the stairs to your dorm, distinguished by the handmade felt pennants, spelling your’s and Jen’s names. “Drunk me wasn’t lying when she said you were cute, seriously.” You assure him. “Now, I just have to learn if your analysis is as bad as she said it was.” You push open the door with your back, mostly so you don’t have to face him after calling him cute to his face. Last week, you would have run away on the spot; Taesan has you acting like a bad ATM—all out of order.

ENTOURAGE

You hated to admit it, his analysis was great. By spending hours writing and rewriting scripts to memorize for your oral presentation, you watched Taesan connect dots you didn't even know were there and recall obscure details from lectures that happened to be integral to the coherence of your project. You can practically see the cogs turn in his head, the way he bites the inside of his lip when he’s really focused, the way his face lights up when he gets an idea, the way he slides his thin wire glasses up his straight nose with a knuckle when they slip down because he furrowed his eyebrows too much.

This is how you find yourself at four on a Wednesday afternoon, weeks after your first incidental meeting with him: admiring his work on your dorm floor.

“Damn, Taesan.” You still kept to calling him his full name instead of Tae, you felt like it meant something. “This is amazing, I would have never thought to connect those passages, we read that first book ages ago!” You shook your head, his analysis was that good. Maybe not award-winning, but definitely worth an A, even in your harshest grader’s class. He smirks as he laughs a little, taking off his glasses and stretching his hands up, grasping at nothing while trying to stretch his back. You two had been sitting for hours on the hard floor of your dorm room; you told him to sit on your chair, but he refused, demanding he sit next to you so that he can ‘see what you’re writing’ better.

“You brought up At the Bottom of the River in the first place.” He deflects your praise. You’ll gladly take the compliment even if you had no part in his discovery. As you shrug his deflection off, you feel his arm come down around your shoulder and you jump a little, not expecting the touch. Of course, his hand feels nice where it rests, but you’re still not quite used to the way Taesan evidently shows affection. The first time he pulled the classic ‘I’m-just-stretching-actually-I’m-putting-my-arm-around-you’ move, you didn’t expect it in the slightest. You had finished a part you were putting off and he moved to stretch, suddenly putting his arm around you and shaking you while cheering you on about your victory. The laugh you let out when that happened was something entirely unprecedented for you, you laughed until your stomach hurt and your eyes watered, and you couldn’t even pinpoint why.

“Yeah, sure.” You look at him, exaggerating your skepticism with your one raised eyebrow, his arm still around you.

“When’s Jen getting back? Do we have time to mess around or should I go before she starts pestering you?” He asks, half-joking as he tilts his head towards yours. Jen had taken a liking to him, if not too much of a liking to him… for you. Whenever you and Taesan were together and Jen spotted you, she made the least subtle comments possible telling you to get together, wiggling her eyebrows and full of exaggerated winks. It wasn’t surprising in the slightest. Hey, look at the position you two are in right now: foreheads so close they’re almost touching, alone in your dorm, with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. Still, you’ve gathered that’s just kind of how Taesan is with his friends. From what you’ve heard, he’s like that with everyone. It’s not unique to you.

“She said she’d be back at five, so…” you check the egg clock, “like, thirty minutes?” 

“Nice.” He purses his lips. “Are you nervous for the presentation? It’s tomorrow, you know?” Taesan has his sensitive moments, for sure. He sounds—he is—genuinely concerned about how you’re feeling about it, you can hear it in his voice. He’s not great at hiding things like that. Even when he’s making fun of you, it’s never malicious.

“I’m fine. I’m nervous, but it is a big presentation, after all. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” You tell him, flexing an arm to prove your point, though the action is inhibited by his arm still around you.

“Never doubted you for a second, Miss Independent. You can still be nervous though, it’s okay to be nervous.” 

“Are you nervous? You sound like you’re projecting.”

He exhales, “yeah, I’m nervous as hell.” He laughs a little after the admission, but it’s not a humorous one.

“Hey, text me if you get nervous before, right? Doesn’t help to keep it to yourself. And, no offense, but I think I’ll be better at commiserating with you than your roommates, however lovely they are.” 

He exhales. “Yeah, thanks.” He’s being surprisingly soft, and you can’t help but seize the opportunity to connect a little with the sensitive side of Taesan instead of the cool, nonchalant Taesan. From what you’ve gathered, his Nirvana-decorated headphones, monochrome black clothes, and his sullen resting face makes him less approachable to your peers.

“You’ll be fine. As you said to me when we were partnered, you’re cute and you’re smart. You’ve got it.” You tell him, leaning your head onto his shoulder. You wonder if he can feel your heart beating out of your chest. Can you feel someone’s heartbeat through their shoulder? Probably not, but the human body is full of surprises. One surprise is how hard you can see his pulse through his carotid artery, pulsing in his neck. Good God, this boy is going to get high blood pressure if his heart is always going a million miles an hour. “Tell me about writing music. I’m tired.” You tell him, closing your eyes. 

You’re brought back to what you were told about the first time you met him. This time, however, you falling asleep on him isn’t so much of a surprise. Your knowledge of composition contrasts Taesan’s, you know little more than the basics. Asking him to talk about it is an easy route to a one-sided conversation where you get to listen to him talk, which is always a good time. He gets so animated, it’s hilarious and adorable.

“Your wish is my command.” He laughs, and you feel the vibration against your head and he starts on a critically tangential spiel. 

Before you can get too comfortable leaning on Taesan listening to him talk about rhyme schemes, the door swings open. Jen walks in after opening the door with her signature slam. Why you haven’t gotten any complaints yet, you have no idea.

“Oh… my God.” You can practically hear her freeze in the doorway. Out of sight, out of mind, so you keep your eyes closed.

“Jen, no one’s dying.” You assure her, suddenly deeply uncomfortable, shifting on the floor.

“You’re right, no one’s dying. My heart is so happy, look at you!” She almost giggles.

“Is this a good time for me to go?” Taesan starts to ask the pivotal question that’s going to determine exactly how embarrassed you are going to be this afternoon.

“Yes—” “No—” You and Jen say in unison. You open your eyes just to glare at her, seeing her standing over you.

“No… I’m going to get to know my best friend’s… group project partner.” She winks very not-subtly at you. Taesan looks at you just as you look at him, and he shrugs. 

“The more the merrier, right?” He asks. The rhetorical question becomes immediately very literal as Jen continues.

“Oooh… I like the way he thinks, girl.” She says, pointing to you. “Taesan, invite your roommates over, too. We can have a party!” She’s almost clapping with how excited she is, rolling back on her heels.

Taesan lights up, “oh hell yeah! I’ll see who’s available.” Oh, Taesan. Always the extrovert.

You groan, but it’s futile to try and stop the scheming. How did this get so bad so fast? “No drinking.” You instruct them.

“Half of them can’t even drink legally yet, plus, do you seriously think I’m going to drink the night before our presentation? No way.” He assures you, and you groan again in hesitant acceptance.

“I’m never letting you drink again. Don’t worry about that.” She promises you quietly before switching back to hyped-up Jen mode. “Oh, this is so exciting! When can they get here?” She’s sitting cross-legged in front of you two now, rifling through contacts on her phone in its sparkly case.

“Well,” Taesan pauses, “If they’d answer my texts—” ding! Almost like he scripted it, he gets a notification. “And there we go. Turns out they’re just hanging out at our place, all of them are free. Do you want them here now?”

“Hell yeah, I do! We should watch a movie… what movie should we watch? Don’t tell me they like horror…” She pushes her eyebrows together in what sounds half like a threat and half like a plea.

“Yeah, not that I know of.”

“We should watch 10 Things I Hate About You.” You suggest.

And that’s how you got to be sitting in a circle on your room’s floor with Taesan, Jen, and every single one of Taesan’s five roommates. You’d only briefly met a couple of them in passing before. Right now, you’re even managing to not cut each others’ throats out while playing UNO! What an achievement!

“And the color is… wait for it!” Taesan’s roommate with the light brown, almost orange hair and rounder, blueish-green black glasses says, leaning around to intimidate the others with a giant smile on his face. Everyone erupts in laughter at him. You remember that this is Riwoo, the one who dared Taesan to stuff 15 grapes in his mouth in the first place. “Blue!” He announces.

Your last card was red. Damn it.

Jaehyun immediately slumps over, Sungho frowns, Leehan stares at the card deck and Woonhak stares, terrified, at Jen when she jumps up, screaming “Uno!” as she slams her blue five on the pile. Shouts resound from the boys around you. Taesan is laughing. 

As the room erupts around you, Taesan nudges you with his shoulder, showing you his card. His last color was red, too. “We’re both winners in my heart.” He tells you with a wink. What a sap. You push his face away with a hand, stifling a laugh as you feel a heat come to your cheeks. Your light push makes him dip away from you like the inflatable tube men outside gas stations.

“You’re so corny.” You tell him as you take in the scene unfolding around you. Inviting Taesan’s friends over was a great idea. Jen is yelling at Jaehyun, Jaehyun looks terrified. Woonhak and Sungho are yelling at Riwoo, Riwoo is laughing at them. Leehan is laughing at Riwoo laughing at Woonhak and Sungho.

Taesan catches you smiling at the camaraderie, “if people yelling at each other was all it took to make you smile, I’d have invited them over way earlier.”

“Taesan,” you laugh, “I don’t like schadenfreude. It’s nice to see Jen let loose sometimes. I don’t think she gets to argue with anyone very often.”

“If she wants anyone to argue with, I’m available.” He spreads his arms to punctuate his point. At this, you laugh even harder. As you look around again, you see everyone laughing and collapsing on the floor, except for Jen, who’s pretending to fume and sulk on her bed. You know her well enough to catch the smile that pulls at her lips.

“It’s like watching kids at the park.” You motion towards Taesan’s friends, who’ve clearly become very comfortable around you and Jen.

“This weird authenticity is kind of their whole M.O.” He smiles, very clearly adoring their antics. “Imagine having to do their laundry though. I’m glad I chose to go to the party instead.” He pretends to shiver which draws out a laugh from you.

“Yeah, if you had chosen to do their laundry you also wouldn’t have been able to see me drool on you when you carried me to the car.” You snort. You’ve made peace with your drunken night. After all, you’ve already lost your dignity and he’s still hanging around.

“It was so cute though!” He contests and you roll your eyes at him. You have sworn up and down that he doesn’t like you like… that. Even if he did like you, you’re pretty sure no one likes anyone else enough that their drool is cute. Therefore, Jen’s points are null. Simple as that.

“I’m just soooo adorable,” you roll your eyes, “you don’t have to rub it in, dude.” you smile incredulously at him, throwing one of your legs over the other, just short of taking out Riwoo’s leg.

“I’m not joking!” His tone is defensive in ultimate Taesan fashion.

“Yeah, sure.” You tell him as Jen reaches out to you and pulls you to your feet, leaving Taesan alone on the floor.

Jen whispers to you, “so, when’s the wedding?” You roll your eyes.

“Shut up, you always do this.” You groan. “Do you get some sadistic joy from seeing me uncomfortable?” You cross your arms, almost elbowing Woonhak. This room is not big enough for eight people to fit in comfortably.

“Can I be the maid of honor?” She ignores your complaints and you let out an exaggerated groan in response.

“Don’t make me regret not making him go home.”

“Fine, fine.” She looks to be backing down. That is until she smirks, meeting your eyes again. “I’m not the only one who sees something!” She says cheerily before bouncing off as far as one can, which is about a foot. She looks back at you and winks before (lightly) punching Woonhak in the back to get his attention. She’s immediately drawn into some debate of some sort or another. Earlier, Leehan had assigned you both fish and Jen had been assigned a ‘Cherry Barb’ and she immediately took issue with the name for some reason or other. It was very cathartic for Taesan to watch someone contest Leehan’s fish opinions. He was totally dumbstruck; it was hilarious. Then, of course, you got an informational speech from Leehan which quelled Jens’ argument. Now, she’s a Cherry Barb.

Maybe this is how it should be, friends arguing with friends and laughing about it after, cramped in a too small room. When you meet Taesan’s eyes, you see the sparkle in them tell you he thinks so too. Maybe your friends will become the opposite of children of divorce, gaining family instead of it being separated. Is that just children of marriage? Ugh, Jen’s infected you.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Taesan wiggles his eyebrows, clearly having heard the conversation. You roll your eyes.

BREAKING CODE

Jen is passed out on her bed on the opposite side of the room. The egg clock greets you with the time in blaring white: 11:32 pm. Head in your hands, you groan. No amount of free-on-youtube reality TV was going to calm your nerves. None of your favorite episodes are helping, even the one you have open on your computer. 

After the boys had left, you guaranteed yourself that everything would be fine. Your presentation would go great, no questions asked. Now, sitting in your room practically alone, you feel way less optimistic. 

Thoughts of Taesan cross your mind and you furrow your eyebrows, trying to shoo them. You wonder if he’s awake right now, if he’s anxious like you. You try to calm yourself by thinking that it could be worse, the presentation could be 30% of your grade. Unsurprisingly, that doesn’t help. Your phone, thrown aside earlier and laying on the bed, is practically inviting you to make a bad decision with its open, empty screen.

You stare out the window, contemplating whether or not to take the risk and text him. Your window opens up to a view of the door to enter your dorm building, and you can see the freshly fallen snow settling around it. The snow covers the creaky benches and even the overhang above the door. It’s while you're doing this contemplating that, to your fortune or maybe misfortune, the risk decides to take you with a ding from your phone.

On your home screen, you see a contact pop up and you freeze. You read the name again, it still says MOUNTAIN. Taesan put that as his contact name.

You look again, you weren’t hallucinating. It’s Taesan texting you. Is he nervous? Did he seriously take you up on your offer? You were simultaneously hoping that he would text you while hoping that he would never, ever even think to.

You steel yourself and open your phone, that’s when you get your answer.

[MOUNTAIN]: are you up [MOUNTAIN]: i’m nervous are you

You did tell him to text you if he was nervous. That offer, however, happened when you were feeling a little bolder. You are not feeling especially bold right now.

[you]: i might be [MOUNTAIN]: meet me lets go to the convenience store [MOUNTAIN]: chills me out before midterms usually and this is like the same thing

You didn’t need to even try to make a bad decision, the bad decision came to you, enticing you with the lure of a convenience store and a chance to escape your stuffy dorm.

Resting your phone on your chest, staring at the ceiling like a corpse with the way your hands are positioned, you weigh your options. Mentally, you make a list.

PROs:

You see Taesan

You get a snack probably

CONs:

You see Taesan

It’s been established that crazy shit goes down when you see Taesan past like nine pm—it’s like your friendship is a vampire but night-intolerant instead of day-intolerant

The last time you made a for the plot decision it didn’t turn out that bad. Yeah, partnering with Taesan could have sucked, but it didn’t. Going to the party was a kind of yolo-esque decision, too, and that was kind of a blessing in disguise. You rationalize your preference for meeting him with the fact that you know him better now. He’s not a rando and, as far as you know, he’s not evil.

You only live once, right?

You pick your phone back up and text him before you can rethink it.

[you]: meet where? [MOUNTAIN]: outside your dorm building in 10

You squint at the screen. His place is like a twenty minute walk away and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have a car, that would be weird for him. You can’t pinpoint why, but you don’t like the idea of him owning a car, despite the fact that he’s driven Jen’s with you in it. Ugh.

[you]: okay

You are totally chill about this.

Looking over at Jen in her bed, you decide you don’t want to be interrogated about this decision yet. She will not let you hear the end of it, and that’s not going to calm your nerves. It’s kind of against customary law safety recommendations to not tell your roommate where you’re going at night, but you decide that’s not applicable here.

Taking your computer off your lap and swinging your feet over the side of your bed as quietly as possible, you assess the situation. The nice thing about totally embarrassing yourself the first time you met him is that you now don’t particularly care about how you look. You’re wearing Jen’s mother’s giant Hartford Whalers hockey team brand shirt and some irritatingly red plaid pajama pants that totally crash with the cool blues and greens of your shirt.

Tiptoeing to the square, wooden-framed mirror hung in the entrance you check how your hair looks. You pull on your oversized puffer jacket as quietly as possible from the command hook-provided coat hanger adorning off the back of the exit door. The zipper is cold in your hands as you check to make sure Jen is oblivious to your impending excursion. She is still fast asleep, evident from the way her chest slowly rises and falls and the faint snores that you hear from her. 

The door handle is freezing to the touch. You expected as much from a dorm building with as little central heating as it tends to cater, but it’s still unpleasant. The door opens with a loud creak. You stand assured that no one has successfully snuck out of any single one of these dorms because the floorboards creak and the doors practically announce over the loudspeaker when anyone opens them.

Thankfully, Jen is none the wiser as you glance back at her, she’s in the same sleeping position you last saw her in: lying on her stomach with one leg thrown up closer to her chest and an arm flung over her head. It’s completely bizarre and totally adorable of her.

You make your way through the straightforward yet somehow labyrinthine halls of your dorm building. As you approach the glass entryway, you see Taesan illuminated by the orange streetlight, leaning against the red brick of the adjacent building standing on a recently-hardened layer of snowfall. He’s layered an unzipped black puffer jacket, similar to yours, over a gray hoodie and accessorised with a hat that makes his head look round like an egg. He’s rubbing his gloved hands together to keep them warm. He sees you before you even open the door, and his face lights up when he does.

After suppressing a smile, you scold him, “I can’t believe you called me to meet you at this hour!” 

“You told me I could!” He defends. You notice how you can see his breath against the cold air. It’s colder than you thought, you push your bare hands further into your pockets.

“How did you even get here so fast? Do you secretly live in the next building, or something? Are you my tropey boy next door?” You nudge him, wiggling your eyebrows as if this was some plot straight out of a fanfiction.

“Yeah, right.”

“Come on, you’re not secretly pining for me?” You tease him, sinking deeper into the collar of your coat on account of the biting wind that hits you once you leave the sanctuary of the protected building and, though you’re not willing to admit it to yourself, because the boy next to you makes your cheeks hot.

“Yeah, I’m secretly hanging off of your every word, just waiting for the moment I can confess my undying love for you.” He rolls his eyes. Noticing your hands shoved in your pockets, he changes the subject, “are you cold? I brought some extra gloves, do you want them?” His words are surprisingly considerate considering the incessant teasing you subject him to daily.

“Yeah.” You laugh, freezing as he takes the knit black gloves out of his pocket. Taking them from him and putting them on, you adjust them carefully. They’re far too big for you, but it’s the thought that counts, right? The “thought that counts” is definitely keeping your hands warmer. As you examine your new apparel with a smile, you feel a pressure over your head. Somehow, you hadn’t noticed him taking his hat off and now he is pushing it onto your head. You jump back, “hey! You could have lice!” Your smile disappears in favor of a pout. The hat does feel nice on your ears though.

Taesan bursts out laughing, “I do not have lice, I promise.” Still laughing, he elaborates, “plus, you’re cold. Your ears were so cold they were getting red.” You glare at him as he only laughs harder. Instinctively, you throw up your hands to cover your ears

“Point me to the convenience store or I’m going back inside whether you’re nervous or not.” You grumble.

“Okay, Miss Grump. Just follow me.” He says with a stupidly charming smile and grabs your wrist before picking up the pace. To him, picking up the pace means speed-walking, but for you, it means jogging.

“Ack!” You jump at the sudden movement, “Taesan! You can’t do that!” You try to free your wrist and, when you succeed, you cross your arms, standing solid in place as he turns around.

“If you don’t come with me, I’ll yell that you think Heath Ledger is super sexy during the presentation!” He yells, running backwards. Your jaw drops open. You want to trust Taesan enough to think he wouldn’t do that, but you also know Taesan well enough that he totally would do that. It was a bad idea to watch 10 Things I Hate About You with him, Jen, and his roommates after the Uno game. You do not need your personal preferences aired out to an auditorium of your peers and Dr. Woo. Plus, the only thing you like about Heath Ledger is that he essentially serenaded Kat Stratford!

Damn it. Stuck between would and would not, you narrow your eyes and start sprinting after him before he can turn a corner.

“You’re so on, Mr. Mountain!” He turns to look behind him, seeing you gaining fast on him as you run as fast as your legs will take you towards him. It’s his turn to be surprised, and he speeds up. After all, he wasn’t going that fast in the first place. As you close the gap between the two of you, you can hear his infectious laughter that makes you press down a swelling in your chest. You do not like Taesan, you assure yourself. It’s all in good fun. It’s only good fun. Focusing on the challenge ahead, you see Taesan just ahead of you, about to turn down a sidewalk.

He’s right behind a snowbank. If you’re the sun and the snowbank is the earth, he’s the moon in a solar eclipse.

It’s impulsive, your next action, truly. Presented with the right circumstances, however, you like to take your chances. With a shout that’s more primeval than you intended it to be, you grab onto his puffer jacket and tackle him onto the earth that is the snowbank.

It’s almost like slow-motion when you, with an evil smile, keep your eyes focused on Taesan as you see the world around you slowly become more horizontal as you fall, yourself falling on his back as he falls flat on his chest.

When his front compresses the snow enough to stop his descent towards the obscured grass, you hear him let out a moan. A moment of silence passes as both of you process what just happened. You’re propped up on your hands (gloved, thanks to Taesan) and he’s lying on his back, hands thrown above him because of his attempt at stabilization during the fall. His lips are slightly parted in shock, and his eyes are wide open, staring at you. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. He totally moaned when he fell. At least you can play teasing offense on him instead of having to defend why you tackled this man that is in no way, shape, or form your boyfriend. To be fair, men whimpering is hot. It’s just that you didn’t expect the man whimpering to be Taesan. It doesn’t really fit with his image.

You hold yourself up with one hand, clutching your stomach as you double over in laughter. “Oh my gosh, this is hilarious! I’m going to tell Riwoo that you moan when you get pushed around by women. He’ll never let you hear the end of it!” Taesan looks completely scandalized. His mouth is open and he looks totally terrified, you almost feel bad for him. 

Almost.

He covers his eyes with his gloves, “don’t you dare say anything.” Tears form in your eyes as you attempt to suppress a laugh to try and spare any more of his dignity. That doesn’t extend to teasing, though. It’s simply too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“What if, during the presentation, I yell out that you moan when someone pins you down?” You theorize him, sitting down on the dry ground next to him, throwing your legs over his stomach.

Still holding his hands over his eyes, he mutters a defensive response, “it’s not like that!” Flat on his back, he looks, somehow, handsome with snow visible in and contrasting against his darker hair, and his gloves covering his reddening face in embarrassment. If you’re lucky, maybe this is how he felt watching you fall onto him when you were drunk the first time you met. It’s more adoration than disgust.

“Aw, there’s no shame in it.” You coax. He is completely and totally embarrassed, you can tell by the way his ears are bright, cherry red.

“Don’t tell anyone, okay? What do you want?” He whines, refusing to look at you even when you try to pry his hands away from his face.

“Whatever we do and wherever we go together, it’s on you. Monetarily, I mean.” You push a finger into his chest as he finally frees his eyes from his own grip, daring to look at you face on.

“You serious?” He groans, he’s still red but looks to be over the initial shock. Either from the biting wind swirling around you or because of your teasing, his cheeks are coated in a dusting of red.

“Yeah, unless you want everyone to know about your sexual preferences.” Releasing him from your pushed finger, you cross your arms and shrug innocently.

“This is blackmail. This is extortion!” He complains, covering his eyes again.

“So… yes or no?” You grab his wrists and rip them from his face, revealing his angsty stare.

“...Yes, I’ll pay. Will you let it go now?” His words are harsher and he’s sulking, glaring at you. Maybe you pushed it too far.

“Hey, I meant it when I said it’s nothing to be ashamed about.” You let go of his wrists, opting to rub his shoulder instead, in an attempt to reassure him. “Listen, I lost my dignity by falling on you and drooling when we met, and you lost your dignity just now. Let’s just say we’re even.” You smile optimistically, hoping it will psych him into believing you because what you say is the truth, even if it’s a touchy subject, apparently.

Once he’s reminded of your not-so-cute meet-cute, he seems to relax a little. “You did drool like crazy. Do I really have to pay?” He’s smiling now, thank God. He rests his hands on his chest, looking way more comfortable.

“Yup. You do.” You laugh, it’s a softer laugh than your earlier fit, though. “Convenience store?” You prompt him, offering a hand to have him get up. As your hand interlocks with his, a smile tugs at the sides of your lips and you still can’t tell if the heat in your face is from the wind chill or Taesan. “And, take your hat back, idiot. Your ears are red.” The hat traps all the heat radiating from your flushed face and it makes you almost feel sweaty.

He laughs a little before speaking, “thanks for the hat. My ears are just so cold.” He jokes. “The store is just this way.” He points to the right he was going to take when you knocked him down. He was leading you the right way, at least. “Never try to blackmail me again, I swear.” He threatens, pouting, and then shoves you, however lightly. He doesn't look very scary.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.” You retort. He glares at you, keeping eye contact as you walk closer to the glowing, welcoming arms of the convenience store in the form of its bright lights, illuminating the street from the inside, casting an eerie glow onto the otherwise dark and snow-ridden street. In response to his look, you childishly blow a strawberry at him. This hasn’t been either of your finest hours. Your antics draw out a smile from him, at least. Practically skipping along, you try to change the subject to something less personal, maybe. “What did you expect when you called me out here? You said you were nervous, after all.”

“Yeah, I did say that. I got the pre-presentation nerves, you know? ‘Thought we could talk about it.” He rubs his neck. This is definitely a less personal topic, but that’s not to say it’s impersonal.

“So, talk.” You command, avoiding eye contact mostly so you don’t laugh, replaying him falling over.

“What is there to say? I had some nerves.” He laughs, opening the silvery door to the convenience store, stepping aside to let you through.

“What a gentleman,” you muse, “how’d you learn that? Rom-coms?”

“I’m allowed to be nice, too, you know. You watch more romantic comedies than me.” He rolls his eyes.

“I do it ironically.” You drawl. “I was nervous too, to be honest,” you were not going to tell him that you were watching rom-coms trying to relax, that would be a little too much ammo for him, “Jen was fast asleep and I was just kind of… lying there.” You pick up a miscellaneous chip bag, lazily inspecting it.

“Oh, I totally get it. The only other person awake was Leehan, and he was going to trap me in fish conversation if I even so much as approached him.” You snort at this. Even from your brief interactions with Leehan this afternoon, his passion is palpable. You can just see it in his face that he’s a little bit of an uber-nerd about those particular animals. Nerd is being used affectionately, of course. His interest is admirable. “Do you want those chips?” He asks, pointing to the bag in your hand.

“Not really, I like those other ones better.” You shrug, pointing to the alternative, an equally fluorescent bag of slightly better-tasting chips. “We can tame the worries together,” you smile at him, reaching behind you to grab your preferred flavor, “the question is how.”

“Going to the convenience store is a pretty good start.” He pushes his bottom lip into the top one. As you watch this action, he suppresses a smile, suddenly. “I have an idea.” Of course he does. He says this with a growing smile on his face as he locks eyes with you. “We should have a snowball fight.” Your own smile grows as he waits for your response.

“We should.” You nod. This time, you have an idea, a bad one. “Only if you moan again.” You charge him with the scandalous comment, and he looks affronted again, and immediately reaches out a free hand to shove you.

“Don’t say that so loud!” He hissed, looking around the almost empty store to see if anyone heard him. “That stays between you and me.” You roll your eyes but you can’t hide your amusement.

“Yeah, okay.” You walk off towards the cashier across the store to buy your snacks, sticking out your tongue at him. On the way, you inspect and in turn pick up a chocolate bar and a mediocre-looking apple to buy with your chips; it’s all about balance.

Taesan comes up behind you as you place your haul on the mini conveyor belt and gives a small bow to the cashier. He sets down two bags of chips and an enoki mushroom snack that has Japanese writing on it, for which you give him a disgusted look. Perusing his other selections, you smile when you see the second chip bag, for which you change your disgusted look for one of gratitude.

“Aw, did you get those for me?” You ask, pointing to the less perfect, but still pretty good flavor.

“No, I got them for… um…” He pauses, seemingly unable to think of someone else he would get them for. It’s kind of cute, if not a little embarrassing. “I got them for you. I can be kind, remember?” Sassy man apocalypse.

“Duly noted.” You purse your lips. You look at him expectantly, going from him to his card on the back of his phone, again.

“What?” He asks, innocently. Sungho wasn’t joking when he said that he looks like a cat. As he realizes you’re deadass, he narrows his eyes and turns to you, “are you serious about the whole paying thing?” He cocks his head.

“I was pretty clear. That is, unless you—” You’re cut off by Taesan clamping a hand over your mouth, for which he gets a repulsed and highly suspicious glare from the middle-aged cashier, he meets this with another bow, unclasping your face from his grip. When you’re let go, you raise your eyebrows at him as if to say ‘really?’ His hand smells like lavender soap, it’s kind of pleasant, actually. From the state of his and his roommates’ everything-but-sleeping room, you wouldn’t have guessed they were in possession of floral hand soap. When you’re done thinking about how he smells, you’re feeling a little embarrassed and also physically being led out of the store, hopefully after Taesan paid.

“Was that really necessary?” You ask, hands free because Taesan’s holding the store-provided bag that houses all of your treats.

“I don’t need anyone hearing about… that. Especially a middle-aged anyone.” He clarifies and fair enough. You take the opportunity, however, to scoop up a clump of snow (distinctly not yellow, you checked) and pitch it at him. Still carefully holding your bag, he looks at you with a sense of betrayal. “Oh, I’m going to get you.” He threatens before hurling a snowball that splashes against your only water-resistant coat.

Snowball after snowball is thrown, before your brief yet intense brawl is cut short by ice cold rain slicing through the air around you. Without Taesan’s hat, the sleet pummels your head and it hurts. Your puffer has no hood. Before you can let out an ‘ow,’ even, you find your oasis above you, a puffer. Taesan’s puffer. He managed to, in the short time it started sleeting and you noticed it, drop all of his stockpiled snowballs, pick up the convenience store’s bag, take off his puffer jacket, and cover your head with it, protecting you from the harsh, half-frozen rain. When you look at his face to your right, he looks totally angelic. The streetlight behind him makes him look like he has a halo from the light filtering through the edges of his hair. He’s smiling, despite all the teasing and irritation you put him through in the short time you’ve been out of your dorm.

“Yikes, that came fast.” He comments, looking around and noticing how the sleet pelts down around the two of you. “I’ll take you home, I think it’s our cue to wrap this up.” He suggests. His sweetness contrasts against the wistful feeling that unexpectedly forms when he mentions parting. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation or maybe it’s the chill getting to you, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine, it’s the most you’ve laughed since Jen told you the crazy goings-on between her highschool ex-girlfriend and one of her friends. Apparently, her ex-girlfriend is absolutely smitten for her friend and said friend completely ignores her at every turn. You laughed until your cheeks hurt that day. Your cheeks don’t hurt from laughing, necessarily, but it’s the same sort of freeing feeling. You don’t know what to make of that, but you’re damn sure you like the way he’s smiling at you.

“Whatever you say. Thanks for the roof.” You beamed, pointing up at the make-shift shelter he’s made for you.

“My pleasure, Miss Grump.” He says this with a posh accent that makes you laugh. You have no idea since when he’s started calling you Miss Grump, but there are worse names, probably.

“Don’t make me kick you.” You threaten, trying (and failing) to suppress the grin that tugs at your lips.

“Sorry, Madame Grump.” He corrects, still holding the cover over your head.

 “I’m not even being grumpy.” You warn him, not even trying to hide the smile that spreads across your face. “Come on, get moving.” You cue him to start the walk back to your dorm.

“Your wish is my command, Miss—” 

“Don’t you dare.” You threaten and bump your shoulder into his. The walk back to your dorm is short, it took you far longer to get to the convenience store because of… well… tangential events. Checking your phone, you finally learn the time. It’s fucking two in the morning. Great! You’ll get essentially no sleep, but that’s nothing a little caffeine can’t fix.

“I dare more than you think I do.” He purses his lips.

“Okay, I dare you to admit you moaned when you fell.” You challenge him with a smirk.

He groans, “I pick truth.”

“This isn’t truth or dare, you don’t get to pick. Plus, truth would be ‘did you moan when you fell.’” You can see your dorm from where you stand in front of the red brick building, it’s still brightly lit. Hopefully that means that Jen is still asleep and hasn’t woken up to turn the overhead off.

“You can’t subpoena me so I’m not playing this game.” He shrugs, stopping underneath the overhang above the glass door that marks the entrance to your building and the separation from Taesan. As he steps aside, taking his puffer with him and putting it back on, you’re suddenly and unfortunately aware of his body heat now that it’s gone.

“I’m less nervous.” He says with a smile that seems almost confidential, like a secret only you know. He’s undeniably easy on the eyes with his stupid hat and soaked gloves and hoodie. 

“Me too.” The words come out of your mouth softly. Somehow, they’re vulnerable words to say. “Goodnight, Taesan.” After your parting words, neither of you make a move to leave. His full name feels more meaningful than his nickname, somehow. You stand there, lit up by the LEDs of the hallways, staring at each other, and you’re not entirely sure why. The tension might be thick, it might not be, you can’t tell by the way you’re focused on his face. Well, it’s not exactly his face. It’s the way his hair frames his face, yes, and the way that his eyes scrunch when he smiles, even slightly, it’s also the way his egg hat looks and the way his hoodie is so damp because he was trying to keep you warm and dry. 

Then it’s all over. When the tension breaks, it’s not like it’s cut through. It’s more like it dissipates. It dissipates thanks to the man who barrels down the street adjacent to your bubble, blasting a Spanish ballad and singing his heart out. Soy capitán, soy capitán, soy capitán! blasts through the complex. You break eye contact with Taesan just to laugh at the oddity passing you. You watch him coast down the street on his green bike, singing, without a helmet, hands-free. Your mother would not approve. Taesan’s not laughing, but he’s beaming and staring at you as you crouch down because of your laughter. You try and convince yourself it’s not even that funny, but something about the era of the night just makes you heave with how hard you’re laughing.

“I mean,” recovering, you let out a sigh, finally releasing a breath that you don’t remember holding, “it is a college campus.”

“You can say that again.” His hands are on his hips, and he’s managed to pry his eyes away from you. The sleet’s stopped somewhat, but the ground is still icy from the snow and sleet and rain that have frozen and refrozen over the past few days. The same wistful silence settles between you two after the interruption.

“Maybe it’s a sign.” You laugh in disbelief. Now you’re sure you’ve laughed more than when Jen told you about her friend’s drama. Way more.

“A sign for what?” He questions, jocose and almost suspicious of your deduction.

“A sign you’ve violated like a million rules of common decency!” Another voice, one other than the singing man’s melody and Taesan’s and your chatter, is heard echoing throughout. “Han Taesan, I’m going to beat your ass!” The voice threatens angrily. At first, you don’t know where it’s coming from. At second, you don’t want to believe where it’s coming from. You slowly look up to your open dorm window and see Jen’s disheveled figure poking out with the single most serious scowl you’ve ever seen her wear. The only time that gets close to this nouveau expression is the time she decked a guy for… being a total freak for one of her friends, let’s say. Your body is confused on whether to panic, run, or just freeze. Waiting to act is still an action, and it’s the prognosis your body suggests. You freeze, looking from Taesan to the window, where Jen is notably absent.

You look at Taesan. 

You look at the window. 

You look at Taesan. 

You look at the hallway.

Taesan looks terrified, you look utterly and visibly confused, and for Jen… well, it looks like there's smoke coming out of her ears as she storms down the hallway towards the doors that open to reveal your two-person symposium. Jen slams open the door and, if it wasn’t specifically made not to slam, the impact of the slam would have reverberated until even Dr. Woo heard it across the campus in his (probably sound-proofed) office where he probably still is because, you know, he’s Dr. Woo.

“You motherfucker, what did you do to get her to go out without telling me! What are you hiding? Are you a criminal? Are you a smoker? Oh no, you’re just a piece of shit trying to get in her pants!” Jen steps in front of you, blocking everything but Taesan’s head from your view. From what you can see, Taesan hasn’t been sucker punched yet. His eyes are wide and he’s holding his hands up like he’s waiting for her to swing, and maybe he is. You know he doesn’t know her well enough to know that she wants to beat the shit out of him, but she did say explicitly that she was going to beat the shit out of him so he had some reason to suspect that that’s what was incoming.

“W-what? I don’t— I didn’t do any of that stuff!” He’s shaking his hands wildly and Jen still looks like she’s about to swing by the way she’s pushing a finger into his chest. Still too shocked to do, well, anything except watch.

You see her rear up in a way that’s all too familiar to you, and when you remember you can move, “Jen, wait! It’s–” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you see her closed fist collide with his cheekbone and the impact make him reel back, clutching the affected area with a mittened hand. He almost knocks his head into the pole supporting the overhang, and you can see he’s visibly out of it. Is this a good time to mention that Jen is freakishly good at karate? What Jen is, however, not amazing at is analyzing the situation. As she battles with the follow-through of the swing, she loses her footing on the icy ground, falling flat on her ass. Now, both parties accompanying you are on the icy ground and you’re the only one still standing.

You act in a delay. “Jen! He didn’t do anything, I swear!” You reach for her shoulders that are no longer there, trying to stop an action that’s already happened. You watch as Taesan crumples further into a fetal position and you stand there in shock.

“See!” She spits, snapping her head back to look up at you. “He’s not even trying to help me up!” Her eyebrows are furrowed and angry.

“Jen,” you almost can’t help but laugh, “you decked him, he doesn’t even know what planet he’s on.” You look from your best friend to your… Taesan, and wonder how you attend to both of their bullshit situations at once. “Okay, first of all, Jen, please don’t punch his ass again—”

“Yeah, I’ll punch him in the gut.” She snarls, cutting you off.

“No! There will be no punching.” You declare, trying to sound confident but you’re so bewildered it comes out more as a question. You turn your attention to Taesan, whose nose is bleeding ever so slightly. He’s holding his hat-clad head in his hands and is grimacing in pain. You mirror him, a grimace appearing on your own face as you look upon his pitiful condition. This is going to be so fun to explain. “I came out here because I told him he could call me if he was nervous for the presentation tomorrow and I’d talk to him about it and so we went to the convenience store and… I’m fine! He’s not just trying to get in my pants, he would’ve done that already if he wanted to.” You ramble, using logic that probably wouldn’t withstand in court but works well enough when you talk a million miles an hour to a less than law-savvy subject, that subject being Jen. The subject, Jen, looks scandalized by this information.

“Where did my innocent baby go?” She pouts, getting up to put her arms around you. “Where did my sweet, lightweight, baby with no love life go? She’s sneaking out to see boys?” 

“Jen, I’m a grown woman.” You tell her, incredibly blasé and stiff as she embraces you in a hug. From over her shoulder, you catch Taesan’s eye. When your eyes meet, he laughs and then winces. It probably wasn’t a good idea to welcome an uncontrollable movement when you have some sort of abrasion on your cheek and blood coming out of your nose. Jen pulls back to look at you and shakes her head, you can almost hear her saying they grow up so fast. Maybe this is the same kind of telepathy that goes down between her and her sisters. Maybe you get it. Jen, coming back to earth from her sappy, self-appointed caretaker meltdown, narrows her eyes and looks from you to Taesan, and then from you to Taesan, again.

She opens her mouth and lets out a puff of air as if to start speaking, but she only does so a few seconds later. “So… there was no reason for me to deck him?” She asks, raising an eyebrow in genuine confusion. You nod, solemnly. Her jaw drops and her eyebrows push together. She puts her tongue in her cheek, mind reeling. This is when she realizes she gave this poor man a bloody nose and probably a black eye for no damn reason. Suddenly, she fixes her gaze on you, “you’re the one I should be chewing out! Do you know how many staples of girl code you’ve violated?! You could have died!” She exclaims, clearly ready to give you a talking-to, way worse than when you spelled ‘Elliann’ as ‘Ellyanne.’ She’s like OSHA but for general female wellbeing.

You reach out to grab her hands that are moving dramatically to illustrate her point, “okay, you can chew me out after Taesan isn’t bleeding out.” She seems to relax like a combative patient injected with midazolam.

“I’m not bleeding out.” He huffs, but is still holding his nose bridge, so he’s still bleeding, at least, and that’s not exactly ideal. 

“You look like shit, though.” You tell him

“Thanks,” he groans, “can I get some tylenol, or something?” Yeah, he totally looks like a hurt puppy. It’s kind of cute, you guess.

“Yeah, we’ll get you patched up.” You assure him, breaking away from Jen to attend to Taesan.

“No ‘we.’ Only you. Don’t let her punch me again.” 

“We’re over the combat phase, it’s fine. Get up, do your legs still work?” You try to say your biting words as comfortingly as possible. It’s past two in the morning, you’re too over-tired to try to pick your words so they’ll feel better for the receiver. What’ll make Taesan feel better, physically, at least, is tylenol and making sure his nose isn’t broken.

“My legs don’t, my ass hurts like hell.” Jen complains, but helps in picking Taesan up anyway.

“It’s very hard to break a tailbone, a nose, on the other hand…” You raise your eyebrows but say no more. Taesan gets up just fine, but still clutches his nose. “Campus clinic’s probably closed, we have a first-aid kit, though.”

Jen issues a half-hearted-sounding yet fully meant apology in the form of a mutter of “sorry for punching you, man.” 

“You’re cool, man. Cool that you were looking out for her.” He gives her a small thumbs up. It’s a weird moment of friendship between these two. For having met barely a week ago and having spent five hours together tops, these two have a more tumultuous relationship than most twin siblings at the age of nine, which is saying something considering most have chased each other with a knife by the age of five and a half. Jen has gone from asking to be the maid of honor to decking the presumed groom and now having a hopefully more stable relationship with said groom. So much plot it’s not even ‘for the plot’ anymore, you’re just riding the wave of unexpected inciting events.

“The more the merrier.” You mutter as you sling Taesan’s arm over your shoulder. Why he abets this when the damage is to his face, who knows. The more the merrier indeed in your cramped dorm, trying to ignore how the cold compress on his bruise keeps melting even though it’s so cold and the fact that you have an injured and sleep-deprived boy on your hands.

GOT GOOD

You bite the inside of your cheek, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to express your dismay. You kind of bombed your presentation. 

Scrap that, you really bombed your presentation. 

As you step out of the lecture hall following the sea of your peers, you step aside to press your back into a free wall. It’s one of the moments where you need to just detach. Crossing your arms for stability, you melt into the wall. The overhead light that you can see even through your closed eyelids is obscured every so often by a moving body. This drowsiness is familiar.

Amid the frequent passings of students, the light is masked for longer than would be caused by someone in passing. You know who it is.

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad.” You open your eyes to a squint and see Taesan leaning against the wall next to you. Despite how you try to ignore it, you’re immediately drawn to the squashed berry purple color that blossoms on the inflamed skin under his left eye, giving way to a lighter almost green tint near his nose. Jen got him good. Your blinks are slow, the scant hours of sleep are getting to you. You slept through your alarm, foreboding you from even getting coffee before the presentation. Despite his injury, he’s smiling.

“I lost where I was like every other sentence.” You attempt to mirror his smile, but it doesn’t really work, leaving you with a smile that reaches your eyes but not your lips, somehow.

“It’s Dr. Woo, you’ll be fine. He doesn’t care nearly as much as you do. We got all of our information out. It doesn’t matter how graceful it was.” He lays out his reasons and you cock your head, weighing the possibility that he’s right.

“Are you like a vampire, or something? You don’t need sleep?”

“I’m used to it.” He shrugs. Maybe living with five as many people as you do makes you sleep way less; especially since it seems like Taesan is their chaperone despite the fact that Sungho and Riwoo are older than him, you’ve learned.

“You shouldn’t be. Sleep is good.” You close your eyes again, and a silence settles over you. You’ve created your own little bubble in the hallway, and it might not even include Taesan. Right now, it’s just you and your desperate need for rest. You are not the kind of person to pull an all-nighter.

“I told you you were going to crash.” He reminds you and you hum in response. “Look,” he gets your attention by putting a hand on your shoulder, “the boys are out, come back to my place and you can take a nap. I know that your room still smells like disinfectant.” A smile creeps across your face at this. It’s true: your room smells like the pungent iodine that you used to clean the minor abrasions on his cheekbone. You still have no idea why Jen has that much power in her.

“Lead the way.” 

“It’s way closer to this building than it is to your building, it’s barely any walk at all.” He assures you. Regardless, you have to speed walk to keep up with the pace.

“Do you have hot chocolate, or anything?” At your drawled request, he tsks. Pressing his lips together, you take that as a no.

“I’ll see what I can do. Woonhak owes me like nine favors.” He laughs a little at this, and you smile too. Unremarkably, it hasn’t become spring overnight, and so the wind is still nipping at your face. You were wise enough to wear your Taesan-provided gloves, though. Looking at Taesan’s face and the way the wind makes his face a little pink, you’re pretty sure you could find the whole color palette on his face. Except blue, maybe. You’ve got the other colors covered. Red for his cheeks, orange, yellow, green, and purple for his bruise. Huh, that bruise contributes a lot. “It’s just this way.” He says, guiding you with a pointed hand towards a complex highly similar to your own. Same red brick buildings and same overhang. The difference is that, you know from picking your roommate, this building is the apartment sector. Frankly, it’s incredible that Taesan and his roommates are all friends. You know other people who got apartments, or even quads, who aren’t so happy.

As you step into the entrance way, you feel the warm air hit your face. This building is much warmer than yours, maybe that’s a good thing. Walking up the stairs, Taesan is steady behind you. You wonder if he’s thinking about catching you like he had to the time you were drunk off your ass.

As soon as you enter the apartment dorm, your focus tunnel visions on the soft couch in the middle of the room. It looks like heaven as you step towards it. You were unfairly ripped from the comfort of your bed for that fuckass presentation and now you can return to your natural state, sleeping. You thank whatever power is out there because this is so incredibly opportune.

As soon as you shed your backpack and winter coat and collapse on the couch, you’re out like a light. No words from Taesan can wake you now, even if it is him professing his undying love for you. No, it’s up to your internal clock to make you up, lest you sleep forever.

Your internal clock does wake you up. You’re groggy, but it’s still light out, so you couldn’t have slept for so long. As you assess your situation, you notice two differences.

First, you’re warm.

A navy blue throw blanket has been carefully draped over you, and you’re pretty sure you didn’t do that yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek—happily, this time. It’s proof he does care, and maybe you’re letting the gesture get to your head. You do… not like Han Taesan, right?

Second, you’re alone in Taesan’s living room.

There are no signs of life, not from his roommates nor from the mountain himself. That’s more puzzling. You would have assumed he would have stayed for one reason or another, maybe he went out to get hot chocolate? He told you that he would have Woonhak do it.

Looking around the room, you take in the sights. There’s a modest TV with various video game consoles, there is a section of the room clearly designated for guitars, and it’s remarkably clean. Not too bad for five early 20-somethings and one 18 year old. It’s kind of impressive, actually. There isn’t any leftover food out and even the dishes in the sink have been rinsed, if not thoroughly washed. You pat down the area around you in search of your phone, mainly to check the time, but also to figure out where the hell Taesan went. Something about his absence hurts your heart in an uncomfortable way. You would have liked to see him when you woke up. Still… you do not like Han Taesan… do you? No, no. You don’t like him, that’s silly. He’s just your partner for a group project.

As you locate your phone, you hear the door open behind you and you swing your head around to see Taesan standing in the doorway with a hand behind his back and a bag in the hand that’s visible to you. Another bag, nice.

“Good morning.” He smiles at your state. The way he looks at you suggests your hair is out of order. You fail obviously as you try to subtly sort it out.

“I had a great nap. You have a good napping couch.” You bring a hand up to rub your right eye even though your mom says it causes astigmatism. It would suck to have contacts in right about now.

“Well,” he says, setting down the bag on the counter, “I have your hot chocolate.” You’re pretty sure your face lights up at this, it’s the perfect thing for this kind of dingy day. “And,” he continues, “I got it from a café near here; store-bought isn’t as good.” He takes a cardboard carrier out of the bag and presents his finds to you, two lidded cups.

“You sure know the way to my heart.” You mean that on a deeper level that you hope he doesn’t catch. “What’s behind your back?” You ask, pointing to the obvious hand still tucked behind him. 

He looks sheepish and brings the hand to his front, “I got these for you.” His cool act is far gone, he seems almost timid. In his left hand he grasps a bouquet of an assortment of colorful flowers. There are assorted yellows, blues, pinks, purples, and reds. It’s like a sunset wrapped in brown paper and tied in a pretty twine bow.

“Taesan!” You exclaim excitedly, jumping up from the couch to go collect your gift. “Why?” You poke. He’s quiet for a second, the question seems to echo throughout the room. A chorus of ‘why.’ You meet his eyes for just a second, but the shared glance makes your heart beat faster. He seems to bite his tongue, there’s a shining reflection of the kitchen light in his dark brown eyes. You don’t see them crinkle up, indicative of a straight face.

He swallows like his throat is thick, “I got them for you because I like you… I like you romantically.”

You’re not sure if your heart swells or drops.

From this one statement, you learn two things. You learn that Han Taesan likes you, and you learn that you like Han Taesan. You really like Han Taesan. You like the way he’s cold but kind and the way his bangs fall and his endless care for his roommates and his hardworking nature. 

You like Han Taesan.

You take the bouquet in your hands, analyzing the flowers. You notice they’re mostly tulips, but flanked by carnations, baby’s breath, and bluebells. A smile grows on your face as you look back up at him. He looks absolutely terrified. It’s not worth it to tease him here. He’s vulnerable, you should be too.

You begin to open your mouth, but before you can, he continues in an attempt at defense, “listen to me, please. I thought you were cute and smart even before the party and all of those incidents, but now that I know you I can’t not tell you. You’re witty and stubborn and playful and it’s so easy to talk to you. You were cute when you were drooling, I didn’t know that was possible. You make fun of me but I like it because you’re so kind. I… I like you.” He confesses, he’s talking fast and you think your heart might burst with excitement. Excitement isn’t the right word—euphoria? Joy? Happiness? Exhilaration? No word is quite right for how you feel about Taesan. “The tulips symbolize love.” He says under his breath and the flowers take on a whole new meaning. You feel like a tulip. Tulips symbolize love.

The smile that bursts across your face makes his eyebrows release all their tension immediately, “Taesan, I like you too. I really like you,” you tell him, “tulips symbolize love.” You look down at the bouquet and see the array of tulips that smile back at you.

“Can I kiss you? I’m not drunk, I swear.” He promises. The allusion to your first meeting makes you laugh. You met with an ask for a kiss, and now he confesses with an ask for a kiss.

“Yes.” You whisper, and he throws his arms around you, pressing his forehead to yours. You sway like that for a moment, you feel the cold of his jacket against your arms and the pressure of his hand on the small of your back. You look at him and in his eyes you see him. No walls, just you two. Just you and Taesan.

You wrap your arms around his neck, one hand still holding the bouquet and pull his lips to yours. Warmth blossoms in your chest—his kiss is soft and tender and he tastes like mint. Mint might be your new favorite flavor. His lips fit perfectly with yours. You feel the soft press of his fingers into your back, pulling you closer to him. Your lips part slightly and you’re out of breath before he even starts to pull away. His kiss is just like him, just when you think you know him all, he shows you a new surprise, something new. After stalling for just a second, he pulls you back to him and deepens the kiss. You could kiss this minty boy forever.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours again, fluttering his eyes open and shut.

“I wrote a song about this. A serenade.” He says breathlessly.

Even in the dead of winter, you think your heart melts all over again.

NOTES: Shoutout Hartford Whalers even tho they sports disbanded! SINGING MAN CAMEO! The singing man is a genuine character in my life. Living in the city center of a major city means I get LOTS of people doing weird shit like the emoji guy (who wears outfits only with bright fucking emojis, my friends have seen him too, he’s wacky), the tree guy (a man who always walks around with a fallen branch on his head, no idea why), and the supercar medical worker (woman in scrubs who drives down the streets with a loud ass car that looks like one of those fuckass shoes with big holes in them you know what im talking about the kidney shoes). I take a pic and keep them in a folder on my phone called “recurring characters.” I have never seen the singing man. He walks past my house every weekday at 11pm and I like to have my windows open and he sings loud Spanish ballads. I love him. Singing man my beloved. Sorry this is a slowburn, it was forced out of me i fear. is this a slowburn? methinks so.

[astarioffsimpmain]

The Sun-Walker's Illusion

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Author's Note: Here you are, @yennefer-of-vengerbergs!!! I maaaay have gotten a bit carried away with this idea and it morphed into a whole fic. 😅 I hope you enjoy it, my dear! <3

♡♡♡

In the time following your victory over the Elder Brain, you and Astarion had taken to the road, on the search for something that would allow him to greet the sun every day, his only remaining grievance from choosing to stay a spawn. Months had passed and leads were scarce; whispers of a ring that could do the job flitted from reality to fiction depending on who you asked, and not even those who believed it to be real knew where to begin searching for it. His hope was waning. You could see it in the deepening lines on his face and the circles darkening around his eyes. You did your best to comfort him, holding him close each night, reminding him of how much he was loved, and seeking to spend time doing activities with him that had nothing to do with their search.

And yet, despite his persistent attempts to convince you otherwise, his disposition had taken on a somber undercurrent. You knew something had to be done, but what? You couldn't magically conjure this ring that may or may not be fictitious in nature with the snap of your fingers. If you could, well, you would have never ended up in this position to start. You kept a journal, logging all of your adventures with your lover. He didn't know it yet, but it would be his gift at the end of your - hopefully - very long life with him. You were not immortal, and with Astarion remaining a spawn, there was no foolproof way to make you one. He teased you about the journal right now, but you knew he would eventually cherish it. You had begun a list of options on the very back page of things you could do to cheer your darling up.

𝑅𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓎

𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

𝐵𝓊𝓎 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝒾𝓁𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓅 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓈

You had begun doing these things on a far more regular basis in the hopes that he would eventually open up and talk to you about his struggle, and while he seemed to enjoy each action of love - as well as your patience in not prying - , he remained stoic in his efforts to conceal it from you. You had talked about it - of course you had. But he wasn't ready to admit it yet, and you couldn't bear the thought of forcing him. So you waited, trying your best to love him through it. You stared at the blank space next to the last bullet point, willing a solution to appear; something to ease the stagnation and ache your lover was feeling.

You glanced out the window of your shared room at the Hondakar's House in Elturel - a luxury you could afford, being the heroes of Baldur's Gate - and watched the fireflies dance in the evening sky. The warming weather had come as a blessing in the last couple of weeks, bringing a breath of new life into the city. Astarion had once told you how he hated flowers, but you hadn't missed the way his eyes flicked over the ones blooming in the parks and gardens, even in the pale glow of the moonlight. Suddenly, like the gust blowing in from the harbor, you knew what you needed to do.

~ ~ ~

"Don't you touch that cloth, Astarion," you chastised, reaching up to return the blindfold over his bright red eyes.

"Oh, darling, won't you just tell me?" he whined, ever the impatient one.

"Absolutely not. It is a surprise for a reason. You'll find out when we're there."

"Ugh. Very well then, lead the way."

"You'd fall on your face if I didn't."

"...Arse."

Despite his restless protestations, the clearing was not far away from the inn, and you arrived by a mere short stroll. You took a deep breath, glancing around at the preparations you had made, your eyes raking over each detail to be sure everything was still perfect. "Alright," you said at last. "I'm going to take off the blindfold now. Are you ready?"

"Darling, I was ready 10 minutes ago."

"We hadn't even left the inn 10 minutes ago."

"Precisely."

"Alright, alright," you laughed, his snark never failing to put a smile on your face, and his fangy smile in return proved that that had been his intention all along. When the blindfold came off and his beautiful ruby eyes batted open, they widened in surprise almost immediately.

"My love," he murmured breathlessly, his gaze never straying from the air above the clearing. A glass orb hung from a tree branch overhead. Light cascaded out of it in yellow and orange rays, brilliant in their intensity, bringing the trees around them to life; inside, a gemstone imbued with a spell of Daylight - completely harmless to vampires and spawn alike. A small table with a set of chairs sat in the corner, hosting a bottle of vintage wine and two glasses "borrowed" from the Hondakar's kitchen on either side.

Astarion watched, wide-eyed and silent as you produced an empty bottle from your bag. "I figured I could add some of my blood to your wine to make it taste better, but I know you prefer it fresh, so..." You trailed off sheepishly, Astarion's silence stirring confusion in you about whether or not you had done the right thing. But when his finger pressed gently into the underside of your chin, bringing your face up to greet him, his lips met yours. The kiss was soft, tender, unhurried. It felt like hope. When there was space between you again, he gazed at you, unguarded, with light reflected in his eyes.

"What is all this, little love?" he asked quietly, almost as though he was afraid of the answer.

"You've been so down," you whispered, averting your eyes. "I've been worried about you."

When he huffed a short laugh, your eyes flicked back up to his face, so perfectly showcased in the light. He was no longer looking at you, but off somewhere in the distance to his left. "I-" he paused; another huff. "It sounds so incredibly foolish now that I plan to say it aloud, but... I have been... well, I've felt as though I've disappointed you."

"What?!" You were horrified. How could you have given him an impression like that?

"Now before you derail in that little head of yours, just shush for a moment," he said, a finger coming up to boop you on the nose. "I... essentially upended your life. You had a life in the sun to live, family to return to. But I'm bound by this endless darkness." His voice took on an edge that you hadn't heard in awhile. It seems hardly fair to ask you to be my only sun." The ache in his voice hurt your heart, and you were pulling him close before your mind could even catch up. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you held him to you, as though you could love all of his broken pieces back together.

"I have never once doubted my decision to come with you," you said resolutely. "The sun means nothing to me if you are not beside me when I am under it."

He pulled back, but only far enough to capture your lips with his own once more, pressing closer to you beneath the makeshift sun you had created. "My dear," he murmured quietly against your mouth. "I do love you, ever so much."

~

fin

[infamous-if]

Thanks everyone for sending in the bugs and nice words! hopefully I can salvage what I have and come out with the demo in its entirety by the time it comes out publicly, and I’ll be finally getting beta testers so this process of releasing and going back to fix errors can be eliminated when chapter 4 comes out and it’ll be smooth sailing ! I hope people liked the chapter even if it was overshadowed by my mistake agahjahahaha

I think the public demo will last until around chapter 8/9 or so so we still have a ways away 🥲 this is the first real “bump” I’ve had since starting this blog but I’ll see it as a blessing in disguise ! :))

[teenidlegirl]

꣖　 BEAUTY OF THIS MESS 　꣓　 ᤢ♥︎　 CHAPTER　.　O5 　!

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

ᤢ　.　summary　♥︎　੭　the bond between you and miguel grows a little more as you two continue hanging out together. however, things from the past come back unexpectedly.

ᤢ　.　content　♥︎　੭　fluff, angst, pet names, swearing, backstories (since it’s an AU, george o'hara is a good step-dad), brief mention of divorce, mentions of cheating, hint of a crossover

꣖　　previous　　⋅ ꪆৎ ⋅　　masterlist　　⋅ ꪆৎ ⋅　　next　　꣓

getting off work early today was a surprise.

it was a quiet day at the office, not much interesting stories to cover which was very rare in new york. but what surprise you the most is jameson telling you can go home early today. probably the most generous thing he has ever done.

you didn’t question why or hesitate to leave, it was basically a blessing in disguise.

pulling up in the parking garage and parking in your designated spot, your eyes detect a familiar broad figure across the lot. they light up ever so slightly, a your lips subconsciously raised up in a tiny smile.

why not say hi to him? just super quick.

grabbing your purse and exiting your car, you make your way over to him. miguel is kneeling beside his bike, cleaning it with a black rag.

sensing someone approaching, miguel ups look and immediately smiles when he sees you. he worried it would’ve been that annoying neighbor jason from the 6th floor bugging about buying his bike. miguel would never, it’s his precious baby. a huge wave of relief hits him when he realizes it’s you.

he’s glad that it’s you.

miguel quickly takes out his earphones, the wires dangling over the collar of his shirt since he tucked them inside his shirt, and stands up, towering you.

“hey. how was work?” he asks while cleaning his hands with a different, clean rag.

“for once, great. i got off early.”

“that’s good.”

“yeah, it’s just strange because my boss never lets anyone off early but i’ll take it.” you chuckle softly.

“where do you work at again?” miguel recalls you’re a journalist back at the bar with your friends but can’t remember which company you work for.

“the daily bugle.”

“oh, now i see why it’s strange.” miguel chuckles, aware of the company’s, and jameson’s, reputation. “how long have you been writing for him?”

“three years and hopefully more to come.”

miguel smiles softly at your enthusiasm, how hopeful you seem for your future. the sight makes his heart warm. he hopes for more years to come as well.

“so, how long have you had this pretty thing?” you nod your head at his bike.

“7 years, it was birthday present to myself.”

you hum. “my dad used to own a red one.”

“really?” his brows raised up amusingly.

“yeah, it was his first baby but unfortunately had to sell it since he became a dad.”

“must’ve been hard but had to make the sacrifice.”

“he still misses it to this day. he still loves it more than his own damn kids.” you joke.

miguel chuckles at that. “it was a tough sacrifice.” he indulges in your joke. arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging through his shirt.

“it was.” you laugh. “he’s a big motorcycle fanatic, i think you two would get along well.” a tiny smirk plastered on your lips, arms crossed as well.

for some reason, the idea of meeting your dad seems amusing to him. miguel is curious to know your dad’s preferences and opinions. it would be nice to talk to someone with a similar interest. his buddies in the military aren’t the biggest fanatics nor owned bikes themselves but still managed to talk about them.

“i think so too, looking forward to it.” he mirrors your smirk, mimicking each other’s stance.

the amount of times this man has been able to make your heart flutter is insane yet you adore it.

“is your dad a motorcycle fanatic too?”

you watch his smirk falter a little. the amused expression turns into a solemn one. you recognize it from your last encounter. you notice that whenever you ask or mention his family.

“no, he isn’t.” miguel said solemnly. “he’s more into money and control.” he watches your brows furrowed, a sign for him to elaborate. “he’s a ceo.”

you hum lightly, acknowledging the given information. “which company?”

“the most famous company, alchemax.”

your brows raise in astonishment. “wow. well, he definitely is into money and control.”

you’re aware of alchemax’s reputation, one of the most successful companies in the country. the fact your neighbor is the son of the ceo amazes you. it was something you weren’t expecting.

miguel briefly smiles at your amusement before turning away, tossing the used rag in a small container then grabs the other he was using previously. “we were never close.” he crouches next to his bike and begins cleaning. “my step-dad is more of a fanatic.”

now it makes sense, his parents are divorced. you can’t help but feel sympathy for miguel.

“he owned a harley. i never liked harleys, i was more into yamaha and ducati.” miguel elaborates while cleaning his bike with the rug. “he taught me how to ride, how to clean, gave some tips and tricks.”

flashbacks of those days, george teaching a young miguel about motorcycles in the garage. iron maiden blasting through the stereo george had in the garage as he and miguel endorsed in father-son bonding. sometimes gabriel would join them, learning some information about motorcycles but never grew interested in them like his older brother.

those memories makes miguel smile, ever so slightly.

you remain silent, attentive to every word he says. you yourself imagine a little miguel learning about motorcycles with his step-dad. the domestic thought makes you smile as well.

“he taught me how to do my first wheelie, right in our neighborhood. my mom saw it and she was furious.” he softly chuckles at the silly memory.

you laugh as well. “did you get your ass whooped?”

“no, thankfully.” miguel chuckles. “she said i couldn’t do it again and gave my step-dad shit for teaching me. she was more worried than angry.”

“i don’t blame her.” you snort. “wheelies aren’t safe, especially doing it as a kid.”

he chuckles at your retorting words. “it isn’t a good childhood without busting your ass.”

“alright, fair point.”

you and miguel continue chitchatting when he cleans his bike. you’re in a middle of a sentence when your phone suddenly rings. grabbing it from inside your purse, your face drops at the number on the screen.

you recognize that number immediately.

the one phone number you deleted two years ago.

never thought you’d ever see it again.

your blood sudden goes cold as you stare at the number. phone vibrating in your hand as the ringtone echos through out the parking garage.

it can’t be… there’s no fucking way.

he swore to leave you alone…

he swore to never call you again. well… you demanded him to never call you again, delete your number just like you did with his. you were there when he deleted it, to make he did.

but… he kept it?… these two past years?

that lying, selfish son of a bitch.

the other option would be him redialing by memory.

miguel noticed the sudden silence from you, turning around to see your mortified expression staring at your phone. his brows furrowed. “everything okay?”

his voice makes you snap out of it, quickly blinking away the nasty feeling in your chest. “yeah, it’s fine.” quickly tapping the decline button, you shove your phone back in your purse as if nothing happened.

miguel’s brows furrowed more, confused by your sudden change in behavior. you seemed so mortified, it worried him. whoever that called you, you definitely did not want to answer. as if you were getting a phone call from a serial killer.

miguel did not like seeing you so terrified.

he wants to know who was calling you. should’ve taken a glance at the number so he could dial them himself. if it got you scared like that, miguel wouldn’t hesitate to track the caller ID. being part of the military includes hacking skills.

“are you sure? you seemed scared.” hint of concern laced in his tone.

“no, i’m fine.” you lie, shaking your head. “it was just a scam call, that’s all.” a fake smile painted on your face, concealing your freaking out state.

even if you sound genuine, miguel knows you’re lying. you didn’t stare mortified at your phone for a scam call. his concern level rises even more.

he’s about to ask again but you start walking away.

“luna’s waiting for me, see ya.” you flash him a half-hearted smile before rushing away, entering the apartment building, ignoring miguel calling after you but you keep going, never looking back.

a confused, worried miguel left in the parking garage. he wants to chase after you. he was literally packing away his stuff until he noticed you were long gone, completely out of his sight. vanished into the air like a ghost. his brows only furrowed more.

who the hell called you?

why did you seemed so terrified to answer?

it bothers miguel so much. an uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest. unable to feel relief until those questions are answered.

miguel desperately wants to head over to your apartment. but he figures you wish to be alone, left unbothered. the last thing he wants is to pry. it seems personal and miguel wants to respect that.

but that doesn’t stop the unease sensation bubbling inside him, consuming his body.

with a sad sigh, he finishes packing up and leaves.

it’s been four days since that asshole called you.

you were scared he would call back but thankfully he didn’t. that fucker hurt you, why the fuck would he try to reconnect with you?

two years later? no mames güey.

work has been a distraction but also busy. jameson on everyone’s ass like always. one day you had to pick up eddie after his car broke down. he spilled the beans about him and anne have been talking. two old friends reconnecting in a slow process. it’s a great start for them, you wish them well.

after working endlessly, it’s your day off which means relaxing time. you take luna out on a walk around your block. it’s perfect weather for a nice walk out. rays of sunshine casting down on you from the vibrant sun, relishing the warmth. the sky cleared from clouds, only the gorgeous blue atmosphere.

the sunlight makes luna’s fur glow. a white fluff ball wandering around. her adorable little pink bows and matching leash. yes, you’re that type of pet owner who dresses up and stylize their pets. she’s your baby, you dress her up however you like.

as you’re heading back to your apartment building, a figure slowly approaches you.

you smell it… you smell him.

you know his signature scent from miles and miles away. that fucking cologne you adored. the intoxicating scent consuming your senses.

looking forward, your heart fucking drops.

no no no… it can’t be.

he can’t be here.

that son of a bitch who broke your heart. betrayed you with his disgusting behavior and lies. who pathetically begged you to not leave, said he needed you and couldn’t live without you.

why did he need you when he was fucking another woman? in your shared bed, not to mention.

you never forgot that night.

two years later, it still haunts you sometimes.

your blood suddenly goes cold, just like when you got that phone call the other day. his phone call.

clad in a basic black shirt and jeans. an outfit you loved seeing him wear. the asshole knew what he was doing. dressed up like that running back to you.

the asshole who hurt you.

joel fucking miller.

꣖　𝓣ags. ♡ྀིྀི　꣓⠀⠀@reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @marshhbs @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @watertribeissuperior @lovehadlovelost @auiciqa @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @miguelsfavwife @asterrrrose @glossygreene @aefin @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @jadeloverxd @sirendyes @leahnicole1219

©⠀TEENIDLEGIRL⠀♡⠀don’t plagiarize or repost my work

[azzifuddfanpage]

testing the waters

OKAY NEW PAZZ FIC THANKS TOO 😛 ANON

There would not have been a fic if it weren’t for their amazing prompt so bless 😍

^if u wanna read their prompt look at my last post

themes: friends to lovers/ fluff

tw: SMUT

Azzi walked through the doors of Gampel Pavilion. She had just gotten to campus not even an hour before and was already having her first meeting with the team. 

Azzi stood by the back with the other freshman. Still getting adjusted to the thrill of the change in atmosphere. 

Standing on the court was unreal. Azzi turned her head admiring the bleachers and banners that lined the walls. She took in all the greats that came before her, all names she knew and studied growing up. She couldn’t believe that she was finally here, hopefully going to follow in their footsteps.

Azzi listened carefully as Geno’s voice carried through the walls.

“This team that is here right now is one that will never be the same again. This year, with this team, this is temporary. Next year there will be new people, seniors will be gone, and the team will be a whole new team again.” He paused scanning the room eyeing the freshman. 

“You will value every moment you have with this team, build your chemistry now or it will be too late.”  He continued pacing along in front of the group. 

Azzi felt someone’s hand brush against her wrist and a warm gentle breath draw close to her ear. 

“Don’t worry he is all talk. He’s not this scary all the time- well actually maybe just try to stay on his good side.” Azzi knew this voice. 

She turned her head slightly coming face to face with Paige Bueckers. She actually hadn’t prepared herself for how close they would really be, accidentally turning and even feeling  Paige’s breath on her lips. Azzi’s face flushed and she tried to play it off backing up and giggling.

—-

Her and Paige went way back. Paige was even one of the reasons she went to UConn in the first place. 

They had been best friends since 2016 when they met playing for team USA. All it took was one plane ride back to Minnesota and they were best friends for life.

Azzi always had loved Paige. Her laugh, her smile, her long blonde hair, her big blue eyes, her pink lips… just normal best friend type of stuff. But as she got older she started to feel differently about Paige. About girls in general.

Azzi had always liked boys- well she liked watching movies about them. Love and basketball was her favorite movie- “I want that type of relationship.” Azzi would say, almost convincing herself. 

The thing was, she never really knew if she actually ever had feelings for a guy before. Yes she thought they were attractive. In a world where she personally knew Steph Curry, who wouldn’t think guys were attractive. But the thing was, whenever she pictured a future it never included a guy. Infact Azzi would picture herself alone before she would picture herself settling down with a guy. 

Her and Paige even talked about living together jokingly as high schoolers in a purely innocent way.

“If we both don’t find someone by the time we are thirty- I’m gonna have to just marry you.” Paige said with a laugh. Azzi laughed but her laugh never went deeper than the surface. She would have given anything to live with Paige, to marry her, to spend the rest of her life with her. Things would have just been so much easier. 

But what did any of that even mean. Paige was just her best friend. Her beautiful, talented best friend, her hot as fu-. Azzi didn’t really finish that thought. Shutting it down before she could let herself admit what she deep down knew already. 

—-

“Ya I don’t know about that he seems pretty serious.” Azzi whispered back looking up and gulping when she saw Geno look at her while he spoke. 

Paige reassuringly squeezed her wrist, sending butterflies down Azzi’s stomach. Actually they felt more like bald eagles than butterflies to be honest. 

—-

An hour later after he was done talking they had a few hours to go back to the dorms before their offseason weight room. 

Since Underclassman were not allowed to have cars on campus- Azzi being a freshman and Paige a sophmore decided to walk back to the dorms rather than hitching a ride with the others. 

“So… what do you think of the campus so far. It’s awesome, you can say I was right and thank me whenever.” Paige said confidently as she watched Azzi scan the surroundings wide eyed, and taking everything in. 

“Ya everything is so much bigger. I’m gonna need an extra hour to get from class to class at this point.” Azzi replied with a laugh. 

They continued walking going about their day as usual. 

Azzi was excited for this new life at UConn, she looked forward to it. But something about the way Paige looked at her left her wanting more.

As the day turned to night everyone retired to their rooms.

After what felt like forever of just laying in bed unable to sleep Azzi sat up. 

12:30 AM Azzi read on her clock next to her. She flopped back down defeatedly. 

Azzi had never been away from her parents for more than a day, every team USA tournament her parents went to. She never didn’t have someone to tuck her in. 

“Not even 24 hours and I miss my mommy like I’m a five year old.” Azzi whispered to herself.

It may have been better if she had a roomate but no such luck. Her roomate, Ines was an exchange student meaning she would be flying in the next week instead of this one, meaning Azzi was stuck alone. 

She couldn’t hide the tear that slipped out of her eye. She could hear people talking down the hall. Her teammates maybe-hopefully.

She climbed out of bed, wearing her black tank top and pink boxer shorts and made her way out of her room. A little down the hall she saw Paige. 

Her blonde hair was unmistakable. Her laugh echoing down the long hallway. 

Azzi started to walk towards her when suddenly she got a glimpse of the person she was talking to. 

The girl was probably one of the prettiest ones she had ever seen- paige was prettier- and she had thick brown curls like Azzi, and tanned skin a bit lighter than Azzi’s. 

Azzi watched from a far, the pit in her stomach increasing at the way the girl reached out and squeezed Paige’s arm as she laughed. 

Azzi began to turn to head back down the hallway, not wanting to make herself feel any worse than she already felt, and ended up walking right into a lamp. 

The sound of the lamp colliding with the floor made Paige shift her attention down the hall where she saw…

“Azzi? Is that you?” She said confused as to why the freshman was up this late when she knew she always went to bed rather early. 

Azzi froze in her tracks, picking up the lamp and setting it back on the table. Wiping off her tears, she turned slowly. 

“Hi Paige.” She muttered just loud enough for her to hear. 

She watched as Paige said bye to the girl and they both walked as she walked down the stairs to leave.

Azzi could feel her heart pound as Paige walked closer towards her. 

“Why are you awake.” She checks her phone. “It’s 12:30! You should have been asleep like 3 hours ago huh.” She said softly.

Paige notices the wet streaks on Azzi’s cheek. 

“Baby are you okay?” Paige said wrapping an arm around her back. 

Azzi shivered at the nickname, that alone was enough to make Azzi forget everything that she was worried about. Forget being homesick, Paige was her home. 

“I’ve never slept by myself before.” Azzi admitted. 

Paige knew exactly what she meant. Azzi had always been a homebody, now states away from her parents, she was homesick.

“Oh shit I forgot you don’t even have a roommate either right?” Paige said looking at her and running her fingers through her hair lovingly.

Azzi shook her head. 

“Let’s get you back to bed.” Paige said walking her back to her room with her hand resting low and protectively on Azzi’s back.

As Azzi climbed back into bed, she attentively watched Paige’s every move. 

“Paige?” Azzi asked as Paige reentered her room with a glass of water.

“Ya.” Paige said handing it to Azzi and sitting down on the edge of the bed.  

“Can you stay with me. Just for tonight.” 

Paiges heart jumped. 

“I’ll stay with you everyday until Ines gets here how bout that?” Paige said standing up and kissing her forehead. 

Azzi melted into her touch. She could get used to that. 

Azzi nodded watching paige walk over to the other mattress, that had nothing on it. 

“Sleep with me.” Azzi said. 

Paige raised her eyebrow smirking. 

“OH MY GOD PAIGE!” Azzi shrieked throwing a pillow at her head, which Paige of course caught. 

Laughing Paige climbed into the small twin size bed with her. They were basically on top of each other, but they tried to keep their hands to themselves- for now.

—-

As the nights went by they started growing closer. Their touches were more affectionate as they lingered. Azzi even woke up the third day with Paiges arms wrapped around her waist, her shirt had risen and Paiges hands were dangerously close to her breasts. Azzi couldn’t shake the feeling that she actually liked it. 

“Why the fuck do I want my best friend to touch my boobs?” Azzi said with shock, trying to push it to the side and just let Paige cling to her. 

—-

It was finally the weekend. This Saturday they had the day off. 

It was around 11:00 and Paige and Azzi were both in her bed. 

“Hey wanna watch a movie? We don’t have to be up early tomorrow.” Paige said turning to Azzi. “I brought my iPad.” She said grinning.

Azzi giggled, “only if we can watch frozen.” She said.

Paige sighed pulling it out and propping it against a pillow. 

“Whatever you want princess.” She said laughing. 

Azzi was praying to god that the purple led lights masked the red glow of her blush.

It was getting harder and harder for her to hide her feelings for Paige. She was so confused. She was striaght though. Definitely straight. Right??

—-

Halfway through the movie Paige got up to grab some snacks. 

Paige was wearing just a sports bra- literally no clue why- and Azzi could literally feel her heart beating, maybe something else too but she couldn’t pin point it.

Embarrassingly enough Azzi was a virgin. She hadn’t told anyone, no one really asked either. It wasn’t that no one liked her, she simply just didn’t feel the need to be with anyone like that. 

“Why would anyone want to suck someone’s dick that’s just nasty.” Azzi could not understand it for the life of her. 

But now with Paige, she would give anything to feel her fingers inside her…. Maybe she was just finally starting to want to have sex. She was just confused it wasn’t fine.

As paige reentered the room her breath shifted. The pants paige was wearing had hung even lower- showing the outline of her V-line, and she had two waters in her arms. Azzi’s attention immediately scanning up and down her body and then focusing on the vein bulging out of her bicep.

“Like what you see.” Paige smirked making her way over to Azzi and setting down the snacks and waters that were saying down her pockets.

Azzi felt her heat spread to her cheeks.

“Sorry I just-“ she honestly had no idea how to cover that up.

“It’s okay I get it. I have been hitting the weight room.” Paige said wrapping her arm around Azzi laughing as she could feel her tense up under her touch.

Paige always had thought Azzi was straight but now she wasn’t so sure. 

Azzi had never once talked about her love life. And the way she had looked at her the other day when paige was with another girl… the pieces were starting to connect.

A little while later, paige started to get curious, wanting to test her theory out. She began to move her hand a little lower on Azzi’s side. 

She listened to the rise and fall of Azzi’s breath, listened to it speed up as her hand began to move onto her thigh traveling closer and closer inward. 

Paige “coughed” accidentally brushing in between her legs causing Azzi to let out a soft moan. Azzi tried to cover it up with a cough but it was too late.

Paige leaned forward and whispered in her ear. 

“You like it when I touch you princess? Thought u were straight- I should’ve known a pretty girl like u would want something better than a man.” Paige growled causing Azzi to tense up completely caught off guard by her assumption.

Azzi had never told anyone this, she had no idea how Paige was able to see through her so easily.

“Paige I am straight, what are you talking abo-“ she was caught off by another one of her own gasps as Paige ran her hand back around and placed it on her upper ass. 

“See the way you look at me. You sure bout that?” Paige said confidently moving her hand so she was rubbing Azzi’s back through her clothes. 

Azzi’s breath hitched feeling Paiges long fingers slip under her shirt and explore higher on her back.

“You seriously mean to tell me you don’t feel anything when I touch you.” Paige said smirking as she continued to rub her back in a way that left Azzi’s mouth watering in desire. 

“I- I- don’t know. I don’t know what it feels like.” Azzi replied at a low whisper secretly hoping Paige wouldn’t hear it.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you have never had sex before?? What’s a pretty girl like you doing still a virgin.” Paige said honestly her hand stopping and staying rested on her back. 

“I don’t know just never found the right person I guess. I just don’t know what I am, I can’t tell if my feelings are real or not.” 

“We’ll have you ever thought about it.” Paige said simply. 

“Thought about what?” Azzi asked innocently not sure where this conversation was going. 

“About having sex…. I’m sure you have thought about it at least once.” Paige replied.

“I mean I guess kinda but I don’t even know anymore I just feel like my brain is playing tricks on me.” Azzi said shaking her head.

Paige turned Azzi’s face to look at her by grabbing her chin gently. 

“Wanna test it out?” Paige said experimentally. 

“What do you mean test it out.” Azzi asked confused. 

“Paige brought her hand to the front of Azzi’s shirt gently moving it up towards her breasts over her clothes, avoiding them but paying all the attention to them at the same time. 

“I mean why don’t you just try it, like get it out of your system, fuck me and then I gaurentee you will know exactly how you should be feeling.” Paige leaned closer into Azzi’s ear grabbing her by the front of her shirt. 

“I will make you feel better than anyone else baby.” Paige whispered seductively. Azzi could feel something wet between her legs. She couldn’t explain it, it was  feeling she had never really had before.

Without thinking about what this would mean, Azzi nodded.

“Let’s start slow, hm? Ease you into it.” Paige said softly. 

Azzi nodded, she trusted paige more than anything. If paige could show her what she needed to know, then why not. 

With that, Paige brought her lips so they were hovering just above Azzi’s. 

“Let me know when you feel something.” Paige said suggestively right before connecting her lips to Azzi’s. 

There was no turning back now. Both girls sinking into the kiss. Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi’s back grabbing at her ass, and Azzi instinctively stabilized herself by grabbing Paige’s neck. 

The kiss grew quickly. Azzi let out soft moan telling paige exactly what she needed to know.  The second Azzi opened her mouth again letting out a soft whine against paige’s lips, paige shoved her tongue inside her mouth. 

Azzi moaned into her mouth feeling Paiges tongue fight against her own. Paige really knew what she was doing. 

Both girls worked to get closer to each other, causing paige to lay down on top of Azzi, sticking her leg in between hers. As the kiss quickened, paige moved her knee and pressed it against Azzi’s core causing her to let out a shrill moan. 

She had never been touched like that before, paige knew just how to make her feel seen. No one had ever taken care of her needs like this before. 

As Azzi began to get more comfortable and grind down on her knee desperate for some friction, Paige pulled back from her. 

“You feel anything yet?” Paige said giggling as she could see just how dilated Azzi’s eyebrows were desperately in need of her touch.

“Yes a little.” Azzi admitted focusing down on paige’s fingers that rested on her thigh.

Paige noticed this and smirked, she started to move her fingers closer to Azzi’s center. 

“Only a little?” Paige said slyly. “That’s a shame, I thought I felt a little something myself.” Paige said suggestively leaning forward into Azzi’s ear causing her breath to hitch. 

“And I really wanted to know what my fingers felt like inside of you.” Paige said smirking against Azzi’s ear. 

Azzi couldn’t resist it anymore, grabbbing paige’s collar and pulling her back to her lips.

As Azzi’s tongue filled paige’s mouth, she heard paige let out a tiny soft moan. 

“Need you so bad. Show me please. Teach me.” Azzi whined running her hands along paige’s bare abs. 

Paige smirked knowingly. 

“So needy for me huh.” Paige said reaching down so her thumb was now directly on Azzi’s pussy. She started to rub at it blindly through her clothes.

Feeling Azzi thrust towards her she looked into her eyes.

“Can I take these off baby?” Paige asked not looking away from her big brown eyes begging to be fucked.

Without a word Azzi lifted her but so paige could pull down her shorts and panties in one sweep. 

As the air hit her slick she felt nothing but fear and embarrassment. She tried to close her legs, suddenly afraid of what this would mean for her, but paige caught them keeping them apart. 

Azzi looked into paige’s eyes and saw nothing but love as paige eyed her pussy hungrily. She laughed. Oops.

Paige looked up at her laughter.

“What’s so funny.” Paige asked confused. 

“Nothing it’s just ironic. I think I have had a crush on you this whole time and now hear you are literally staring at my pussy the way I have stared at you all these years.” Azzi answered smiling. 

Paige smirked running her hands up her inner thigh, leaning forward to press a kiss against her. Azzi moaned.

She placed another kiss equidistant to the last one.

“I-“ paige started, then left another kiss, sucking a bit harder this time.

“Have felt-” continuing and leaving another kiss.

“The same-“ going back in one more time right above her mound. 

“Way.” She finished settling so now she was just hovering over her pussy.

“Don’t just love this pussy tho.” Paige winked right before diving in to attack her clit with her tongue licking a long stripe up her starting from the entrance of her hole and ending at the bundle of nerves. Azzi moaned loudly tugging at paige’s hair, partially from the love confession, and also from the feeling of paige’s powerful tongue attacking her clit. 

Azzi couldn’t contain her moans as paige sucked and nipped at her clit pullljngbvack and spiting into it spreading the mixture of spit and cum around her clit with her fingers before sliding one of her fingers teasingly into her hole. 

Azzi thrusted forward greedily, needing to feel paige as close to inside of her as possible. 

“Baby relax” paige started “lemme show you why gay is better.” She finished before shoving a finger into Azzi. 

Azzi’s eyes widened and she propped herself up on her elbows so she could see paige ponding the finger into her and simultaneously using her thumb to rub at her clit in small circles. 

“You’re so tight holy fuck.” Paige said as she added another finger leaving Azzi gasping and  moving one of her hands to pull paige towards her to kiss her. 

Paige swallowed her moans continuing to feel around her cervix with her finger as it went in and out, the wet squishing of Azzi’s cum against paige’s fingers filled the silence of the room. 

Pulling back from the kiss paige resumed her focus on her pussy, attaching her tongue to her clit and sucking as she pounded in and out of her.

Paiges middle finger brushed against her g spot causing Azzi to let out a loud breathy moan, arching her back shoving her pussy into  paige’s face. 

Motivated by Azzi’s actions, paige pulled back again from her clit, using her thumb to rub it up and down, separating her folds to expose the pink center of her clit. 

“Prettiest pussy in the world. She loves me.” Paige whispered as if talking to her pussy. 

Azzi sat up to look again as paige slowed down, when all of a sudden paige used one of her hands to press down on Azzi’s lower stomach making her feel like she was about to pee, and her with her other hand that was thrusting two fingers in and out of her, she slipped in a third, barely fitting it in Azzi’s tight cunt. 

Azzi moaned watching the way her pussy sucked in her fingers so naturally. 

As paige leaned back down to her clit, three fingers still pounding into her with power and force, the pressure of paige’s tongue against her was almost too much. 

“Paige I’m gonna cum oh my god.” Azzi moaned throwing her head back. 

“You can cum for me baby.” Paige said against her pussy the vibrations sending her over the top as she could no longer hold back anymore, streams of cum pouring out of her and paige stuck her tongue out drinking it all up.

Paige slowly worked her fingers getting her through the climax as Azzi was left a heap of tears and moans, still very out of breath. The warm sensation still tingling in her pants. 

“Welp I’m definitely gay.” Azzi said with a laugh as paige joined her on the bed. 

“Thank god, I have been waiting to hear you say that for fucking years.” paige said turning to her.

“Really?!” Azzi said surprised that who she now realized was her childhood crush had felt the same way for all these years.

“Damn we really have been waiting time not trying this sooner.” Azzi continued, laughing as she saw the paige’s mouth still glistening in the lights with her cum. 

“Well I guess we will have to just make this a daily thing then huh.” Paige said smirking pulling Azzi closer to her.

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll show you how to eat me.” 

“How about now.” Azzi said confidently flipping them over so paige was back on top of her, where Azzi shimmied down so paige’s cunt was directly above her. 

Pulling her shorts and panties to the side, she got right to work. 

[barbwritesstuff]

Thicker Than - Full Moon Update

Demo Link

Happy full moon everyone! I’m still just doing my thing, slowly but surely nudging this game towards the finish line. I know it’s taking forever, but I know I’ll get there in the end. I’m a completionist. It’s a blessing and a curse.

In terms of new stuff, I’ve added some new stuff to chapter 12, finished chapter 13, and added but not finished chapters 14 and 15. The players who get the most new content right now are players who want to talk to or kill the king and/or those who’ve romanced Nathan. However, there is some new connective tissue text that all players will see.

The demo has a few holes in it right now. I’ve been skipping over the romantic scenes so I can get a bigger, clearer picture of how the endgame is going to look and how it’s going to play out. Once that’s locked in, I think it’ll be easier to interweave the auxiliary stuff (which includes most of the kissing). In the meantime, I’m so excited to write these last three endings. I’m so close I can taste 'em.

Oh! And, before I forget, I haven’t had time to made new chapter titles (I made them way back when I started writing this game and only made up to chapter 13) so those headers aren’t going to look pretty yet, but hopefully that’s okay.

Update Details +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As of the 13th of February 2025

Chapter 13 is finished

I've added Chapters 14 and 15 (both incomplete)

Additional Words: 18,929 (excluding commands)

Total Word Count: 497,962 (excluding commands)

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

P.S.

If you want, you can become a member on Kofi to see my weekly progress for $5 AUD (which is like $3.13 USD) a month. Full disclose, I'm not writing very fast right now. I've got several projects I need to balance and also real life stuff (like earning a living) to worry about. However, I'm really trying to update every Friday and I'm very grateful for anyone who does contribute. Just that little bit of extra income at the end of the month has made what would've been some very stressful times last year manageable and I cannot thank you all enough.

Also included: random unscheduled blog posts.

P.S (squared)

I have a book coming out!

Spaceship vs Dracula. It's very silly, it's very strange. It's the thing that got me through 2022.

Also, because it's full moon here's a gif. Remember when I used to open all of these update posts with a random moon gif? Yeah. Me neither.

[meanbossart]

i just need to take a second to gush about how much i love durge drow and astarion, they feel so fleshed out and perfectly written together in their fucked up wretched ways. They really inspire me to write more for my own tavs, hopefully one day ill be able to say im as happy with my own work as i get when seeing yours. I have to ask though, do you have any tips on drawing head shapes and faces? or maybe about wrinkles? i find i really struggle with that stuff when drawing and i adore how expressive and grungey all your art looks!

First of all thank you so much, I love hearing what people think of the two of them together 😭

Honestly you've hit on something that's quite near and dear to my heart, I love developing and figuring how to draw and stylize different faces to get the most unique, interesting looking results - everything about the details is highly rewarding to me. What does x type of nose look like from this angle? In this style? How can this eyeshape best translate to my art? How different does a face look when its making this expression? What does that MOUTH DO? etc etc.

In fact you kind of inspired me to put a little tutorial/guide together the last hour lmao and what a blessing it is that the two current subjects of this blog serve as great models here, being that their faces are basically polar opposites!

When it comes to heads, you've probably heard it a dozen times before that you want to think of them in terms of geometry and facets; my process to drawing them is pretty conventional so I won't spend too much time on it, but it goes something like this:

Obviously I don't do every single one of these steps most of the time, which is just something that comes from practice/developing muscle memory, but it is helpful to start off this way for two main reasons:

By making these guide lines and splitting a head into pieces like this, you'll have an easier time seeing and understanding it as a multidimensional object, and in turn, facilitate It for you when you venture out into doing wacky angles and lighting.

Making different headshapes starts HERE. notice how Astarion's "face" slate is narrower and longer, how my durge's jaw pieces sit lower on the head, how all of the same pieces came together in the same way but we ended up with one real pointy elf and a real brick of a drow - making characters look different successfully begins very early in the sketching process.

The next thing you want to do branches out into every day life: start noticing yours and other people's facial features. How does an upturned nose look from a high angle? How does the size of someone's cheekbones affect what they look like when they smile? How about when the light hits them a certain way? Does someone's lip shape changes when they pout? When they laugh? How does a person's hairline change the shape of their face? You do NOT need to creepily sketch every stranger you see on the bus, but get into the habit of actually noticing what people look like when you talk to them - when you look at pictures, when you watch movies - make a mental list of interesting ways mouths, noses, and eyes can come together in a variety of different proportions to make completely distinct looking mugs, and how they change depending on how you are looking at them.

Light and shadow play a HUGE role in how faces look, too, basically as crucial as actual bone structure does. As you see up there I tried to rough out how natural, head on, and underhead light would look on these two very different looking guys, and while we can see definite patterns, there are small differences that come to be because of the sizes and shapes of their features.

Here is a very, very basic look at how some of these features come to look the way they do, how they interact with one another, and how they compare between a blocky, rather conventionally "masculine" head and one that's much softer and slimmer.

Note please that it is not one or two characteristics that give a chaarcter their "look"; you can reduce a face to eyes, mouth, and nose through stylization and still have them be recognizable, but if you want to do more than that, you have to consider the whole package! Chin, cheeks, brows, direction of the jaw, slope and size of the forehead, depth of eyes, ridge of the nose, etc - I know this is probably far more than you bargained for, but if you start making note of a FEW of these things now and slowly add on, this will eventually become second nature to you.

Similarly, understanding how these characteristics come together will help you with rendering light and shadow in a realistic way, and predicting what their facial expressions may look like - if no two people are alike, neither are their smiles. :)

Lastly, remember that I'm no expert - I have developed my own methods and semiotics and yours may look slightly (or vastly) different, and that's fine! I hope only that by sharing this it has given you a base to work off of.

Anyways, I HOPE this has been helpful and not just the unsolicited ramblings of a face pervert.

[picklemafia]

Hello again, poetry friends, and even all you party people. The poems that everyone made for the last prompt were absolutely amazing, to such a degree that it makes me want to do another one far too early!

Without further ado, I would like to thank @noxnightingales for coming up with the amazing prompt Galaxy!

If you're new to the idea, we choose one word to base an entire poem off of. Doesn't have to be the exact word. For example, instead of Galaxy specifically, maybe your poem is about The Milky Way instead.

After you write your poem, you would hopefully tag me in it so I can reblog it and let others read your work!

I can't wait to see what everyone comes up with!

-------------------------------------------------------

Galaxies

I sit and ponder at the galaxies before me

How could one such as I have found such a thing

To get lost in such a thing

To give witness to such sights is a blessing from the cosmos, there is not a doubt in my mind

The many colors before me

Many twinkles bursting forth, holding my attention fervently

What wonders to behold here

Promises of adventure everlasting

Promises of eternity lost within the fathoms of these two galaxies before me

What secrets to detect

Looking through these mirrors into a soul as boundless as yours

I found galaxies in your eyes

- J.Lamana

© 2025 picklemafia/J.Lamana | Reposting on this platform is permitted with proper credit. Reposting on other platforms is not allowed. No edits. All rights reserved.

[thoughtfulfiction]

The Game Plan

Author’s note: Merry Christmas Bolt fam🩵Still working on rewrites but I needed to write something new to get inspired. I am done with school so I’ll hopefully be able to get fics out more often!

Last time he was this nervous, he stood on shaky legs in front of a New York crowd accepting the William V. Campbell trophy. Public speaking wasn’t his favorite thing in the world and he hated talking about himself. But this was about a hundred times more important. And more nerve wracking.

When Justin suggested flying to your hometown to spend some time with your parents, you didn’t bat an eye. You’d been talking about making a trip back home after the season was over and were elated to discover that he was on the same page. Now that the time had come and you were looking at him as he drove the rental car to your family home, you couldn't help but think maybe he was regretting his decision. The man was constantly fidgeting in his seat, his grip on the steering wheel tight, eyes full of stress and semi concern.

"You okay?" You furrowed your eyebrows at him, urging your boyfriend to let you in on whatever was causing him such turmoil.

"What? Oh yeah no, I'm fine." He knew that sounded less than convincing. "It's just weird with the season being over. Almost like I have to learn how to relax again. This week will be good though."

Nodding in understanding, you place a hand on his leg hoping that the simple touch will ease his mind. Little did you know he was in the midst of a huge inner crisis. Justin rehearsed what he was going to say a few more times before pulling into your parent's driveway. Swallowing down his nerves, he grabbed your suitcase and his, walking toward the front door feeling like his legs weighed a ton each.

Your mom had already taken you away to the kitchen by the time he walked in, immediately lost in conversation about work and life while your dad grabbed one of the bags out of Justin's hands. The two men trudged up the stairs to drop off the bags, exchanging pleasantries and getting settled in before heading to the backyard to cook. Your dad loved Justin. He was the perfect partner for you, a perfect mix of fun/exciting and responsible/caring. He had seen you fall more and more in love with the quarterback over the years which made it easy to love him too. And getting to talk about football all day with someone who actually valued such intimate conversations about the sport helped.

All of the distracting small talk was out of the way, Justin had complimented your dad on his new grill and the improvements he'd made on the backyard and they had unpacked some of the nitty gritty details of the season and who your dad thought they should draft as perfect additions to the roster for the next season and the only thing that remained was the pit of nerves in his stomach that hadn't disappeared since boarding the plane.

"Something on your mind?" Your dad was observant, not really one to beat around the bush. He'd noticed a slight edge to Justin's voice since the two of you had arrived and was really trying to wait to give him some time. He'd obviously gotten too impatient. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Justin's had relationships before. Not many times, but he's felt security and love in other people, seeing a future with them and thought about what the rest of his life would look like. Being with you was not only the most serious relationship he'd ever been in but he found himself constantly planning for the future and setting his family up for long-term success, a family that he now couldn't envision without you. He swallowed thickly, suddenly overcome with emotion at the words that he needed to express to your father. "There is something on my mind actually," he clears his throat, trying really hard to maintain eye contact and not look down at the grill. "I wanted to come here first thing to ask you for your permission."

"My...permission?"

"Your permission, your blessing. Either one. Or both." Your boyfriend rambles on nervously, the words tumbling out of his mouth completely out of order and unlike anything he’d just spent time practicing.

Your dad still looks at him, confused. Justin sighs, "I love your daughter more than anything in the world. She’s the greatest thing in my life and I never thought I’d have the opportunity to be with someone so special. Now that I’ve gotten to be with her I don’t ever want to let her go and...it's really important for me to ask you before I propose."

In that moment it all begins to click and your dad nods. Here was one of the most calm and collected quarterbacks in the NFL stumbling over his words out of nerves because he wanted to ask for permission before getting engaged. A man who's build could arguably be compared to ancient Greek deities was a mere mortal when it came to you and it took every ounce of your dad's strength not to crack a smile. "You came all this way to ask me if you can marry my daughter. So you could do this in person?" The younger man nods. "Before I answer, can you promise me one thing?"

"Anything." Justin says without hesitation. He didn't care what he had to do, he just knew he was going to do it no matter what it took.

Your dad looks toward the house, watching you and your mom laughing while getting the sides set on the table. He looks back at Justin, eyes brimming with tears. "She is my greatest treasure. Promise me you will treat her like nothing less than that."

"I will sir, you have my word."

Justin holds out a hand and your dad pulls him in for a hug. "Welcome to the family son," patting him on the back. The quarterback swore he heard a crack in the other man’s voice but said nothing.

You watched the exchange from the kitchen, slightly confused because your dad didn't exactly give out free hugs like they were Halloween candy. "What is happening out there?"

Your mom catches her husband's eye at the end of the hug, seeing him point at his ring finger and trying to contain her excitement. "I'm sure it's nothing," she smiles, handing you another plate to set on the table, "Justin probably asked him if he wants to golf tomorrow. You know he's been trying to get more into it and bringing an NFL quarterback in front of all of his friends is definitely going to boost his confidence." The two of you stood in silence for a bit until you seemed satisfied with that answer and the two men were back inside, immediately distracting you from asking any further questions as conversation flowed as the food and wine were consumed. Justin helped your mom wash the dishes that night, deep in some secret conversation filled with sporadic giggles and all you could think about was how lucky you were to find someone that fit in so seamlessly. Little did you know they were planning a surprise that you'd never forget.

Step one? Find the perfect ring.

"Isabella, I need a favor," Justin takes a seat at the counter next to his sister-in-law. "You need to distract y/n for a couple hours so I can go through her phone."

Placing her own phone down, she looks at him like he's grown another head. "Why in the hell would I do that? Why would YOU do that?” The more she talks the more visibly upset she looks and Justin is severely regretting not being more specific.

“It’s—it’s not what you think. I just—”

She holds up a finger to keep him from explaining himself any more. “I just want you to know that I’m never thought you’d be one of those people and it’s really disappointing.”

He sighs, looking around to make sure that you aren’t walking in any time soon. “I heard you guys talking last week. About how you had a bunch of videos in your Tik Tok likes that helped you plan your wedding. Then she mentioned that she’s been saving some rings that she thinks would look good on her and I need to see those. So I can design the best ring.”

The tension in her body is instantly released and her features are filled with relief. She holds a hand over her mouth to hide a happy squeal before taking a moment to compose herself so she doesn’t give anything away when she sees you. “You’re proposing,” she whispers leaning in close so no one else can hear.

He leans in too, a wide grin on his face. “I’m proposing.”

“I’ll keep her busy,” she promises, giving him a fist bump.

A girls only DIY spa night in gave him the perfect outlet to grabbing your phone. As soon as the cucumber slices were on your eyelids and Isabella gave him the sign, your cellphone was in his hand and he got to work. He screenshotted 13 different ring designs, jotting down some notes in his own phone, looking at various ring styles and the cut that would best match the style that you were looking for. Then he jotted down some local jewelers to visit and design the ring in person, going as far as flying your best friend to Oregon for a few days under false pretenses that she had a work trip in the area and decided to stay at the ranch since it was nicer than a hotel.

Approximately four weeks after his initial meeting with the jeweler, Justin held the velvet box in his hands and admired everyone’s hard work. He’d had a hand in designing every crevice of the ring that looked much smaller in between his fingers as he examined the diamond. Fresh nerves were beginning to set in as the moment became more and more tangible and real. Once he found a secure spot to hide the ring, he moved forward with the next part of his master plan.

Step two? Come up with proposal ideas.

The beautiful thing about the offseason was that you still had to work remotely, so you’d be in your office in one corner of the house and after his morning workout he had all the free time in the world. The bad thing about that was that he had all this free time to sit and think about how he was going to set up an unforgettable proposal. Luckily, some of his receivers had come down for a Nike promo event and to throw so he had people to bounce ideas off of.

“What about this? I take her to Sofi and propose in the middle of the stadium with just the two of us. We have the video board showing monumental moments of our relationship and as she’s watching I just get down on a knee.”

Ladd takes a sip of water, making eye contact with Derius, who says nothing. Justin continues pacing, taking the collective silence as a sign to suggest something else.

“Don’t everyone jump up at once,” he lets out a nervous laugh, wracking his brain. “Maybe I could drive us to Napa Valley with dinner and some music?” That suggestion earned more interaction, some guys nodded, recalling their own proposals and having him take some pointers from their experiences. There was a time where he couldn’t log onto Instagram without seeing one of his teammates getting engaged and the only thing that made him more nervous than proposing was the media circus that would result from the news getting out. Yes, he wanted it to be special and intimate but the thought of the social media team getting their hands on it and invading your privacy was a little scary. Somehow he had to push that thought out of his mind and tackle one problem at a time.

“Private beach proposal in Hawaii?”

Simi stands up at the suggestion, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Sounds beautiful in theory, but aren’t you scared of having the ring so close to the water?”

“Yeah what if you’re so nervous that you drop the box and it’s washed away by the tide,” Ladd notes. “The less distracting things around you the better. Helps you focus on just her.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, he’s obsessed,” Patrick says, walking by just to chastise his brother. Justin flips him off without uttering a word, an unwavering focus on the task at hand.

Nothing seemed right, some ideas were too flashy, too cheesy. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him, how you’d changed his perspective on life and balancing work and your relationship. That it was possible to do both because the right person brings things out of you that you didn’t even know where there. How do you encompass all of those feelings into one perfect location?

“I’m not gonna lie,” Simi says, voice full of sincerity. “You gotta let the perfect time come to you, you’ll know when the time is right. Trust me.”

Justin had no other choice at this point. He spent the next few weeks holding onto the ring, desperately looking for the right time. Spending all this time stressing and planning and plotting had really taken him away from you. There was an unspoken distance between the two of you and it had become increasingly upsetting. Even when you were in the same room it felt like he was miles away, stuck in his own head, shutting you out completely. You were starting to think that he was looking for a way out and couldn’t decide on a way to let you down easy. The thought of him tip toeing around a breakup made you nauseous.

“Why haven’t you done it yet? You can’t keep putting this off forever,” you heard Mitch say one morning after you came home earlier than expected from an in-person work meeting. Usually you wouldn’t eavesdrop, but Justin’s behavior hadn’t exactly given you a vote of confidence in the state of your relationship. You couldn’t even really remember the last time you went on a date without him looking like he was seconds away from getting sick.

Justin on the other hand had spent every dinner date thinking about whether or not this was the moment. Walking around with the ring in his pocket everywhere he went just in case, deathly afraid of you finding it on accident. That thought alone, of him walking in the house to you holding that ring box not only made him want to cry a little at the ruined surprise but also make him feel like throwing up. And he was tired of hearing everyone and their mom ask him when he was going to pull the trigger and propose.

Especially when he felt like it was happening every single day.

“I’m not putting it off! I just—this is harder than I thought. It’s not just something to check off the to-do list. I gotta do it right or I’m not doing it at all.”

He felt so bad about dumping you that he was putting it off…so he could do it the right way? What even is the right way to end a relationship? You didn’t want to stick around to find out, making your way back outside to sit in your car and think about your next move.

“Justin is planning on dumping me.” You sighed into the phone, calling your best friend.

“What? Where did you get that from?”

You spent the next 20 minutes explaining to her all the signs. His weird behavior, always on his phone but will never let you see what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. You feel like he’s hiding something but he makes sure to only give you minor details saying he’s planning a trip with the guys or talking to his agent about taking on different endorsements. It all just seems too fishy. Why is he torturing you like this by stringing you along? Should you just break up with him first?

“You have to act normal like you don’t suspect anything,” you hear at the other end of the line. Her voice is calm and reassuring which is nice because the last thing you needed to hear was that she didn’t believe you. “If he’s breaking up with you then let him explain him himself. Justin has never been someone to do things without a purpose and you know he’d never do anything knowing that it would hurt you.”

She had a point. “Fine. You’re right, I’ll hear him out and figure it out after I gather all the information. Thank you for talking me off the ledge.”

“You’re welcome.” As soon as you hung up the phone, your friend texted Justin that he should start acting a bit more casual because you were freaking out.

The next evening, he surprised you with a bonfire movie night.

“What’s all this?”

Justin pats the spot on the outdoor couch next to him, welcoming you to take a seat. “An apology? I’m sorry I’ve been off lately. There’s been a lot on my mind and I got so lost in my head that I’ve been neglecting you but that stops today. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you at all, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Care to share with the class what was bothering you for so long?”

You cuddle into his side, a sense of comfort immediately taking over the constant state of unease that previously surrounded you. Looking up at him, he places a gentle kiss on your lips, so soft it leaves you wanting more. “It doesn’t matter now, all that I care about,” he sneaks another kiss, “is being right here with you.”

“Well in that case,” you whisper, “we should make s’mores.”

Justin laughs, kissing you on the cheek and rising to his feet, helping you up before heading into the kitchen. The tray on the counter was loaded with various snack items, Reese’s cups, pretzels and strawberries along with normal s’more ingredients. As you made your way back to the bonfire and began to dig in, a thought popped into your mind while enjoying the stillness.

“We can’t do things like this in LA. You can’t beat the scenery out there and the background noise of the traffic isn’t exactly the most romantic.”

He looks up at the sky full of stars, remembering exactly why he bought land out here in the first place. “I’ve always thought about raising our future kids here. Los Angeles is where I work but this is home, they can grow up and be normal kids here. Play outside, go fishing, experience a childhood that has lasting memories. Not sitting in traffic for hours and never seeing a real tree.”

“Our kids?”

“Yeah,” he says without hesitation. “I think about Coach getting our son his first pair of khakis.”

You laugh, picturing it in your head, “and he’d probably get our daughter a custom pair of cleats to wear pregame.”

“Exactly,” he throws his head back to laugh at the image of mini versions of you and him being spoiled by his head coach. He grabs another strawberry, dipping it in the melted chocolate and feeding it to you. “How many kids do you want?”

“Let’s say it at the same time.”

He counts down from five, saying “three” at the same time you do.

Looking at each other in shock, you burst into laughter at the fact that you have identical answers despite the fact that you’d never openly spoken about it. You each knew the other wanted children but just didn’t know exactly how many. Justin felt like his heart might burst with an uncomfortable and overwhelming amount of happiness. If it wasn’t clear then, it is now.

There, in that moment, nothing seemed more perfect. He looked down at your hands, spotting the manicure you’d gotten last week before attending a wedding. Simi’s words came flooding back, you’ll know when the time is right.

And that time was right now.

“I’m gonna head inside and grab another water, do you want anything?”

“I think I’m okay. Thank you though,” you barely acknowledged the exchange, wrapped up in finding the perfect movie to watch as you scrolled through all the streaming services. Today, the most simply normal day was about to be extraordinary and his feet couldn’t carry him inside fast enough to grab the ring.

His heart was beating in his ears walking back outside. He clears his throat to get your attention and the look on his face makes you stand. “What happened?”

“I spent so long trying to create the perfect moment. But I just realized that every moment with you is perfect.”

Your voice catches in your throat and you’re forced to speak in a hushed tone. “What are you doing?”

He takes a deep breath, holding the box firmly in his hand. “I love you. You’re the one I want to build a home with, create a family with, grow old with and everything in between that this life has to offer. I’m sorry it took me so long, that I spent so much time trying to capture some picturesque scene that we’ll remember forever. You and I, right here is memorable. Being with you is all I’ve ever needed, all I’ll ever need. For the rest of my life.” He opens the box and you audibly gasp, everything in your body tingling and buzzing with excitement. Everything made sense now, his nerves, the secrecy…everything. He was trying to make all of your dreams come true.

Holding your hand in one and the box in the other, he gets down on one knee. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you respond immediately, sounding out of breath while wiping a tear from your eye. “A thousand times yes, of course I’ll marry you!” Sliding the ring that fits exactly like it was tailored to your finger, he stands up and wraps his arms around you, a small tear escaping him.

Justin kisses you, a passionate deep kiss, relieved that everything had gone even better than he’d imagined, pulling you in so close that you can feel his steady heartbeat. His movements were long and slow, a slight grin against your lips as you give into belonging to each other. Lost in paradise he leaned his forehead against yours, both of your eyes still closed in awe that this actually just happened.

“Here’s to a lifetime of perfect moments and sometimes the best plan is no plan. I love you Justin, this is amazing I couldn’t ask for anything more incredible.” You pulled away, opening your eyes to look at your hand. “And this ring? You’re crazy.”

“I am crazy. Crazy about you,” he kisses you on the forehead, running his hand across your fingers. “I love you so much, fiancée.”

[winterbugle]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

FWB BUCKY BARNES X F!READER

MODERN AU

TW: angst, mentions of sex, Bucky being stupid deserves its own tw.

WC: 3.5k

A/N:

Not the most gut wrenching but it’s my first time writing a mainly angst fic so pls enjoy!! This got the most votes on the poll so here it is. Tysm all for voting, the poll is still open as I post this but I haven’t finished the other highly voted for fic yet so I chose to polish this one and post it first :) Asking Buck to fix ur car should be up by Wednesday or Thursday lovelies 🫶 Happy reading (or not, this is angst after all…)

—————————————🝮★🝮—————————————

“So no real feelings or anything between you two? Really?”

“No way man, she’s just a girl who I screw on occasion”

What the fuck? Is that what he really thought?

Okay, okay. Let’s rewind, to a few months prior.

It wasn’t like you and Bucky were together, but it was complicated. A dreaded situationship, if you will. Or as you called it, total bullshit.

You’d never say that to Bucky though, it was you who initiated intimacy in the first place. Besides, it was a mutual agreement to stay friends so no one is really to blame, right?

Yeah, as if it was that easy.

It started off with a kiss. You were drunk off your asses and one glance led to lingering touches and all of a sudden, you’d woken up in his bed, regretting the shift in your friendship. Well it wasn’t a minor shift, it was an entire fucking revelation for you. Damn the guy who sang ‘it was only a kiss how did it end up like this’. Or bless him, for making the most relatable song in the history of music.

Bucky Barnes was all consuming. Like guilt, or grief, or any emotion that consumes you whole and latches itself to your skin, clawing its way into the depths of your soul. He was something so unforgettably and unforgivingly consuming.

But you’d never tell him that, no. He was scared of commitment and permanence. You were scared of temporality.

So how did you end up so wound up in each other? I guess opposites really do attract.

It was a New Year’s party when you first noticed a subtle hint of something new in his eyes. You were leaning on his arm, a martini in your hand as you laughed at Sam’s joke, glancing at Bucky. You regretted it immediately. Because he was staring at you like there was nothing else in the world that could possibly take his eyes off of you.

It wasn’t his fault, though. You were dressed like you were expected on a red carpet in your stupidly perfect form fitting silk dress and looking like heaven on earth. He found no flaws or faults in you.

You shied away from it, the weight of it hitting you like a truck going 100 miles per hour with no intention of slowing down, much less stopping.

Bucky was sober, which made it all a thousand times worse for you. You couldn’t read his mind. You couldn’t know if he was looking at you with lust or longing. Maybe both? Hopefully neither.

Then he took you home and helped you slip off your dress, wiping off your makeup and helping you to bed. But it was you who pulled his shirt and kissed him, drunkenly asking him to stay with you. Bucky insisted he go home, but your asking turned to begging and one thing after another he found himself balls deep in you and mumbling sweet nothings into your ear about how ‘fuckin’ gorgeous you looked tonight, drove me wild baby y’know that?’

Then it hit you next morning along with your hangover: What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

Maybe it was the way he looked at you when you were coming down from the high or the words he mumbled to you but you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop. It turned from a one time thing to a once-a-week thing.

Now, months later, you had come to accept that you were irreversibly in love with Bucky.

You, Bucky, Natasha, Sam, Steve and Wanda were all enjoying the warmth of the summer night, chatting on Sam’s boat in Louisiana. With a beer in hand and no thought of your phones, the last few hours were spent gossiping, drinking and the few games that you’d played.

You were sat beside Bucky who had his arm draped lazily around your shoulders as you rested into his side, nursing the beer in your hands.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like being with them, but the group couldn’t distract you from your thoughts. The ones that reminded you: Bucky wasn’t yours. Maybe in terms of intimacy and lust but he would never look at you with real love. The love that you see in movies, where the guy is in so deep and the girl is hesitant about making the move. The love that bonds you to the other’s soul and intertwines itself into your dna, becoming a part of you that you pass onto the physical manifestations of your love.

Bucky would never consider a life with you, because he was scared of permanence.

It wasn’t until Natasha asked you to help her inside that you noticed the blur of your vision. Composing yourself with clearing your throat, you stood up with a tight smile and followed her.

“You looked like you were about to bawl for a second out there, y’know”

She didn’t mean any harm by it, she was just checking up on you. Saving you from the humiliation that would come if you burst out crying. So why did it break the dam inside you and force you to the floor with tears flooding down your face? Why was it that tonight of all nights, Bucky Barnes had unknowingly moved you to tears?

“Tell me it’s not him who’s got you like this”

Wanda had come in, aware of the way your eyes glossed as you kept to yourself 5 minutes prior and decided to follow you inside.

You couldn’t choke the words out even if you tried. You couldn’t explain the way Bucky made you feel just by being himself. Natasha saw it in your eyes and Wanda felt it in the way you attached yourself to him at every gathering.

You and Bucky weren’t something that would happen. At least, it was clear to you that he wasn’t looking for that.

Crying in the bathroom of Sam’s house while the others drank beer and laughed obliviously was not an experience you would ever want to relive. It was tearing your heart from your chest.

It took less than an hour to calm down, Natasha and Wanda doing their best to easy you into calmness.

But oh how you wished you didn’t walk back out. The words you heard were the ones that did it for you. The only words that you knew would send you over the edge, grieving over the way you’d never feel the same after Bucky.

It was only the boys sat on the boat, chatting amongst themselves about god knows what.

But that wasn’t what stopped you in your tracks in the doorway. It was Steve asking Bucky about you.

“So you and her huh? You know Buck, I see the way she looks at you and I have to ask if you’re dating yet”

Sam raised his eyebrows with a chuckle, chiming in.

“Yeah Bucky c’mon man, she’s got heart eyes for you and you’re treating her like any other friend”

“Well yeah, we’re not dating”

Bucky sighed and took a swig of his beer, trying to brush off the conversation and hopefully bore the other two into another topic. Sam and Steve weren’t known for being easy though. The one thing Bucky wouldn’t do was face commitment. He never said why but it was clear that he didn’t want anything real with you, just sex.

“So no real feelings or anything between you two? Really?”

“No way man, she’s just a girl who I screw on occasion”

You had to do a double take to see it was Bucky who said those words, because at first you couldn’t- wouldn’t, believe it. Is that what Bucky really thought of you?

“Dude no way I don’t believe that”

Sam frowned, clearly not buying the way Bucky titled your relationship. It was more than just an occasional fuck and both of you knew it but neither wanted to admit it.

Because Bucky was scared of permanence and you were scared of temporality.

To a passerby, it would seem like you two would never work. Like two yins and or yangs but never yin and yang. But to you, somewhere deep down you knew that Bucky felt the same way about you. He was just better at ignoring it. Just how he seemed to ignore your obvious feelings for him. Just how he unknowingly ignored your presence as he named you his meaningless side piece. Just a ‘girl he screws on occasion’. When he feels like it. Like he has control over the relationship.

But he does have control over you, he just doesn’t know it.

Fear clawed its way into your body and snaked its way around your lungs and squeezed. Squeezed until suddenly everything was fuzzy and your head was spinning. It tore its way into your ribcage and shoved your heart into your throat and halfway out of your mouth as you were like a deer in headlights, the world- your world, crashing down around you.

Everything you thought you knew about Bucky, everything you felt, was forgotten in that moment. Your mind started to run overtime and overload with questions of betrayal and disbelief, trying to convince you that it wasn’t Bucky saying that. It was some other version of himself because he wouldn’t think about you like that… would he?

It almost made you laugh for a second. The way you had short circuited and broken right then and there in a matter of seconds at spoken words. Maybe it was laughable, how quickly Bucky tore you down and he didn’t even think twice about it. It made you think- somewhere in the back of your mind, did actions really speak louder than words? Because his words rang loud in your ears, so loud that it was a miracle there wasn’t blood dripping from them.

“So what, it’s.. ‘casual’, now?”

Steve sat back in slight surprise, his suspicion of your relationship with Bucky being flipped on its head as Bucky denied his own feelings for you. He figured a while ago that they were there- Bucky felt differently about you than he had anyone else and it bewildered Steve why he denied it. Why he denied himself the chance to be with you, the only girl who’d loved him for him. But Steve didn’t get that it scared Bucky to think about being so committed to you. Like a lot of people he had the fear of screwing it up so badly you’d never bat an eye at him after.

“I don’t know Steve. She’s nice and all but I just-”

“You’re going to lose her completely if you treat her like your side chick, you know that right?”

Bucky just went quiet, sighing and finishing his beer as he stared at the swaying water. Maybe if he went silent, it would fix itself. But then he heard movement behind him and he wished he’d spoken. He wished he’d filled the silence with something so he never heard you move. Because when he saw the way your mascara had run down your face and the shake in your hands, he knew. Knew he’d fucked up because he didn’t just keep his mouth shut and grow up. He wanted to get up and protest- ‘it wasn’t what it sounded like’. But Bucky knew it would be useless because the damage was already done and your heart was clearly already broken.

Sam mumbled an ‘oh shit’ and looked at Bucky who was frozen in place, earning a harsh jab from Steve to get up and talk to you.

But you were already gone, pulling your hood over your head and your headphones over your ears, a way of blocking out the world. Your world had already crumbled, you didn’t care about the rest of the world. It was the middle of summer but there was an unmistakable shiver that crept up your spine as Bucky’s words played on repeat, each time feeling more like a punch to the gut than the last. You hated the way he destroyed you so easily because you knew that you’d go back even if he didn’t ask you to.

Bucky Barnes was not someone you could escape. You could hide away in the darkest corners of the earth and somehow, a part of him would follow you.

He didn’t know what it was that made his heart race. Maybe it was the realisation that you were the best thing that had ever happened to him, or the way your shaking hands made his heart hurt in his chest. He didn’t care. In that moment, all he wanted to do was make it better. To fix what he’d so brutally destroyed in a matter of seconds. In the back of his mind he questioned if that was really all it took to shatter what he had with you. Bucky knew it wasn’t, he knew it wasn’t over. At least- he prayed to whatever god there might be or whatever higher power watched him in that moment- that it wasn’t over, because he didn’t know what he’d to if it was.

You told yourself that you wanted nothing to do with Bucky in that moment. Not the Bucky who’d said those words so easily about you. You wanted the Bucky who looked at you like you mattered, who held you to his chest as if you’d turn to dust if he relaxed his vice on you. The Bucky you trusted without needing to vocalise it. You placed an unspoken and unbroken trust in him. Unbroken until now.

Bucky’s grip on your wrist pulled you out of your silent hell, a gasp leaving your lips as you turned to him, forgetting about the outside world. It had all faded away into a haze aa you sobbed your way home so when the one person you couldn’t bear to look at pulled you back with an insistent look in his eye, it was fair to say it shocked you.

You had nothing to say to him. Even if you did, the words wouldn’t leave your mouth. They would liquify in your throat and suffocate you until your heart poured out past your lips with all the words you wanted to say. Maybe if you stayed silent, he would go away.

But why did both of you think that silence would bring avoidance?

“Baby ‘m sorry”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

You sounded like someone else. As if you were somewhere else because you simply couldn’t face Bucky. He’d never felt the coldness that radiated off of you and it scared him. It was a small mistake, a name that he offered you even if he wasn’t willing to commit to it. An allusion to something more than just sex. A flicker of hope that he did feel it- the burning in your chest when he kissed you and kept his eyes shut as if trying to pause the moment and save it in his hearts memory. A prayer that those mornings- when he woke up before you and cooked you a proper breakfast with coffee, waiting until you’d finished eating to leave, would become a daily routine.

“I know- and I’m sorry. I know it’s useless to deny what I said but can I explain myself?”

Bucky was close to dropping to his knees. It was so unlike him to be desperate for you, but after what he said before you weren’t sure if the one you fell for was real, so you let him continue.

“Listen- I’m not just using you for sex, okay? I care about you more than you think but I hate how much I love you.”

“Was it casual?”

Words weren’t enough to even begin to piece your heart back together. Not when they’d mauled your very being in the same hour. Your silence and more so lack of reaction to his confession made him go on as he knew he needed to earn your trust and respect again, the only two things he knew he should never lose. And he lost both in the same sentence. Bucky took a breath- grounding himself as he knew he had to grow up and at least try to be truthful with you. He carefully took your hands in his own, giving you space and time to pull away but when you didn’t, he took it as permission to continue.

“It scares me to love you. If you saw yourself the way I see you, it’d terrify you to lose that. The first time you pulled me to your bed I didn’t regret it in the morning but I prayed to god that I’d be able to keep you. I thanked whatever grace let me be the one you let see you like that. When it kept happening I realised that I really did love you and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you I loved you because I doubted that you’d ever feel the same. I didn’t doubt your ability to love, I doubted myself. If I deserved this god sent angel. I still doubt it and I’m sure you don’t want me after what I said to Steve and Sam but I just need to to know that I have loved you, day in and day out even when you felt like no one could love you. And it’s safe to say that I always will, even if you hate me for the rest of our lives. I’ll hate me too, for making you feel this way, because we were never just ..’casual’. ”

Every word that spilled past his lips made your head spin. It made you dizzy because your world was pulling itself back up. Just as you knew, you let yourself fall back into him. Because something told you that this was the real Bucky.

No bullshit, no insecurities, no fear. Just raw, truthful emotion. Suddenly you knew that he understood how you felt.

“I can’t be casual with you Bucky. I can’t look you in the eye and honestly say I’m okay with just sex. You hate the way you love me but I love the way I love you. If you can’t love me the way I do you then- I can’t go on like this.”

It was the most honest with him you’ve ever been. It scared you, and it made you realise exactly why it scared Bucky. Even though he was putting his everything into this and pouring his heart out to you, it still lingered in the back of your mind. The fear of loss, at your own fault. The very real possibility that you could screw up the best thing that ever happened to you.

God, if anyone had an outside voice on this they’d see straight away how truly stupid the pair of you were. Both of you were terrified of the same thing and only one of you was willing to risk it. The other was in love with you and just couldn’t risk it.

How could either of you doubt that it was more than just friendship?

“I’m ready for it now, I know I should’ve been a long fucking time ago but if you’ll let me I want all of you, doll. Every bad hair day and every lazy day and every day where you want to rip my head off for being stupid. But I also want you at your best. If I can’t have you at your worst I don’t deserve you at your best- just let me earn your trust and I promise you doll I’ll make and keep you happy”

When you looked at him, that was your final answer.

You fell into him, allowing yourself to rely completely on his strength to keep you up because you simply couldn’t do it on your own. He made your knees weak and your heart grow in size- almost too big for your chest. Bucky knew at the moment that he had made a start. He’d proved to you that he loved you and now all he had to do was earn your trust and show you how much he really did love you.

Pulling you into his chest, the same way he did when he was afraid to let go in the night, he pressed a kiss to your scalp with whispers of ‘thank you’s and ‘I’m sorry’s. It was like a dream to you. Maybe it balanced between a nightmare and dream, you weren’t sure. You considered reaching down to pinch yourself and see if you woke up. Then Bucky tightened his arms around you and you knew you didn’t need to. He was real. His words were real. The world- your world, was full. The world finally made sense and the future you needed was right in front of you. It was gripping you and kissing your head and whispering its prayers of forgiveness to you. Your future had itself at your knees in promise of goodness and it saw you. He saw you.

Bucky Barnes would never be casual. Not about you. Because he was scared of temporality, just like you.