#But got the problem and stayed up most of the night solving it

[creating-by-starlight]

History of Math has been a hysterical class if only because we get to hear about the beef

[maskedbyghost]

You and Simon aren’t together. Never have been. Never talked about it, never even thought about it.

You just click. You always have. It started as a mission thing—paired up for some op because Price figured you worked well together, and then it just… stuck. You got each other in ways that didn’t need explaining. You liked the same things, moved the same way, anticipated each other’s actions before they happened. You didn’t have to tell him what you needed in the field, and he never had to ask you to cover him. It was easy. Comfortable. The kind of thing that felt natural before you even noticed it happening.

And then it bled into everything else. Eating together. Training together. Sitting next to each other on long flights, in debriefs, in the rare downtime you got between missions. It was never planned, never discussed. Just a thing that happened, like muscle memory. If you were in a room, Simon was there too, and if he wasn’t, he was on his way.

The others noticed, of course. Soap especially. He was the loudest about it, but even Gaz had taken to shooting you both pointed looks when you showed up somewhere at the same time, or when you answered Simon’s half-formed thoughts like you knew what he was going to say before he said it.

Which, honestly, you usually did.

It all comes to a head one evening, the lot of you gathered in one of the common rooms, half-done with the day but not quite ready to call it a night. You and Simon are on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, idly watching something on the TV while Soap, sitting across from you both, groans into his hands.

“You two make me sick.”

You blink at him. “We’re literally just sitting here.”

“That’s the problem!” Soap gestures wildly. “You do everything together. You finish each other’s bloody sentences. You know what the other is thinking. And you’re just—what? Friends?” He scoffs. “Aye, and I’m the Queen of England.”

Simon leans back, tilting his head slightly. “Don’t think you’ve got the legs for a crown, mate.”

Gaz snorts. Price, watching from his spot near the door, only shakes his head like he’s seen this conversation play out a hundred times before. (He has.)

Soap ignores them, pointing a finger between you and Simon like he’s solving some grand mystery. “There’s only one thing you haven’t done,” he declares. “You just need to kiss. That’s it. Only thing missing.”

Silence.

You turn your head. Simon is already looking at you.

There’s nothing in his expression that gives anything away—no smirk, no challenge, no humor in his eyes. He’s just watching you, waiting. And then, with a tiny shrug, he leans in and kisses you.

It’s short, unhurried. Just a press of his lips against yours, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. When he pulls back, his eyes are still on you, searching.

You don’t react. Not outwardly, anyway. You can feel Soap’s disbelief burning into the side of your face, hear the noise he makes—the strangled mix between a gasp and an outraged protest—but you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you look back at Simon, forcing yourself to stay still even as your heart does something stupid in your chest.

Because, sure, maybe this was just to mess with Soap. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it was a joke.

But it didn’t feel like one.

Simon smirks and leans back, turning his attention back to the TV like nothing happened. “Happy now?”

Soap looks like he’s reconsidering every life decision that led him to this moment. “What the fuck?”

—

Later, when Simon walks you back to your room, he’s quieter than usual. His hands are in his pockets, his head tilted down slightly like he’s working through something in his mind.

“I wasn’t trying to make things weird,” he says after a beat. “Didn’t mean—well, didn’t want you to think it was—”

He stops, exhales sharply through his nose. “Just don’t want you to be mad.”

You glance at him. “I’m not mad.”

He nods, but his mouth pulls into something uncertain, like he doesn’t believe you. “Good. That’s—good.”

You reach your door and turn to face him fully. He’s still looking at you, his usual easy confidence nowhere to be found. And it’s funny, really, how the thought of kissing you in front of everyone hadn’t made him hesitate, but now? Now, he’s hesitating. Now, he’s thinking too hard about it. About you.

So before he can say anything else, you push up onto your toes and kiss him.

It’s quick, barely a breath between you before you pull back, but the impact is immediate. Simon’s lips part slightly, his brows drawing together like he can’t quite process what just happened.

You step back, hand on your door handle, and give him a small nod. “Goodnight, Simon.”

Then you slip inside, shutting the door behind you, leaving him standing there in the hallway, staring at the empty space where you just were.

And for once, Simon doesn’t have a single thing to say.

----------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @ghostslollipop @kylies-love-letter

[nanaminokanojo]

MASTERLIST

Sukuna is pissed.

The reason? You moved away from him in your sleep when he wanted to hold you close.

In your own subtle ways, you've always complained about how unaffectionate he is. You didn't explicitly say it, but he did notice how your mood would shift, your pretty little smiles barely masking your disappointment when he would do or say anything remotely cold or mean. And now that he was giving you what you wanted, you just roll away from him, depriving him of your warmth and the affection he expects you to reward him.

How you even managed to escape four of his arms to find your own corner of the bed was a big puzzle to him. You've always slept peacefully pressed to his side on most nights, and you didn't really move much once he had two of his arms wrapped around your frail form. Perhaps you were doing it on purpose after he had evidently upset you during supper by dismissing you when you asked about his day. There was nothing to tell, and though he understands that your concerns came from a good place, he still refused to tell you of the horrors of the world he found himself so deeply embroiled in.

Sukuna, however, brushed off the idea. You wouldn't dare. Or would you? He was just protecting you. Why would you hold that against him?

He chose not to entertain the thought, thinking it was just you moving in your sleep. And so, he reached for you, gently placing his arms over and underneath you to pull you closer. But it hadn't even been a minute of him holding you when you started letting out these seemingly irritated noises and shortly after, you were turning your back on him.

"What –" He stopped himself when you breathed in deeply, half expecting to hear sobs if you were truly upset with him, but then, your breathing rhythm returned to normal. You were still fast asleep.

Sukuna shrugged, already feeling his temper rising at the thought that you could sleep just fine without him. The thought of it annoyed him, and that was an understatement. He decided to move closer to you then, but as soon as he did, pressing your back on his bare chest, you started squirming, a dissatisfied groan leaving your lips.

At that, he rose slightly on his elbow, taking offense. "Woman, what is your problem?" he demanded, making you lie down flat on your back, startling you. "Is something ailing you?" This time, he spoke gently, watching as you slowly blinked up at his frowning face like you haven't got a clue what he's talking about. And then you closed your eyes before favoring your left side, going back to sleep.

"You –"

"What?" you whined without facing him, annoyed that your sleep was being disturbed.

Sukuna scoffed. You've really done it this time. Nobody dared speak to him that way. "What now? You don't want me anymore? I thought you wanted –"

In one swift movement, he found himself being tackled onto the bed as you turned around and threw yourself against him, immediately finding your spot in the crook of his neck. His two left arms instinctively wrapped around you, keeping you cradled in them as you snuggled closer, planting a kiss under his collarbone as if to appease him before you were falling back asleep.

"You could have just stayed like this –"

"Shh."

Did you just shush him? And as if to punctuate it, you raised your hand, your fingers blindly yet tenderly brushing his lips and staying there.

"Wife, you are aware I have two mouths, aren't you?" he spoke against your fingers, fighting a smile.

You moved your head back to smirk at him as you threw a leg over his abdomen right where his other mouth was, your thigh preventing it from saying anything.

"There. Problem solved."

[itzpookiepooh]

Dump Him!

You ask them for relationship advice

“I need advice.” You huff falling onto the couch where Caleb sat. Your head was in his lap as you pout, he looks down at you in confusion. He adjusts his position taking his ankle off his knee.

“Shoot pipsqueak I’m all ears.” He assures you making you take a deep breath. This was like a mini therapy session you guys had every once in a while. Too often for you not often enough for him.

“So he’s always running to help his best friend and I mean running. She called him to stay at her house because she’s going through a break up.” You explained as Caleb nodded slowly. He didn’t see the big deal because he always comes running when you call.

“I mean that is his best friend and think of us—“ You cut him off before he could say anything stupid. “The best friend is a girl and he spends the night. No matter what we’re going through he runs to her.”

“You should kill him.” He states bluntly before unpausing his show as if he solved your problem entirely.

“Caleb!”

You just got done arguing with your boyfriend again. Rafayel just watched with a bored expression, he was use to the bickering. He just wished you would dump him already. He watched you pace as you screamed at him which was out of character for you, in his mind at least. You hung up slamming your phone on the counter.

“Ugh! He’s insufferable. What should I do?” You ask more out loud but Rafayel was going to answer anyway.

“What did he do this time?” He asked taking about bite out of a grape from the bowl. You pout putting your chin on your fist. You know Rafayel and you also know he loathes your boyfriend.

“Ditched our date tonight for his friends.” You sigh, Rafayel on the other hand glares at you. He then got an idea.

“You should invite him out here to make up. It’s beautiful and quiet.” Rafayel counts on his fingers before your face fell flat.

“I’m not bringing him out here for you to kill him.” You deadpan making him drop his act and shrug.

“Worth a shot.” He throws a grape into his mouth.

Your leg bounced as you stared at your phone waiting for a text back. Sylus looks over his glasses to watch your leg bounce. You were shaking the couch with these nerves of yours. He couldn’t focus on a single word with all this bouncing. He knew you were arguing with that no good boyfriend of yours. He grabbed your leg without looking away from his book. Your gaze snaps over to him.

“Sorry.” You mumble, Sylus closes the book with a sigh, “What is it now?”

“He’s jealous because I spend a lot of time with you. Which is bullshit by the way! He spends a lot of time with his friends too!” You ramble as you wave your arms around. Sylus just watches you as you express yourself.

“What should I do?” You groan leaning into him. Sylus hums before rubbing your arm.

“We could give him something to be jealous about.” Sylus suggests, his smirk widening as he looks at you.

“You’re never serious.” You deadpan making him chuckle.

“Worth a shot.”

You get in Zayne’s car in a hurry accidentally slamming the door. You were so irritated that the night felt ruined because your boyfriend wanted to argue. He hated whenever Zayne was around but you make sure to remind him this is your childhood friend. His jealousy was ugly and Zayne would tell you constantly. The boy thought you were sleeping together for goodness sake! Not that you would mind. You explained all this to Zayne knowing he’d probably say what he usually does. You were just waiting for it.

“Maybe I can fix him…fix us y’know?” You fall back into the seat as Zayne stops at a red light. He looks over at you with the most serious face ever.

“Did he defecate on himself?” He asks seriously, you blink at him as if he was confused.

“No?” You question more than answer. Zayne hums as he nods his head slowly, “then why would you change him?”

You narrow your eyes at him. He’s as sassy as ever but he was right.

Your boyfriend and you had a huge fight. It was so big that you left and went to Xavier’s who could hear it from his apartment. You apologized for the noise which he didn’t care about. Your wellbeing was what mattered most to him after all. He made you tea and waited to hear what the arguing was about. You explained he accused you of cheating on him which wasn’t true. Xavier knew this since you guys spent so much time together.

“What should I do?” You sigh sadly. Xavier blinked slowly as he gave you a once over.

“Leave him.” He bluntly said. No hesitation, no pauses, nothing.

“Xavier I can’t.” You groan falling into the couch as he takes the cup from you. He places it on the coffee table and then turns his attention back to you.

“Why not? He’s not a good person and has zero redeeming qualities. He chews with his mouth open, he burps obnoxiously loud—” He lists and if you hadn’t stopped him he would go on and on all night. You put your hand over his mouth and nod as you look at the ceiling.

“You’re absolutely right.” Leaving the conversation at that.

“Want me to kill him?” He mumbles looking at you. You swiftly turn your head to look at him with genuine concern. Maybe you heard him wrong.

“What?”

“What?” He repeats now looking at you confused.

I couldn’t wait to get to Zayne’s but imo his Caleb’s and Rafayel’s are the funniest 😭 I also forgot what I was gonna write mid Caleb’s because I left my mind palace (the shower).

Have this while I concoct Sylus’ bday special 💋

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug like angel

Unhappy Birthday

pt 4.5 (again)

filler (again)

Growing up, you never really celebrated your birthday.

You grew up with people who had either completely forgotten you or were trying to forget you.

You never even realized people celebrated them until one day when you were younger, Dick brought his friends over to celebrate his birthday.

Since then you've tried celebrating your birthday.

You tried to have a tea party with paper invitations you made only for them to be crumpled up and thrown into the trash.

Over time, you had gotten used to not celebrating them, only getting a couple of "happy birthday" from friends.

You didn't need gifts either, you technically had all the money in the world to buy whatever, whenever.

You never even got to blow out a candle on a single cupcake.

So it wasn't surprising that you'd forget your birthday sometimes.

You never really celebrated your birthday.

You were sad about it growing up, but you soon realized you didn't want to celebrate with them anyway.

It was pretty late in the morning.

You were dead asleep on your bed at the manor.

It was a weekend and you were taking advantage of how you could sleep in bed all you wanted. You had just gotten back from patrol and school.

Little did you know, all your friends had been up all day and night making you a little special something.

"She won't like it like that- cmon just hand me it-!" Miles argued while pulling on the tablecloth that was party-themed

"Oh cmon, everyone knows she would want f/c themed party!" Pavitr argued back while placing the tablecloth of your favorite color onto the table

"Boys, stop fighting! At this point, if you guys keep acting like this Y/N won't have a party on time!" Rio yelled from in the kitchen.

"Sorry ma! Just give us a second, we will figure it out!" Miles said back while pulling on the tablecloth

"Yes, just a moment Ms.Morales!" Pavitr called, while pulling on the tablecloth as well. It looked like a game of tug of war.

Then they ripped the cheap tablecloth.

It ripped right in the middle.

Pav and miles stopped right then and there.

"..Fuck." Miles stared right at the rip.

"Shhiittt." Pavitr said while pulling on his hair, a bit dramatically.

"Pav, we can figure something out," Miles said while taking Pav's hands off his hair.

While Miles and Pav were coming up with ideas, Hobie was busy putting up the 'happy birthday' banner on the wall.

The only thing that was messing it up was that one side couldn't stay up.

If the left side stayed up, the right side would fall.If the right side stayed up, the left side would fall.

Once he finally got it right, it all fell.

In the kitchen, Gwen and Peni were working on your cake.

Peni is a pretty good cake decorator, and you taught Gwen how to bake pretty well.

The cake was gonna be great!

...The only thing is since the kitchen was sort of crowded and people kept bumping into them, the cake came out looking a little dumb.

It was lopsided and the handwriting was crooked. You could make out the words, but it was messy.

While Peni and Gwen were figuring out ways to fix it, Peter B was fixing out the gift table.

It would be pretty easy if Maydays the new literal sticky hands could stop sticking to the tissue paper in one of the gifts.

Somehow, for the next few hours, there was tissue paper all over the floor.

The most calm and collected ones had to be Rio and Jess. The food they were making smelled delicious and took over the house.

The only issue? They were the ones also solving the problems with the kids.

Every two minutes they had to stop and scold one of the kids to stop doing something bad.

Jeff was making sure you didn't get here early, and that no one he didn't approve of (your family) came in.

Noir and Ham were trying to fit your comically large gift into the room, which was very difficult since it was stupidly big.

While this was all happening, you were sleeping on your bed. Suddenly you woke up when you got a text from Miguel.

Spider-dad: Get ready.

You: wyat

ehat*

whay*

what*

Wgywhu*

why*

Spider-dad: Hurry.

You:??ok

Well, that made no sense.

You got ready for the day, decided to skip breakfast since you didn't wanna see your family, and put on your shoes.

You realized you felt like you were forgetting something.

Have you forgotten a friend's birthday?

No, you had all of their birthdays on a calendar and memorized them too.

Maybe it was an assignment you forgot to turn in?

Yeah, it was probably that.

You ran to your bathroom to brush your teeth, and you felt that familiar feeling.

Miguel was here!

"I'm coming, just wait a minute!" You yelled from the bathroom, still brushing your teeth.

You ran out and dabbed him up as soon as you saw him.

You started dabbing people up out habit after you saw Miles and Pavitr do it.

"So, where are we headed?" You asked while grabbing your wallet.

"We are going out to eat," Miguel said while standing awkwardly stiff like usual.

"Oh, where?" you asked, tilting your head

"that's classified." he turned his back towards you dramatically and you tried not to laugh.

"well can I at least get a piggyback ride on the way?" you asked, jokingly. You thought there was no way he was gonna do it.

He squatted down. "get on." he grumbled.

You immediately hopped on before he could change his mind.

You guys swung around for a while, it was honestly surprising how no one saw you.

You took a tiny nap while he swung. You woke up to you guys both being in front of your favorite breakfast place.

You remembered how you had once begged Dick to take you. he promised you he would take you.

Only to cancel last minute, when you were ready to go.

Turns out he had also promised Damian that he would help him train.

It wasn't the first or last time this would happen.

You shivered the thought away. You didn't want to remember that, not right now at least.

You got off Miguel's back and walked in.

You guys got seated at a booth and you immediately ordered a milkshake.

You ended up drinking at least 3 by the time you were done with breakfast.

You also ordered your favorite breakfast foods, and Miguel ordered huevos con chorizo.

You guys talked about anything and everything for a while until the topic of your friends came up.

It was then you realized you hadn't gotten a single text from any of your friends all day.

Huh. Weird.

Usually, the group chat went crazy immediately in the morning.

You decided to just ignore it, they were probably all busy.

You still had that weird feeling you were forgetting something.

After breakfast, you and Miguel started walking around a shopping mall.

You didn't really wanna shop, you could buy anything you wanted with your monthly allowance, and that made everything boring.

So you both just walked around. You didn't wanna shop.

That was until you came across a build-a-bear workshop.

As soon as you guys walked by it, you stopped dead in your tracks and you stared at a bear.

One that was in your favorite color and holding a cute little guitar.

It was literally you.

You needed it so bad.

You dragged Miguel inside with you and you both got matching bears. you forced him to get one.

Funnily enough, your bears kind of looked like your costumes.

By the end of your bear shopping and walking around, it was evening.

Miguel told you to hop on his shoulders and close your eyes.

You listened and you felt like you were moving universes again.

Miguel dropped you off his shoulders.

"Open your eyes," Miguel said, stretching his back.

You listened and you felt a faint hum going off in the back of your head.

You both started walking towards a dark room in the society, one that was empty and usually just used for small meetups between friend groups.

You jumped as the lights turned on and you heard a "surprise" coming from all your family and friends.

You looked around in surprise.

The cake was crooked and you could barley make the writing.

The banner on the wall was slanted and held on by piles of web fluid.

The tablecloth was a mix of 2 tablecloths taped together half and half.

"..So thats what I was forgetting!" You looked like a lightbulb just went off in your head.

"What were you forgetting?" asked Peni as she passed you one of the balloons that said 'Happy birthday' on it

"My birthday! I forgot it was today!" you laughed to yourself a bit.

You and the others started celebrating. You've never had a party before!

Even if the party was a mess, you knew it came from a lot of people who cared about you.

When they took out the cake for you, you started crying a little out of happiness.

A couple of people checked up on you before you admitted it was out of happiness.

You opened your gifts.

Most of them were crafts, and the ones that weren't were things you were interested in that you didn't have in your universe and your friends had in theirs.

You ended the party smiling while passed out asleep next to your friends who were equally as exhausted.

You didn't notice Peter B. taking pictures of you guys.You didn't notice until the next time you came over to Miguel's apartment and saw the picture hung up on the wall.

why am. i writing fluff

im half aselep im so tired but heres this

i might write a valentines chapter in a bit but its prolly gonna be late isigh

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!):@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert

edit: I LITERALLY FORGOT TO ADD HASHTAGS OOF

[sexy-monster-fucker]

I Only Want Sympathy in the Form of You Crawling Into Bed with Me

Dr. Gregory House x Doctor!Reader

Summary: Reader gets all dolled up for a night out on the town with a new date. Until he blows her off last minute. Now, all dressed up and no where to go, House invites her out for drinks with he and Wilson.

CW: implied age gap (not much tho), kinda mutual pining, drinking, drunk!Wilson, bathroom hookup, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, some spanking, creampie

a/n: my titles are getting as long as fall out boy titles lmao (ironic since this title is from one of their songs)

title track 🎶🥃

~~~

“I HATE MEN,” you shouted into the phone as your heels clicked against the cold pavement. Soft chill of the night breeze making its way up your dress, freshly shaven legs more sensitive to the cold. Coat draped over your shoulders.

“No, you hate boys,” Lisa Cuddy said with a smirk on the other side of the line, “A real man wouldn’t blow you off ten minutes before a date.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off her logic, wanting to be angry. Taking the turn before facing the hospital. Where you spent your days and some nights. Most people would want to stay away from work, but it was a comfort for you. When nothing else made sense, work did.

“You didn’t even like the guy—“

“THAT MAKES IT WORSE!” a defeated laugh escaped you. Hearing Cuddy snicker at how distraught you were. She knew how you got when things did not go according to plan. Entertained by the way your voice jumped an octave with each sentence.

“Well, I’m sure you look hot. Go out and find a new guy. Just blow some steam off or something,” she encouraged.

You sighed. Stopping directly in the glow of the neon sign. Staring in through the glass doors where people inside never sleep. Always a new problem to solve, always new people to treat. You liked it that way.

“Thank you, Lis,” you smiled. Refusing to admit to her that you would simply waste the night away looking through case files. Better for her to believe you were getting drunk and taking guys home. Clicking your phone off when Cuddy excused herself as someone came into her office.

Smell of sanitizer and medical equipment greeted you. Familiar. Comforting in a way. Making a pit stop by the cafeteria before heading up to your office. Since your dinner plans had been canceled and all. Options limited due to the hours in which you were here. Grabbing some leftover fruits and a pre-wrapped sandwich.

Trying your hardest to ignore the way everyone’s eyes widened when they saw you. Not usually being one to be all dressed up, so the sight of your dress had people in a judgmental frenzy. Eyes narrowing in on you as you passed familiar faces. Barely skirting past Wilson’s office. Throwing an off handed wave at he and House as you hurried to your own office.

“Was that Y/L/N?” Wilson’s brows furrowed.

“I believe so,” House said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “In a dress… Above the knee.” Big blue eyes looked back to Wilson. Intrigue across his brow.

“She went home at five,” Wilson redirected his attention onto the papers in front of him, “At least she was supposed to.”

House hummed in response. Quickly rising and heading to your office.

You did not even bother clicking on the overhead light. Opting for the soft orange of your lamp. Laying out all the food you had grabbed. Grabbing a green apple first. Barely having sunk your teeth in when your door swung open. Startling you slightly. House stood in the doorway, hand wrapped around his cane and the other leaned against your doorframe. Studying you across the room. Drinking in what little of you he could see. The way your breasts peaked from the low cut collar. How different your hair looked down. And the fact you had a full face of makeup on. Looking ethereal as you basked in the soft glow.

“Aren’t these things supposed to keep people like you away?” you said, tossing the apple into the air and catching it.

“People like… me?” House’s grip on his cane tightened at your insinuation.

“Doctors,” you said simply.

House’s head fell at the realization. Tongue wetting his lip as he chuckled. Brows bouncing before knitting together as he caught your eyes again. “You know,” he entered, closing the door behind him, “You’re one of those too?”

“Not tonight. Tonight, I’m a girl who just got stood up by her date… ten minutes before the date was supposed to start. And now, I have nothing else to do. So here I am. One wasted evening and a shot of vodka later,” you smiled. Hiding the way your shoulders wanted to sag and face droop.

“Thought you were taking a low blow there,” House said as he sat in the chair across from you, motioning towards his bad leg. Feet propping themselves up on the wooden desk. Eliciting a dirty look from you.

“Yeah because I do that so much,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well, you have been spending a lot of time with Cuddy,” House smirked. Jabbing at you. Trying to in his own way to get you in a better mood. Unsure why he cared. Happy he did.

“You could always come with me and Wilson,” House suggested nonchalantly.

“If this is your way of asking me to be your third—“

He laughed. Head thrown back slightly and eyes shut. Pushing his lips together as he looked back at you, “You know Wilson gets jealous when the third is prettier than him.”

You rolled your eyes, returning his look with blushing cheeks. Believing this to be another attempt at making you smile. Hoping, deep down, he meant it. Maybe he did think you were pretty.

You smiled at him. Pulling the same expression across his face. Not acknowledging what he had just said. Sitting forward to get him to continue. Proving your interest.

“We’re going out for drinks,” House sat up, “You should come. Hell, we may even get you laid.”

You scoffed at that. Widening your eyes at him. Seeing his cocky grin curve at the corner of his mouth. Loving how your cheeks glowed.

“Especially with you looking like that,” House’s eyes rested on the exposed bit of cleavage showing from your dress. He stood, bouncing his eyebrows at you with a grin. Liking the way you scrambled to cover your chest. Chuckling to himself as he began out of the room.

“You’re a real charmer, House,” you joked, unable to hide the laugh that had creeped into your throat.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” House said rather loudly as he exited.

You exhaled with a smile. Looking down at yourself. Confidence boosted from House’s remarks. There was no question that you would go with them. Opting for a night of fun rather than one alone.

Casualty of the pet name had butterflies flapping around your guts. Hating that Dr. Greg House, of all people, had this kind of hold on you. Allowing yourself to develop some deeper feelings for him. Unable to forgive yourself for that.

Abandoning your makeshift dinner, walking over to Wilson’s office. Making sure your hair looked good, dress was patted down, and heels adjusted. Leaning against his doorframe the same way House had done yours. Catching both their attention.

“Wow,” Wilson said, stiffening his back.

“Keep your pants on. I’m crashing your date tonight,” you smiled, walking over and taking the seat beside house. Propping your legs up on his lap so that your dress hiked up a little. Exposing mid-thigh. More skin than either of them had ever seen on you.

House’s eyes cascaded up your body. Taking in the sight of your legs over his own, pretending his dick did not jump at the contact. Eyes meeting the bit of parted dress he could see up, not enough to reveal anything but still a tease. Ending with hooded ones looking into yours. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. One hand flattening against your leg, gently stroking the soft skin.

House looked over at Wilson in a silent brag.

“I thought you had a date tonight,” Wilson questioned, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.

“I did,” you gritted your teeth, “No show at the last minute. It’ll be more fun to run around and see you drunk anyway.”

“Did you tell everyone about the date, but me?” House widened his eyes at you, faking being offended. Earning a shrug from you in response.

“Well, nonetheless, I’m happy you’re coming with us,” Wilson rose from his desk. Removing his lab coat, replacing it with his actual coat. Yourself and House following along with his movements. Deciding to all ride together since you had walked anyway. Not like you lived a crazy distance away, but really you had kinda blacked out and began walking to work when you got left high and dry.

The Bar was expectedly crowded. Bodies pressed tightly together along the dance floor. People piled together in each booth. Stench of beer burning your nostrils. A few stools remained at a corner table. A good walk from the bar itself. Perfectly spaced so all three of you could face one another around the round table. Taking the chair closer to House, back to the wall.

“I’ll go grab us something,” Wilson said, hurrying off before you could even hint at what you wanted. Chuckling softly at how eager he was to get some liquor in his system.

“He doesn’t even know what I like,” you sighed, eyeing House beside you.

“Wilson’s got a way of knowing what everyone will like. Some nonsense about being able to ‘read people’,” House said, fidgeting with the napkin holder at the center.

You silently nodded. Watching Wilson across the room, redirecting your attention to House, “So. Tell me, what drink does go well with Vicodin?”

House’s eyes bounced up to read your expression. Noting the smug smirk across your lips, hooded eyes looking at his. “Ooo. Cold,” House chided with a slight grin. Brows pushing together when he straightened his back. Lips puckering as he blew out a breath, “Cuddy teach you that one?”

“Anyone with eyes would know,” you jokingly mocked. Leaning forward to close the gap between you both. Learning the details of his scruff, all the stress and worry lines beautifully decorating his forehead, and how blue his eyes really were. Cheeks suddenly heating up when his eyes met yours so strongly. Pupils dilating as he analyzed your figure.

Being interrupted abruptly by Wilson sliding shots to both of you. You side eyed House, reading right through his bullshit about Wilson ‘knowing’ what people would like. His brows bounced when you eyed him, smirking at your annoyed glance.

“What is this?”

“Just drink!”

You smiled as you clinked your tiny glass with the other two doctors. Throwing back the stout liquor. Burning down your throat. Nostrils suddenly tingling from the potency. Sucking your teeth as you tried to hide a cough. Blinking away the burn when you saw Wilson throw back a second shot.

He was not playing around tonight.

Giggling to yourself at how his cheeks immediately flushed. Continuing to drink as some time passed. Wilson having an obvious affiliation for shots. Losing count as he continued back and forth to the bar. You had ordered yourself a cocktail that you had been nursing for the last bit. House with his whiskey. The two of you trying to hide your shocked and disgusted faces as you watched Wilson’s body wriggle on the dance floor. Your lip arched in pure amazement at the way the oncologist moved to the music. Catching the attention of all the younger women in the bar.

You looked to House, unable to hide your laughter at his expression. Horrified by the way his best friend behaved when drunk. The beat of a song from even before your time sputtered from the speakers laced around the bar. Wilson somehow having a preplanned dance number to it. House tucked his face into his hand in astonishment. Hiding himself from the embarrassment.

Accidentally allowing a snort to escape from how hard you were laughing. Cupping both hands against your mouth as you wide-eyed House. Seeing the gears turning behind his eyes as he planned a cruel joke to make at your expense.

Stopping himself when he saw the twinkle in your eyes. Cheeks glowing as you tried to hide your toothy grin behind your hands. The way your leg grazed against his under the table. How casually you held onto his arm as you both watched your coworker make his moves on the dance floor. Head falling on his shoulder when you would laugh. Tucking your face into him to try and hide it.

He hated how easily you had nestled yourself into his mind.

“Don’t you want to go join him?”

“Hell no,” House laughed, “Cane’s just gonna get in the way.” Spinning the wood at his side.

Apparently you were a giggler when alcohol entered your system. Everything would illicit some form of laughter from you. Smile permanently ripped across your face. Eyes softly hooded from the dark room.

“I’d like to see you out there with him though,” House snickered, taking a quick sip of his drink. Openly flirting with you in a way he never had before. Catching you off guard.

“I’m sure you would,” you laughed, shoving him gently.

“Wilson would too. Probably be happy to take you home with him,” House admitted, tinge of jealousy spitting from his tongue. Vein on his forehead throbbing as his eyes fixated on the ice cube in his glass.

Your nose scrunched up as you looked at your coworker, “Nah.”

“Nah?” House repeated the exact way you said it. Brows contorting in confusion.

“Wilson’s not… not my type,” you admitted, taking a swig of your mixed drink. Leaning closer to House as you finished the liquor. Scooting your chair so that you were face to face with him. House matched your posture. If the music at the bar was not so loud, you could have been whispering.

“You have a type?”

“I do,” your head fell to the side with a smile.

“Ah. The lady who can have anything— is picky,” House spaced out his last words. Cocking a brow at you when you giggled to yourself.

Shaking your head in disagreement, “Not picky. Just have someone else in mind.”

“The boy who blew you off tonight?”

You paused. Having already forgot about your absent suitor. Blinking with furrowed brows. “No,” you said plainly. Eyes now staring at one of the television screens across the bar. Airing some rerun of a soccer game. Seeing the way House’s eyes raked your body from your peripheral. Waiting for more than what you were giving him.

“Miss Mystery—“

“That’s Doctor Mystery, thank you,” you corrected in a playful tone. Raising your eyebrows as you glanced back over to him. He liked that you were not the type to throw it all on the table. Keeping some form of secret from him made him want to dissect you. Understand what makes you tick. Solve the puzzle.

“I know him, don’t I?” House began, wanting to break the truth free.

“Don’t—“

“We have to work with him. When else would you have time to figure out you like someone,” he rubbed his chin as he racked through his memory of everyone you worked with.

“I’m not going to tell you,” you chuckled at his grade school antics. Widening your eyes at him with a smile you could not rid yourself of. He was so handsome. Eyes stuck to you. Loving the attention he was giving you.

“Is it— NO. It can’t be,” House began.

Your heart sank into your stomach. Breath hitching in your throat at the possibility of him figuring you out. Not like you were exactly hiding it from him. In your mind, you basically had been throwing yourself at him.

“You’re into Cuddy?” House’s jaw hung open, clearly he was messing with you.

You exhaled hard. Pulse erratic. Pinching the bridge between your nose as you collapsed onto the table in front of you. Body shaking with laughter. Embarrassment clear by the way your cheeks heated up. “I didn’t know you swung that way,” House continued.

“Jesus Christ, Greg,” you breathed out, teeth shining with a smile.

“Greg? When did we get on a first name basis?” he chuckled, leaning down so that his lips were close to your ear. Heat from his breath tickling your skin. Using every tool in his box to get you a shriveling and babbling mess of embarrassment before him. Goosebumps cascading across your limbs. His hand splayed across your thigh as he leaned into you, smile matching the one you were sporting.

“Since you started prying into my personal life,” you looked up at him, not moving your head from its rested position. You loved seeing him smile so widely. Teeth on display and cheeks bulbing. You wanted to kiss him so bad.

And you would have. If he had not rose suddenly, “I’ll be back, Y/N. I’ve gotta take a piss.” House blatantly said. Walking into the single stall bathroom the bar had to offer. The way he had held his eyes in yours as he said your name made your guts tingle. Trying to understand what had just happened. Flustered and confused.

Making your most rash decision of the night. Following after him. Breath escaping your lungs as you held your fist up to the old door. Meekly, you knocked. Earning a ‘one second’ from House.

“It’s me,” you said.

A pause before the door creaked open. House had a curious expression written along his brow, eyes scaling you before him. “Just because I’m cripple, doesn’t mean I need you to hold it for me,” House smiled cockily.

Giving him an aggressive eye roll. Arms folded over your chest as you stamped your foot down. Shoe sticking to the residue across the floor. Doeing your eyes at him through the crack in the door. Placing your hand on the door so he could not close it.

Curiosity was one of his vices. And your silence was strange. He had to find out why you came knocking. Allowing you to step inside with him, backing himself into the small room.

“If you wanted to see my cock that—“

Your lips were on his. Shutting him up as you pressed his body against the wall. Hands flattening along his stomach, tongue slipping past his lips. Tasting the liquor on him. Making him taste even better than you had imagined. His free hand gripped the back of your head. Keeping his lips firmly to yours, tasting you. Enamored by the way your lips perfectly captured one another. Not taking the time to pull away before you were palming at his groin. Needing him worse than you had ever imagined. Receiving airy grunts and groans in between your lips. Conjuring slick between your legs.

Falling to your knees and you undid his belt, hastily pulling his cock out of his jeans. Member already swollen and hard, tip leaking slowly. Kitten licking at the head, causing House to lean further into the wall. Voice trembling as a satisfied groan escaped him. Stroking him with one of your hands, the other pushing your escaped hairs out of your face. Making sure you could look up at him as you went down. Taking just the tip into your mouth, tongue flat under the head. Curling and massaging the sensitive spot underneath.

House’s throat tightened as his hand braced itself against your scalp. Moaning when your nose met the base of his cock. Brushing against the soft, curly hair that peaked out. Sloppily bobbing your head up and down on him. Salty taste of precum overwhelming your mouth. Smiling when he bumped the back of your throat. Eyes locking into his. Blue orbs awestruck by the sight of you on your knees before him.

“Fuck,” he breathlessly whispered. His hand gripped your hair, using it as a handle so he could fuck into your mouth. Barely rolling his hips to meet your lips. Lost in the way your warm mouth perfectly sucked him in. Knowing if you continued he would be cumming soon.

Loosing your breath and having to pull off for a moment. Replacing your mouth with a hand. Curling around the spit covered member, continuing the same rhythm you had previously had. Heaving as you looked up at him. Lust filled eyes explaining yourself. Giving away any secret you had been hiding before.

“Guess I was wrong about the— ugh— Cuddy thing?” House snarked, mischievously looking at you. You nodded, putting just the tip into your mouth as your hand continued to pump him. Sucking the sensitive head, swirling your tongue around it. Collecting his sticky pre along your tongue with each swipe. His head fell back against the wall once more, jaw hung harshly open as he groaned.

“Yes, Y/N. Just like that,” House mumbled as you took him back into your mouth entirely. Losing himself to pleasure when your teeth would graze his length for a moment. Salty taste overtaking your mouth.

House’s hand urged you off. Sucking off with a soft pop of his cock. Fluttering your lashes up at him in confusion. Wondering if you had done something wrong. “Get up,” he groaned.

Obeying and standing to your feet before him. Burning of your knees overshadowed by how wet you were. Meeting his hooded eyes as you pressed a kiss to his lips. Hand cupping your cheek, snaking around to lace into the hair at the nape of your neck.

“Bend over the sink,” House breathed between kisses.

“You don’t owe me—“

“I want to fuck you,” House’s eyes narrowed. That shot electricity through you. Expecting him to be the type to take whatever he was given. Let you suck him off then return to the table like nothing happened. But this was much better.

You took your place at the sink. Hands grasping the quartz countertop, meeting your own eyes in the mirror. Looking like you had just been face fucked. Liking what you saw. Especially when House’s figure came into frame. The click of his cane echoed against the silent room. Large hands pushed your dress up your back revealing the lacy thong you had wore.

House chuckled to himself at the sight.

“Guess you planned on getting laid tonight?”

“No,” you admitted, “It just makes me feel sexy.”

“It looks sexy,” House’s eyes widened with a smirk. Grabbing a handful of your ass before smacking it. Earning a quick squeak from you. Sneering at him in the mirror which only made him smile wider. His finger looped around the thin fabric band, tugging it down. You spread your legs allowing them to fall down, stepping one foot out.

The air fanned over your slick folds. Sending chills down your body. House held himself by the base, slapping his cock against your entrance a few times. Breath shuttering as he felt how warm and wet you were for him. Blunt tip swirling around your folds, prodding at your entrance.

Finally, he thrusted slowly forward. Cock sinking inside your warmth. His brows furrowed as he watched his member disappear. Lips parted and tongue pressing into his lower one. House groaned when his hips met the swell of your ass. Holding steady as his head fell back in pleasure. Fingers digging little crescents into the flesh of your hip.

You moaned when he pulled back. Mouth hung open, desperate eyes catching his in the mirror. The corner of his mouth instinctively curved with a grin that showcased his teeth. Fleeting as he refocused on the feeling of you wrapped around him. Rolling his hips and finding a rhythm that had you both gasping for air.

“Greg,” you moaned when the curve of his cock prodded at a sensitive spot inside you.

“Where the hell has this been all my life?” he halfheartedly laughed, his mind going blank from how good it felt. Air struggling to regulate inside his lungs. Losing himself to pleasure. Almost forgetting about the sharp pain in his thigh for a moment.

The squelching sound of his repeated pistoning hips filled the space. Drowned out to any outside listeners by the bar’s loud speakers. His cock perfectly filled you. Stretching your walls with every rock of hips. One of your hands reached down to rub tight circles on your clit.

House could not remember the last time he had properly fucked someone. Let alone felt this much satisfaction from another. His entire body was warm. Heartbeat pounding against his eardrums. Veins flowing with pure desire for you.

“Y/N,” he said with a particularly low and sultry voice.

You could feel the coil inside you tightening. Knowing if he continued this way you would be cumming around him shortly. And it felt good. You could swear you had never had sex so good. Never expecting to be here with House.

“That stupid prick has no idea what he missed out on. You know that? Anyone would be lucky to fuck you,” House mindlessly praised. His balls tightening when your walls fluttered for a moment. Preparing for your orgasm to wash over you.

You panted and squirmed on his cock. His words settling perfectly in your core. White hot overwhelmed your body as you lost your grip for a moment. Falling forward as you came unraveled around him. House pressed firmly into you. Loving the feeling of you gripping down on his sensitive length. Barely rutting to fuck you through your high. His name a mixture of moans and babbling from your mouth. Back arched harshly as you came down.

House picked up his speed again. You cried out with each stretch. Louder than you intended, but not caring. The twitch of his cock told you he was close behind. Meeting each of his movements with your own. Coaxing him to his end. Cumming inside you in spurts of hot, sticky ropes. Coating your walls with his seed. Breathy, broken groans fell from his heaving chest.

Both of you tried to catch your breath. Your arms folded over in front of you as you rested your head on them. Sweat sticking to every inch of skin. House’s hand snaked around your front, urging you to stand at your full height once more. You made sure to pull your underwear back up and fix your dress before turning to face him. Small of your back meeting the countertop.

Your faces were flushed. Both of you smiling like lovesick idiots. House tucked himself back into his pants before stepping closer to you. His hand cupping your cheek to kiss you once more. Smiling as you connected lips. Giggling when he pulled away. Resting his forehead to yours, eyes latching onto yours.

“Kinda whorish to let your friend fuck you in the bathroom at some bar, don’t you think?” House snickered, pushing his lips to yours again.

You laughed, nudging him with your palm as you rolled your eyes. There was the House you knew. Arms lacing around his neck as he let his weight fall into you. One hand tightly holding onto your hip. Lips falling against the space between your neck and ear.

“You’re one to talk,” you snickered, “I think cumming in your friend is far more whorish.”

House pulled back to meet your eye, “Fair.”

He kissed you again. Memory of his praising words still fresh in your mind. Wondering if this would become something more. Or if you were overthinking things as you usually did.

“Wilson is probably wondering where we both ran off to,” you said, one of your hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

House growled, “Probably hasn’t noticed.”

His big blue eyes stared into you. Wide like he was trying to engrave every memory of you this close to him. Tangled in his arms. Freshly glowing from sensual satisfaction. Cheeks still warm and smile still wide.

You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, “You’re cute.”

House rolled his eyes with a scoff. Looking back and smiling at you. Your compliment making his heart pound harder. Accepting his defeat and pulling away from you. Reaching back to take your hand in his and guide you out of the shared bathroom. Harsh blaring of speakers meeting your ears as he led you back to the table. Wilson had snuggled up with some girls on the dance floor.

House gestured towards him, “Told you.”

You laughed. Shrugging in defeat.

House gave you a closed mouth smile before looking back at Wilson. Both of you watching him sexually grab on a stranger who you knew he would not remember by morning. Rocking hips and whispering into her ear.

“You know,” House turned his head to meet your gaze again, “We could always go fool around in Wilson’s car.”

You snorted, hand coming up to cover your mouth. Eyes wide with shock from the suggestion. Two pinched fingers dangled his keys in front of you. Jingling them with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Oh. Naughty boy,” you teased with a click of your tongue.

House shrugged, “It’s who I am.”

~~~

[END]

// Thank you for reading! I have had this one in the works since before I finished my first House multi-part fic, so it’s been a long time coming. I just love writing for House bc he’s such an ass. As always, my inbox is always open for requests! Reblogs and Comments are appreciated! //

{tags}

@megangovier ~ @person-005 ~ @houseslollipop ~ @bitchy-bi-trash ~ @iwmflbb ~

[gotaksboyfie]

Hi I!! I just wanted to say how much I absolutely adore your writing— I may or may not have binged all your stories in one night because I got completely lost in your writing hehe. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to make a little request! ❤️

could you please do a sieun x reader where we the reader leaves cute little notes in his textbooks after studying together? :3 I feel like it’d be cute, maybe something like little words of encouragement or small explanations to make some difficult concepts easier !! 🫶🫶

study buddy

gif creds: @seolinguk

pairing yeon sieun x gender neutral reader

summary you and sieun study together, and have a silent way of communicating with each other

word count ~600

warnings/tags fluff

being rank 2 in the school wasn't all that hard, not with a study partner like yeon sieun.

sieun didn't talk much, was emotionless most of the time, and literally only ate and drank when absolutely necessary. he was a living studying machine.

his methods were more to make studying more efficent—sieun's words, not yours—but you think he's just burning himself into the ground. it can't be healthy, min-maxxing studying like this.. he's already naturally smart, so what the hell is he doing all this for?

he’s focused. intense, even. he rarely speaks unless it’s to ask a question (extreme rare) or point something out. but you can feel his eyes drifting over sometimes, watching the way you take notes with colorful pens, how you underline things with little stars and write silly ramblings in the margins.

still, it was nice to study with him. his neat notes organized everything into sections that made it easier to grasp concepts. not to mention he would never let you slack off—always pushing you to stay on top of it with no break.

you stared blankly at your calculus homework while sieun was already working on his chemistry II work. differential equations made no sense, how did sieun already finish the homework?

"sieun-ah, can i see the homework? and the notes for differential equations?" you sighed, putting your pencil down. the numbers weren't adding up, so might as well refresh on the concept.

you flip through his notebook, and even his handwriting is completely straight. it's looks like he printed it out, but small ink smudges prove otherwise.

tearing off a small pink sticky note, you decide to leave him some encouragement. hopefully he'd enjoy it, and not just toss it out the next day.

fighting!ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ you got this sieunnie ☆

he doesn’t mention it the next day. doesn’t spare a second glance at you. but the note is still there, standing out against the monochrome background.

so you keep going. it turns into a small habit. you start leaving similar messages of encouragement, explanations, and even dumb jokes.

he doesn't react or say anything, but you swear you can see the smallest quirk of his lips as he reads over your latest one.

what's a math's teachers favorite dessert? π (￢‿￢ )

one day, you ask for his notes again to double check something. as you open it, you see all your notes neatly taped side by side on one page.

remember.. even geniuses have to take breaks sometimes! ╮(︶︿︶)╭ go drink some water!

you forgot to plug this rule in, you doofus :P

yeon sieun you want to buy me tteokbokki sooo bad right now ꩜꩜

[bad sketch of him studying] <3

(・_・)! i did not know you could solve it like that..

you laugh to yourself. it was silly, just a few lines scribbled in messy ink and hidden between practice problems. but he saved them. all of them. and maybe he didn’t know how to say things aloud, but the way he kept your words close made your heart flutter.

sieun's ears were dusted pink as you handed it back to him, and his face looked slightly embarrassed.

you opened your own notebook to see a ripped piece of paper with writing on it. there's no way, right?

Thank you.

you glance up and his head ducks down quicky, eyes fixed on anything but you. (so much for being subtle sieun..)

you read over the note again. it was just two words, but they felt like thousands—especially since they were coming from sieun.

maybe studying wasn't so bad with him around.

fin

a/n so short im sorry😭

[desi2go]

What if it changed everything?

pt.1 | pt. 2

pairing: idol!Seungmin x reader

warnings: smut, angst, pregnancy, talking about abortion

summary: After a one night of pleasure with a member of the famous kpop group Stray Kids, you find out that you are pregnant. What will you do?

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

You didn't know what you were doing outside at this ungodly hour. After finishing up your rather unsuccessful study session at your university's library, you couldn't just calm your mind down. It had made it so difficult to learn, to even think properly.

Exams were coming up and your anxieties weren't really helping. No, they made it even worse.

You had hoped that the cold air on a spring night would clear your mind, shit the intrusive, loud thoughts out.

You didn't even know about what you were wrecking your brain over. It was just too much. Everything. The sudden divorce of your parents and the secret relationship of your father with another woman had turned your world upside down within seconds. And your best friend Sanha was currently going through a breakup herself, crying over her boyfriend who dumped her for another woman.

Now, you had the two of them swimming in their own problems, complaining to you about their unfair treatments.

You felt as if you needed to find solutions to their situations, like the whole weight was burdening your shoulders when you had your own troubles. With your parents not talking to each other, you had become their voice, negotiating between them.

And you? You didn't know how the hell you were going to survive the next few months. Your work place, a little book shop where you got enough money to pay for your rent, had closed suddenly, leaving you with no job and no money.

You could barely afford the college fees even with a job and your parents now had other problems to solve. And applicating at another place was difficult in a city with hundreds of poor students desperate for a little bit of money.

You hoped that the biting cold would soothe your nerves and cool your trailing thoughts just like it cooled your skin. A shiver wrecked your body as you circled your thin jacket tighter around yourself, cursing that you hadn't chosen the thicker one.

It was already way past ten pm. Most people were already at home, leaving the streets quiet and lonely. Just like you felt.

And the fresh air didn't seem to stop your mind, in fact, it made it much more worse. The quietness only fueling the nerves. To relieve some of that, you picked at your nails and chewed at your lip. Bad habits you had picked up long ago.

As you followed the path home to your small apartment, you observed the turbulence inside of the bar. It was the only thing lightening the street apart from the few traffic lights.

The clinking of glass against eachother and the loud laughter lured you inside. It was a Friday evening. So, no classes tomorrow. That meant that you could actually stay up way past your bedtime and sleep in. Very tempting.

If the quietness couldn't stop your mind, maybe the loudness would. A drink or two couldn't hurt, right?

Before actually stepping inside, you stopped yourself as you saw your reflection in the glass door. Knitting your eyebrows, you pulled at your dark grey jacket and the boring jeans.

You looked like a grandma who had been stuck at a library too long. Well, you indeed where at the library for nearly ten hours.

With a final glance, you pushed the heavy wooden door open. Immediately, the smell of beer and sweat flooded your nose.

You couldn't even remember the last time you had attended a party. That must have been ages ago. Only the mere thought of a cool glass of Lillet in your hand made your mouth water.

Yes, that was exactly what you needed. Alcohol and some good music. And maybe even a small little hook up for your nerves that could spice up your (currently nonexistent) sex life.

The muscular bartender immediately took your order and placed the pinkish fluid on the countertop with a smirk. "Here ya go, sweetheart. Looks like you really need it"

You laughed and nodded. "Oh, you can't imagine how much I need that." You nearly moaned as the sweet liquid pooled into your mouth, a faint touch of alcohol burned your throat just the way you liked.

After downing the first glass of your Longdrink, you felt the alcohol spreading in your whole body, warmth gathering in your stomach.

With a pleasant hum, you opened your hair and combed through it with your fingers, moving your foot along the beat if the music. Your body heated up and you shrugged your jacket off to cool your overheating skin.

The bartender placed another filled glass infront of you.

"Whiskey please" You flinched at the voice that seemed only centimeters away. Turning your head, you glanced at the young man sitting down on the chair beside you.

While the bartender worked, you had the opportunity to observe the black haired man more. His short hairstyle revealed a beautiful face with big boba eyes and a cute smile.

His black leather jacket only enhanced his appeal. And before you could actually stare at the mysterious stranger even more, his order was placed down and his hand wrapped around the glass while he turned to you.

"Hey" he mouthed, flashing you with his smile. With his face completely turned to you, you saw how tired he looked. Dark circles permanent under his eyes but never minimizing his beauty.

"Hi" you answered breathy, feeling gummy and red from the alcohol and maybe his attention.

"What is a gorgeous woman like you doing here all alone on a Friday night?" He asked, swirling the content of his glass before placing it on his lips and drinking. Your eyes followed the brownish liquid to his small, perfect lips.

"Drowning my thoughts and you? Rough day?" He chuckled at your assumption. His eyes sparkled sheepishly.

"You aren't wrong. I really had a hard day. And now, I'm just trying to distract my mind from the upcoming stress" he replied, ordering another round.

"I'm Seungmin by the way"

You chuckled and took his hand that he had stretched out towards you. "Nice to meet Seungmin. I'm Y/n"

"Y/n" he mouthed loudly as if he liked the way it rolled of his tongue. "I love the sound of your name" he flirted with a smirk.

Without thinking, you giggled, feeling the redness pooling into your cheeks like a stupid teenager.

"Well, thank you. Yours is really fine too." The black haired man nodded with a hum, his hand brushing yours briefly that sat on the cool wooden countertop as if it was nothing.

You liked the way he looked at you. With longing and desire, something you hadn't felt for so long since you were always busy keeping up with classes and your job. But Seungmin seemed to push the right buttons and you were convinced that he wasn't just good in flirting.

"Do you have any plans tonight, Y/n?" He questioned after drowning the second glass of whiskey. His whole body was still turned towards you on the bar stool as his hand graced yours again. But now, he actually rested his hand over yours, caressing your tender skin.

Immediately, you shook your head no. You had nothing to do other than ravishing and spend the night with him.

"I have no plans yet" you shrugged, chugging the last bit of your Lillet and letting your tongue run over your lips to wet them. You liked the way his eyes couldn't concentrate on your own and travelled down to your mouth in unvoiced desire.

"I think we both have earned a distraction from our churning thoughts, haven't we?" He whispered into your ear as his hand travelled up over your exposed arm which sent shivers along your spine in pure bliss.

Like in a trance, you nodded firmly, earning a happy smile from him.

"How about you accompany me to my apartment which is only a few houses away and we spent some time together? How does that sound?"

You gulped. You knew that there were some crazy people who lure women like you with sentences like that into misery. People who would force and rape you only to leave you behind on a dark alley like trash afterwards.

But was Seungmin really that type of guy? Well, the victims hadn't thought about their rapist as a threat first either.

While your mind reminded you about the traumatising article about a woman who had just been raped, you said fuck it. You were sick of your ever working brain with the stupids thoughts that never leave you alone.

Now, they could all quiet down. You weren't listening. Not this once.

"Sounds wonderful. Let me just pay for my drinks and we are good to go" you answered with a smile, calling the bartender over. As you searched through your purse for your credit card, Seungmin placed a hand on your shoulder, getting your attention.

You lifted your gaze. "No need. I'll pay for us" he winked at you and you immediately bowed your head, thankful for his kindness while blush crept up your cheeks.

"Thank you so much" you mumbled shyly. Seungmin brushed it off and helped you up after paying. "I can't let such a gorgeous woman pay for herself. Then, I wouldn't be a gentleman" he smirked and winked at you playfully.

You laughed amused, finding your jacket on the rack and quickly slipping it on.

"well, you are indeed a gentleman" you mused as he held the door open for you and immediately returned to your side to show you the way.

The way back to his apartment was filled with some small talk and a comfortable silence. Despite his obvious confidence in all his actions, you found out that he was actually the type of guy who rather listens than talks much.

And you definitely didn't mind that. You were quite the yapper and loved to talk. Sadly, your words often hit deaf ears since most people shut off after a while. But Seungmin?

Whenever you stopped yourself from sharing too much, he asked the right questions in the right moments. You knew this would be just a normal fling, a one night stand, absolutely nothing serious, but this little gesture warmed your heart, making him even more attractive to you. And you couldn't stop it. Maybe it was the alcohol that ran through your system or your nonexistent love life but it was sad that you were only a little fuck for him. From your observations, he was totally boyfriend coded.

Five minutes later, you found yourself in a luxurious apartment, too luxurious for a man in his early twenties. You gulped as you saw his clean living room, held in black and white.

He chuckled at your big eyes. "I'm often travelling around. That's why it looks so untouched" he brushed his hand over your exposed arm, letting goosebumps spread over your skin.

You finally let your eyes wander to him, his attractive smile and those brown eyes that sparkled sheepishly. Playfully, you winked at him, bringing your arms confidently around his neck and leaned in.

Tenderly, you brushed your lips against his neck, feeling him suck air in. "We can make it feel homely"

Almost immediately, his lips crashed against yours, pushing you against the grey wall behind you. "Absolutely love that idea" he mused before caressing your red lips with his tongue, pleading to get into your mouth.

With a moan, you opened up for him, clawing at his t-shirt to pull him closer. One of his long legs, pushed between yours and you could feel the warmth pooling into your belly.

This was exactly what you needed right now.

Him. At this moment.

You didn't need to think. You just followed your intuition, letting him take the reins so that you could just enjoy.

And you did exactly that. Enjoying.

You enjoyed how his lips felt against yours. How his hands travelled to your thighs and pushed you upwards in a sudden, practised movement that left you gasping. You enjoyed how he lifted you up like you weight nothing while your tongues collided inside of your mouth.

Loudly, you moaned into his mouth as you felt his bulge through his jeans, your heels digging into his ass to rub yourself against him in a teasing manner. The reaction was immediate. The shudder and the little rut against your body spoke words. He really needed that as much as you did.

With quick and powerful strides, he carried you deeper into the apartment, into the bedroom and let you fall onto the huge bed. The soft mattress cushioned your fall as you bounced slightly. You spread yourself out over the big, soft blanket, watching the black haired man in front of you like a hawk its prey.

Seungmin quickly got rid of his t-shirt.

And oh boy, he looked fine as hell.

His chest was slightly toned, muscles showing underneath his smooth skin as he struggled slightly to strip off his jeans. You felt how the heat gathered in your abdomen, longing for that hot man right in front of you.

Finally, he had won the war against his trousers and stood in all his glory, only dressed in his black boxers, right there. The fire in his eyes matched your own as he slowly got onto the bed like a predator sneaking up to its prey, ready to eat you.

"Let's get that off of you" he murmured, voice thick with desire. You only nodded and kissed him back while he opened the button to your jeans and helped you out of it. Soon, your top followed.

"So hot" he growled, burying his fingers in your hair and slightly pulling at it while he pushed your back down to the bed. His hands roamed your body like he owned it.

You moaned as he pushed his body over yours and made quick work of your bra that landed on the ground right next to your other clothes. His hands found your breast and kneaded them, making you mewl in pleasure.

His lips captured your own again. You clinged to him, nails in his back to keep him close, and undulate under him, body hot and desperate. He dropped his boxers, letting his hard cock swing free, and it’s impressive. You felt yourself lick your lips like a predator at the sight.

With one hand, he digged through his bedside table in search for a condom. His erection was plump and stood straight up as he slid the condom over his length, your eyes never leaving his moves. While he prepared himself, you slipped out of your panties, waiting for him.

He was back on top of you, his sheer presence pushing you down, making you flatten out against the mattress. His lips were on you, and it’s like he had reached deep up into some secret, hidden spot inside of you and flicked a switch.

With every fibre of his being, you burned. Melting into a puddle of pure want under his kiss. He shifted on top of you, and then you felt it.

His cock pressed deep inside of you, and you felt like you might come right then and there. He used his palms to prop himself up above you, and he found his steady rhythm that lit fire in your veins.

You could tell that he was trying to go slow at first, trying to let you settle, but he was just as desperate as you were. Confidently, you pressed your hips back against his, making him hiss in pleasure as he felt how tight you were, massaging his length delicately.

You taking the initiative was all the encouragement he needed. It was like he had turned a switch off and started pounding you like there is no tomorrow.

And god, you loved it.

The bedroom was filled with the sound of hips slapping against eachother, mixing with the moans and pants from both of you. His harsh movements unlocked something inside of you.

You were panting, sweating, aching your body up against his and all you could think of was getting more. More, more, more, even when you already felt filled to the brim, even when you felt completely overwhelmed by the pleasure.

His breath became ragged and uneven, his skins was heated up against yours and you could feel yourself quickly approaching that taut, sharp peak.

"I'm close" you moaned, stretching your chest against his at the dragging of his cock against your walls. Your fingers clawed at his shoulders, digging into the soft skin.

"Me too" you heard him whisper in your ear as his lips kissed that sweet spot on your neck that made you see stars.

Right when you were vibrating on the edge, your whole body quaking, your thighs locked around his hips, he slammed his cock into you.

And that's all it took. You screamed, a scream that ripped out of your chest and through your whole body as you came. You were still feeling, spinning out when you felt him shudder and doing some final rocks against you as he came too. He groaned against your shoulder in pure bliss.

When you started to catch your breath, the weight of his body was warm and comfortable on top of you. You slipped your fingers into his hair and felt his heartbeat slowing down against yours. You two stayed like that for a long while, just breathing, before you sighed.

"I probably should head back to my place" you murmured, slipping from his bed and collecting your clothes from the ground you had dropped so carelessly.

Seungmin turned to his side, holding his haed up with his hand, not caring that his whole body was on display. With judging eyes, he stared at you for a moment and then to the clock on his bedside table.

"It's already two am in the morning. I'm not gonna let you walk home." He countered with finality, pushing his chin up in confidence.

Knitting your eyebrows, you replied. "And what should I do then?"

"Stay here for the night." He shrugged, giving you a playful smirk.

"Really? You're sure? I'm a total stranger" you retorted, pulling your shirt over your head.

A snort left his mouth. "I'm a total stranger too. And yet, you're here and just had sex with me"

You opened your mouth to reply but you couldn't deny that he was right. You indeed had trusted him even though you only knew his name.

Well, it looked like you didn't have any other option and if you were honest, you didn't have it within you right now to walk all the way back to your apartment in the darkness alone.

"Alright. I stay" you sighed, rolling your eyes at his teasing smirk.

❤☯❤

The next morning you woke up in warm arms that circled around your waist and kept you close. His mouth was resting on your exposed shoulder, making you shudder comfortable with every exhale. With your back pressed against his front, you must say that this position was extremely comfortable.

Seungmin was still deep asleep behind you but you just couldn't go back to sleep, being sad that this one night stand ended here.

Last night was fun. So much fun like you hadn't experienced in the last year. Finally, your mind had shot off and let your rest for the night. And now, you felt even more relaxed and recharged than ever. Maybe Sanha, your best friend, was right when she nudged you to have more fun, to make more out of your life than just studying.

After some time, you decided to check your phone. It was 10:39 am and you had 18 missed calls from your best friend. Shit, you had totally forgotten to tell her and usually, you and Sanha had breakfast together at her apartment every single Saturday.

She was definitely going to kill you. At first for not texting her where you were and then for not coming. You were so fucked.

Sannie: Y/n L/n! Answer your goddamn phone! Where the heck are you? Are you still sleeping?

Sannie: You are so late for our breakfast! Answer!

Sannie: Is everything alright? Hello? Did you turn your phone off?

Sannie: Y/n?

You felt so bad for forgetting her and your shared breakfast. And you knew with how dramatic she was that she would still complain about it years ago.

Y/n: I'm so sorry, Sannie! I totally forgot!

Immediately, she responded.

Sannie: How the heck can you forget your best friend?

Y/n: Well, I followed your advice and had some fun last night.

Sannie: WAIT! REALLY? Oh my god! Yes!

Sannie: How was it? Tell me everything! Right now!!! Come over, quickly!

Y/n: I'm still at his apartment so I can't come over right now. But it was great! I had so much fun and you were right, it really helped me destressing.

Sannie: You are still there? Oh my god! There will definitely a part two!

Y/n: I'm gonna tell as soon as I walk out of his apartment!

Sannie: You better be

Seungmin shifted behind you, causing you to drop your phone.

"Good morning" he said in his deep, raspy morning voice.

"Well, good morning to you too"

He gave you a sleepy smile before rolling off the bed and slipping into his boxers. You sighed contently and dressed yourself in your old clothes from yesterday while the black haired man walked into the kitchen.

"Do you want a coffee?" He questions as soon as you entered the room after making you look presentable in the bathroom.

You nodded your head quietly and sat down on a stool, thanking him when he placed the steaming mug in front of you.

The quiet was comfortable. But it seemed like Seungmin wanted to say something.

"You have absolutely no idea who I am, right?" He asked, brushing his hands through his tousled hair.

Confused, you shook your head no. "No? Should I?"

He grinned. "Well, I am Seungmin of Stray Kids." Your whole face was drained out of colour and you were sure that you were whiter than the wall in the kitchen. Sanha loved that group and sometimes you even listened to their songs. But you never had made the effort to memorise the member's faces.

"Oh my god" you mumbled. Sanha won't believe you.

"And that's why I need you to sign this NDA." He placed some pieces of paper down with a pen, nudging you to read and sign it.

❤☯❤

"You will never know who I saw today!" Sanha, your best friend called out as soon as she pushed the door to your apartment open.

It was a normal Tuesday late afternoon for both of you. While you had classes up until four pm, Sanha worked at a small bakery and always came to your apartment afterwards.

Nearly five weeks ago, you had that wonderful one night stand with the black haired man and everything was normal. You went to college, studied, searched for a job. Nothing had changed.

"Who?" You answered, nibbling on the backside of your pen while your best friend for years let herself fall onto your bed behind you.

"My dear Ex! He was in the bakery with his new girlfriend!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air in agitation. "As if the breakup wasn't hard for me. And now he decided to show his new lover off at my workplace. I bet he just wanted to piss me off" she growled angrily.

Well, since you couldn't concentrate on studying anymore, you pushed yourself off your desk chair and jumped onto the bed next to her.

She huffed loudly. "Such an asshole. First he dumped you unceremoniously and now he does shit like that" you shook your head and comforted her with a welcoming hug.

Those situations weren't new since Sanha's relationship had ended so fast. Often, you found yourself comforting her for hours without end while she cried in your arms from the humiliation she had faced. So, this wasn't something new.

But today, something is different. And it hadn't to do with your best friend.

For a week you had felt a little off, almost as if you had catched a cold. Your muscles ached and sometimes, your head hurt like it was beaten with hammers.

"You know, Sannie. There are tons of other guys out there that would love to be your boyfriend. You just need to wait and find the right one" you emphasized, sitting up to brush some strands of hair behind her ear.

But the sudden movement made you feel light headed and sick. Before your best friend could answer, you lunged off the bed.

"One sec!" You exclaimed and booked it across the apartment to your bathroom, your friend trailing close behind in worry.

"What's wrong? Y/n!" She called out in terror, not having expected you to sprint.

You didn't even care to close the door behind your form. Right now, that wasn't your problem.

There was no time.

You hunched over the toilet and immediately retched and puked. Sanha had trailed in too, holding your hair out of your way while she rubbed your back soothingly.

Sighing, you braced yourself over the bowl once it was over.

What the hell?

You felt completely fine just minutes ago. So what was this?

"Is everything fine?" Your friend asked concerned. You shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know why I felt so nauseous from one time to the other. Maybe it was the sushi from yesterday"

She knitted her eyebrows. "Then, I would feel sick right now too." She thought, bringing you a damp wash cloth to wipe your mouth with.

What the hell was this? It couldn't be food poisoning since you ate nothing but eggs on toast this morning and nothing else that could have become bad.

Sanha sat down next to you. "Haven't you told me that you felt achy all week long?" You nodded, not knowing what she was up to.

"You and that guy five weeks ago - what was his name again?"

"Seungmin"

"Ah, right. Seungmin - did you use protection?"

You stopped in your tracks, not even breathing as you recalled what happened five weeks ago. Yes, he definitely used a condom and had taken your pill. Wait- you had forgotten it that night since you weren't home at 10 pm which was the usual time you took your pill. Fuck. Your eyes grew big.

"Did you?" Sanha added impatiently, staring at you in horror.

"Yes - I mean. We used a condom. But I remember that I didn't take my pill since I came home the next morning. Do you think the condom had a hole or was ripped? Do you think I'm pregnant?" Your whole body shook and your voice was hoarse.

No, you couldn't let your brain go there. But there was an unrelenting, nagging thought. Or... The thought alone was enough to draw up another batch of puke, and you threw yourself forward, emptying the last remains of your breakfast into the toilet.

You're seriously.... seriously...fucked.

❤☯❤

Tick, tack.

Tick, tack.

Tick, tack.

You swore if you would sit here for another hour, you were going to throw that damn clock out of the window. And the time didn't even seem to pass. It was like the time had slowed down only to mock you.

Sitting in the waiting room of the tiny hospital near your apartment wasn't the best thing you could do on a Monday morning. Technically, you were even skipping your classes but you didn't spend any mind to that. This was important. Life changing important.

You couldn't believe you were actually here. You shouldn't be here at all. And yet, here you sat, annoyed by that damn clock.

But the ongoing nausea since last week's Tuesday didn't leave any room for arguments. With every day that passed and you were still puking your guts out, especially in the morning, the chance of food poisoning grew slimmer and slimmer.

Maybe you just caught a strange cold? A new disease? Anything. You would take anything as an answer but not the one you dreaded the most at the moment.

And the way the nurse at the front desk looked at you. So pitiful and soothing was so annoying and didn't actually help. You bet that she thought how sad it was for a 22 year old to turn out pregnant when the father wasn't even here. His absence clearly told her everything she needed to know.

Your left arm hurt a bit where the nurse had drawn blood from you for the pregnancy test, a cute little plaster now covering the skin.

Nervously, you were picking at your nails, not actually focusing on the people that entered the waiting room.

As the shuffling came to an halt and the person sat down right in front of you, you cared to look up from your stress hobby.

You stilled in your actions when you realised who stared back at you just like you did. The black hair, the brown eyes and that gorgeous mouth.

It was Seungmin.

Fuck, you were truly fucked.

He recognised you as well, giving you a charming smile as he sat up with a grimace. From what you could observe, his hand was hurt judging by how he carefully held his hand up with the other

Your big eyes and your open mouth made him chuckle. "Hello again, Y/n" he greeted.

Calm down, you thought. He didn't know why you're here. You have nothing to fear. He won't find out. "It's nice to see you too, Seungmin" you replied after taking a deep breath which was difficult with how much your heart hammered against your ribcage.

"Why are you-" he started again but couldn't finish his sentence as another nurse entered the waiting room.

"Mrs. Y/n L/n, the gynecologist is ready to see you now" she waved you over with a smile. Quickly, you shot up, feeling Seungmin's hot stare on your back. Well, now, he most definitely knew or at least suspected. He was too smart not to.

You pushed the growing anxiety forcefully away when you sat down on the chair, taking deep breaths again to stop your racing heart. Come on, stay calm, you mumbled. Everything's going to turn out fine. Now focus on the right now.

Like a mantra, you repeated those words until your gynecologist entered with your case tucked carefully underneath his arm. His friendly smile brought warmth and soothing.

“I see you’re here to get a pregnancy test. Is that correct?” he said, sitting down behind the table and typed something into his computer.

You gulped and looked at your feet in shame. “Yes.”, you mumbled.

“And when was the last time you had sex?” He tapped his fingers once against the keyboard, but his eyes locked onto yours.

"six weeks ago" you answered truthfully. He hummed and wrote that piece of information down.

"Alright. I got your blood samples back and you have a high percentage of oestrogens which indicates a pregnancy. Congratulations" he stated, giving you a kind smile.

In that moment it was as if your whole world came crashing down on you. Now, that nightmare was confirmed, there was no sense of convincing yourself that you're not pregnant. To say that you were shocked was an understatement.

"I would like to do a quick ultrasound to check how the fetus is developing" with a grand gesture, he guided you to the examination table.

You gulped as you laid down, belly exposed. Your hands were clutched together over your chest and the cold gel on your belly made you shiver slightly.

He started the machine and brushed over your belly with practised movements. The screen showed the inside of your belly, well, you hoped that it was your belly since you couldn't recognise anything.

"From what I can see, the fetus looks good and is developing right"

"Is- is there already a heartbeat?" You fidgeted with your fingers, turning your head.

He hummed and pressed a few buttons. "You are six weeks pregnant and actually, we should be able to hear it" Only seconds later, the room was filled with fast and steady heartbeats. Your own heart jumped at the sound and you needed to stop yourself from cooing. This was your baby.

"Do you want a photo?" He asked and without even thinking, you nodded eagerly.

"As I assume, this pregnancy wasn't planned, right?"

Still in shock, you just nodded your head, combing through your hair in a soothing manner, at least that was what it was suppose to do.

"I'm not saying that you need to decide now. You still have time whether or not to keep the baby. I just want to give you the opportunity to choose." He explained, grabbing a bunch of brochures from his desk and placed them in front of you.

"Thank you" you mumbled, putting them in your bag after cleaning yourself with some paper towels.

Before exiting the examination room, he gave you the ultrasound photo of your little bean which you safely tucked inside of your bag, away from prying eyes. You stopped in your movements shortly as you grabbed the handle.

What if Seungmin was still sitting outside? What if he waited to confront you? But you couldn't stay here all day. Sooner or later, you needed to get out of the room.

Nervously, you poked your head out and sighed when you didn't see him right away in the waiting room which meant he had been called to the doctor already. That might leave you with enough time to get the hell out of there.

But still, you peeled into every corner or turn, just to be sure that he wasn't waiting for you in one of the hallways. On top of that, you felt like a little paranoid since every single time a person walked behind you and you heard their footsteps echoing through the long room, you quickly whipped your head around to check.

Another sigh left your lips as you exited the hospital, enjoying the warming sun. In only six weeks, the starting, early spring had developed into a much more friendlier version. For a minute you enjoyed the warmth on your skin and the smell of the prospering flowers. Then, you decided to better get going and rummaged through your bag in order to find the keys for your bike.

After another minute, you triumphantly smiled and lifted the key into the air. In your clumsiness, you let it fall to the ground. Sighing, you reached down to the ground to pick it up again but stilled as a voice called out your name from afar.

"Y/n!" You jumped slightly and quickly perked up to see who was calling out for you. In confusion, you looked around, only to find Seungmin walking, towards you from the hospital entrance. His hand was wrapped in bandages but still, he came towards you.

His face contorted in pain and you actually contemplated to jump on your bike and get the hell out of here. But you couldn't do that. You weren't an asshole.

As Seungmin came to an halt in front of you, his curious eyes observed your form. Nervously, his gaze shooting from your face to your covered belly.

Shit, he definitely knew something was up.

"Why were you in the hospital?" He asked, voice tight.

You played with the key in your hands, affectively avoiding his judging gaze.

"Yeah, I- I just had a check up" you explained evasively.

He wetted his lips with his tongue, stepping slightly closer.

"Y/n, why were you in the hospital?" His voice grew softer with each word, almost pleadingly, and his eyes searching your gaze.

You took a deep breath, heart hammering in your chest. Panic flooded your veins since you knew you couldn't postpone that conversation. He was clearly suspecting what you hided. Due to the lack answers he got from you, he sighed, his hand land on top of his big hat that concealed most of his head.

"Are you pregnant?" He whispered as if he was afraid to voice those words out loud. You gulped and finally looked him in the eyes while you gave him a sad, broken smile. Your hands were shaking from the panic in your veins.

This was the moment you had dreaded the most. How would he react? Would he want to be in the baby's life? Would he turn around as if it wasn't his business too?

You weren't even sure what you wanted to do with the new information about the growing life inside of you! Should you keep it? Yes? No? You didn't know. You mind was running on high speed with the amount of thinking you did.

"Seungmin-I" before you could dodge his question, he asked again.

"You are pregnant, right? That's why you're here" he stated, looking for the answer in your eyes. His pleading look was heartbreaking and you could see how much this affected him.

You knew there was no escape. You had to voice it out loud or he wouldn't let you get home.

"Yes. I am" you mumbled, looking down shamefully. That was the first time you were saying those words out loud and now, this whole situation became suddenly much more realistic and true.

The black haired boy ran his uninjured hand over his face while taking a deep breath. "Is it mine?" His voice broke.

"Yes" you replied quietly, too afraid to be the victim of his anger. "I wasn't sexually active before and after. Plus, the doctor said that I was six weeks along"

He nodded understandingly, taking another deep breath to stop the anxiety that flooded his veins. He was just 22 years old - how could he be fitting to be a father? But something didn't sit right in his mind.

"Wait - we used a condom. I never have intercourse without one" he stated, judging your shaking form to analyse if you were lying or not.

"Yes, but it must have ripped or had a hole." You explained truthfully since their wasn't any other possibility for you to get pregnant.

"Shit" he mumbled, gulping and massaging his neck to relieve the stress.

Despite the circumstances, you were calming down. Now, you didn't need to hide that big secret from anyone anymore. Which lifted a huge rock from your heart. Now, you had someone who could help you along the way, wether you kept the baby or not.

"I-I can't do that. I'm an idol and only 22! I-I can't be a father right now." Seungmin mumbled like a mantra. His eyes not focused on you anymore.

"I know. I'm afraid too" you soothed. You couldn't believe that you were soothing him right now, when you were the one pregnant.

"No, I-I can't deal with that right now. I-I need to go" he exclaimed, panicking and quickly stepping backwards.

"Seungmin, wait!" You answered in shock. Never you had thought that he would react that way. But you couldn't force him to stay.

You weren't his girlfriend, only some strangers who had hocked up. He had no responsibilities. A one night stand that had created new life.

You let him go. Despite your own panic, you tried to stay calm, try to think for the little bean inside you. Sure, you were frustrated about his reaction but you understood it.

With a sigh, you turned around again and tried to unlock your bike's lock with your shaking fingers. Silently you cursed yourself for thinking that he would understand and help you, at least to find a solution together. But you were wrong. He just seemed to think about himself, about his life that will change. But what about you? You were the one pregnant! You didn't even know if you could continue college!

❤☯❤

"So, what's your plan now?" Sanha asked, walking into your small living room with a bowl of popcorn in her hands. You shrugged your shoulders, sighing and spreading the prospects over the coffee table.

"I don't know. I don't know if I should keep it or get rid of it!" You exclaimed, diving into the bowl and immediately popped it into your mouth. Stress eating always helped you. Wether it was stress from exams, your parent's divorce or now the sudden pregnancy. Eating always helps.

Sanha rubbed your tense shoulders, giving you a comforting hug. " I know it's a huge decision. But you don't need to choose today. And no matter how you decide - I will help you, okay?"

You smiled at her thankfully. "I love you" you whispered, tears in your eyes.

"I love you too" It was such a good feeling to know that someone will be there for you, even though it's not the father.

"We need to do pros and cons!" Sanha exclaimed in a loud voice, jumping up from the couch and rummaging through a drawer until she found paper and a pen.

You sighed. That was going to be a long night.

❤☯❤

"Okay, stop guys!" Chan exclaimed angrily, stopping their dance practise once again. With a sigh, he shut off the music of their newest title track and turned to his members.

"What's going on Seungmin? You keep making so much mistakes today. What's on your mind that you can't even get the easiest parts right?" He wanted to know from the black haired, his voice turning softer with concern.

They all had flopped to the floor, panting and sweating since they were practicing for a few hours now.

"I fucked up, hyung, I fucked up big time" Seungmin covered his face with his hands.

"It's okay, Minnie. Tell us" Minho nudged, brushing his hair out of his face.

"I hooked up with a girl a few weeks ago"

"That's great, isn't it? You sure had a lot of fun" Hyunjin cheered, wiggling his eyebrows. Felix snorted, grinning widely, while Chan groaned, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "Oh please tell me you let her sign a NDA" he murmured, his voice threatening.

"No, of course I had her sign!" Seungmin exclaimed.

"Then what is the problem, Minnie?" Jisung wanted to know. "Was she that bad?" Hyunjin added. Vehemently, the black haired shook his head.

"Did you fell in love with your one night stand?" Jeongin teased. Well, Seungmin didn't expect that. Blinking, he felt warmth spreading over his cheeks. "That-That's not the point!"

Changbin giggled. "Don't say you have a crush on her from only seeing her once!"

"Seungmin is in love! Seungmin is in love!" Minho sing-sang playfully. The black haired sighed in defeat, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

"She's pregnant, okay!?" He yelled over his friend's chattering, voice cracking in defeat.

For a moment, everything went silent. Everyone stared at him in disbelief, too stunned to speak as if they tried to figure out if he was joking or not.

"Is that a joke, Seungmin? Because it better is" Chan cleared his throat, trying to stay calm. Seungmin just shook his head, eyes trailing down to the floor.

"How did that happen? Why didn't you use protection?" Felix asked, brushing through Seungmin's hair to soothe him.

"My condom ripped or had a hole" he murmured, earning a deep sigh from Chan.

"Shit" Changbin whispered, hugging him from behind. "What have you two decided to do?"

The younger one just shrugged his shoulders, lip trembling from the emotions he felt. "I don't know"

Minho knitted his eyebrows. "You don't know? But you have spoken to her about that, right?"

In shame, Seungmin looked away. "I panicked after she told me and I said I couldn't do this and ran away" he admitted.

Hyunjin cleared his throat. "Well, you're an asshole"

"Honestly, I would have slapped you" Jeongin stated, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I know! I was an ass. But this whole situation overwhelmed me! I can't be a parent at 22"

"And you aren't the one who is pregnant, Seungmin. She didn't want to be in that situation either and is probably scared too." Chan replied, patting Seungmin's shoulder.

"You need to speak to her. It isn't just her fault and you both need to find a solution together" Felix exclaimed, joining into the hug.

"Thank you all" Seungmin mumbled as all the members enveloped him and now, he just needed to find you.

❤☯❤

The days blurred together after your confrontation with Seungmin. You knew that he wouldn't seek you out again but still, something deep inside you didn't loose the hope that he would suddenly stand in front of you with an apology and maybe a jar of pickles you craved at the moment.

Officially, you were now a little bit over eight weeks pregnant and the ongoing nausea tortured you more and more.

Together with Sanha, you had weighed the pros and cons of keeping the baby. If it weren't for your education and money problems, you would have chosen otherwise but now, you couldn't give the baby a good life. That's why you had decided to terminate the pregnancy.

It was a big decision and it had costed you several tissue boxes and tons of ice cream but it was better that way, especially when you didn't have anyone to help you.

Despite your inner turmoil, you had booked an appointment a week ago at a specialised clinic for the small operation. They had informed you that it wouldn't take long, only two hours and the little life within you would be gone, gone forever.

The walk to the clinic was cruel, like you would walk to a funeral. The funeral of your small little bean, like you had named the fetus. Shame washed over you when you saw the small clinic from afar. Every step made you more anxious and scared.

While your brain, the rational part of you, knew that this was the only good decision, your heart screamed at you to just turn around and walk away. Walk away from loosing your baby that couldn't even meet yet. And the worst part?

You loved kids and you always wanted some of your own. And honestly? You could imagine keeping the baby, no, you would if you could.

The uneasiness spread when you greeted the receptionist and told you to sit down.

Tick, tack.

Tick, tack.

Tick, tack.

Just like in the hospital, there was this horrible clock but this time, it didn't agitate you. No, this time, it felt like a countdown and with each second that passed, you couldn't turn around and go. It was only a few hours until the fate of your little bean would be sealed.

Anxiously, you tapped your foot against the white tiles, desperately wanting to get this over with so you couldn't back down. Inside, you felt like a coward. There were so many couples around the world who had troubles conceiving or having miscarriage. And here you were, with a healthy fetus, waiting to get rid of it.

You flinched when your name was called and quickly hurried into the small examination room.

"So, Miss Y/n. How are we feeling today?" The nice elderly woman greeted you.

"Okay, I guess" you shrugged your shoulders, sitting down for the prep talk.

"Alright. You already know that this is a minimal invasive operation and afterwards, you can go as soon as the narcosis wears off but it's safer to have someone to get you."

Distantly, you nodded since you had already asked for Sanha to get you afterwards. Without noticing, your hands glided to your abdomen as if you wanted to protect the little bean.

"So, with that being clarified, you just need to sign this allowance that you have agreed to the operation and then, a nurse will fetch you and give you a remedy that will open your cervix in approximately an hour." The elderly woman explained, sliding the allowance over the table for you to read along with a pen.

Friendly, she smiled. "Alright, you can give that to the nurse when it's signed" with that, she lead you out of the room for you to sit in the waiting area again.

Your stomach churned as you read sentence after sentence. The described procedure sounded brutal but through the narcosis, you wouldn't feel a thing and the baby, well, it wouldn't be there afterwards. That's how your shared time will end.

You felt ashamed that you chose the easiest way and you wouldn't fight for the little bean. After finishing reading, you opened the pen and were about to leave your signature underneath but as you positioned the pen on the paper, you stilled again as if an invisible force held your hand firmly.

Honestly, even if the circumstance were bad and you hadn't planned to get pregnant, you had grown quite attached to the little bean. Maybe this were your hormones talking but suddenly, the feeling of shame and guilt crashed over you more than ever before.

Tears sprang into your eyes, blurring your vision. Why couldn't you just sign that damn allowance and continue your life how it was used to be? Would that make you a bad person? No, but an extremely guilty one.

You let the pen sink. No, you couldn't do it. You just couldn't. Maybe your parents could help you with your financials and some girls in college had already a kid or were pregnant. You could do it, with a little help, it was possible.

Quickly, you grabbed your purse and placed the allowance on the receptionist's table who gave you a surprised look.

"I'm sorry but I can't" with that, you quickly turned and exited the clinic, already phone in hand to call Sanha.

Immediately, she picked up.

"Y/n? Already finished?" She asked surprised and you heard her scrambling to get going.

"No, No. I couldn't" you answered, one hand rubbing over your belly absently.

"What?"

"I couldn't. I'm keeping the baby" you whispered, reality hitting you full force and brought tears into your eyes.

"Wait. Really?" Her scrambling stopped, impatiently waiting for your answer.

"Yes" you murmured, a small smile creating on your lips.

Her reaction was immediate. "Oh my fucking god! I'm gonna be an aunt! Hell ya!" She yelled through the phone, causing you to quickly bring some distance between you and the phone.

You chuckled. "I don't know if that's a good idea" you teased, internally loving the way she reacted.

"Stop that! You know what a good auntie I'll be!" She exclaimed outraged and you could visualise her how she put her hands at her sides.

"Little bean is going to be extremely lucky" you mused.

"We need to celebrate! I'm coming over with alcohol and ice-cream!" She exclaimed happily. "Wait - no alcohol for the mama! I'll get you some ice tea instead" she corrected herself immediately.

You giggled. Mama. That's a name you need to grow used to. But actually, you couldn't wait for your baby to say it for the first time.

author's note: just wanting to say that there is nothing wrong with abortions! I can understand everyone who chooses to do one and this is just how I would probably decide for myself if I ever got pregnant unplanned!

[ethereacals]

MANIAC

the one where you don't go back to the boys.

part two of the conan gray series

“i wish i were heather” out now!

synopsis: after getting cheated on by your previously expected soulmates, a change in perspective occurs and you find yourself falling for a different set of three.

warnings: foul language, slander on the marauders, sexual innuendos, mentions of smoking, a small taylor

"PEOPLE LIKE YOU ALWAYS WANT BACK WHAT THEY CAN'T HAVE."

Leaving Hogwarts early for Christmas this year was not something anyone could've forshadowed.

You, the girl who spent most of her time studying for her upcoming OWLS in November, had disappeared without a trace.

Of course most of your close friends knew where you were, and some not so close friends did aswell.

"She can't just run away from her problems." Said Sirius, his leg bouncing anxiously from the news Regulus had just sprung onto them.

"Sirius, It'll be fine, okay? When they get back to school, we can formally apologize and move on, right?" Remus attempted to reassure Sirius, but he in reality he felt quite crestfallen.

Lily sat quietly, already regretting her decision to do this with them.

In her head, she knew they had every intention to not cheat and solve things the right way— but she hadn’t helped.

It all started one night at a loud and ear-shattering Gryffindor victory party after a successful win for their Quidditch team.

She got drunk, and they were completely wasted.

And you weren’t there.

So their drunken minds believed it would be a missed opportunity if they didn’t take their chance with Gryffindors golden girl.

Lily knew she should’ve said no, she should’ve gone back to her dorm and hid from them for the rest of eternity.

But fate clearly had other plans.

And after secrets, longing stares, and lingering touches that the truth finally came to light.

and it was all at your expense.

“So— When will our Reggie be joining us, Meadowes?” Evan slurred, his voice carrying a heavily intoxicated tone.

“Soon enough, he’s got one more OWL to complete and then he’s on his way.” Dorcas mused as she gently pet the head of her tipsy sleepy Gryffindor girlfriends head as she babbled on about Quidditch.

Evan nodded drunkenly— before taking another swig.

Dorcas seemed so peaceful with Marlene— who had surprisingly accepted her invitation to spend Christmas with the Slytherins, though Marlene truly wasn’t prejudice against them like others were.

They seemed so… in love.

You had love once.

Remember?

They’re gone.

Remember?

They’re gone.

“I— I had love… once—“ You hiccuped sadly, beginning to sob for the umpteenth time this evening.

You were extremely drunk, who could really blame you?

“Aww… Treasure…” Barty (who surprisingly was very sober) cooed, encapsulating you in a bear hug as you cried into his chest.

“How many more times is she going to do that?” Asked Peter, who— by the way: lied to his friends and said he was going home for Christmas.

He was only visiting for the night, as he was currently visiting his girlfriend— Sybil Trelawney who lived in town.

“Who knows, Pete. Who knows..” Evan slung his arm around him.

“This should be the last time before she realizes that she doesn’t need them, that’s what the sprites are telling me.” Pandora smiled, petting your hair gently in comfort.

“Pettigrew, you should turn back to your rat-pack and tell them they’re trash.”

You spat, in broken sighs.

Obviously, Peter felt a bit of offense to the rat slander but alas— they weren’t aware of his rat-secret.

Quite a shame.

“Sure thing, L/N.”

'FEELS LIKE WE HAD MATCHING WOUNDS BUT MINES STILL BLACK AND BRUISED.'

on December 19th, Regulus had finally arrived at Barty's flat he'd rented for the holidays.

Marlene, Dorcas, and Peter had their departure just the day before, leaving just you, Pandora, Evan, Barty, and Regulus.

Pandora had just wished you all goodnights and dream blessings before nodding off to your shared room for your stay.

"So, anyone up for some firewhiskey?" Offered Evan, who held a giant bottle of the substance.

"Just a small bit, Rosie." Barty accepted his offer graciously.

"Need anything, amour?" Regulus mused in your ear, by far he was the most comforting one. As the other two just distracted you with their own twisted ways of thinking and chaos.

"I'm alright, Reggie. Thank you." You nodded politely, you had felt incredibly off this break.

Though they all weren't stupid, they knew why you were acting strange.

Every year since third year; You and the boys would leave Hogwarts and spend Christmas with the Potters.

Snowball fights, roaring fires, Effie's hot cocoa, the memories echoed through your brain like they were music blasting from your headphones.

Every time you closed your eyes to sleep, you would see endless slideshows of everything you had ever done with them.

The nights of passion, the hugs, the pre and post-quidditch game good luck and good job kisses, the play fights, the happiness.

Your life was black and white before you met them, they brought the color.

But they showed you colors they knew you couldn't see with anyone else.

Well, besides your 'best' friends.

Were you really just that? Just friends?

You were a year younger than the Marauders, same year as Regulus.

and Sirius would be so pissed off if he found out that you were sleeping with his brother-

...

Wait.

Who gives a fuck about Sirius?

Who cares what intelligent insult will come out of Remus' mouth?

And James, he liked Regulus once.

They'd hate you.

But,

Maybe you wanted them too.

So, you ended up taking a few shots of firewhiskey.

Okay,

More than a few.

"Um- actually, Reggie. I- I do need something." You slurred, holding onto your sober ex-boyfriends brother best friends nimble shoulders like he was your lifeline.

"Yes, amour?"

"I want a kiss."

Evan spat out his drink back into his cup, and Regulus' face heated up significantly.

"I'll give you a kiss..." Barty clambered over his boyfriends as his cold, veiny hands meet your waist.

His hands skim your body up and down, before pecking your lips softly, as if he was asking for acceptance.

"Can I kiss you?" Barty spoke so softly, he may have been chaotic and insane- but he was extremely cautious and respectable with things like this.

"I-I wanna taste you so bad.." Evan cooed at Barty's sweet words, as he held an extremely flustered Regulus in his arms, watching the scene in front of him unfold.

"Barty- please, kiss me." You mewled, barely finishing your sentence as he dived into your lips.

His lips surprisingly tasted like cherry chapstick, even though he had just been chugging firewhiskey.

After feeling like an eternity, Barty broke your kiss.

"I've wanted to do that since fourth year." He mumbled drunkenly, gazing up stupidly and lovingly at your blush-kissed face.

His kisses were heavenly, and so were Evan's, and Regulus'.

And needless to say, you didn't return back to Pandora that night.

'YOU'RE POINTING AT THE STARS IN THE SKY THAT ALREADY DIED.'

The return to Hogwarts was an awkward one at that.

But returning back to Hogwarts feeling happier than ever with your boyfriends? That was the best return you could make.

Hand in hand with Barty, you strutted into the Great Hall.

Evan and Regulus trailed behind, as you rambled on and on to Barty about something.

James stared your direction, and you unfortunately met his gaze.

He wasn't dense, he could see how your bright smile seemed to dim.

He smiled, softly.

James knew that they'd never get you back the way they had you.

He should've realized that you were the light of their lives.

Everyone should've woken up to see you.

They hurt you.

And this was their price.

They had to watch you thrive, with three other men.

Who would treat you like a goddess, something they never sought time for.

taglist; @hisparentsgallerryy @cultish-corner @asexualbuthorny @prettylittlewrites @champomiel @hellothere7 @anakinsluvrr @lady-balem @awkwardalie @nosteponduck @eeviee4 @dreamygirli3 @navs-bhat @angemyrtille @mrssslangdon @siillly @makanirock05 @hcqwxrtss123 @wolfyychan @nislame @lalalandincraz @rorywright @ih3artpjo @st4r-girl-official @pain-in-the-ashe

[cherryswisherz]

Oh boy I just had a thought of Paige tracking you on find my friends and her being PISSED that you’re not where you’re supposed to be/where she thinks you were going to be AND DRIVES THERE to confront you and the backseat of her car goes crazy after she drags you out of there.

She purposely parked way in the back in a dark corner for a reason, she’s MAD.

FEEL IT

♱ CONTAINS: girlfriends that solve problems with sex

♱ NIYAHSPEAKS: lil request n stuff

"i'm gon make you feel it"

feel it (jacquees ft. lloyd & rich homie quan, 2014)

♱♱♱♱

shitshitshitshitshit

the look in paiges eyes told me all i needed to know. 

that i was royally fucked. she was gonna kill me. 

SHIT.

as she marched me to her car that was parked all the way in the back of the lot, i kept looking at her, trying to read her. to find out what was about to happen. but i couldn't t and that stressed me out even more because paiges face always spoke before she did. 

when we reached her car, i went to open my own door and paige snatched me up, pulling me back into her side. 

"don't piss me off right now bro." she muttered, opening my door for me, as she always did. 

now we were in the car... protected by tinted windows and distance. no one could see or hear us. 

paige didn't start the car. she didn't turn on a light. she didn't speak. it was just silent and dark. 

i heard her take a deep breath and mutter something to herself before turning the ignition, allowing the cars overhead light to come on so i could see her perfect fucking face. 

but my admiration was interrupted by her leveled voice.

"are you out of your fucking. mind?" she asked, turning in her seat so she was looking at me. her hands were folded in between her legs and the leg that wasn't propped up against the seat was tapping. 

i was too nervous to speak. my mouth was dry. my hands were clammy and suddenly the floor of this vehicle was very intriguing. 

but then paige said "it's in your best fucking interest to answer me right now." and i'd miraculously  found the will to activate my vocal chords enough to whisper "no."

"you're not? great. then why the fuck are you all of a sudden lying to me?" her head ticked to the side a little before she continued. "and i'm not saying the fit isn't hard, but why the fuck are you half naked right now?"

her leg tapping got fast to the point the car shook a little and i knew i was in some deeeeep shit. "because i didn't want you to be worried about me." i lied. i didn't tell her because i simply didn't want to. 

i wasn't cheating, or drinking or anything, but i liked doing what i wanted, when i wanted, without anyone's permission and i thought paige would have just told me to stay home or tried to come with me and i needed the time away from her. 

"baby. you're a 5'10 basketball player from fucking inglewood. you're 180 pounds of straight muscle. you have a fucking six pack. when have i ever ben concerned for your fucking safety?" her eyes cut as she leaned over the arm rest. she grabbed my jaw and turned me so i was looking her in the eyes again. "stop lying to me."

"i'm not lying baby." i put the puppy dog eyes on her and tried to butter her up, but it did nothing because her next words made my heart drop to my literal ass. 

"get in the back." her tone was soft, and i could feel her anger as she pulled away from me, opened her door and stepped out of the car. "and take your pants off for me." she said before she shut the door. but rather than getting in the back seat herself, she leaned against the driver door, and pulled out her phone as if this was the most normal night ever and she needed fresh air. 

but wasn't about to see what would happen if wasn't in the back when she returned so i climbed over the armrest and took off my jeans, sitting with my back to the door and my legs across the backseat.

i don't know how long i was waiting for her, but when paige joined me in the back seat, she simply slid in, picked my feet up and placed them in her lap. 

"you know i love you right?" she asked. 

"yeah..." i answered her, confused as hell. "why?"

she didn't answer right away. instead she grabbed my arms, gently pulling me into her lap. her big blue eyes were looking across my face and my spined tingled when she gave me a shit eating grin. "because you've clearly lost your mind, but that's okay because we're about to find it."

"oh?"

"yeah." she nodded, sliding her hands up and down my thighs. "you've been pissing me for the past 30 minutes and now you finna feel it. "

fuck.

she leaned over pulling me down for a kiss that felt more like a battle. our lips fighting against each other, hers winning. 

i started to grind on her lap, trying to get some sort of friction and almost instantly, paige halted all movements, holding her hands at my waist.

i rested my head against hers, my eyes still closed, as i tried to catch my breath. 

"look at me." paige said, raising a brow as she dipped her hand between my legs, drawing her fingers down my wet folds. 

i drew in a visible breath, clenching my jaw as she caressed me in a way that left me with virtually no air left in my lungs.

with her eyes on mine-and mine on hers, i couldn't help the fire that burned onto my cheeks. 

it was the way she was looking at me, and knowing i couldn't look away from her without a particular consequence. 

"tell me why you lied to me." paige suddenly said. 

i furrowed my brows. "i already told you." i forced out breathlessly. 

"that wasn't the truth."

i blinked a few times- inevitably moaning when paige slid a finger into me. 

"it was the truth." i quickly spit out, digging my nails into her covered shoulders. 

paige raised squinted her eyes as they darted between mine, searching for the truth in my lies, "why you keep lying to me mama?" her voice was so calm. calm to the point where it was unsettling. 

"i'm no-" a whimper vibrated in my throat when she slid a second finger into me, "paige." i whine, unconsciously arching into her fingers. 

"why didn't you tell me where were you were going, y/n?" she asked her voice lowered and her stare bore into my soul. 

i realized she wasn't gonna let this go, and it was pointless to keep lying. plus i really wanted to cum and she wasn't gonna let that happen until she had her answer. 

"because and i don't need to be at your hip 24/7. i knew if i told you where i was going you were gonna want to come, or tell me to stay home or-"

i was cut off my my own whimper, feeling paiges pace quicken. 

"oh please. don't stop on my account. keep telling me what you think you know." paige practically laughed, now deepening her strokes.

i clenched my jaw, shaking my head a few times as i desperately tried to get my moans under control. but even when i pressed my lips together, the guttural moans still vibrated in my chest.

especially when paige gripped my hips and guided me deeper into her strokes, causing me to tighten around her. 

"i always thought you were smart, babe," paige murmured, "but now i think you might be one of the stupidest motherfuckers i've ever met." she bit out, making my face grow hot. 

her words should have pissed me off in their insulting nature. but instead i felt a pit form in my stomach. 

a long drawn out moan fell from my lips as soon as my orgasm washed over me, arching entirely into her body as her eyes never left mine. 

"faster." paige demanded. 

i shook my hand like a mad woman "paige-" 

"ride me faster y/n." she cut me short. 

a breathless whimper fell from my lips, suddenly guiding my hips back and forth against her fingers which made my legs tremble on either side of her lap. 

"fuck- i cant," i forced out shaking my head as moan after moan vibrated form my throat. 

paige only guided my hips herself now, quickening my pace even more, curling perfectly into my spot with each grind. 

my face burned under her stare and she never slowed down, only pushing harder into me. 

my second organs hit me like a mac truck. 

"paige" i breathed out, digging deeper into her shoulders as my whole body shook against hers

i thought we were done. i thought she'd taught me whatever lesson she was trying to teach and we were gonna go back to her place and argue some more, but instead she began drilling into me father than before, moving her free hand from my hip and rubbing circles on my clit. 

"oh shit-" i yelled out, trying pushing away from her, my head hitting the back of the driver seat. but my attempt at running didn't deter her, only egged her on as she tugged my shirt up, leaned forward and wrapped her soft lips around my hardened nipple. 

i felt everything and it was all too much. 

her fingers were digging me out, her thumb on my clit had me seeing starts and her tongue swirled around my nipple in a way that just made everything too much. 

not even two minutes later, my jaw dropped and a scream from the pits of my soul fought its way out . i wasn't even shaking, it was like tremors ran through my whole body as i fell apart in my girlfriends lap. 

tears wet my face and a i whined as paige pulled out of me after i'd calmed down a little. she continued rubbing my back and placed a soft kiss to my forehead. 

then she pulled my head off her shoulders and made me look her in the eyes. "all you had to do was tell me you wanted to go out. i hate clubs and i would have understood that you needed some non-relationship related activity. don't lie to me again ma. okay?" her eyes were almost pleading with me in a sense. 

i guess it was the fact that i'd never been in a relationship where proper communication was encouraged, but hearing that made me ache for her all over again.

"okay... but since we're not mad anymore... can we go home for round two?"

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@mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @authentic-girl03

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?” 

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex. 

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.” 

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

A/N:This was requested but I cannot find it anywhere!!! I'm sorry I couldn't tag you :( The request was for a mute reader who wasn't a hero working at the tower. Bob becomes a translator for them!

I do have a few follow-up ideas for this let me know if you're interested in one or both! 1. Bob gets jealous of someone at the tower bc they learned ASL and are taking up more of your time. 2. Soft mutual pining with no jealousy (obviously both could be combined lol)

Summary: Working with the Thunderbolts* is a challenge, especially when you don't speak. Thankfully Bob is there to communicate for you.

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Most of the team barely noticed you when you started at the Tower. You weren’t flashy — no special powers or combat gear. You worked in communications, more in the ground support area of things. It was quiet and precise, the kind of work that kept the mission flowing much smoother.

The only thing that would be labeled as special for you was that you didn't speak.

Which meant in a room full of people who were always busy solving problems you were often overlooked… except by Bob.

Bob usually blended into the background himself. He had a talent for disappearing into a room full of larger personalities. It was Bob who smiled the first time you signed “Nice to meet you.” You didn’t expect him to answer, most people just blinked at you awkwardly and waited for you to get your phone out. But Bob, he softly smiled back, and signed, slowly, clumsy but clearly: “Nice to meet you too.”

You stared back at him in disbelief.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish.

“I uh… picked up ASL a while ago. Long story. You’re the first one here who I can use it with.”

From that day on, everything changed.

You didn’t need to rely on text or nods. You could talk-- actually talk and be understood while Bob happily listened. He was patient and kind. He never made you feel like you were less than or an inconvenience. Whenever meetings got chaotic or everyone at the debriefs skipped you over, Bob would awkwardly clear his throat and voice your thoughts aloud. “She says we need to reroute the signal. It’s already compromised.”

No one else understood what you were telling them, but they started paying attention when Bob spoke. And that made him…proud? It gave him something nothing else did, it gave purpose to his life. He wasn’t just in the background anymore. He was your connection to the team. Your translator. Your voice. He was needed. He was important, he was…valued. He never knew that he was missing out on this feeling but he knew he never wanted to miss it again.

He’d walk into the control room just to see if you needed help. He started to pause during drills to check if you were okay. And you started saving little notes for him on post-its. Inside jokes and little drawings. Doodles of him and a speech bubble: “Best Translator Ever.”

He kept that one on his mirror.

One night, after a long hectic day, you both lingered by the Tower windows, watching the rain streak down the glass. The others had cleared out long ago but the two of you stayed in the peace that always seemed to find you when the two of you were together.

You signed slowly: “Thank you for seeing me.” Bob looked at you, and stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he smiled, it was a soft smile, a little sad, but very warm. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like I wasn’t invisible.”

You reached out and brushed your fingers against his arm, a small gesture that made him suck in a breath, a gesture that said: Me too. And in that silence between signs, Bob realized something: You didn’t need words to say everything that mattered.

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If you like my work please let me know! Reblogging, commenting and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Request are open <3

I have started a taglist for Bob lmk if you'd like to be added <3

@itsjustisa

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

Love you, Doctor.

Synopsis: You and Karina as a married couple with a different professional career.

Word Count: 991

You were a successful engineer—your days spent buried in calculations, blueprints, and job sites. She was a renowned doctor, often running on little sleep and endless patient appointments. Your schedules rarely aligned. Mornings were kisses on the forehead before parting. Nights were soft sighs and half-asleep embraces. But the love? Always steady. Always there.

You glanced at the time on your watch, wiping grease off your hands after adjusting a faulty valve at one of your sites. It was almost noon. You knew she probably hadn’t eaten.

You pulled out your phone.

“How’s my favorite doctor?” you texted, a small smile playing on your lips.

A few minutes later, your screen lit up.

“Hi sweetheart. Still working. Long day already. How about you?”

You could almost hear the exhaustion in her voice just by reading her words.

“Busy too, but I’m good. I’m dropping off your lunch, Doc.”

The reply came quickly.

“Don’t call me that!”

You chuckled, imagining her flustered expression.

“What? You worked hard for that title. I’m proud of you.”

There was a pause before your phone buzzed again.

“Being called love by you… means more than any title this world could ever give me.”

That was her. Tired but tender. Accomplished yet soft. You stared at her message for a second longer than you should have, heart full despite the distance between you.

You drove to the clinic, a warm meal in a paper bag and a note tucked inside.

“Eat well, rest when you can, and remember I love you—with or without the lab coat.”

She found it and messaged you.

“hey sweetheart received the meal you gave me, thank you, see you later, love you engineer.”

“i’m headed home now doc, see ya, I love you more.”

The day ended the way it always should—soft, warm, and full of love. You and Karina sat on the couch, shoulders touching as the glow of the TV lit up your living room. Plates now empty, a half-watched movie marathon playing in the background, your fingers found hers and stayed there. It didn’t matter what movie was on anymore; what mattered was that she was home, and so were you. After a long day of saving lives and solving problems, this was the part you both looked forward to the most—quiet time, together

When it got late, she rested her head on your shoulder, whispering something about how lucky she felt. You kissed the top of her head, whispered back that you felt the same, and the two of you headed to bed, ready to start it all again tomorrow.

Earlier that afternoon, you were wiping sweat from your brow, checking over some client reports when your phone buzzed.

“Surgery about to start. Won’t be able to message you for another 4–5 hours, sweetheart.”

You smiled.

“Good luck, Doc. I’m dropping off your food in about an hour. Want anything specific?”

Thirty minutes later, your screen lit up—not from her, but from someone else.

“Hey Engineer, this is Doc’s assistant. She says steak with a side of veggies. Thanks again!”

“Got it. Appreciate you.” You packed the lunch, extra care in the way you arranged her favorite utensils, and added a small sticky note inside: “Don’t forget to rest. Love you.”

She didn’t see the meal until five hours later. But when she did, her heart melted—again.

“Hey sweetheart, just got to eat. The food was perfect, love you so much, Engineer. Please have a safe ride home.”

You replied almost instantly.

“On the way now, Doc. See you for dinner. Love you even more.”

Even after two years of marriage, your words made her heart race. Her assistant watched her blush, hiding her face behind her clipboard.

“He wrote you another note again?” she asked with a grin.

Karina nodded, cheeks pink. “Yeah… he always does. He just never forgets.”

She tucked the note into her coat pocket, the same way she always did.

“Lucky, should I marry an engineer too, Doc? What do you think?” her assistant teased, nudging her shoulder.

Karina chuckled, still staring at her phone like it was holding a secret only she knew. She looked up with a dreamy sigh.

“If you find someone who makes ordinary days feel this special,” she said, voice soft, “don’t let them go.”

Her assistant raised a brow. “So… that’s a yes?”

Karina smiled, her heart full.

“It’s a forever kind of yes.”

You arrived home, kicked off your shoes, and let the quiet comfort of your place settle in. Without thinking, your fingers were already typing.

“Hey Doc, just got home. Can’t wait for our dinner. Love you, take care.”

You hit send and smiled, already picturing her reaction. You knew she’d probably read it between patient charts or right after washing up from surgery, but no matter how tired she was—your messages never failed to make her heart flutter.

After an hour or two your phone buzzed.

“Hey love, just finished look at my new eyewear.”

+1 Attachment

you were speechless and was drowning in your own flustered state, no matter how long you two have been married for, she’s as beautiful as the day that you met her.

[gdinthehouseee]

Bridge The Gap: CHOI SU-BONG x READER

summary: after another sleepless night, you find su-bong out alone and you offer him a place to stay… even if you don't know each other that well. not yet, at least.

word count: 4343

tags: fluff, light angst, no games au, reader smokes

ao3 link

It was another one of those nights. Another night where you had accidentally stayed up throughout most of the night, so now, trying to sleep—while the city started waking up and beginning their day—was a hopeless venture. Another night that ended up with you doom-scrolling through every social media you had on your phone, the fan in the corner barely reaching you with a blanket half strewn over your body, half practically melting onto the floor. 

Damn it. 

You figured maybe an extremely early morning snack run would help. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but was there really any point in sleeping now? At least you could stay up, and turn in early later on in hopes of fixing your sleep schedule, right?

Feeling the unusually warm night air on your bare arms, you decided to take a more scenic route. It’s not like you were doing anything important, and you had nothing to do when the sun really did rise. In fact, it was a much needed walk. If only these late night/early morning strolls could solve all of your problems. Just as you were thinking about the irony of it all, you made it onto the bridge and spotted a familiar figure—

“Su-bong?”

You would recognise his lean figure and purple hair anywhere, even when the only lighting is coming from some distant streetlamps. Leaning over the safety rail, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard your voice calling his name out. The tension was radiating off his body—well, based on what you could see under his neon green t-shirt that was a little too baggy for him. The usual fruity vape he carried everywhere was replaced by a regular cigarette. 

Everything about this sight screamed something was wrong. Very wrong. Although, you weren’t entirely sure how to approach the topic without feeling like you were overstepping. You ran in the same circles. Friends of friends. Enough for nods at parties, a clinked beer bottle here and there, the occasional shared laugh from across a room. But you’d never really talked. Not when you had only exclusively seen him at loud house parties and even louder nightclubs.

“Didn’t think anyone else was stupid enough to be out at this hour,” he murmured, dragging from his cigarette. This was the quietest you had ever heard him. His voice was lower at night. Rougher.

You gave a weak smile, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded once, eyes drifting back to the water. “Yeah. Me neither.”

You stood beside him, not too close. Just enough to show you weren’t afraid of the silence. After a beat, you glanced sideways at him. 

“You should probably head home. It can be dangerous out here.”

He let out a small snort. Not a laugh—more like a breath that wanted to be one and didn’t quite make it.

“Yeah,” he said, quietly. “Thing is…”

He flicked ash over the railing, pausing like he had to decide how honest he wanted to be.

“…Home’s not really an option anymore.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

He turned his head, gave you this lazy smile like he was about to say something casual—but his eyes didn’t match it.

“Got myself kicked out.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Oh.”

He gave you a slow once-over, eyes dragging from your loose t-shirt down to the worn-out sneakers on your feet, like he was trying to decide whether to take you seriously or just brush off whatever was going on so he didn’t have to feel guilty for taking up your time. His head tilted slightly, studying you. Then, like flipping a switch, the corner of his mouth lifted into that familiar smirk, the kind that usually meant he was about to say something infuriating, or worse—charming on purpose. But there was a flicker of something else under it, too. Something tired. Grateful. Like maybe your offer had hit a little deeper than he wanted to admit.

“Don’t look so concerned, sweetheart. I’m not about to throw myself in the river.”

You frowned. “I wasn’t— That’s not what I thought.”

“I just didn’t feel like pretending I had somewhere else to be.” He clarified, almost proud of himself for catching you off-guard. 

You didn’t know what to say at first. Part of you wanted to scold him for making a joke out of something that was clearly hurting him more than he was letting on. The other part just wanted to offer him a blanket and a safe place to crash, even if you didn’t truly know each other. Not yet, at least. You blurted out the first thing you could think of. 

“Do you wanna come to mine?”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“Just to crash,” you added, stumbling. “You can have the couch. And I have those spicy ramyeon cups everyone likes. And heat. I mean… it’s better than standing out here all night.”

He stared at you for a long moment, then leaned back on his heels, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

“You always invite sad boys off bridges into your home, or am I just special?”

You rolled your eyes, but your ears burned a little. “Don’t make it weird.”

He smiled—softly this time, no smirk. Just something tired and appreciative flickering behind it.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

The walk to your place was quiet, but not heavy. Su-bong kept pace just behind your shoulder, his steps slower than yours, like he wasn’t in a hurry to get anywhere—even if he had nowhere else to go. His hands stayed deep in his cargo pockets, and every so often you’d hear the quiet tap of his supposedly limited edition sneakers on the pavement or the soft sigh of his breath.

“You always take this route?” He asked suddenly, his voice low, rough with disuse or maybe just his natural tone.

You glanced over. “Yeah. It’s quiet. And there’s a convenience store that makes decent pastries if you catch it before 6AM.”

“Huh.” He nodded slightly. “Didn’t think you were the late night wandering type.”

You shrugged. “Didn’t think you were the quiet, thinking type.”

That earned you a faint smirk. “Fair enough.”

You walked in comfortable silence for a few more streets. The city was soft at this hour—neon lights buzzing like lullabies and apartment windows glowing like tiny stories you’d never get to read. You weren’t sure why you weren’t more nervous. Maybe it was the hour. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t once tried to act cool about what he was going through, even if he was trying to laugh it off.

When you reached the front of your building, you slowed to a stop and glanced at him again, thumb hesitating near the key code.

“You sure?” You asked. “I meant it when I said you could crash, but… if it’s weird or whatever—”

He gave a soft scoff, barely shaking his head as he stepped closer, gaze flicking between the building and you.

“I mean, let’s see—sleep on the street or sleep in a pretty girl’s place,” he drawled, lips curling. “Doesn’t seem like a hard decision, does it?”

You rolled your eyes, but your face warmed anyway. “You’re lucky I feel bad for you.”

“Oh, don’t ruin the fantasy,” he murmured, grin widening as he leaned lazily against the wall beside the entrance.

You punched in the code, trying not to let him see you smile too hard. The door clicked open with a soft beep, and you led the way up the short flight of stairs to your apartment. You could feel him behind you, not looming, exactly, but present—quiet in a way that still took up space.

Inside, the warmth of your place hit immediately. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was yours. Soft lighting, a few half-filled bookshelves, a small couch with a throw blanket tossed across the back, and a faint scent of something clean—lavender, maybe, or laundry detergent. Su-bong stood just inside the door for a moment, his hands still in his pockets as he scanned the space. His eyes lingered on a stack of records by the shelf, the open notebook on your coffee table, the slippers by the door that didn’t match.

“Didn’t expect your place to feel like this,” he said eventually, not looking at you.

You raised a brow as you slipped off your shoes. “Like what?”

He shrugged, stepping further in. “Like… someone actually lives here.”

You snorted. “Wow. Thanks.”

He gave a low chuckle and kicked off his shoes without being asked, leaving them neatly by the door. You could tell he was trying not to seem like he was looking for a place to land, but his eyes kept flicking to the couch, the floor cushions, anywhere he might sit without intruding. Had the context not been depressing, you would have found it cute.

“Sit wherever,” you said, heading into the small kitchen nook. “I’m gonna make something hot. You want tea? Or like… sad instant noodles?”

“Sad noodles,” he said immediately, settling onto the edge of the couch. “Tea feels too well-adjusted.”

You laughed under your breath, pulling down a couple of ramen bowls. “Sad noodles it is.”

Behind you, you could hear him shifting, the soft creak of the couch as he leaned back just a little. He didn’t talk while the water boiled—just watched the way you moved in your space, like he was still trying to piece together who you were outside of mutual friends and party lighting.

When you handed him the steaming bowl a few minutes later, he took it with both hands.

“Thanks,” he said, voice softer now. Less performative.

You sat down a cushion away from him, tucking your legs under yourself and blowing on your own noodles.

Neither of you said anything right away, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… still. Like maybe this was the first time in a long while someone had made space for him to be quiet.

The noodles were too hot, but neither of you complained.

Su-bong ate like someone who hadn’t had a warm meal in longer than he’d admit, slurping with none of his usual smugness. It made you weirdly protective—like maybe the cocky front was wearing thin now that he was off the street and under soft lighting with food in his hands.

You didn’t talk for a while. The silence stretched, not tense, just heavy with the kind of calm that only comes around after sunrise. You glanced over once to find him staring into his bowl, chopsticks paused midair, like he’d forgotten what he was doing.

“You always wander around bridges at night?” You asked quietly, nudging the silence just a little.

“Only when I get kicked out of places.”

You blinked, pausing mid-bite. His tone was flat—too casual, like he’d said it a hundred times. But his eyes stayed fixed on his own bowl like he didn’t want to see your reaction.

“…Your mother?” You asked gently.

He nodded once. “Got tired of my shit, I guess.”

The way he said it was light, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you caught the way his knee bounced slightly. You didn’t try to force sympathy into the air. That wasn’t what he needed right now. Instead, you nudged his shoulder with yours, just enough to make him glance over.

“Well,” you said, in a tone just as casual as his, “my place isn’t fancy, but you’re not sleeping outside. So congrats. You’ve been upgraded to shitty couch privileges.”

That pulled a small, tired laugh from him—barely there, but real. He looked over at you, then back down at the nearly-empty bowl in his lap.

“…Thanks,” he said again, quieter this time. But then, after a beat, he added, almost like he didn’t mean to out loud, “You didn’t have to do all this.”

Your eyes flicked over to him. He didn’t look at you when he said it. And something about the way his voice dropped just slightly made your chest ache.

You set your bowl down on the coffee table and leaned back on your palms, giving him space to breathe. “I know I didn’t,” you said. “But I wanted to.”

That was it. No big emotional speech. No digging deeper than he was ready for. For a second, he just sat there, looking at the floor like he was trying to figure out how to process being wanted anywhere. Then he let out a slow breath and leaned back beside you, bowl balanced loosely in one hand, the other resting in his lap.

“Your couch better be as soft as your heart,” he mumbled.

“I take it back. Go sleep on the bridge.” You joked, certainly not meaning it. 

He smiled and this time, it didn’t feel like a mask. It just felt like him.

After the food, the calm settled deeper. Su-bong didn’t seem in a rush to stand, and you didn’t push him. But eventually, you rose and stretched, giving him a small smile as you made your way to the hallway closet. He stayed on the couch, eyes following you this time, quieter than before. You came back with a pillow and a thick grey blanket—well-worn but clean, the kind you always ended up pulling out when nights got too cold. You handed it to him without a word, letting him take it from your arms. He held the blanket for a second, fingers brushing over the edges like he didn’t know what to do with something soft.

“I’ll grab you some clothes if you want,” you offered, thumb hooked toward your room.

He shook his head, still staring at the fabric in his lap. “This is… fine.”

You nodded, hesitating as you watched him unfold the blanket and start to spread it over the couch like someone who didn’t quite believe it was meant for him.

“You okay?” You asked softly.

He didn’t answer right away. Just leaned back and looked up at the ceiling like he might find something there to anchor him.

“Yeah, just… forgot what this felt like.”

You swallowed, chest tightening a little.

“You don’t have to talk,” you said gently. “Not tonight. Just rest.”

He looked at you then—really looked—and for a second, his whole face softened. There was something in his eyes, some unspoken thought sitting right on the tip of his tongue. You could see him almost say it. Almost let it fall. But instead, he just gave a faint smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and said, “You’re nicer than you look, you know.”

You smirked. “I have my moments, I guess.”

That earned a genuine laugh, quiet and low.

You turned to head toward your room, the smile still tugging at your lips. But as you walked away, you felt his gaze still on you—heavy, lingering, like he wasn’t ready for the silence to swallow the space you left behind. Like part of him was afraid that when he woke up, it would all be gone again. At your bedroom door, you paused, hand resting on the frame.

“If you need anything,” you said over your shoulder, “I’m just down the hall.”

“Yeah… okay.”

But you heard the way his voice dipped again. Like he already needed something, but didn’t know how to ask for it yet.

Su-bong managed to get a couple hours of some light rest, chalking it down to the fact he had never been here before. Not just physically, at your place, but he had never felt so low before. Never felt more helpless. He hated it. But he was too tired to pretend like he was fine. Too closed off to directly ask for help. Yet, he realised, if there was anyone in your shared circle of friends to offer help without tearing into him or expecting something in return, it would be you. 

He saw it in the way you looked after the people who had exceeded their limits at the many parties you’ve both attended, whether it be holding back a girl’s hair as she threw up into the toilet bowl and making sure she got home safe, or ensuring the people weren’t alone if they got paranoid after taking hallucinogens. It has always been you.

Hours later, when Su-bong stirred, the first thing he registered was the warmth.

A strange kind of warmth—not stifling like too many layers, or sharp like heat trapped in a subway tunnel. This was gentle. Still. The kind of warmth that soaked into skin without asking for anything back. It curled around him under the weight of the blanket, wrapped in the scent of detergent and something faintly floral. Yours, he guessed.

His senses returned one by one. The couch beneath him, lumpy in places but leagues better than concrete. The dull ache in his shoulder from sleeping in one position too long. The faint murmur of the city beyond the windows—cars humming in the distance, a dog barking half-heartedly down the block.

And then—

Cigarette smoke.

Soft. Fresh. Just enough to ghost through the cracked window above the balcony door, curling into the living room like it belonged there. He blinked slowly, the light already different. The kind of light that only came just before sunrise—cool and blue near the floor, streaks of warm gold bleeding across the ceiling like brushstrokes. He didn’t move right away. Just lay there, eyes on the slanted light, letting the silence press against his ribs.

Eventually, he sat up. The blanket slipped from his shoulders, pooling in his lap, and he scrubbed a hand over his face, palm dragging along the stubble on his jaw. His hair was a mess. His t-shirt clung to one side of his neck with sleep-sweat, and his mouth was dry. But he moved anyway, quiet as he padded toward the balcony, bare feet brushing against cool floorboards.

Through the glass, he saw you.

You were perched on the narrow ledge of the balcony railing, one foot tucked up, the other dangling over the side. Your hoodie swallowed your frame, sleeves pushed up to your elbows, a single lit cigarette balanced between your fingers. The smoke swirled around your wrist in slow, lazy spirals, catching the pink edges of dawn like it was part of the sky itself.

You didn’t look tense.

You looked… far away.

He opened the door with a soft click, the cool morning air slipping in as he stepped outside.

“You smoke?” He asked, voice rough with sleep.

You didn’t jump. Just glanced over your shoulder and offered the faintest shrug.

“Sometimes…”

He hummed, stepping out fully onto the balcony beside you. The railing creaked under your shifting weight, and he caught the way your eyes returned to the horizon, smoke curling from your mouth on an exhale.

“Didn’t peg you for it,” he said, leaning against the wall just beside the railing. “Thought you were all herbal tea and incense.”

You cracked a small smile, still looking ahead. “Depends on the day.”

He let out a quiet breath, the corner of his mouth twitching. The cigarette burned between your fingers, the tip glowing orange in the pale morning. He didn’t reach for it. Not yet. He just watched you. Watched the way the early light caught in your lashes. The way your expression softened when you weren’t aware of being seen. You looked a little tired, sure—but something about you in this light, at this hour, with no noise and no walls up.

It made his chest ache in a strange, unplaceable way.

And maybe it was the fog of sleep still clinging to his mind. Or maybe it was something else entirely. But for once, Su-bong didn’t try to fill the silence. He just stood there beside you, watching the city stretch awake beneath a soft pink sky, and wondered why it suddenly didn’t feel so bad to stay still.

You didn’t speak right away. Just took another drag, slow and even, exhaling toward the street below like you were releasing a thought you didn’t want to say out loud. Beside you, Su-bong shifted—just enough to reach, fingers brushing yours as he took the cigarette from between them. His touch was unhurried, deliberate, like he was giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to.

You didn’t.

He brought it to his lips, eyes fixed on the skyline as he inhaled.

“Not bad,” he muttered, smoke curling from the edge of his mouth. “I figured if you smoked, it’d be some overpriced imported shit that burns out in two pulls.”

“That was very specific.”

“Yeah, well. I have opinions.”

He turned slightly toward you now, leaning his shoulder against the wall, one arm crossed over his chest while the other held the cigarette loosely at his side. The air between you was light, but not empty. There was something weightier beneath it—unspoken but present. A mutual awareness. A kind of closeness born from the quiet, from the softness of being seen in the early hours, before either of you could armour back up.

He passed the cigarette back. But instead of pulling his hand away, his knuckles lingered near yours.

“You always up like this?” He asked.

You glanced at him, smoke slipping between your lips as you tilted your head. “Could ask you the same thing.”

“Guess I’m not the only insomniac with poor coping mechanisms.”

The corner of your mouth twitched. “Wouldn’t call sharing a cigarette with a half-asleep bad boy my usual routine, no.”

“Bad boy, huh?” He raised a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes. “What gave it away? The chain, or the crippling emotional repression?”

You laughed—quiet, but real.

He watched you for a moment, eyes softening just a fraction.

“...Thanks,” he said suddenly, voice a little rougher now. “For letting me crash. I mean it.”

You didn’t tease him for the shift in tone. Didn’t deflect. You just nodded once, offering him the cigarette again. He took it—maybe a little closer this time. The silence stretching warm and full between you both now, as the sun finally began to crest the edge of the city.

After he handed the cigarette back and you took the last pull, you stubbed the cigarette out, flicking it into the ashtray with a little click before leaning both arms on the balcony rail. The city was slowly warming to life in the soft blush of dawn, but you were still in the quiet part of the morning—the part where the streets were mostly empty and everything felt like a secret.

Beside you, Su-bong stretched, his shoulder brushing yours as he let out a slow breath. You didn’t look at him when you spoke.

“…If you don’t have anywhere else to go, you could stay here for a while,” you said, voice calm. Unassuming. “At least until you figure things out. You don’t have to keep sleeping on benches or couches or wherever.”

There was a pause—too long to be casual.

“Ah, so you’re saying you do want me around,” he drawled, smirk sliding back into place like it never left. “Was wondering how long it’d take before you cracked.”

You glanced at him, unimpressed. “Wow. And here I was, thinking this was a genuine offer.”

“Oh, it’s very genuine,” he said, turning toward you. “But now I’m starting to suspect you’ve got ulterior motives.”

“Like what?”

He leaned in slightly, eyes flicking over your face. “Maybe you just want to watch me walk around your apartment shirtless.”

“Right. That must be it.” You retorted, sarcasm practically dripping from your voice.

“Can’t blame you,” he added, smug. “I’m great morning entertainment. Better than coffee.”

You tried to hide your smile. Failed. “Do you ever stop flirting?”

“Only when I’m sleeping. Maybe.”

The teasing should’ve irritated you. But instead, it just felt like… him. A wall made of charm, built fast and wide to keep things at a safe distance. So you stayed quiet for a moment, watching the street far below. When you spoke again, your tone was softer. Quieter.

“I meant it, Su-bong. You don’t have to keep pretending like it’s all fine.”

He blinked, and though the smirk didn’t disappear entirely, something gentler curled at the edges of it. “Didn’t realize I was pretending.”

“You joke when you’re uncomfortable.”

“You psychoanalysing me now?”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” you said, nudging his elbow with yours. “Seriously. You can stay. We’ll go to the store later, pick up whatever you need. Toothbrush, clothes, snacks. Maybe even a boring mug to match mine.”

He looked at you, really looked, and for a second you saw it—how close he was to brushing it off again. Making another comment. Putting the mask right back on. But he didn’t. Instead, he let his hand drop to his side, fingers twitching like they wanted something to do. “You’re dangerous,” he murmured, voice low.

“Why?”

“Because I like being around you,” he said, and there was no smirk this time. Just honesty, surprisingly bare. “Too damn much.”

You tried not to let your breath hitch. “That’s not dangerous.”

He tilted his head. “Not to you, sweetheart.”

You looked at him for a long second before reaching for the sliding glass door. “Come on, Shakespeare. Let’s get you inside before you start reciting poetry.”

He chuckled and followed you in, slower this time. When he passed by, he dipped close enough for his breath to skim your ear.

“You sure you’re ready for me to stick around?” He murmured, voice like silk.

You didn’t flinch.

“You sure you’re ready for someone who gives a shit?” You shot back without missing a beat.

That stopped him in his tracks. Just for a second. And then he smiled—smaller than before, softer.

“…Guess we’re about to find out.”

lmk if you'd like to be added or removed now that im making squid game fics too

taglist: @mirahyun @riddlerloveb0t @onyxmango @sherrayyyyy @seunghyunwifey @mattsturniolosbabymama @redhoodedtoad @bettelaboure @cinnamonbear22 @xxxicddbr88 @infinetlyforgotten @babygirlewis @loveesiren @tulentiy @babyrvis @ldydeath @wcnderlands @eru-vande @breakmeoff @petersasteria @aizshallnotbefound @sevendaysummer @ttturnitup @mashtatosworld @ilovethe141 

[matcha-flavored-cake]

collegeboy!xiao hcs

‧₊˚໑ xiao x fem reader, smut, mentions of pussy (run), mentions of sex as a prize, dumbification if you squint?

‧₊˚໑ college boy xiao is so hot I wish boys went to college

There was that one boy in your class, his name was Xiao

He was rarely seen in class, but somehow he always managed to pass his subjects and get high marks on his exams.

You on the other hand needed help urgently, or you would fail in this damn tech subject. Technology was never your big strenght anyway but you needed help and your teacher of course recommended that you take classes with the best student in the class: Xiao

The problem was that he barely showed up to classes, and even if the teacher asked him to help you, it looked like he was avoiding you on purpose, that fucker

So you had to chase him all over the fucking campus to his dorm

And it was exactly what he wanted

Xiao was far from the nerd cliché you thought you would find. And for a moment you thought you’ve mistaken the dorm number but nope here he is. All pretty in black with piercings and a black and aqua green hair

Knowing you needed him, he wasn’t going to pass the opportunity to hear yours “please Xiao, i really need your help” with oh so much desperation and pouty lips, it made his cock twitch in his pants.

But Xiao was so so nice, of course he would help you! right?

With a look of forced disinterest he agreed to help you, making you feel relieved and grateful, promising to give him anything he wanted.

That's how you started taking classes with Xiao

He always had light reddish makeup around the corners of his eyes. And you always felt his gaze upon you, wondering if you had understood the confusing sequence of codes he had taught you.

Xiao had a curious habit of scheduling study sessions at unholy hours of the night, saying that was when he had the most time. Little did you know he liked the idea of having you in his room at that time of night with the small amount of light he let into the room.

Despite being sharp on the ends, Xiao always seemed to be patient, explaining the same thing as many times as needed, although he did give you light punishments like extra homework (which made you stay in his dorm for longer time)

He was always close to you in some way, he had managed to clean a part of his big pc desk so you could study while he was doing freelance work or doing college assignments. His hand always resting on your thigh as he sighed to take a few breaks and throw his neck back, his adam's apple, going up and down when chugging some energy drink making you feel a sudden heat and go back to solving exercises before he noticed you were looking

When Xiao gave you tutoring outside his dorm (which was rare) he always wore comfortable and big clothes with long sleeves which made you think he was always ready to sleep anywhere, when in fact he wore baggy clothes so you wouldn't notice how hard he was in his pants seeing you in the shortest skirts known to mankind

You always liked the way Xiao spoke, his low but confident voice when he explained something to you, and the way he smiled when you got the answers right, saying he would give you a prize for it. His lip piercings make you want to kiss him and god know how much times you've imagined his tongue piercing rubbing on your clit

His nails were always painted, usually black and decorated with thick rings that adorned the thin, stupidly long fingers he used to type and play so quickly. You always watched closely when he gripped his desk when the big words of “defeat” appeared on his pc screen. Oh how you wanted his grip on your thighs

He always took you back to your dorm, saying it would be dangerous for you to go out alone.

As you grew closer, study nights turned into game nights. He had a habit of coming up behind you to teach you how to play, talking close to your ear which keys you had to press to use the character's ultimate on screen.

Xiao started attending classes a little more, always sitting next to you. His hand resting on your thighs, sometimes ghosting next to your crotch

You were so cute, dropping your defenses low like that. And so dumb for not logging out of his computer, I mean he thought about hacking your pc a bunch of times yes, but he is a gentleman he wouldn’t do that. But now that you just offered your info on a silver plate for him... oh well.

Imagine the surprise on his face when he took a look at your search history and finding porn there

“Seems like our perfect student has some dirty secrets huh?” he mumbled

Such a dumb girl not even using the icognito mode

He spend a good bit of the night looking at your preferences tho, a ghost of a smile on his face when he saw how many times the words ‘gamer boy’, ‘emo’ and ‘nerd’ appeared on the adult site

Oh well if you had such a wish who was he to not comply? After all he agreed to teach you for your test didn’t he? What a tutor would he be if he didn’t show you how good he can actually fuck you?

You did say you would give anything he wanted if he helped you anyway. And your pussy would be the perfect prize.

@matcha-flavored-cake © • DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST

[doctorho]

Constellations

hiii guys!! i got this ask about the idea of Viktor with a reader who has some visible moles and Viktor gets...curious. About the possibility of there being more of them. so then i wrote this. 2k(ish) words, gender neutral reader, no warnings. alcohol mentioned but only in like a "there's a party and viktor has a cocktail" type of way, no heavy drinking involved. i like writing the fancy academy parties, what can i say. here you go!!

Viktor is nothing if not curious. And – well. Observant. It comes with the territory of navigating life in Piltover as a Zaunite, and doubly so as a disabled Zaunite that was now a semi-public figure deeply involved in the businesses and inner workings of Piltover. 

Being observant was useful, both when working on uncovering the still-veiled mysteries of the universe and when keeping track of social exchanges at formal events. It was as much a carefully wielded tool as it was a well-honed survival skill, developed over the years as someone on the sidelines. 

And being curious – well. That was just a deep-rooted facet of Viktor's existence. The day he'd stop wanting to look at the world just a bit more closely, to understand it a bit more deeply, to turn over one more problem, that would be the day that he'd stop breathing. That was just how he was. 

It's what landed him a place at the Academy in the first place, and it's what kept him going. 

It's also what's landed him in the current mess that he was in. 

(It was, truth be told, what landed him in most of the messes he found himself in. Well, that, or his rather exploratory problem solving habits, but what was a little trial and error without some error? Besides, if you were going to fail at something, it was best to fail fast and hard, as efficiently as possible, for the best results). 

This, however? This was different. This was a mess he hadn't anticipated. 

See, he's - he's at the lab most days. He doesn’t exactly seek out social gatherings, unless presented with a very intriguing premise. He's not anti-social, per se, but he simply stays out of other people's business when he can, he focuses on his work, and that's that. But then – then. 

Then you off-handedly mention that even though most of the people of Piltover seemed to think of moles and freckles as flaws, as imperfections, you were trying to think of yours as the unique markings that they were, but it was difficult to ignore the external pressure to always be on the lookout for another flaw to feel self-conscious over. And then you're turning your arm in the air slowly, examining in the late afternoon light in front of the window at the lab, and Viktor's noticed the moles scattered over your skin before, of course, he's noticed them the same way he's noticed the swirls of ice crystals forming in the windows and the specs of dust glittering in a sunbeam on the floor – the moles are exactly what you say they are, he thinks, unique markings, something that made a person more interesting to look at. And he'd known that the people of Piltover had some...questionable opinions on beauty standards, on imperfections, but… 

Viktor didn't agree with them. 

“Would you consider the stars in the night sky as imperfections?” he asks, lowering the soldering iron he'd been holding, scraping down excess solder residue onto the pad under the heating station, and slowly turning to look at you with a carefully raised eyebrow when you don't immediately respond. 

“That's not really the same thing, is it.” You answer eventually, leaning back on your chair. 

“Isn't it?” 

“I don't illuminate anything, for one.”

“Details,” he counters, with a wave of his hand, then reaches into one of the drawers on his desk to retrieve pliers. “Besides, the sky is often pictured with inverted colors for convenience. With the stars as dark dots.”  

“Really?”

He hums in answer, leaning back over his project, holding his newly formed connection up to his eye level, inspecting it. 

“Huh,” you answer, lifting your arm over to the fading sunlight again. “Yeah, you could probably make a few constellations out of these.” 

And Viktor makes the mistake of looking over, because – while he truly had meant his analogy innocently, as just a supporting honest notion, the golden sunlight is hitting you now and that makes you as luminous as any collection of stars, and he has to force himself to look away before he gets caught staring. He exhales slowly and turns over the piece he was working on, for no particular reason – he already knew the connections were perfect – “Yes,” he agrees, “you probably could.”

He would have no professional explanation for staring, so he turns over the part he was holding one more time. 

This does not mean he won't steal a glance at opportune moments, when you're too busy to notice. Because he is intrigued now, and it's bad enough that he already thought you were beautiful, and worse than that, interesting to look at, and really, that was it. He was doomed. Done for. Utterly, irrevocably hooked, and what else was he supposed to do? Not be curious about this new aspect presented to him? Yeah, not likely. If he'd do that, he wouldn't be Viktor. 

He knew he'd wanted to get closer to you before, to touch you, he'd just…ignored it for convenience, shelved it under figure out later - too complicated for now.

The feeling seemed to have grown in hibernation. 

The metaphor stays in his mind, whirring in the background as he tries to go on with his day. But he keeps noticing it, noticing you, getting stuck watching the little specks on your skin disappear up your sleeves and into the collar of your overshirt, and he is itching to know what kind of constellations he could trace out of them. 

And then– then, the days just keep piling up on top of each other and Viktor keeps stealing glances and having annoyingly, frustratingly vague dreams about removed shirts and whispered sighs and too-light touches, and he keeps showing up to the lab pretending everything was normal and fine and totally under perfect control, all business as usual over on his side. Did the new shipment arrive already?

And then the Academic Year's Open Ceremony comes around, and Viktor did not account for the non-Academy-issued outfit that you would be wearing, even though he probably should have expected it. But foresight was not one of his talents, so when he'd agreed to go, he had not thought about the low lights and deep-cut necklines and what the champagne buzz in his head would do to his self-control. To the rational thinking that was usually his lifeline. To his imagination.

Now that was all he could think about. 

There was a champagne flute in one of his hands, and the other was gripping the handle of his cane slightly too hard. It would make his joints ache soon, but that would be a problem for future him. Perhaps even a nice little distraction from the torture of watching you in your glamorous getup, smiling and talking with someone, while he was merely pretending to be listening to the conversation he was in. 

Viktor nods at what he thinks are the correct moments (or at least, close enough), but his eyes remain glued to where you were standing. 

He hadn't seen you in clothes that revealing before, and he was taking this as a free research opportunity. His eyes trace over your skin, mapping the new-to-him pattern of moles and freckles, and something greedy at the bottom of his stomach wants to trace them with his fingers, too. And he knows that's inappropriate, especially while someone was lecturing him about the future of the Academy, but honestly, he didn't care. His train of thought was currently only about one heartbeat long, and the thing purring at the bottom of his stomach was getting louder, hungrier, needier, it was crawling up his spine, up the back of his neck, making him feel breathless, and he has to close his eyes just to re-calibrate his brain and breathe. 

He could not fathom how the Piltovians could see such marks as imperfections. They were like art, and Viktor would much rather spend his time looking at something interesting than something over-polished any day.

With the patterns he can see on your skin, he has theories about what must be on the parts he can't see, and he likes it. Not so much that he wouldn't like to make sure of his theories one way or the other – he was flexible, and open to being proved wrong, more than willing to gather more information on this. He takes a sip of his drink and his fingers flex over the handle of his cane and he exhales a tense sigh, and forces himself to look at his supposed conversation partner for a moment again as you lean your head back in a sparkling laugh. 

Torture. It was torture, pure and simple. Honey-thick and sweet as molasses, but torture all the same. 

Your skin glistens in the low golden lights of the party, and Viktor stares. You cleaned up nicely, and nothing about your outfit was inappropriate in itself, but his imagination was more than enough to change that. And he is aching to somehow warp the situation so that it was just you and him and just enough of the golden light to see by. The champagne could stay, and the music, but the band was on thin ice - they would have to be in a different room and preferably on the other side of a locked door. Viktor didn't appreciate interruptions, even in his imagination. He didn't like most of the people attending the party on a good day, and he definitely didn't like them now.

He takes a breath, fixes his posture, and takes another breath. Reminds himself of the reality he was in; the role he was playing. Five-year-plan. Yes. The Academy was getting a research grant from the Council. How nice.

The longer the night stretches on, the more his restraint stretches with it, and it was starting to wear thin. The reasoning he'd done with himself earlier about why he should stay away was starting to feel fickle – convenience? Had that really been his best selling point? What had he been thinking? 

It was itching at the back of his mind, the wrongness of forcing himself to pretend he didn't want to get closer, didn't want to go up and compliment you, to see you smile, to steal the privilege of your company for as long as he could, hopefully for the rest of the night. And currently, he was having a hard time convincing himself that the simplicity and convenience of keeping things how they had been before was worth it.

The sun had set hours ago, and the tall windows were starting to let in starlight, and when he finally gets a moment alone with you, it's while you're looking up at the sky, leaning over at a slightly awkward angle to be able to see as much of the sky as possible. 

He looks at you there for a moment, and takes a slow, deep breath. And then he walks to your side. 

If he was going to fail at this, he was going to fail fast and hard. Efficiently. And hopefully with minimal damage.

"Personally," he says calmly, "I prefer the view out there."

You turn to look at him, and he pretends to be totally casual and cool and collected and not nervous at all.

You look out the window again, and then, hum in agreement. "Unfortunately, I prefer the temperature in here." You answer with a small sigh and a half shrug, and now, Viktor turns to look at you.

Because now, now this was a problem that he had a solution for. 

He hmms in answer, and does a little double check in his head; yes, the upper levels of the building should be empty. The working staff was all here and the students were home. Should be vacant.

Viktor smiles a little. “How fortunate, then,” he says quietly, conspiratorially, “that we have an observatory tower.” 

For a single second, you look surprised. And then you blink, and a smile spreads over your lips. 

He raises an eyebrow. 

“I assume you have the keys?” 

Viktor shrugs nonchalantly. 

You grin and grab his hand, already moving towards the exit. “What are we waiting for, then?”