#this is so bad im sorry lmao

[undiscovered-horizon]

Imagine one of the prospects hitting on you.

The clock behind the bar ticks but it's not audible over the music playing in the background. It wouldn't matter much even if it was - it shows the wrong time. The dust on its glass cover lays in a decently thick layer, similar to at least a dozen bottles on the shelf behind the bar.

You're slowly sipping on your drink. All the ice has already melted making the beverage taste mostly like an old freezer and tap water but you don't mind it, really. It is, after all, just a way to pass the time waiting for Jax to show up. Although you're not fond of that, you've grown used to it. Considering his line of business, there's not much he can do about it.

And there's not much you can do aside from waiting.

"Whatcha' doin' here all alone, doll?"

The voice belongs to a tall, lean man leaning against the bar just a few feet from you. He has chiselled features and well-kempt hair as though he mostly sits around. The leather vest he's wearing looks worn out and reused. A small patch on the front says "Prospect". His left forearm is covered with a tattoo of a mountain lion.

"Actually, I'm waiting for someone," you answer politely. To be fair, prospects hardly ever talk to you.

"Here?" he looks around the deteriorating and completely deserted clubhouse. "Must be a real gentleman to make ya wait on him, darlin'," he says sarcastically. A dry chuckle leaves his lips.

You furrow your eyebrows. "I'm so-"

Someone behind you puts a hand around you, the arm lays heavy on your shoulders. The mixture of sweat, motor oil and cologne is all too familiar.

"You can bet your ass he ain't," you hear Jax answer. You can't see his face, so you can only imagine the cold stare he surely has on his face. "Ready to go?" he turns to you.

"Sure thing." Leaving the warm drink unfinished and wetting the counter, you get up from the stool and let Jax guide you towards the door.

But then he stops with his face maybe a palm's length away from the prospect. Jax chuckles quietly, although his eyes show nothing resembling amusement. The prospect stares at him expressionless, if a little reluctant.

"This better be the last time," Jax warns him. To put him down another peg, he pats the man's face in a condescending manner.

Without waiting for the prospect's answer, the two of you leave the clubhouse, off to continue whatever plans you have for today.

[lilybug-02]

Bribed with Chocolate. The way it should be.

Part 22 || First || Previous || Next

--Full Series--

More to come as this is a two-parter. But you know how I am with schedules.

Bonus:

I think this was an equally possible reaction from Chara.

[redundantz]

immortal x mortal problems

[catcze]

NO BC LISTEN.

WIRO REACTING TO HIS CRUSH/LOVER WEARING A SUIT. LIKE IT FITS THEIR FRAME SO PERFECTLY AND SNUGLY AND WDYM “WHY IS HE LOOKING” OFC HE’S LOOKING LIKE HELLO???

I can’t tell if he would shameless let his eyes roam or would avoid looking at them KDIDKSKSK WIRO BRAINROT IS SO REALL

KAJNSDSA BROOO OMG okokokok something along the lines but 👀

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

You're fiddling with the cuffs of your suit as you exit the changing room, a frown on your face. You're nervous— of course you are! It's not often that you're invited to a high-profile, black-tie event like this, and you'd rather not stick out like a sore thumb.

Wriothesley, who sits comfortably in a plush armchair, has been invited before though. But time and time again he's turned down the invites with some of the most ludicrous excuses. 'A monster is attacking the fortress' is one of his most used ones, closely followed by 'a bird shat on the shoulder of my suit.' But you wonder why he's accepted this time, despite his distaste for the limelight. Well, you shrug, pocketing the thought for later. At least you won't be going alone.

"What do you think?" You pose the question to him, still frowning as you look down at yourself. Did you look okay? Was the fit alright? Did this color wash you out? You had splurged on this (well. Wriothesley splurged on this, technically. He had said it's a gift) and had the suit custom-done, so it should fit your measurements to an exact, but... you frown, not able to shake off the nerves.

And it doesn't help that Wriothesley hasn't said anything since you've stepped out, either. Merely stares at you, eyes roaming your figure. Even at your question, he acts like he hadn't even heard it. Does the suit look that bad?

"Wrio?"

That seems to reach him, and he blinks, finally registering that he's been staring at you— and that you've begun to stare back.

"Oh, uh. Yeah, it looks nice on you. The tailor did a very good job," he says, glancing away, hoping you don't see the red tinge to his cheeks or his ears.

"Really?" You ask, evaluating yourself in the mirror with a frown. "I don't know. I feel like I look like a mess."

"if you look like a mess, then I dread to think what I look like," he says, glancing at you for a second, getting an eyeful of you in that damn good suit, and feels his mouth dry up again. Wriothesley turns his eyes to the corner of the room, finding the fake palm plant there incredibly interesting. Barely more interesting than you. In that very flattering suit. It emphasizes your body very well, he thinks. Makes him see just enough of you while still leaving some to the imagination. And the color you chose for it... red and black, to match what he'll wear, you said. He sighs, troubled, because just the mere memory of it has his heart racing and his palms sweating.

You keep criticizing your reflection for a while longer, and it takes just enough time for Wriothesley to work up the self-control to look your way. "You look good," he says at last. Then clears his throat. His face feels hot. "Better than good, even. You don't have anything to worry about, I promise."

It placates you, because you finally give your own reflection a rest. You back away from the mirror, humming. "If you say so. Thank you, Wrio," you tell him, flashing him a small, shy smile just before you back up into the changing room once more to take it off.

Once you're out of the vicinity, Wriothesley drops his head into his palms, groaning softly.

if he's this much of a mess around you at a fitting, he wonders how much of a fool he could make himself at the actual event.

[gunsatthaphan]

"I now have the courage to do things I never thought I'd do."

[1eoness]

professor!re4r leon fucking u.. i think (or at least wanting to fuck u)

cw content : leon size kink kennedy (jk) | sub-afab-fem-reader and dom!leon kennedy | age gap(ur 19-20 he's 27), leon masturbating, penetration, slightly weird ooc leon:( ♡

[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]

authors note bc i love rambling; btw i'm writing this in public at some boba cafe can u believe that lol im literally supposed to be studying but hwatever fuck it leon make me go blaahhhhhh. btw what do i call this? a fic?blurb?drabble? idklmfao by the way i have NO idea on how to write professor x reader shit so im sorrhy if this sucks ass.

synopsis : conflicted and flustered professor!leon kennedy of your local college struggles to improve his class' average because students like you—incompetent, airheaded, spoiled and klutzy— make it difficult for him :(

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you heard the rustling of laptop bags and stationery as leon's students left for that morning lecture. though, they moved slow and drowsy; for leon is sure nowadays this generation can't afford to wake up at 6:00 in the morning to prepare for a 7 a.m. lecture on "deviance and crime control."

especially you.

kennedy is a sharp man. he harps on students even if they get a B on any assignment, but he swears it's on his tough love (to which a lot of students aren't really aware of, just that they know this stoic pretty-face of a man has high standards.)

he is also keen on attendance. something girls like you seem to take lightly. it was absurd, really. most professors don't give a shit, do they?

it would've been fine with leon if you missed lectures even twice a week as long as you emphasized your understanding of his lessons through putting stellar effort on your schoolwork. but the best you've gotten on his class was a B- drawing close to a C+.

so, he needs to have a chat with you. urgently.

"l/n, i need to speak with you." leon spoke, confrontative as his black jeans peered from your right peripheral vision. he stood tall beside the edge of the table where you sat. jesus, was he trying to give you a heart attack? (he always had this habit, he'd just pop out of nowhere. he has silent feet.)

yes, you may have missed his lectures from monday to thursday to go to macedonia with your family: but if leon were given the opportunity for a vacation he would snag it too, right?

you looked up at the young professor, wide-eyed and a bit intimidated. what the hell did you do this time? you closed your laptop, gave leon your full attention. leon has also noticed this about you; you're quick to pay attention but you have the memory span of a dumb rabbit. maybe even the IQ of one too, if leon was rude enough.

so you sat there, hands on your lap as you fiddled with the pleats of your blue plaid skirt. the color makes his heart beat a little—he loves the color blue. and the way it looked on you... wait, no. what the hell was he thinking?

"you couldn't even spare the few minutes to e-mail me that you'd be missing four- four, of my classes in one week." he emphasized with a slate tone, and the way his eyes peered down at you added that he needed your reasoning of the situation. he'd love to hear what you had to say for yourself. "i had to talk to your friend, ashley, for some clarification. even the president's daughter has the dignity to show up to my class with a verbal apology." leon scolded as his fingertips met the pages of your notebook. did you even care about his classes? :(

much to your chagrin, your lips were pressed in sheepish silence. hopeless, even. you didn't even have anything to say for yourself? how pitiable.

you simply can't miss class, that wasn't right! just because you thought you could hide in the shadows amidst leon's collective of 73 students (yes he counts), you aren't out of his eyes. in fact, you stood out to him even if you were just an incompetent scholar.

he sighed at your silence. "fair enough, an apology can't compensate for your lack of presence or decorum." he then placed your paper on the desk, you had gotten a D. you were never a bad student but this was your first D ever! your eyes widened and he caught on even though he could only see the crown of your hair. "surprised? because i'm not." leon uttered flatly while his pale fingers flipped through the papers right in front of you. you even spotted a few contractions— when did you even pass this?!

but you weren't a bad girl to him, no. you were capable of shame and guilt. you looked sideways, unable to meet his eyes and training your vision to the floor. you felt low, disappointing a professor that gave you numerous chances to break out of your awkward shell.

"you're a smart girl, you know that?" he finally sighed softly. he wanted you to look at him, make him another promise that you'll start putting effort in his class. he needed to maintain his class's average or else he'd prove he was an inept professor, and he can't do that when he lets 'students like you' get away with shabby attendance and subpar schoolwork. "i don't just give students chances. but that doesn't make you special." and it was true—he's voluntarily failed 6 of his students before. "you'll do something about this, right?"

"yes, professor kennedy.." you muttered modestly.

"hmm?" he hummed inquisitively as he took your paper back. he was willing to give you a chance. "listen to me. i'll give you the chance to redo your paper. i know when students rush their work and if i see even a hint of redundancy in it—i will take all my chances back. and you are never taking absences from my class. i don't want you entering even a minute late, or leaving a second early. i hope we're clear, l/n."

naturally, you were scared. so you nodded up at him after countless confirmations that you will do you work and that you'll show up to class no matter what. he has to use your word against you, he's sorry but it's for your own good.

once he was satisfied, he gave you a nod and turned his side, dismissing you. after all, leon was a busy man. you're not his only student.

it was when you walked out the building and then 20 minutes away from it that you felt like crying. you hated being scolded by him :( but just when you were about to go through your bag for your handkerchief, you were stuck with an inconvenient realization. you forgot your handkerchief.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon just stared at the table where you sat from just now, backpack strap over his shoulders since he was just about to leave. he gripped onto either of them slowly as he stared down at your handkerchief in contemplation.

a twofold baby-blue hankie embedded with a subtle floral print. tentatively, he picks it up with his hand and examines it. for a minute his mind went blank, conflicting between chasing you and just returning it to you or to leave it by the lecture podium for her to retrieve tomorrow (when you hopefully attend his lesson again.)

..but blue was his favorite color.

"damn it." leon, with a barely audible mutter, shoved the handkerchief in his jacket pocket. he felt like the most guilty man in the world, poor boy.

...

leon sighed.

he wasn't celibate.

his hormones were in shambles once he got to his place. perhaps part of it was because he knew he hasn't graded the recent tests yet.

manspreading, tie loose, shirt stuffy and jeans undone while his hair wisped in slightly disheveled directions. cold breaths followed out his pretty mouth.

"nnn..fuck.. uhh-" leon whimpered into the baby blue cloth, laced with your perfume. he felt so guilty, so perverted. he shuddered every time he could see over the edges of the cloth, seeing his cream-leaking tip from previous orgasms spurt teasingly. "ahh- fuuuck, p-please-"

his grunts were high. he was close to crying, staining your pretty handkerchief with guilty-pleasure-ridden tears. spilled milk, it trailed down his pretty shaft as he pumped it over and over. his motive was you— you were just so fucking stupid and had so much naivete, it absolutely vexed him knowing how endearing you were.

until a slip of leon's mouth surprised him, earning a small squeak from him as he accidentally muffled your name in your cloth. "fuck, y/n- a-ahh.. u-uhh..hmfff.." he was frustrated; whining and cumming while his mind stirred with the thought of you and your pretty eyes and the photographic memory of your dumbstricken face.

he gave out a tired whine into the cloth, so, so close to crying his frustrations out. he just wanted to eat you. christ, and he was so hard for you it made his head ache..

he could only watch his girth that pulsed with white. he pried the sweet handkerchief off his lips, breathing roughly and wiping his tears. he felt so, so sorry for you. the color of the cloth looked exactly like the skirt you wore yesterday. and yet to top it off, he (ashamedly) wiped his cum off with your dainty cloth. oh, he's so sorry..

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

he didn't want to come to this point. or maybe he did and god was force-feeding him with culpability (he's atheist). he offered once to tutor you personally. one-on-one, no distractions. and so suddenly, someone's skirt was on his clean carpet floor..

your blouse draped over your shoulder and was pulled above your bra carelessly. he handled you with so much ease, squishing you into position while he tried to slowly push his thick length into your syrupy hole. you bit the knuckle of your thumb, and whimpered timidly that he was too big. but look where you were now.

"fuck- you're so- you feel so good.. shut up and take it all, yeah?.. hmmff-" there leon goes, harping you again. you were so loud but it wasn't even your fault, not when he was pistoning his cock into you and paying no hesitation to his pace. you were simply too sweet for him not to please. "sweetheart, hold onto me.." he mutters.

he was pushing every squeak and cute little wail out of his pathetic student, rutting his tip into that spot. "n-nnghh- aah!~" you were running low on words.

"yeah?- mhmm...ffuck, right here? huh?" the feeling of him thrusting against that spongy part more and more sent your mind further into autopilot. you were past squirming around and pushing him away, you just had to take it.. and take it.. and you were doing so good ♡.

"l-leoonn.. m-mm!- fffeels t-too good-" you babbled, mind stuffy with the pleasurably-shameful feeling of being gorged with your professor's thick girth. he shuddered at the way you uttered his name so adoringly. to leon you were so dirty but so, so cute. he had you puddled into tears beneath him while he fucked into your cute little hole with fervor. he just wanted to stuff you full, make you his, adore you forever.

he whined softly into your shoulder. you kept clenching down on him and it made him impossible to think. his phone was ringing on his bedside but he doesn't even give a shit—if anything he tried to drown it out by thrusting into you faster, to which made him lament into your skin. he even adjusted your hips up impossibly further.

"l-leeonn, n-no..— n-no more, please!!-" you blabbered adorably, voice mumbly and whiny as you clawed at his shoulders or back— you didn't know anymore.

"shhh shh.." he cooed over your cries with a quiet and honeyed voice, planting a soft kiss to where he could reach on your face or head. "i know, i know, it feels so good, hm?.. just let it feel good, baby—ahh, fuck-.. uhh..." he moaned lowly into your shoulder, unable to stop the way he rutted his cock into your creamed-up cunt. you seemed to be enjoying it, so why were you complaining? leon thinks to himself smugly but he knows he can't act on his pride. after all you made him like this—submitting to his carnal urges...

you didn't wanna cum a third time, huh? silly little girl.

leon growled quietly into the crook where your neck and shoulder met. you've never heard that sound from him. he held you down, constraining you, and squished you further into his mattress. a helpless and surprised yelp lolled out your tongue as he went impossibly quicker while he cursed like he was about to break down in tears. leon was mercilessly grinding his cock into all your sensitive spots, not letting your pleas of retort contest him. "fuckfuck- u-uhhh, take it, baby, c'mon... do it f'me, it's gonna feel so good-.. ahh!-"

he couldn't even finish his sentence—just piping his cum in you roughly as if he were proving a point, growling whinily along the way. he even kept fucking you shallowly while you were a dumb, sniffling mess with no sense of self-assertion as you creamed all over his shaft uncontrollably a third time. consecutive and quiet whimpers could be heard from you while you soaked in your overstimulation, needing him desperately to reassure you again through the overbearing pleasure of being pushed past what your cunny can handle.

"poor baby." he muttered to himself breathily as he gave the last of his tired, frustrated thrusts and pulled out of you; giving you the time to breathe while he pats your hair down comfortingly. his fluttering eyes finally closed as his head found refuge in your neck, slightly limp with exhaustion as he huffed cold breaths on the wet patches of your skin.

he pulled his head away after a minute of regaining what's left of his strength. leon looked down at you with subtle puppylike eyes, like he was sorry for ever being so harsh on you; even before he fucked the shit out of you. you quietly took your handkerchief to wipe some sweat off his neck— and his cheeks went a little rosy, remembering what he did to it that day you "lost" it ♡.

seems detergent can't wash something like lust away!

[redr1vers]

incorrect quotes ft. jesse pinkman

[hiccuppop]

redraw of that stupid doodle i did of chara from last year

[smokbeast]

Papyrus sketches from my book the other day!

I like to think papyrus is serious and can become angry when he wants to be, but he’s such a nice and genuine sweet character he wouldn’t want to show that to the character or others.

[b4kuch1n]

siren

[sketchy-tour]

While I scream into the void of not finishing any art, have this silly oc interaction of Dandy and Will cause Will's hands are huge and I couldn't stop thinking about how tiny he'd make Dandy's hands look in comparison.

Will Wayward belongs to the lovely @kandavers

[moeblob]

Me, too, Blade. Me. Too.

(I am taking donations to buy a gigantic $250 stuffed cheeseburger. It's giant. I want it. I will never obtain it. I saw it in a shop window and..... wow. Big.)

[gomacave]

5p yuuram bloood twww

[f4llingtoyou]

what a shame part II (min ho x reader)

“What if I told you I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months now?” 

read part I here!

wc: ~1.8k an: part 2 is finally here!! i don’t love how this turned out but i did have them kiss so. hope you all enjoy :)

Objectively, you know you’re overthinking this.

He had literally stated, out loud, that he was willing to kiss you. For Min Ho, that was basically a confession of undying love. You know that his interest tends to be fleeting, and you’d be stupid to not act on it when you’ve been presented with the opportunity. 

(It doesn’t help that you’ve been thinking about kissing him for as long as you can remember. It definitely doesn’t help that he’s strolling around his party looking like everything you’ve ever dreamed of.)

You’d like to think maybe he meant it genuinely - that his attraction isn’t just surface level. You’d like to think the flickering warmth that starts up in your stomach every time your eyes meet is a mutual experience. 

But instead of the elation you’d expected to feel at the idea of it all, something like dread settles in the slump of your shoulders.

After all, he’s a flirt. And as much as you’d like to think you’re special, part of you wonders how many girls he’s told that to tonight. You’d value yourself as more than a distraction even if you wonder if he could say the same. It’s all too easy to lose yourself in comparisons and you hate that you’re discrediting him in the process, especially when you’ve gotten to know him in a way that feels far more intimate than his public facade. 

If his intention was to leave you dazed and confused, he can certainly rest easy tonight. But you know you can’t - that you’ll be thinking about him for quite possibly the rest of your life.

You’ll be thinking about his lips on yours, his hands on your back, your back against a wall. 

Something inside you shifts.

Your inner monologue comes to a conclusion. Carpe diem, or whatever.

You down the rest of your drink (some sort of cherry concoction that leaves a saccharine afterthought lingering on your tongue) and leave your bar stool for the second time this evening. You’re embarrassed to admit you know exactly where he is, but you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of him. He’s seated next to Dae on one of the couches, the spread of his shoulders filling out his suit jacket a little too perfectly. 

You swallow down your nerves and tap him on the shoulder.

The way he turns and looks up at you has your knees going weak. You’re suddenly all too aware of Dae’s eyes on you.

You clear your throat. Your feelings for him lodge in your throat like an aftertaste that won’t go down easy.

“About… your offer,” you begin, and the way he raises his eyebrows has the rest of the sentence wilting on the tip of your tongue. It’s like your thoughts are turning to honey - thick and sweet and slow. It’s all-consuming, the way you lose yourself in him.

He smirks.

 “Oh? You changed your mind?” 

It’s moments like these where you think it’s more than unfair that he knows how attractive he is. 

��Don’t flatter yourself. You’re just… the best available option,” you protest, narrowing your eyes in a false display of confidence. You both know he’s more than the best option. 

“The best available option? There’s no need to lie to yourself like that,” he scoffs, but it’s lighthearted in a way you weren’t expecting. Your friendship has never crossed this line before, and it’s undeniable that you’ve been wondering how this is going to change it. You don’t think you’d mind if he broke your heart, not if you got to have him like this just for a night.

He gets up from the couch, patting a somewhat despondent Dae on the shoulder, and extends a hand to you. “Let’s get out of here, hm?”

You bite back a smile.

“Lead the way.”

And he does.

Of all the things you’re thinking right now, you’re definitely not thinking about the way he slides his fingers between yours like it’s an old habit. It’s absolutely the last thing on your mind. (You’re lying.)

He leads you through the crowds of people with effortless ease. The situation has something equivalent to adrenaline running through your veins. It has you bursting into unabashed laughter - the glittering lights, the music, the people, the way you’re being pulled into a dark hallway to kiss the guy you’re in love with.

Min Ho glances over his shoulder at the sound and you think you could live off the way he smiles for the rest of your life.

“Sorry,” you mouth over the noise between peals of laughter, even if you don’t know why you’re apologizing.

He huffs out a laugh of his own and cocks his head. “There’s nothing to apologize for, darling.”

And even though he says the it somewhat teasingly, the word has your chest erupting in fireworks. You don’t think you’d mind it at all if he called you that more often.

You’ve reached an alcove in one of the hallways, awash in warm buttery light spilling from delicate chandeliers. He tugs you into it with a grin like it’s second nature, and it almost feels like fate the way you fit perfectly in his arms.

Maybe you are special, if he pulled you all the way over here just to kiss you. Maybe you’re not just another face in the crowd.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” you prompt, bracing yourself for the potential disappointment.

He smirks again. 

“What if I told you I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months now?”

Well. In that case.

Your reply comes out as a whisper. 

“So kiss me.”

And he does.

You know that kissing Min Ho will do nothing to help your repressed feelings - but the way he’s tilting his head to make the kiss deeper has your mind going deliciously blank. There’s nothing to overthink when he’s sliding his tongue across your lips like he’s tasting you for the first and last time.

You hope to god it’s not the last.

You test the waters ever so slightly by sinking your teeth gently into his bottom lip, and you’re rewarded with a drawn out groan, his hands tightening on your waist. It’s like electricity bleeding from where his fingers press into your skin, gasps spilling out of your mouth that he swallows down one after the other. You’re practically melting in his embrace as he pushes you gently until your back hits the wall with an audible thump.

Emboldened by his behavior, you thread one hand into the hair just above his neck and tug ever so slightly. 

“Fuck,” he hisses against your lips, and he pulls back just enough that you can catch your breath.

“You sure this is your first kiss?” he mumbles, pressing his mouth to yours one more time before you can respond. Honestly, your head is miles above the clouds right now, but you pull yourself together enough to reply.

“Yeah. Pretty sure,” you whisper back, wincing at how out-of-breath you sound. But then your head is falling back against the wall when his mouth moves to that spot on your jawline just below your ear. 

The whine that tears from your throat when he detaches himself from your neck is far too audible for your liking, and you shut your eyes on instinct out of embarrassment.

It takes you by surprise when you feel his finger nudging your chin up toward him again, and when you open your eyes he’s grinning so brightly at you that you’re suddenly forgetting how to breathe.

“You’re so cute,” he mutters, before diving back in to kiss you again. It almost sounds like affection, and that realization has everything suddenly feeling off-kilter. You had grounded yourself on the idea that this was something Min Ho would just forget by the time the sun rose, and having him potentially care about you has your entire world shifting drastically. 

You’ve never been touched, let alone kissed, like this - like you mean something. 

It has you on the verge of confessing it all. 

He pulls back once more, briefly, and your eyes trail down the curve of his neck as he swallows. It’s easy to see why so many people are in love with him - you’re already addicted to the feeling of him devouring every breath you exhale. His grip on your waist has fire sparking in the pit of your stomach and you’re so close to falling apart in his arms that even his delicate touch feels bruising. (Although you think that if you were to peel back the layers of your outfit, you’d find his name tattooed in deep reds and purples like the marks he’s left on you neck right above your heart, where your feelings have been beating out of your chest.)

“You taste like cherries,” he murmurs. 

A self-conscious smile spreads slowly across your face. “Blame your mocktails.”

Laughter spills from him. The sound has an inexplicable warmth trickling through your chest. “I’d like to thank the bartender, actually. I could kiss you until the sun rises.”

“Please do,” you respond simply, and you’re not even ashamed to say it because he’s leaning back in before you can finish saying it.

This time his ferocity catches you by surprise and he uses it to his advantage, licking into your mouth without any hesitation. It’s absolutely dizzying, the way he occupies your every sense and every thought. The only word you can remember is his name, and when you breathe it out you’re met with a low groan in response. 

And then there’s a cacophony of shouts in the distance - he tilts his head back with a frustrated huff. There’s a particularly loud yell, something about shutting the music off, and you and Min Ho immediately meet each other’s eyes with mirrored expressions of concern.

You swallow. “Is that… Professor Lee?”

Min Ho curses.

“It’s okay. You should go,” you rush to tell him, leaving an unspoken question in the air about what this whole situation means for the two of you. You’d ask it out loud but the words stick in your chest and refuse to come out, so you duck your head instead. You’re still trying to regain your bearings like you hadn’t just been kissed senseless.

He runs a hand through his hair, glancing between you and the sounds of the party agitatedly.  “Yeah. I-” he pauses. 

Fuck it.

You gently squeeze his arm. “Do you maybe wanna go out sometime?”

He doesn’t give you any time to second guess yourself because he starts smiling so widely you’re sure it must hurt. His gaze is unbearably soft, so soft that a chill ghosts down your back. The things you’d give to have him like this every day - like he’s in love with you too.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

He pulls you back into him one more time, lips lingering on yours until he’s stolen all the breath from your lungs.

And then he’s slipping back into the party, leaving you giddy and absolutely breathless once more.

[ahalliance]

i think a crucial aspect of the codebreakers dynamic that is sometimes overlooked is how likewise enamoured phil is with étoiles . like étoiles is the god of praising and hyping people up so people tend to focus on how much étoiles thinks phil is the coolest guy ever but do not forget that phil also thinks étoiles is the coolest fucking guy to ever guy he will never pass up an opportunity to talk about how cool and strong and funny étoiles is . their relationship is built on their mutual ‘WOW this guy is awesome’ feelings for one another and it is amazing

[luhman16]

Gay people