#(here's my apology for being away for so long)

[jk97]

Unprofessional Attraction | THREE

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 23.6K ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff, ANGST, and explicit content (mdni), teacher/student relationship, some other members are featured, drinking alcohol, bigdick!yunho, pet names (angel, pretty, sweetheart, etc.), possessive/obsessive/toxic behavior, cunnilingus, hickeys, fingering, praise, unprotected sex, creampie(s), jealousy, blackmail ♡ A/N - I’m soooo sorry this took me forever to write (it’s so many words ahhh 🫠) but hopefully this is worth the wait. The next part will be the finale of this series. This also isn't beta read so I apologize for mistakes ahhh. I love ya’ll, thank you for your patience friends, STREAM GOLDEN HOUR ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“You could at least try a little harder to pretend you want to be here with me, ____.”

Wooyoung’s antsy fingers pinch at the straw of his drink while he watches you thumb away at your phone. Going back and forth with your friends in the group chat about Jongho’s upcoming recital is the only thing calming your nerves this afternoon. When you had agreed to his ruse, you didn’t realize you were signing up for public humiliation. Those two words might be a bit dramatic, but sitting together in the dead center of the campus food court has you immensely anxious either way. This is entirely way too public…

You don’t mean to offend him with your embarrassment. It’s not like Wooyoung isn’t handsome; in fact, that might make things worse. It helps draw in too much unnecessary attention from other women, and it feels as though there might as well be a spotlight circling your table. Luckily, Yunho has a lecture through the next hour today, so you’re not too concerned on that front. Regardless, your first fake date with him is starting to be nothing short of awkward. 

“You can’t even look me in the eyes?” He inquires further.

“I’m sorry,” you find it within yourself to apologize, placing your phone face down on the table and sliding it away. To offset your anxiety, you put new effort into inspecting your food and preparing to finally eat it. Anything to just keep busy. “This is just a little out of my comfort zone.”

“Pretend I’m Mr. Jeong if that makes it easier,” he suggests, but his tone hangs on the edge of condescension. It’s not all that intentional, but he’s poking the bear. “I have access to the grade book all the same, you know.”

With narrowed eyes, you try to let his wisecrack roll off your shoulder, “That’s not a very funny joke.”

Continuing to avoid his eyes, Wooyoung watches you put all your attention into eating the meal he’s bought you so that you both can pretend to be on this lunch date. He was gracious enough to offer to pay for any meals you share moving forward, as long as it would make things easier on you while being a part of his plan. That’s what a real boyfriend would do anyway, right? Though, right now you’re not treating him like a boyfriend— you’re treating him like some kind of dirtbag with an open wallet. He can feel his own appetite slipping away slowly but surely.

“What are you both anyway, fuck buddies?” He asks a little too bluntly.

It might be a bit muffled, as your mouth is stuffed with food, but you still manage to retort, “That’s none of your business, actually.”

His increasing annoyance is evident by the deep exhale he tries (and fails) to suppress. Wooyoung doesn’t want things to be so tense, but you’re not exactly making it easy. He supposes you might gain some sympathy for him if he explains his troubles. You seem like a genuine person despite any contempt you might hold for him right now, so he figures you’ll be understanding. He needs to make conversation in some kind of way, anyway.

“How about I tell you a bit about my situation then?” He finally offers. You hum to let him know you’re listening, so he continues, “She and I were together for the last three years, but then she broke up with me a few months ago. And over something so stupid, really.”

“Go on,” you encourage, swallowing the bulk of food in your throat.

“Well, I need a master's degree to get the specific job I want… After telling her, one of her friends got in her ear about how me staying in school might hold her back after we graduate next year.” Wooyoung tries to sound indifferent to her friend’s heavy influence on her decisions, but the look behind his eyes, as he glances around to see if she’s in the area, says otherwise. It’s full of bitterness and hurt. “She wants to travel for a year before getting a job, and they told her I’d stress her out too much with a long-distance relationship. She took that to heart, for whatever reason.”

Would it be a lie if you said you didn’t support a tiny bit of actual pity towards Wooyoung? Probably. Knowing what you know now, you ponder more about the tight situation between you. He’s an intelligent guy, and you’re sure he knows exactly what Yunho is to you with the way you get touchy about his name even being mentioned. That’s why he’s using someone else’s happiness to retrieve his own once more. While that’s not exactly just, you’re aware that love makes people do crazy things. Moreover, you know you in particular can’t judge anyone after doing what you’ve done to achieve Yunho’s attention.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” is all you can reply, but it’s genuine.

Before you can process what’s happening, Wooyoung suddenly reaches across the table and links his fingers with your free hand in an act of endearment. Your cheeks prickle with heat, not from being charmed, but from more humiliation. This is embarrassing, suddenly having to do public displays of affection with someone you don’t even like in front of whoever is looking hard enough to notice.

“Don’t turn around, she’s here with a friend,” he mumbles, and then an affectionate smile tugs at his lips. It looks fairly genuine… He is much too good at looking charming on the drop of a dime. “Do you think it’d be too corny if we wore some matching outfits a couple times?”

You hesitate for the briefest second before squeezing his hand with false affection and leaning forward on your elbows to seem more interested.

Nobody is close enough to hear you reply, “Are you trying to win her back or get her to block you? Because I honestly can’t tell.”

“It’s just a little joke. Laugh a little, I beg,” Wooyoung pouts. 

He leads your connected hand to fondle his cheek, trying to inconspicuously guide you through the motions. If Wooyoung didn’t know any better, he would assume you’ve never been on a date in your life. His hopes were much higher than this, as you’re much too pretty to be this stiff when it comes to showing affection. It almost has him second-guessing whether he’s right about you and Yunho being involved more than just sexually. Much to his surprise, your hand finally relaxes against his face, and he revels in the way you even stroke his skin with your thumb. The timing couldn’t be more ideal, truly. He can sense the attention of his intended audience, and the corners of his mouth curl into a subtle smirk of approval. 

“That’s perfect. Keep going.” 

“Don’t push it, please.”

For the rest of that week, Wooyoung insisted on repeating these kinds of daily rendezvous. This request also accompanied another for walking each other to class when applicable. He knew he couldn’t always time it right for when she’d be present, but he had his workarounds. He was fairly knowledgeable about a few of her friends’ class schedules, and he made it a point to walk with you on paths that would often intersect with those who he knew would inform her of his behavior instead. Occasionally, he would ask you to show up to school a little more fetching than usual, with prettier clothes and makeup. Wooyoung also made a point of concealing her identity from you, for reasons unbeknownst to you. He failed to tell you any more details about her after your first date, and that included basics as simple as her name. Several possibilities were considered when you finally identified this as a problem. The rational explanation would be that he doesn’t want you approaching her on your own time and taking things into your own hands. A particular irrational explanation starts infiltrating your thoughts with the more days that pass by bearing no evidence of progress:

“I’m starting to believe this ex of yours doesn’t exist.”

Your snide remark about his secrecy started as a joke. 

“I have nothing to gain from lying to you.”

His terse reply didn’t necessarily extinguish the conspiracy behind your jest. After consistently being told not to look in certain directions for nearly two weeks, and no updates on her position, it became harder to believe his words. Despite everything, you do as you’re told and pray that his ex breaks through sooner rather than later.

I’m sorry.

It seems as though those two words haven’t stopped coming out of your mouth ever since you stepped foot in Yunho’s home this evening. 

It begins with apologizing profusely for asking to come over on such short notice. Your complex’s Wi-Fi went out due to the wintery mix storm slamming the town tonight. Wooyoung’s been trying to lay it on thick the last few days and make your presence more than known to his ex, anywhere and every way that he can. Consequently, with a lot of your free time being taken away by him, you found little time to put towards important assignments due at the end of this week. The lack of Wi-Fi is the absolute last thing you need to happen right now. 

Yunho doesn’t care about your abrupt presence at his door or even the way you track slush past his doorstep. He's more concerned about how you drove in the middle of a huge storm so late into the evening with no care for your safety. Over and over, you find new things to apologize for that make no sense to him. Another set of frazzled apologies comes from your mouth for keeping him up late after an hour or two passes. Yunho can’t help but genuinely laugh at this one.

“You do realize what day it is, right?” He inquires. The clueless look on your face makes him sit up, “It’s Saturday, ____. The day you typically come over and spend the night. I actually texted you about it earlier today, I didn’t know if you still wanted to or not since you were so busy last Saturday.”

This epiphany makes you immensely bashful and draws many more apologies out of you for your poor memory and lack of communication. How could I have lost time so badly that I forgot to reply to him about something we do so routinely? Under your stressful circumstances lately, your days are running together, and there’s just too much on your plate to appease everyone. Yunho visibly sees the shame blanket you from head to toe, and he hopes he didn’t come across as if he was upset with your behavior. In fact, he’s more concerned than anything.

Your lover can hear you type much faster after this brief exchange and he scoffs. Surely you don’t believe he’d willingly let you make haste of your work so you can disappear for another week or two… he groans internally when he realizes that’s exactly what you’re doing. He doesn’t understand why you’re so self-conscious and sheepish tonight, but he’s not going to press it. Instead, he rises from his spot on his couch and creeps over to where you’re seated at his table. His hands find the slopes of your shoulders and thumbs rub comforting circles into your muscles.

“You know you’re not going home tonight, right?” He questions after a moment of being nosey and peeking at your screen.

“And why not?”

The abrupt feeling of Yunho’s large palm skating up the skin of your throat before pushing your chin up to meet his gaze above you makes a chill run up your spine. His eyes are warm and concerned, yet stern.

“Because I said so,” he says point-blank.

Whether it be because of the terrible storm still slapping at his windows, or maybe even the fact that he hasn’t seen you outside of a classroom in quite some time, he knows this succinct answer suffices just as well those do. The subsequent pout on your lips to him is seen simply as an invitation to kiss them, and he does just that. You don’t even try to argue any further. It may not be your best work this semester, but it’s not too much longer after that when you finally submit everything due before its midnight deadline.

After briefly disappearing to his room to rummage through his dresser and change into something more comfortable, you eventually join him on the couch. Tonight’s position of choice has your head using his thighs as a pillow, cheek squished against his soft sweatpants as he spends endless minutes massaging the tense muscles of your back and shoulders with his fingers. He smells so good… that lavender and musk mix has you closing your eyes every handful of seconds just to breathe him in. Even if he can’t see your face, it’s obvious that you’re not paying attention to the movie he has on the TV, so he suggests that maybe you both should move to the bedroom so you can be more comfortable. You assure him that you’re more than comfortable right where you’re at, and that’s the truth.

Despite laying so peacefully with him, in what should be a moment of sedating intimacy, your mind is still reeling with things that need to be accomplished in the next few weeks. Every time you mentally check off something on your list, there are several more things added after, such as your three final exams, Yunho’s final paper, returning your textbook rentals, finally figuring out your ceremony dress, picking up your guests’ ceremony tickets–

“Are you going to attend my ceremony?” 

Yunho hears you mumble this randomly after a while of sitting in comfortable silence. You’re sure he doesn’t need a ticket as a teacher, but the thought of having to get them brings you back to earth and reminds you of his presence.

“That was the plan,” he confirms, but hesitantly adds, “Unless you don’t want me there. I don’t want to make things awkward.”

The way you’re acting lately has him questioning things like this, now that he thinks about it. You immediately dispel his apprehension with a displeased grunt.

“No, I… really need you there.”

Yunho’s hand falters slightly in its kneading. He’s grateful that you’re unable to see his face with how you’re lying because the apples of his cheeks are taut from the overjoyed smile threatening to break through his lips. It’s one thing to be admired or adored by someone, but it’s another thing to be needed. He doesn’t hear that word often, if at all, but hearing it come from your mouth makes it even more monumental to him. That’s something he could get used to. Yunho hums in understanding, wordlessly confirming that he’ll be present. Following along the topic of graduation, he decides to ask something present on his mind recently.

“Have you thought about what you want to do after graduation?” 

“Career-wise or celebration-wise?”

“Whichever… or both.”

You close your eyes to think. Nothing immediately comes to mind in terms of celebrating, but you’re sure your friends will be holding parties to attend. Putting that aside, you turn over and decide to open up a bit about your impending employment.

“I had a great internship last semester that I put my all into,” you divulge, “They wanted to bring me on full-time, so I asked if they could hold the position and wait for me to finish my degree this semester. Lucky me, they agreed.”

“Already set up for success right after you leave that stage… You’re amazing,” Yunho marvels. “I suppose I’m just as lucky too, huh? I get to watch you shine, front row.”

There’s a brief moment where you peer up and match his fond smile that’s already beaming right back down at you. When you reach up to caress his cheek, Yunho leans into your touch as if it’s second nature. The further you both dive into this relationship, it feels as though maybe you’ve finally found an additional frontline cheerleader.

“Mhm, something like that,” you tease. When he turns to kiss your palm in his form of congratulations, you sigh. Your hands have been tainted by someone else’s touch, and here he is blindly showing them genuine affection. Before you can help it, another apology comes out, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, Yu.”

“Why do you keep apologizing tonight for things you can’t control?” The gentle, unsuspecting laugh he lets out makes the guilt sitting in your chest about Wooyoung just a little bit heavier. “It’s finals season, I know how it goes.”

When your hand returns to your chest, your gaze falls just the same. He’s right, albeit unknowingly. With those words, you can finally accept that you have no control over your current situation at all. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself that you’re guiding this blackmail ship forward, you’re just not. In any case, you still feel like you’re doing what’s best for Yunho's future. Tonight’s tornado of apologies have all been unconscious overcompensation. As much as you feel like you need to, you know you shouldn’t have to apologize for your shortcomings when they result from such unmanageable circumstances. You’re doing your best, even if your best isn’t enough just yet. 

Yunho can’t figure out what it is about tonight, but you seem like your head is a bit more in the clouds than usual. You’re here with him physically, but he can tell you’re somewhere else mentally. However, he acknowledges that he could be reading into things too much since it’s been a while since you both have spent time privately.

“Hey, stargazer, everything okay?” he finally asks in a soft voice, gently tugging on your cheek to bring you back to the present.

“Sorry—yeah, everything’s alright,” you reassure him. There’s something behind those soft eyes you’re giving him that makes him question your answer, but he keeps those concerns to himself and simply nods. “Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll make it up to you when this is all over with, I promise.”

You’re no longer talking about school with those words. He’ll probably never truly understand how much weight that sentence holds, but that’s okay. For the rest of your time with him tonight, you pretend that none of your problems exist outside his home. He deserves your unwavering attention tonight, at the very least. 

On the first day of the following week, Wooyoung requests your presence in front of some familiar dormitories. It’s been quite some time now since you’ve been on this side of campus, considering you moved into your current apartment around the end of your junior year. The nostalgic feeling you get when meandering your way to your meeting place doesn’t do much to alleviate the anxiety you regularly get every time Wooyoung brings you somewhere so populated.

“What are we doing here again?”

“I heard she’s swinging by here today to drop something off for a mutual friend,” he explains while his eyes still scope the area for her presence, as usual. 

You busy yourself with playing on your phone, keeping your head down and yourself hidden for as long as you can manage. This place, while technically not as densely populated as the dining space you frequent, has too many opportunities for lurking gazes. This particular set of dormitories sits on the side of campus that encompasses a good amount of academic halls and the largest campus library. There are plenty of teachers and students walking to classes or accessing the library, and even more lingering outside within the surrounding courtyard despite the frigid weather. Wooyoung had insisted on holding you by your waist for the time being as well, citing something about how “normal couples warm each other up”. You just want this to be over with as quickly as possible before too many people can see you both standing so close together. 

“Hey, ____,” Wooyoung hums after a while, catching your attention quickly.

“Hm?”

Before you can even fully look up from your phone, Wooyoung’s head dips down and seeks out your lips. Shock is an understatement; the feeling of your heart seizing in unison with your limbs makes you feel like you might as well be flatlining. This cannot be—

“Relax,” he whispers before deepening this kiss, interrupting your thought as his tongue enters your mouth. 

Reluctantly, you do as he says and try your best to relax while kissing him back. Over and over, you remind yourself this is supposed to be putting on a show in front of his ex. You try to allow yourself to fully slip into the role you have been forced to play. Your hands find purchase on his jacket, albeit uneasily. For someone who’s making your life so much more difficult, you can’t deny he’s at least a decent kisser. This moment feels like it lasts entirely too long, but eventually, Wooyoung pulls away and you watch his eyes dart around somewhere behind you. 

“She’s gone now,” he sighs, “Pretty sure she saw that though. Nice job.”

“Don’t ever do that without warning me beforehand again,” you scold him in a voice low enough for his ears to hear only. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, though he follows up with an apology. Even though it seems genuine, it does nothing to quell the immediate guilt that washes over you the moment you go to swipe saliva off of your lips with your thumb. The nauseous feeling stirring in your stomach over simply kissing someone else other than Yunho begins to build up and feel unbearable, “Can I go now? I’m supposed to meet with a teacher during their office hours soon.”

Despite the tremor of uneasiness in your voice, Wooyoung believes your lie without question. That uneasiness doesn’t depart your system for the remainder of the day even after removing his presence, and you decide to call it quits early instead of attending your final class. This feeling of guilt, almost as if you cheated while in a relationship, has you more saddened than frustrated tonight. To make things easier to deal with, you repeat the same phrase about you and Yunho in your head over and over.

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

While you cook yourself dinner–

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

While working on your final paper–

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

Yunho’s failure to text you back that evening before going to bed makes that fact easier to swallow. It’s the truth, so it shouldn’t be so hard to digest, right?

Yeosang does not expect much when he asks you out of the blue the next day to come and spend time with him after school. His roommate is gone for the week to visit family and he’s all by his lonesome. For the majority of the month, he’s become used to you declining in favor of completing overdue work. He’s not used to you being so behind on your work, and it doesn’t quite make sense to him when other times you say you’re even busier throughout the day. You look a bit more drained than usual when he Facetimes you that afternoon to suggest it, but he figures he wouldn’t be that upset to hear another no if you need the rest. 

The answer was yes, for the first time in a while. 

As luck would have it, the imaginary shackles on you had been released for the day, and having time to yourself for an entire weekday almost felt strange. Your personified migraine had texted you early in the morning informing you he’d be out of town for the day to attend some seminar that you didn’t care enough to remember the details of. Yeosang doesn’t do a good enough job concealing his shock the moment confirmation comes from your mouth, and you feign offense.

“I'm being punked, right?”

You scoff, “I don’t like the way you’re acting like this is bizarre, loser.”

You both know that’s a fairly accurate word considering your disappearances these last couple of weeks. His broad smile at your usual banter makes you feel cherished and missed, and it’s comforting for him to know you still have such a sense of humor even through your fatigue. He’s secretly been concerned for your well-being, but he didn’t want to seem meddlesome. Eventually, you go from two faces on a screen to you perched at his kitchen table. Yeosang insisted he cook you a nice homecooked meal when you mentioned to him in passing how much you miss eating his food. His back might be turned away, but he’s still actively engaging in discussion with you over the controversial love triangle taking place on the dating reality show he has you catching up on with him tonight. Toward the end of an episode, it takes you a few minutes of rambling to realize your best friend has grown silent while he cooks. Behind your back, he’s busy ruminating over thoughts of love triangles when he decides to finally uncork the bottle he’s been keeping closed in an attempt to have a peaceful evening.

“Can I ask you a question?” Yeosang calls out suddenly over the sound of oil popping in his pan.

Your eyes stay glued to the television, but you hum in consent, “What’s up?”

“Is it true that you’re dating Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung.

His name is a burden to you these days; the syllables of it only bring you discomfort. Hearing it mentioned on a day when you almost felt like you could get away from him draws a long beat of silence from you, though Yeosang doesn’t turn around to confront such silence. He allows you the time to answer however you’d like to if you would even provide one. Even though he was somewhat putting you on the spot with such a question, Yeosang is still your best friend at the end of the day. He’s not the kind of person to pressure you or give you a hard time about your private business, despite the times he rags on you in jest. 

The truthful answer is right on the tip of your tongue, begging to be shouted, but you don’t have the strength to say such a thing yet. Instead, you inquire, “Who did you hear that from?” 

You don’t mean to, but you sound a bit miffed when asking. Until this point, you had hoped your fake relationship with Wooyoung wasn’t too obvious to those who don’t pay close enough attention, but the feeling of failure is now pooling in the depths of your stomach. You should’ve known better. 

“When someone begins getting close to the TA who’s in charge of their grades, I guess it’s understandable that there would be some rumors… Some people in our class are saying you’re together now,” Yeosang explains, voice as calm as ever while he continues to push around the meat in the pan. “I overheard those speculations and I didn’t really believe any of it at all. Unlike them, I know you’re already seeing Mr. Jeong.”

Yeosang pauses to allow you a chance to say any words you wish to insert if anything. Being amongst speculations of wooing someone to raise your grades is the least of your worries, and you honestly couldn’t care less if people believed such silly things in the last semester of your college career. At this moment, you are much more concerned about Yunho catching light of such rumors, or really anything regarding you and Wooyoung in the same sentence reaching his ears. It didn’t seem that way when you were both in each other’s presence a few days ago talking about your future, and you’re sure that he would’ve confronted you about such things if he could. Still…

“I’m not dating Wooyoung, nor would I even think of doing that for my grades. You know me, Yeo.”

You’re sure Yeosang can feel your eyes gazing over at him now, boring anxious holes through his back. You know he can hear the uneasiness plaguing you, making your words waver.

“I understand, I do. It’s just…” Yeosang pauses once more to find the right words that don’t sound so accusatory, “Hongjoong told me he saw you both on each other on his way to class the other day. I figured I’d simply ask you about that before I come to any conclusions, that’s all.”

Several beats of silence pass before you feel like you’ve finally drowned deep in this ocean of stress you’ve been trying to keep afloat in.

“Yeosang, I’m in over my head and I can’t handle this anymore.”

Yeosang finally ceases his stirring and peers over at you the moment the last syllable leaves your lips. This is the first time you’ve both met each other’s eyes since he began cooking and his gaze is undeniably the most concerned you’ve seen him give you in years. He can’t help it when he can so clearly hear the hurt in your voice. He knows you’re a bit more reserved these days when talking about your relationship with your teacher, and he understands that it could be out of respect for his privacy. This moment doesn’t seem like a situation where that’s applicable anymore.

Navigating this situation all by yourself is draining. 

These last months in college are supposed to be nerve-wracking in an exciting way, finishing finals and prepping yourself to walk across the stage for your diploma. You’re supposed to be anxious about what to wear and how to do your makeup for your ceremony, about how you should smile when the ceremony’s photographer tells you where to look as you grab that fake symbolic roll of paper. Instead, you’ve been running yourself dry trying to appease a man who’s threatening to ruin one of the best things to happen to you thus far in life. You just want to be happy. Yeosang was right in warning you about playing with fire when pursuing Yunho, but it all still hurts so fucking badly.

“I want to help you ____, but you have to be honest with me,” he stresses, “I’m concerned about you. Tell me what’s wrong, please.”

You’re uncomfortably silent for a moment, eyes glued to his while contemplating his words. At last, you decide to broach the subject of all your mental stress. If you trusted anyone to help you navigate this situation, it was going to be him. This was no longer something you could handle on your own. 

“I’m being blackmailed by Wooyoung.”

The words don’t even sound real coming out of your mouth when you finally betray the promise of silence you made to Wooyoung.

Yeosang’s brows draw together even closer in concern, “What?”

“Wooyoung found out that Yunho and I are together,” you confess further, words running out as quickly as you can think to say them, “And now he’s forcing me to date him to make his ex jealous. He wouldn’t stay quiet otherwise, and it’s all my fault, Yeosang. It’s all my fault.”

Your best friend pushes his pan away from the eye of the stove and makes haste over to where you’re sitting. He knows you better than you know yourself sometimes, already sensing you crumbling before you can realize that you’re finally breaking down. All of the pent-up stress over the last couple of weeks was finally taking its toll. 

“I thought it would be over quickly, but it doesn’t seem like we’re making any progress,” you sputter, putting your head in your hands and pressing your palms to your eyes. The last thing you want to do is cry over a man who does deserve your tears. “He won’t even tell me who she is. I can’t handle this anymore, I just can’t.”

Yeosang’s arms wrap around you to ground you before you can allow yourself to descend further into your breakdown. Very few times has he seen your foundation be shaken so badly by something. You’re one of the strongest people he knows, and it takes a lot to disintegrate the fortitude you hold. He knows he can help you build it back later, he’s your best friend for a reason. For right now, though, he’ll let you get everything out that you’ve been holding in and dealing with by yourself. He knows you probably had your reasons to keep such things inside and away from him.

“He kissed me yesterday and I felt so guilty for the rest of the day, like I betrayed Yunho,” you tell him, and before you realize it tears are finally brimming in your eyes.

“Be kind to yourself, ____,” Yeosang hums while he holds your face in his hands. “You didn’t do that because you wanted to, it’s okay. You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore, okay?”

Hearing those words for the first time since this all began allows a veil of peace to cover you and you nod, finally accepting your need for help. Yeosang promises you that he will do whatever he can to find out who Wooyoung has his sights set so heavy on without interfering enough to throw things out of kilter. His help could be the only chance you had at getting this charade to end faster, even if it meant riskily trying to nudge things along behind Wooyoung’s back. You were no longer satisfied with being patient, and you now realize you don’t have to settle for that anymore.

While you might’ve gained some peace that night, around 2 AM that morning, there is no peace to be found in the home of your lover.

Yunho’s been staring at his ceiling for the last hour, unable to sleep even though he knows he needs to be up in a handful of hours for work. He had tried to push this situation plaguing his thoughts out of his mind all day yesterday, but his brain does its worst on nights when he’s left to his own devices and his thoughts spiral. At least tonight it’s not for self-sabotaging reasons like he’s prone to. 

He allows himself to close his eyes and relive the moment when he saw you and his assistant kissing on his way to a multi-department meeting at the library. The moment he recalls the way your hands were clutching Wooyoung’s chest, he grimaces with unadulterated resentment. For the entirety of yesterday, he felt numb. He went through the day simply going through the motions, lacking any of his usual charisma and cordiality amongst most people he crossed paths with throughout the day. He was able to put on a mask for his students at the very least. How is one supposed to act when they see their girlfriend kissing another man? That’s when he has to remind himself:

She’s not my girlfriend.

At least, he doesn’t know if you are or not, since you haven’t said it out of your mouth yet. This is exactly the kind of bothersome bullshit he was so worried about weeks ago when he realized the severity of his feelings for you. He should’ve had the conversation with you earlier to see where your head was at, but he put it off for so long under the excuse of being afraid of scaring you off. He wonders if maybe you think he’s not serious about you enough since he’s never brought it up first. And sure, he knows you both aren’t technically together right now, but you could’ve at least let him know that you’re seeing more people than him, right? It hurts a little more that it’s also his assistant of all people.

He turns onto his side in a huff and buries himself deeper under his blanket. Yunho wishes he hadn’t fallen for you so hard. It’s hard enough to deal with his feelings as things are now, especially with the circumstances, but the introduction of competition might just drive him insane. She’s a grown woman and she’s allowed to do whatever she wants, he reminds himself reluctantly while closing his eyes once more, but again—a heads-up would’ve been nice. He doesn’t even know how to approach this situation moving forward. How is he supposed to look you in the eyes today during class?

The answer is that he doesn’t. 

If he can help it, he actively avoids those engaged eyes of yours while he goes on for an hour about pragmatics. He doesn’t even look over at your side of the room. It’s not until the mid-class break that he takes multiple swift glances over at you chatting with Yeosang about something that’s got you enthusiastic. That smile on your face while excitement physically pours out of you makes his eyes soften. He wonders if you’re discussing graduation, as it is coming up in some weeks now. Then, he remembers that he wanted to take you away or do something relaxing to celebrate since you seemed to not have existing plans. Would that sway you back over to his side, if he planned something nice and spoiled the surprise early? Before he can even finish that train of thought, he finds himself finally meeting your eyes while you briefly let yours wander around in the middle of a sentence. The sneaky flirtatious wink you send his way makes him clear his throat bashfully and adjust his tie.

Yunho spends the remainder of class discussing the final paper and offering to read any final drafts that people would like feedback on, as long as they’re submitted by a specific date. He knows he’s probably shooting himself in the foot by putting that kind of work on his plate so close to the deadline, but he genuinely wants people to do well on his final and he knows there are quite a few seniors in this particular class section. The least he can do is make sure those of you end your college careers with a satisfactory grade to finish off your transcripts. He did very well with his midterm evaluations as well, so he wants to do the same for his finals. 

When class ends, Yunho finally takes notice of how Wooyoung has been leaving as early as everyone else lately. He could’ve sworn Wooyoung used to stick around to ask him questions, and often times he even departed after Yunho had already departed. He also notices that you are nowhere to be found now even though Yeosang is still present, seemingly already having fled the room for one reason or another. He doesn’t want to think about if he’s been so oblivious to these kinds of things up until this point, but the thought of you and Wooyoung rushing to meet up after his classes sticks with him for the rest of the day.

Yunho can admit he’s a bit toxic sometimes. 

It happens in moments of weakness where he lets his selfishness outweigh anything else. He reasons to himself that this isn’t one of those situations as he stands in front of your apartment door late into the evening of that same day. He had called you and asked if he could come see you at your place, which rarely happens. While it caught you by surprise, and you were in the midst of work, you were still as welcoming as ever. He knows you’d never say no. He’d never admit it aloud, but he’s not solely here just to see you—he’s here to be a bit nosy. 

It’s freezing outside, so when you finally open the door he’s scrambling to get inside.

“That was fast,” you marvel. 

When you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug, your shivers and giggles are like white noise in his ears as his eyes sweep the room. He doesn’t notice anything out of place, nothing that would make it seem like anybody other than you had been present here anytime soon anyway. His cold hands slide up the slope of your back to cup the sides of your face, and he offers you a sweet closed-mouth smile before briefly pressing his lips to yours in greeting.

“Yeah, traffic was pretty non-existent,” he hums.

“I made soup since it’s so frosty,” you glance towards the kitchen as your hands go to unzip his jacket for him, “Are you hungry?”

“If you’re cooking, always.”

Tonight, Yunho takes things slow. 

From graciously eating your cooking to cuddling on your couch, he builds up the intimacy minute by minute. It’s something he’s been craving from you lately, that feeling of intimacy and domestication. He’s more than willing to indulge you when grow aroused by something as innocent as him mindlessly drawing shapes on your thighs with his fingers, slowly shifting them inside your pajama shorts when you whisper, “I want you to touch me.”

“I’m already touching you, baby.”

You push his hand just a smidge lower, whining, “You know what I mean.”

When things finally move to the bedroom, Yunho fucks you nice and slow, and it feels much more intimate than any of your previous times together. Slow, steady rolls of his hips into yours like he’s intent on showing you every ounce of love he holds for you in his body if he’s unable to say it outright himself. Nothing inherently strikes you as odd about the way his demeanor is different tonight. In fact, this kind of pure intimacy is something you’d been curious to experience from him. It almost makes you feel like you’re officially together. Sure, sex is naturally intimate, but this? This feels different. 

His hands go from holding yours beside your head so affectionately to passionately gripping and kneading the plush skin of your sides and thighs like they’re fresh dough. It’s like he’s trying to solidify that this is reality, that you’re truly here in his hands and not someone else's. Grip strong enough to dig deep into the tissue and make you moan, but gentle enough not to leave bruising marks. Truth be told, he’d rather leave marks of where he’s been in less covert places. That’s why his mouth subconsciously finds its way to your neck before you feel the gentle drag of his teeth on your skin. It’s too quick to even be considered a warning.

“Yu, wait–”

You begin to tell him he can’t leave hickeys in such open places, but Yunho quiets you by sucking your skin anyway. The first one is on the tender skin just under your jaw, right where he can feel the pulse of how fast your heart is beating with his tongue. The desperate whine you let out when he finally lets up with a quiet pop! of his lips off your skin encourages him to put another on the column of your throat. You’ll probably throw a fit later when you see how bad these are and complain about the trouble of covering them up, but he really couldn’t care less. 

When he finishes off the second hickey, he kisses his way up to your lips so sweetly as if he didn’t do something so obviously possessive. As if he didnt do something so mischievous which’ll draw questions from your friends and get you flustered trying to explain. These marks are warnings as much as they are bites of love. You throw your arms around his neck and arch your back, itching for more than what he’s offering. It doesn’t matter that it still feels euphoric, those long drags of his cock against your walls just to fill you up again—it’s too slow. The breathy laugh he lets out against your lips draws a pout from your own. 

“What’s wrong pretty girl, don’t I make you feel good?” Yunho asks in a whisper, deep chocolate eyes holding your gaze while he continues to roll his hips at his leisure. He doesn’t like that he needs a bit of reassurance right now, but he wants to hear it so badly. When you nod with fervor, it’s just not good enough for him, “Tell me, angel. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“You’re everything I crave, Yu,” you oblige him breathlessly, hands scratching at the sensitive nape of his neck while you arch again. For the first time this evening, Yunho’s hips falter in their steady rhythm. He’s quite caught off guard by your choice of words; it’s as if you know exactly what he needs to hear more than he does himself. “Nobody could ever make me feel like you do.”

“Yeah? This pretty pussy needs me, huh?”

There’s that word that he now loves so much: need.

“More than you know,” you gasp when he pushes his hips into yours as deep as he can manage, obscenities bubbling from within your chest.

Even though you both have had sex many times since this all began, this part still feels fresh. The way he manages to reach new depths inside of you and stretch you out to his heart’s content feels fresh every single time. Yunho’s thrusts begin picking up some speed finally and whines claw at his throat.

“My sweet, needy baby… You’re the only one who gets this, ____,” he admits, voice trembly while he drags his lips against the sensitive skin of your jaw, kissing his previous artwork, “It’s all yours, okay?”

In a perfect world, he’d love to hear you say the same back to him, but he’s snapping his hips too roughly now to allow for words. The way you begin begging for him to give you more of himself makes up for it. Bitten-off moans tumble from your lips as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, and it makes his cock throb and ache for release. The way you’re chanting his name has his eyes fluttering up in bliss. There’s no doubt in his mind that you want him, mentally and carnally, but the real question is if he’s not enough to satisfy that want. Yunho doesn’t have time to let his mind wander off into that kind of insecure territory. His brain becomes fuzzy as he becomes eager to feel you cum stuffed full of his cock, and then see his own paint your sweaty skin. Those familiar heavy pants he lets out against your lips make you simper.

“Getting close?”

“So close,” he nods, hissing when he feels you clench at his answer, “H-hah, oh fuck.”

“Wanna cum inside?” You offer this so shyly against his lips that he nearly doesn’t hear you talking altogether. When he offers you an absentminded ‘huh’ in response, you giggle and move to speak directly in his ear, “Want you to cum inside.”

Something behind Yunho’s eyes changes when you pull back—those blown-out pupils of his with little hearts swimming in them zero in on yours with a look you can’t quite put your tongue on. You cross your ankles behind his back to emphasize your words, to show him you’re serious.

“Really want me to fill you up, pretty?” he rasps. When you bite your bottom lip and nod, he offers you a lopsided grin, “Use those fingers and catch up, then.”

You don’t need to be told twice, one hand moving from being around his neck down to your clit to rub quick circles that’ll push you over the edge together. He’s never cum in you ever since you both started having sex, but he’s feeling overwhelmingly possessive today and it might just subside if he sees his cum leaking from your cunt onto your sheets. It’s now the only thought screaming at him in that fucked-out head of his. Your mouths connecting in a messy, sensuous kiss is the final push he needs.

Yunho’s fingers wind deep into your sheets with as much strength as he can muster while he buries himself inside you, pelvis to pelvis, pushing you deeper into your mattress. The throb of his cock and the broken moan he lets out while he finally cums trigger your own orgasm. The moment you lock your legs around him to keep him in place, your walls flutter and squeeze his cock to help milk him dry. He makes a note somewhere in the lusty haze of his mind that he just has to get you both to cum at the same time like this again at another point in time because the way you’re practically squeezing every last drop from him while you fall apart is nearly making him whimper repentance for how sinful it feels. When your legs let up on their grip, he gives you a few shallow thrusts before finally pulling out. Focusing on catching your breath is hard when he’s gazing so heavily at the mess he’s made of you. 

“Don’t stare...” Yunho doesn’t even realize he’s been fascinated with watching the way his seed spills from your heat until you poorly block it with a self-conscious hand. Only then does he finally look up and find you flustered, the pout on your face growing more prominent by the second, “It’s embarrassing...”

“God, you’re so fine,” he coos. The jolt your body produces when he takes his fingers and pushes what’s been wasted back into your sensitive hole makes him laugh. “Even prettier like this too. Let’s get you cleaned up, pretty baby.”

Yunho hadn’t originally planned on sleeping over—it is a weekday after all, and he has work tomorrow morning. After showering, though, his willpower is tested. He loses nearly all his self-discipline to leave like a responsible man when you use this irresistible voice the moment he steps foot back into the room, humming honeyed words while holding his briefs behind your back to keep him from getting dressed.

“Can’t you just wake up early to swing by your house and get ready?” You eventually pout up at him when he looks as if he might change his mind. With the way your gaze is focused on his attentive eyes, you can’t see the way his cock is already twitching back to life again at your pleading eyes, the same ones you use on your knees between his thighs. He’s so thankful for that. “This is why I said you should leave some outfits over here just in case.”

“I know, I know. I should listen to you more. Can I please have my underwear back now?”

“Are you gonna stay? Please?”

He chuckles before finally conceding, “I can’t say no when you ask me so nicely, can I?” 

You nearly fall apart at the way he pulls your face up by your cheeks with firm fingers before planting a kiss of surrender on your lips. Yunho doesn’t even remember why he’s over your house anymore, now only focused on getting his underwear back from your hands before you can see him getting hard all over again. He has enough sense to know that a second round will surely be much longer than the previous one, and you both need to sleep soon if he wants to wake up early enough. Lucky for him, you’re much too tired from a full day to stay up too much longer anyway.

It’s 8 AM when Yunho’s phone starts chiming with an annoying tone he set specifically to force his awakening. That grating sound is also your punishment for persuading him to spend the night. He’s slow to turn it off specifically for that reason, and a lazy smile stretches across his face when he hears you groan. Success.

“You’re so annoying,” you murmur. You instinctively search for your phone on your nightstand to glance at how early your lover has you suffering, then slowly slide yourself out of bed to go blindly search for a bottle of water. 

Yunho screws his eyes shut and open a few times to regain his vision before flipping over and patiently awaiting your arrival. He gave himself a fairly decent buffer on the off chance you decide to stay awake and eat breakfast with him. At least, that was the plan until something happened that immediately changed his brain chemistry. Yunho’s eyes swivel towards your phone when it vibrates a couple of times on the nightstand. It really wouldn’t have been a problem had he not seen and recognized the name on the screen. Against his better judgment, he picks it up gently. He sees two older notifications from the prior night and the two new ones now piquing his interest. 

[Wooyoung: Don’t forget lunch tomorrow]

[Wooyoung: Usual place]

...

[Wooyoung: Good morning]

[Wooyoung: If you get on campus by 10 let's do breakfast instead, they’ll be there. lmk]

His eyes constrict to slits almost instantaneously. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me… 

He doesn’t care that it's petty, he swipes each of the message notifications and deletes them with a pool of satisfaction boiling in the deepest pit of his stomach. You were too busy with him last night to notice his other messages anyway. If he could delete those messages permanently, he would. Realistically, there was no way he could keep you from eventually meeting up again with Wooyoung, but maybe distracting you enough to be late could be worth being a bit late to his own obligations. He’s extra needy on purpose this morning, immediately seeking out your attention the moment you groggily slip back into bed after chugging water. Feeling his warm hands grope your butt just makes you groan in that special kind of annoyance that naturally comes with waking earlier than need-be. When his fingers travel to fiddle with the elastic of your panties, an indirect request of sorts, you muster enough energy to nudge him weakly.

“S’too early, Yu,” you pout without even opening your eyes and bury your cheek deeper into your pillow.

“I know, I know. I have to leave soon,” he acknowledges. Still, his hand dances its way into the fabric. He watches you shudder when his middle finger pushes against your clit experimentally. His brow lifts when you open your legs. He licks his lips eagerly before murmuring, “You don’t even have to do anything, I’ll take good care of you. Go ahead and rest, okay?”

The hum you let out, signaling him to do as he pleases, has him gently working your panties down your legs and tossing them on the floor. He spends all the time he can, all the way until the last few minutes before he has to leave, with his face buried between your tired thighs. Always a starved man when it comes to your greedy cunt, the one that he confirmed last night needs him oh so much, he french-kisses his way into a sore tongue and a stiff jaw. 

“Mhm, that’s it,” he talks directly to your heat, holding open your lips with his thumbs while watching the way slick, cum, and spit seep out to sully your sheets, “Gimme another one.”

Sleepy whines and garbled whimpers of his name have him rutting his hips against your bed. He would touch himself if he could, but his hands are too busy massaging your tense thighs in rhythm with his aching tongue lapping at your clit. The friction isn’t enough. He supposes his poor underwear will just have to suffer from precum leaking out his deprived cock, drenching the fabric the more he gets aroused. Each orgasm he’s able to pull from you drains your body of its energy more and more until you’re a meek puddle of fatigue splayed out on your mattress.

Yunho doesn’t remember what number orgasm his mouth finally parts from your core, but at some point, he finally reminds himself that he’s a man with responsibilities who still has to go home and change into his work clothes. He also needs to take care of this painful hard-on quickly when he gets somewhere private. Self-admittedly, this all was as rewarding to himself in fulfilling it as it was to you receiving. Seeing you absolutely spent and on the verge of (hopefully) deep sleep puts a shameless smile on his face. 

He’s still a gentleman above anything else, taking the extra time to clean your skin and the mess he’s made of your cunt with a wet cloth before lovingly redressing you in your undies. He doesn’t even know if you can hear him after a certain point, but he still tucks you back in and whispers sweet nothings that he’ll overthink about later when he’s in his office after remembering why he was here in the first place. He even apologizes for ruining your sheets, again. The timid, fleeting kiss he leaves on your temple is followed by him carelessly saying, “Love you.”

The moment those two words tumble from his lips his eyes grow wide, and he waits with bated breath to see if you are even the slightest bit awake to hear his blunder. When you show no signs of stirring, Yunho releases all air caged within his chest and decides it’s best to leave quickly before he can make a fool of himself any further. You don’t hear from him for the rest of the day.

-

“I see… so she does exist,” you mutter sarcastically.

At the end of the week, following your shared linguistics lecture, you and your best friend convene at a table deep in the back of the library. Yeosang had spent a good amount of his time in the last few days covertly asking questions about Wooyoung to random acquaintances in hopes of getting bits of useful information about him or his ex. He was finally able to give you her name and class year, but he came up short otherwise.

“I wasn’t able to get any of her socials, I didn’t want to seem like I was pursuing her. However, I do have another idea,” he says, hands motioning for you to hear him out after he sees your spirits drop, “I was told she’s in Hongjoong’s capstone class and–”

“Oh brother,” you groan and sink further into your seat. 

If Yeosang’s words days ago were anything to go by, Hongjoong was already convinced you were dating Wooyoung, so asking him for his ex-girlfriend’s number is surely just going to cause prying questions. You’re fully convinced that he probably won’t even consider giving it to you because he might think it’ll lead to drama. 

“I know. Just hear me out,” Yeosang leans forward and lowers his voice, “I honestly don’t think it would be hard to get him to tell you. If you can come up with a plausible reason why you would need to reach out, I think he wouldn’t hesitate too much.”

“Which would be?”

“Well, I don’t know anything about her other than that she’s in a sorority. You can figure something out from that, right?”

You couldn’t deny that this was definitely a useful piece of information. Yeosang watches you purse your lips while you toss around some of the logistics in your head before nodding with some renewed optimism.

“Which app do you think I should start on?”

“I’m sure the majority of our sororities have IG pages to promote their activities. That’s probably your best bet,” he recommends, “I can help you search in between finals prep–”

“You’ve done enough, I can definitely handle that part,” you interject with a reassuring smile, “Thank you for even getting this info. I appreciate it, Yeo.”

While things definitely looked more positive from this conversation, there was an odd feeling lingering in your stomach over the next few days. From his time at your home through the weekend, Yunho’s communication and presence were lacking a bit more than usual. While it made things easier for you to see Wooyoung when requested without fear, it didn’t make things any less disappointing. Knowing he’s still there for you even through all of this mess was the only thing keeping you afloat, so it’s troubling when that disappears out of nowhere. Nevertheless, the end of the semester was creeping up faster than even you realized, so it makes sense that his schedule is being affected. Moreover, his job is what you’re doing this all for anyway, right? Even without his presence, you’d silently root for him in the shadows if it meant that December ended with you both together. 

In the meantime, you push these feelings to the back of your mind and give yourself a break from being so worrisome. With this charade moving deeper into its timeline, it’s time-sensitive and imperative to ask for his ex’s phone number from Hongjoong in an effort to contact her. Wooyoung might be intent on keeping you from meeting her, but he’s severely underestimated the fire in your belly when it comes to getting what you want. You’ve played along with his shenanigans long enough.

Hongjoong’s brows furrow while he shoves a few of the fries in his mouth from a meal you asked to treat him to this particular Monday afternoon.

“I should’ve known you wanted to see me for ulterior motives,” he takes a swigger of his soda with pursed lips, “Buttering me up with free food for my connections, huh?”

“I didn’t remember until just now, I promise,” you lie, trying to remain composed. You’re not exactly the best at lying to your close friends and this time is no different. “If I knew about anyone else having her number I would’ve asked them. I wouldn’t lie to you, Joong.”

His eyes examine your body language keenly before scoffing, “I’m still caught up on how you didn’t tell me that your mystery man was Wooyoung all this time. That was a lie by omission.”

“I am not dating Wooyoung, I already told you this.”

“Then why do you suddenly want his ex’s number?”

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and offer him an easygoing smile that you had practiced a plethora of times before even leaving to meet him.

“I’m reaching out on behalf of a mutual friend about possibly being commissioned to make the graduation stoles for their sorority. That’s all.”

Yes, through hours of snooping and finally finding her Instagram, you discovered that she is a die-hard sorority girl for one of the smaller sororities on your campus. You had almost talked yourself into simply contacting her there, but as luck would have it, her messages were turned off for strangers that she doesn’t follow back. There was no doubt in your mind that she would never follow you back if you tried that route.

“You sure you’re not trying to stir the pot?” Hongjoong inquires playfully, eyeing you with an elvish grin. You groan in annoyance. “I’m all for a little mess sometimes, but I don’t like being the gateway.”

“Come on Joong, it’s nothing like that at all. I didn’t think you would be so difficult to ask about this… You’re supposed to be my rock—”

Your heart is threatening to break out of your chest when he holds up his free hand to quiet you with a roll of his eyes. Then, with his other hand, he finally scrolls through his phone to find said information.

“I’ve heard enough, please stop being so dramatic,” he sighs. His thumb stops swiping as soon as he sees what he’s looking for in his class’ group chat, and he hands you the phone reluctantly. “Under no circumstances do you tell her who gave this to you.”

“You know I love you the most, right? Even more than Yeosang!” You smile and he matches it sarcastically.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you liar. I love you too.”

While Yunho’s impromptu visit might have subdued his anxiety briefly, he knew it wouldn’t be a permanent fix. He spent some time away from you under the excuse of helping other people prepare more for the final paper deadline approaching, but that only made things worse. The longing he feels these days is stronger when he realizes you could be spending the valuable time he’s avoiding you by seeing Wooyoung instead. It’s embarrassing really, being so envious of someone younger than him. He shouldn’t be letting some university student get under his skin so easily, but there’s too much he’s given of himself to you to just be calm and collected about things. 

These things swirl about in his head while he’s seated alone at the bar’s counter, patiently waiting for his friends to finish playing Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who pays the tab tonight. It was fairly evident that it had been a rough start to the month for Yunho from his mood, so his best friends were intent on treating him tonight. Today and the next were the university-designated study days for finals. Seonghwa personally coaxed him out of hiding by stopping by his home and offering to drive. He knows Yunho has a hard time saying no when confronted directly. As karma would have it, it was looking to be an expensive night for Seonghwa unfortunately, marked by the heavy groan Yunho can hear come from behind him when the two finish.

When he finally joins Yunho at the counter, he searches through his wallet for his credit card while asking, “Which beer do you want?” 

“I need something stronger tonight,” Yunho states before flagging the bartender down himself.

Nowadays, he’s more favorable to something light and bubbly like beer because it’s easy on his body and the buzz is manageable over a longer period of time. He can’t remember the last time he drank pure liquor… It had to have been New Year’s Eve or some other holiday that’s usually burdened by alcohol. Yunho’s not remarkably sensitive to liquor and he’s by no means a lightweight, but tonight he’s truly done a number on himself. Three Long Island Iced Teas and a few extra shots of rum have him loose and on stage in front of many eyes doing what he does best: singing. Singing karaoke duets with Seonghwa always makes him feel like a college student again, bringing him back to the days of their music classes.

When the next hour comes around and several more shots enter his system, the second phase of his inebriation hits: heartache and depression. Distractions are wonderful until they’re not, and his throat hurts from doing too much falsetto. He keeps thinking about how he’s supposed to show you this side of himself eventually, serenading you like a cheesy romcom just to hear your pretty giggles telling him that he actually sounds like an angel, and those thoughts make him sad. On top of that, his social battery is depleted entirely and now all he can think about is going home. Distancing himself for the last several days is finally coming to an end, as you’re the only person he can think of to call since he doesn’t want to ruin his friends’ time by asking Seonghwa to take him back home. While booking an Uber ride would’ve been the smarter idea, Yunho’s too lovesick to pass up on a moment to hear your voice right now.

So, while Seonghwa is busy using the bathroom and San is distracted by an attractive woman who’s gone out of her way to challenge him to a game of pool, his hazy eyes manage to find your contact card in his favorites before calling you. You take a bit longer to answer than usual, but the moment he hears that familiarly sweet ‘hello there, handsome~’ come across his speaker, he physically melts into a heap on the counter. You can overhear the loud music coming through the speaker clear as day and figure he must be at the bar tonight with other teachers since they’re all essentially off tomorrow. Calling you of all people while with his friends is risky, but you understand why he’s being so reckless the moment he opens his mouth.

“I need to see you, please,” Yunho drawls, his free palm pressed to his forehead to ground himself, “Drank too much, wanna go home.”

“Where are you, Yu?”

Yunho’s heart feels like it’s ready to take flight at the way you ask this with no hesitation and how he can hear you already shuffling to grab clothes. Maybe your feelings are as strong as his afterall.

“At that dumb bar near campus. Hwa drove me,” he sighs, and you can practically hear the drunken pout stuck on his lips. “I’ll just send my location… Can you come, baby? Please?”

“Of course, I’ll come take you home. Sit tight, I’m leaving now.”

When you do finally arrive, Yunho lets his friends know that he ordered an Uber to go home, and successfully convinces Seonghwa not to walk with him outside even though his steps feel leadened. 

“Go back to karaoke,” he waves him off with an anxious smile, “I’ll let y’know when I get home.”

Parking so close to the entrance might’ve been a bit daring on your part, but you expected Yunho to have some trouble walking too far with too much distance. To offset the risk, you’re donning a black face mask with the hood of your jacket pulled over your head, and you figure that should conceal any particulars about you enough for any lurking eyes. Yunho’s surely more operational than he sounded over the phone, and even though his feet are slow on his way over, he slides in easily enough and even buckles himself in. From there, you focus on leaving the area before either of his friends gets curious enough to look outside.

The drive is comfortably silent. You keep the music low and drive a bit slower than usual to make sure he doesn’t feel too dizzy during the trip. Yes, you care for the man dearly, but the last thing you need is his vomit in your passenger seat. With his head resting idly on the cool glass of your window, he tries to relax his mind and settle the stuttering of his heart. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to be around you right now.

“Overdid it tonight, huh?” You ask him after a while to make sure he’s still conscious. 

“I don’t ever drink this much,” he replies with his eyes still closed, “M’so sorry for bothering you so late.”

“You didn’t bother me at all. Go ahead and relax, we’re almost home.”

His call was perfect timing actually, as you were just wrapping up exam prep for the day. Usually, you don’t take study days seriously, but with this being your last semester you figure giving your all includes taking advantage of the academic liberties that are offered by your university in exchange for not having to go to class. He was on your mind tonight as he always is, and even though the moment is unconventional, you appreciate him finally calling you at all. That’s all you can think about for the remainder of the drive to his home.

This is so embarrassing, he mopes internally. Yunho feels extremely vulnerable with every lug of his feet up his steps to his door. He’s not sure he ever wanted you to see him in such a state either—liquored up and liable to say anything lingering in his chest without inhibition—but it’s too late to worry about those things now. 

“Thank you for coming,” Yunho sighs upon entering his abode, shrugging off his coat and kicking his shoes off to a place he probably won’t remember tomorrow. 

His throat is dry and itching for something else, anything other than liquor. You know better than anyone that he needs to be drinking water right now and flushing his system as well. Closing his front door, you follow suit with your shoes and jacket.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart,” you assure him with a smile, “I’ll go get you some water.”

However, before you can slip past him, Yunho’s warm hands gently clasp around your cheeks. Your back hits the door as his sticky liquored lips squish against yours in an affectionate kiss. Much to his dismay, after only a few seconds of gratification you manage to pull back enough to talk.

“Water first, kissing later. Okay?” You chide with a giggle. 

Yunho makes a whiny noise in the back of his throat in place of a ‘no’ before stealing your lips once more. This time, his arms fall to wrap around your torso. There’s something desperate about the way his arms squeeze the air out of you as if he loosens them even in the slightest bit you might slip right from his grasp. That’s how he’s felt for some time recently like you’re slipping away right into someone else’s arms. Somewhere deep down in his intoxicated subconscious, he’s able to acknowledge the feeling of his heart slamming against his chest from pent-up anxiety of seeing you again, touching you again… and maybe lack of oxygen. Yeah, perhaps that’s what this intense feeling is building in his chest is, a blatant lack of oxygen. Breathing is just not something present in Yunho’s impaired mind. 

You, you, you, you, you!

All he wants to do is think about how he loves you more than you know.

He feels like he’s suffocating, but his brain won’t let his limbs move to breathe, lost in the thoughts and desperation of just needing to be connected to you. Just then, when he feels like he’s about to nearly pass out, you find the strength within yourself to push him from you hastily. The way you gasp for air lets him know that he was inadvertently suffocating you as well. His arms finally release their intense grip and a flurry of apologies tumble from his lips.

“M’so sorry,” he offers one last time, words running together, “I just missed you so much.”

Yunho’s head falls and rests in the crook of your neck while embarrassment floods his cheeks. 

“It’s okay, really. I missed you too,” you tell him, lungs settling while you card your fingers through his hair soothingly. He’s so fragile at this moment and seeing this side of him makes your heart melt. You could never be mad at something like a little stolen oxygen. “Let’s get you settled in first though, okay?”

“Please le’me stay like this for a couple minutes…”

He’s a bit dizzy, and your fingers lovingly massaging his scalp are making his heart feel ready to burst out of his chest. It doesn’t matter that he’s older than you, or that technically he’s an authoritative figure in your life. You’re always so soft with him, so attentive to his needs, and tender in your touch. You even came and picked him up while he was a mess, with no hesitation. For some reason, in Yunho’s inebriated mind, he’s so sure that a positive answer to this next question will finally solidify your loyalty and how you truly feel about him. 

“Can you stay with me tonight?”

There’s a moment of silence where you’re unusually still, and Yunho can practically hear your answer before you even open your mouth. Mentally, you’re battling with yourself because of premade morning plans with Wooyoung interfering with his request. Normally, you’d never decline to spend some extra time with him, but you’re not sure if blowing off Wooyoung last minute will have some consequences. Yunho’s the most important thing to you, but which choice proves that the most? 

“I have some important obligations in the morning, Yu,” you mumble a moment later, unable to outright say no. It’s hard, but you figure the best way to show him his importance to you is to put his career first, ahead of your feelings. 

In the crook of your neck you can feel him inhale, and for a second, he’s so still that you could’ve believed that he’d passed out. You’re just about to call his name when you feel him begin to tremble and snivel, and alarm bells begin blaring in your head. Lifting his head with your hands gently, you gaze up at him in panic.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” You comfort him softly, thumbs on either side of his face wiping away fat tears that begin spilling down his rosy cheeks. “I’ll stay, I will. I’m so sorry baby.”

“I can’t do this anymore, ____.”

You’re no longer worried about the warm tears spilling onto your fingers as you are the immediate tightness in your chest at such simple words. Simple, but hurtful. The last time you heard that kind of sentence, it was followed by a breakup. The pang in your chest at the realization that this is what’s probably happening makes you feel sick. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t blame him if your behavior over the last few weeks ended up being the final straw for him, and if leaving him alone drunk was the cherry on top. Your diminished communication and sudden lack of availability with obligations you could not explain… and who knows what he’s heard about your increasing closeness with his TA, if anything. You ponder if maybe that’s why he has been acting differently recently, how perhaps the rumors had finally gotten back to him. It’s hard to meet his eyes while you try to prepare yourself for words you figured you hear eventually but still never built your confidence up enough for.

“Look at me, please,” he requests. It takes a moment, but you find it in yourself to do as asked. The way Yunho’s glazed-over eyes only hold dejection when you meet them lets you know something is seriously wrong. You’ve hurt him, you just know it. You’re not sure what to expect, but it surely isn’t him following up with, “I love you so much, it’s beginning to hurt, ____.”

Yunho didn’t expect this genuine divulgence that he had finally found within himself to reveal to be met with annoyance of all things. The way your brows crease and the corners of your mouth downturn throw him for a loop.

“I know you’re drunk but you really shouldn’t say a serious word like that so easily,” you chastise him in a soft voice. 

The gentleness of your tone doesn’t change the fact that you mean that statement wholeheartedly; he’s never used that word with you when sober, so why now? You don’t want to be made a fool of when these drunken words get taken back when he’s in his right mind tomorrow. Being drunk doesn’t excuse playing around with your feelings like that.

“I mean it. I do love you, so much. Not gonna pretend to be so casual about things anymore,” he retorts. While his voice still has that intoxicated twang in it, it’s now alarmingly firm.

That sudden tone and the way his face remains determined to make you understand him make your heart stutter. In the context of romance, ‘love’ is a word you haven’t heard from someone in a long time. To be fair, it’s a word you haven’t offered to anyone you’ve dated in a long time either. How long has it been since you met someone worthy of a word that powerful… You’re at a loss for words. The increasing tightness in your chest with the more you take in the situation won’t let up, and you wonder if he can feel your anxiety through the trembling of your hands still caressing his wet cheeks. 

Yunho doesn’t mind that you don’t say it back, he may be intoxicated but he still knows he’s coming on very strong right now. Instead, he adds, “You don’t have to say it back, but I can’t handle not knowing what I am to you anymore. I can’t tell how you really see me.”

The way your face immediately only offers confusion at that final statement is involuntary—his complete obliviousness to how you feel about him, about everything you’ve done till this point, is just baffling. Despite any impending consequences of being involved with your teacher, you’ve given this man so much of your time, your adoration, your body—what is there to question? When you finally take your hands back and place them on your temples, Yunho senses your frustration. He begins to feel bad when he realizes too much liquid courage may have made him go a bit too far.

“Yunho, I thought it was pretty obvious that I want to be with you. I’m just waiting for graduation to say it officially,” you explain. “I– We’ve been dating for 3 months, for Christ’s sake.”

You try to remind yourself that he’s intoxicated and that maybe you should treat this situation with a bit more grace. The next question he throws out completely shatters that mindset.

“Then why did you kiss him?”

The immediate mortification you feel at that string of words hits you like a sledgehammer, and the silence that consumes the room following this question is deafening. Yunho’s eyes hold your shameful stare before you finally become physically uncomfortable, and you avert your gaze sheepishly. Yes, you had considered he might catch you in the act sooner or later, but did it have to be the stupid unwanted kiss of all things? This is not something you had readied yourself enough to be confronted about. It’s something you wish you could’ve taken to the grave if possible.

The lack of an immediate reply to such a simple question has him pressing his palms to his eyes because he feels himself needing to cry again. He’d do anything to turn off those leaky faucets behind his eyes for good right now if he could. Crying over someone he had no business falling for in the first place is exasperating because he knew better. He’s sure he’d be able to compose himself more than this if he wasn’t so drunk as well, but it’s too late for those kinds of thoughts now. Everything is out in the open, all the way down to the intensity of his feelings for you, and there’s no turning back.

“It’s not what you think, Yunho,” you finally offer after taking some seconds to sort out your thoughts. The thing is, there is no other viable option at this point: it’s either tell him the truth or lie and break his heart further. You would never consider doing the latter. “I want to explain, but this isn’t the best time—”

“You can be honest, I promise I can handle it,” Yunho interjects. He runs his hands through his messy hair, trying to mellow himself out and prove that statement, but his insecurities start to get the best of him. Words begin spilling out of his mouth without much thought, “Is it because we can’t go out like normal couples? Am I not giving you enough attention? I know it’s tough right now but—”

“No, no, of course not! None of that matters to me in the slightest.” 

“What is it about him, then? If it’s something I can fix or do better, I will. I promise,” he tells you earnestly, but his face already looks defeated. He still can’t even say his name. Seeing him so distraught and broken like this over your actions is like a stiff punch in the gut. The last thing you ever wanted to do was make Yunho feel like he’s not enough.

Instead of answering, you ask him, “Do you trust me?” 

As much as he should be inclined to say no with everything he’s seen, or the way you won’t give him straight answers, he just can’t say no.

“Of course I do.”

“Then I’d really love for us to have this conversation in the morning when you’re sober,” you insist, hands seeking out his for comfort and reassurance, “Please, Yunho.”

“And what happens if I wake up alone again?”

There it is. The hint of pessimism screaming at him in the back of his mind slipped through. He remembers the last time you left with no word and how it sent him irrationally spiraling. He just needs that final bit of reassurance.

“I’d never do that to you again, okay? I love you too much to hurt you like that. I promise.”

Yunho's left mute at this reply, damp lashes blinking repeatedly as his brain struggles to compute that you just said three very pivotal words he’s never heard from anyone else he’s ever dated. After not immediately reciprocating his sentiments earlier, he didn’t really ever expect them to come from your mouth anytime soon. 

“You…love–”

It happens way too fast, the wave of nausea that consumes him with how overwhelmed he begins to feel. Pulling his fingers away from yours, he clasps a clammy hand over his mouth and stumbles off toward his hallway bathroom in haste. This, of course, is not the ideal response you’d like to get back after fully confessing your feelings to a man. You try not to take it to heart and finally go to grab some water for him while he’s emptying his stomach in the bathroom.

The night comes to a close not too long later with you both burrowed in the blankets of Yunho’s bed, and he falls asleep against your chest faster than your brain will allow you to join. How lucky he is to have alcohol easily lull him to sleep after such a mess, you muse. You suppose this is as good of a time as ever to sort your thoughts and words for your explanation tomorrow. That and the possible consequences following you finally revealing the truth. While Yunho might seem mild-mannered and easygoing on a day-to-day basis, you are now aware of just how sensitive he is as a person inside. He feels with his whole heart, and he keeps certain things locked inside of him. You want him to feel comfortable enough to share those things with you as a partner. You want him to trust you wholly with his entire heart, but you suppose that begins with being entirely honest with him first. He’s more than enough, and you want him to believe that. Before you can let your mind wander too deep into the territory of that subject, your eyes finally feel unbearably heavy, and you fall asleep with your fingers curled around his own a little more securely than usual.

One thing Yunho prides himself in is not being prone to heavy hangovers, and this morning is no different. From his first couple years in college, he had learned that lots of water, sleeping in, and a good meal was the cheat code to his body’s ability to survive a night of binge drinking. This was partially thanks to his first roommate who was a Nutrition Major, because if he couldn’t discourage him from drinking he could at least aid him in recovering from it. Aside from you forcing him to drinking a few water bottles before he could sleep, throwing up the prior night and purging most of it helped a lot as well, of course.

You’re not in bed when he stirs awake, but he can hear miscellaneous noise coming from another part of his home and smell the third element of his cheat code in progress. When he finally ambles out of his room and into his kitchen after chugging the bottle of water left on his nightstand, he finds you cooking something with what little groceries he has stocked in his fridge. The sound of him pulling out a chair at his table tears your attention away from the stove.

“Good morning,” you hum. He seems fully coherent, which makes things much easier on you. “How’s your stomach?”

Yunho rubs his bleary eyes with the back of his hand while yawning, “Much better… What time is it?”

“Around eleven, I think.”

“I thought you had something to do?”

“I canceled,” you tell him, “You’re more important.”

Earlier, while Yunho was still passed out, you found some time to slip away and call Wooyoung to raincheck. You’re not entirely sure if he believed the performance you put on about coming down with something last minute, but it didn’t matter. The least he can do is give you a day off of this charade. You move the food you’ve been working on off of the stove’s eye and turn off the heat before snatching up his mug of coffee and joining him at the table. 

You look different this morning, the way your eyes lack any of their usual whimsy or humor, and how you sit yourself to his left with body language more reserved than normal. Your stress is palpable, and that doesn’t help settle the sad feeling beginning to manifest in his stomach when he realizes the conversation that’s about to begin. Nonetheless, he decides to prepare himself for the worst.

“I promised you an explanation,” you sigh, “So let’s talk.”

Messily relaying this story to Yeosang first helped you a lot with finding the confidence to make things more concise if a moment like this were ever to happen. You were able to tell Yunho the full extent of Wooyoung’s actions without getting as emotional as the last time. Even though you were trying to be truthful, you ultimately decided not to tell him about trying to connect with Wooyoung’s ex behind the scenes, as you didn’t want to give him any false hope if things happened to fall through. When you finish spilling anything left lingering in your guts about the entire situation, there’s an unbearable silence that settles over the whole room. Yunho’s eyes are trained on his coffee, finger circling the rim of his mug while he lets his mind run wild. The guilty feeling that washes over you feels heavier and heavier with every passing second of him not replying.

“I’m really sorry,” you finally break the silence with a final apology. “It’s my fault for being so pushy in your office that day. This wouldn’t have happened if I had just taken no for an answer.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, ____,” Yunho tails your sentence quickly. The tension in your chest finally dissolves when he speaks, and hearing his caring voice is really all you can ask for right now. He reaches a gentle hand over the table to cover yours for some well-needed comfort, before offering you a soft, sober smile, “I don’t want you beating yourself up for decisions we made together. I’m a grown man who makes my own choices, don’t forget that.”

When Yunho dares to ask how far Wooyoung has made you go for him physically, you assure him the worst has only been that kiss. 

“I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t fucking suck,” he groans, brows furrowing at the thought of being so stuck between a rock and a hard place, “I would remove him from class if I could. Seeing his face is going to piss me off even more than before.”

“I understand. The semester ends in a couple of weeks though… I know it might be a lot to ask for from you to deal with, but it won’t be too much longer,” you offer resignedly, though it’s not much of a consolation. Optimism is the only thing you have worth giving him at this point. You’re only optimistic yourself while banking on his ex wanting to meet with you. When he goes from frustratedly rubbing his eyes to running a hand through his hair, you feel the need to add, “I’d understand if you don’t want to deal with that though.” Yunho turns to you, his expression one of sheer incredulity.

“You really believe I would willingly let someone like him end our relationship?” The teasing lilt in his voice is refreshing to hear, even if it is a serious question underneath. He reaches his hand over and holds your chin while assuring you, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, okay?”

“That sounds more like a threat than a promise,” you chuckle.

“Maybe he should take it that way, then.”

For the remainder of the week, Yunho tries to bear through the new knowledge that Wooyoung is somewhere on campus turning you into a puppet for his own gain. It hits harder on the days when he texts you in an effort to check in on things but is met with radio silence. He was made aware that Wooyoung preferred you off of your phone when with him, but goddamn was it annoying. For your sake, he tries to keep these kinds of grievances to himself. He knows he needs to be supportive if he can help it. During this time frame, you also secretly began your effort to contact Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend. Getting left on read with your first message was to be expected. It took her a full day before she entertained you by replying back, even if it was a little snippy. Regardless, her replying at all was a step in the right direction. She opened the door and you planned to slip your way in as best you could. Between Yeosang asking for updates, his ex contacting you sporadically throughout the days, and Yunho checking in occasionally to make sure his assistant isn’t causing you problems that he’s more than happy to fix, you decide it’s best to keep your phone face down and away from Wooyoung when you’re together this week. Even if you want to keep up with your friends to pass the time, it’s just too risky.

“You haven’t told him anything, correct?” 

Wooyoung asks this out of the blue when you both convene for breakfast on Friday. You find it funny how neither of them can say each other’s name, but you suppose Wooyoung is a bit more cautious these days to keep you from getting an attitude. You’re much too tired to even entertain such a question, but you don’t want to cause any suspicion by choosing not to answer.

You yawn after muttering, “No, why?”

“He looks at me differently these days,” he muses, pushing his fork into the plush of his lips, “It’s giving me bad vibes.”

“He has a lot on his plate with finals that you can’t help him with. I’m sure the stress is overwhelming. Cut him some slack.”

Picturing Yunho trying to give Wooyoung the evil eye when they cross paths everyday has you turning your head away, suppressing a smile to keep from laughing at the end of your sentence.

“You know better than I do,” he acknowledges with a nod and leaves the conversation at that.

Yunho begins losing a bit more of his resolve that same day when he catches Wooyoung rushing to meet you out the door after class, calling out your name right in front of his face. He doesn’t particularly care for the carefree tone of his voice, and he feels like doing something so openly is too cocky for his liking. His fingernails rake at the material of his slacks irritably from behind his podium as he opens his mouth.

“Wooyoung,” Yunho calls out before he can consult his better judgment. 

When his assistant spins to face him, Yunho finds himself at a loss for words. He didn’t really think this part through. His eyes flicker to you, who’s waiting patiently by the door for your puppetmaster to join you, then back to Wooyoung. That’s when he makes the executive decision to steal him away from you for the next hour or so. He deserves that satisfaction at least. 

“I wanted to discuss some things about my schedule regarding final papers next week, and then submitting final grades,” Yunho exhales while clasping his hands together. 

He throws in a free and easy smile to twist the knife because his assistant loses all joy in his face at his words. The brief glance you exchange with your teacher as Wooyoung reluctantly ambles back to his station holds a world of emotions, conveying everything words cannot. The gratification he receives from simply seeing you nod and smile while departing alone for the day gives him everything he needs to complete his day with renewed composure.

Mondays generally suck for Yunho, but this final one of the semester is absolutely atrocious.

Today, he’s had the worst technical difficulties in both of his morning lectures with no valuable help from the University’s IT department. One of his biggest pet peeves is not being taken seriously when he’s working, especially as a younger teacher, and it seems that they put his issues on the back burner all morning since he’s not one of the elderly professors. Regardless, he made things work even through the giggles of some students. It’s his final class before exam week begins, the least he can do is end his spiel of encouragement towards the final paper deadline on a good note.

If things had ended there, then he would’ve had a decent rest of his day. Spilling hot coffee all over his white button-up that he rarely ever even wears puts a permanent grimace on his face for the remainder of the morning. He tries his best to dab it out with water when he gets a free moment during his lunch break, but he’s one hundred percent sure he made the liquid spread much worse. Coupled with him not even being able to put his tie back on properly in an attempt to fashion it in a way that hides the stain, he’s exactly three seconds away from deciding to go home for the rest of the day. 

He decides to work through lunch in his office instead so he can end the day early once he’s finished. At least this way nobody could see how much of a mess he is today. But, after a while of Yunho holing up in his office and hiding from the rest of the world as long as he can manage, his phone vibrates with an unexpected call from San. He presses the answer option reluctantly and puts it on speaker.

Before he can even say hello, San’s voice is already excitedly asking, “You on lunch?”

“Something like that,” he chuckles weakly, and San can hear the clicks of his mouse in the background. When he hears San ‘tsk!’ in disapproval of him working, he sighs, “You know me, work’s never done. Shouldn’t you be teaching a class right now?”

“Bathroom breaks are important for everybody.”

“And you decided to call me during yours why?”

“Listen, I know you told me not to make any unannounced visits to your classroom but,” San pauses to laugh at the foolishness of what he’s about to say. “But, it seems that your student has done this to me today instead. I suppose that means today is fair game, right?”

Yunho’s hands pause their movements as he filters through his mind what exactly his friend might be referring to. When he finally recalls that line from their conversation on the day his friends briefly met you, his face pales. San adds that you seem to be dressed oh-so-pretty today and Yunho’s brows crease, not only in irritation at him talking so liberally about you but in confusion. Yunho’s prolonged silence at what should be insignificant information is duly noted in San’s mind. 

Truth be told, San did not call Yunho just for shits and giggles. A few days ago, during a shared lunch break, Seonghwa had come to him secretly about Yunho’s recent behaviors:

“You can’t be serious Seonghwa,” San laughs wholeheartedly at his friend’s implications. “Yunho is a bit desperate these days, but he’s not that desperate.” 

“You can’t say I’m being delusional.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just saying that it probably isn’t what it seems like.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes so far back that it almost hurts, “Enlighten me on why he’s being so secretive when I ask then.”

“You asked him about her directly?”

“Not exactly… but I asked him about dating someone,” Seonghwa leans back in his chair and sighs, “He told me nothing. Barely even got a peep about where he met the woman. A Tinder match has got him so quiet? It just doesn’t make sense.”

“And you think it’s his student because of what exactly?”

“I didn’t say anything at the time but I saw a glimpse of his phone a month or so ago,” Seonghwa snaps his fingers while he tries to remember the details, “That night we went to that fancy lounge uptown, remember?”

“And?”

“When he was using the bathroom, he left his phone face up on the couch. I didn’t mean to pay too much attention to it, but it lit up with a text and I recognized the name.”

San pushes the food around in his Tupperware with pursed lips while he tries to rationalize this revelation. Seonghwa does have a point… Why in the world would you have been texting him at 10 PM? San’s a pretty laid-back teacher himself, but none of his students have his personal number. All teachers do things differently though, he knows this. Still…

San lowers his voice to ask, “What did the message say?”

“I didn’t see that part,” his friend continues, the disappointment in his voice making San snicker, “He came back too quickly. I mentioned it in passing though, and he said they text occasionally about her schoolwork.”

Seonghwa uses his fingers to put air quotations around that last word; as if he’d ever believe a student is texting their teacher close to midnight about “schoolwork”. He’s slightly offended that Yunho thinks he’s that much of a fool.

“That’s not that implausible—”

“I’m calling bullshit. She’s at the very least got a crush on him and he’s playing into it,” Seonghwa states plainly. 

San resumes eating his lukewarm leftovers, humming, “I really don’t think he would risk getting fired over hooking up with his student. We barely even see him flirt with people outside of work… Anything beyond that just isn’t him. You know this.”

The conversation didn’t last much longer than that, and San had effectively convinced Seonghwa to simply mind his business at the time. He ponders for a second if he should have a serious talk with Yunho about the repercussions that could come to him if Seonghwa’s speculations were true, as he obviously doesn’t want to see one of his best friends lose their job. San may joke around a lot about these kinds of things, and he’s overly flirtatious with a numerous amount of people that may or may not include younger women, but he knows he’d never cross the line and put his job in jeopardy like that. 

It’s always been complicated. Yunho is an exceptionally loyal person and a hopeless romantic, but very few people get to see that side of him. San has seen plenty of women attempt to pursue him with both good and bad intentions, and Yunho has difficulty deciphering sometimes. That being said, when his friend is head over heels for someone, there is nothing he won’t do. There have been plenty of times when Yunho has done some stupid things because of stupid impulses when it comes to women he falls hard for. Don’t get him started about when he had to talk him out of getting a tattoo just because a girl he fell for told him she preferred “bad boys” when turning him down. He feels with all of his heart, and that’s honestly something San admires about his friend. 

He supposes while he has him on the phone, he should push the boundaries to see how he replies. 

“She’s been outside of my class for nearly half an hour,” San continues in a nonchalant voice, stoking the fire, “I was wondering if I should invite her to join in on the lecture, maybe chat—”

Unfortunately for San, Yunho’s already having a bad enough day, and he doesn’t need his friend joking about trying to pick up his woman. 

“Do not bother her,” Yunho interrupts him in a voice with a steely edge that makes the instruction come out slightly more bitter than he intends it to. He immediately regrets letting that kind of emotion slip through and becomes bashful, quickly sputtering a playful jab at his friend instead, “Getting a girl’s attention without buying her a drink first? That would be an amazing feat from you anyway.”

“Getting a girl’s attention at all recently would be an amazing feat for you too,” San quips back with a laugh, but he makes a mental note of this peculiar reaction. It surely doesn’t help extinguish Seonghwa’s conspiracies planted in his head. “Anyway, my class ends in half an hour, so I’m sure she’s just waiting for a friend to come out.”

At that suggestion, a thought crosses Yunho’s mind that makes his stomach churn. 

“San, tell me something. Do you have a student named Wooyoung Jung in your class?”

“I do indeed, how did you know?”

I’ve got to be losing my mind… 

That’s the only explanation Yunho can come up with as to why he’s speed-walking from his building in the middle of campus to the one that hosts San’s class a handful of minutes away. It’s brisk out, evident by the sharp chill of early December running down his back with every quick stride, but it’s a perfect excuse for why his cheeks are so red. He’s not flustered, he’s just cold… of course.

The moment he spots you rocking back and forth on your feet in front of San’s lecture hall, patiently thumbing away at your phone, his chest aches. You’re dolled up today just like San alluded to, wearing a pretty dress that he’s never even seen you in before. Coupled with some makeup and your hair done charmingly, he gets flashbacks to when you both went on your very first dinner together. This doesn’t fare well with Yunho’s mood.

The tap he does on your shoulder startles you enough to elicit a squeal, and that shock doesn’t change even when you realize it’s Yunho beckoning for your attention. 

“I– What are you doing here?”

When Yunho’s brows furrow in offense at your question, you wince. You don’t mean to sound like the last thing you want to do is see him right now, but this is not the best time for him to be showing himself. The last thing you need is for him and Wooyoung to cross paths outside of the classroom with you directly in the middle. Nevertheless, you don’t even get an answer to that query. The moment your arm is snatched and your feet drag while your captor hauls you away from your waiting spot, you internally scold yourself about how you’re probably the easiest kidnapping victim ever. To be fair, he’s a lot stronger than he looks.

“Wait, I have a date with Wooyoung–” 

“I do not care,” he snaps back.

He doesn’t bother responding to any more of your attempts of chiding him, eyes too busy following the signs that guide him to where the nearest restroom is. When he stumbles upon an unoccupied handicapped restroom, he sighs in relief and pulls you in before closing and locking the door. 

“What is wrong with you?” You sputter in a dumbfounded, hushed voice. 

Yunho’s face is splotchy, and he’s visibly agitated while his eyes dodge between your outfit and your face, “Why do you look like that?”

What a silly question, truly. 

In his mind, the problem lies within who you’re looking so beautiful for, and not the fact that you look beautiful at all. Yunho rarely gets to see you as it is, but this prick’s got you dressing up for him? Surely this isn’t necessary, because you’re beautiful enough to make anyone jealous as you already are. In his eyes, anyway.

“I just told you I have a date and I needed to look nicer,” you argue. Before he can muster up another pointless question, you fold your arms across your chest, “Right now is really not the time to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, I’m annoyed.”

“Then why are we here, Yunho?” His eyes finally shy away from yours when you motion to your surroundings. He hates it when you use his first name like this because he knows that often accompanies the tone of displeasure. The last thing he wants to do is upset you. You sigh, “Can’t you hold out just a little longer?”

“Dressing up so pretty for him doesn’t help me feel any better.”

“Making a scene about it doesn’t necessarily help anything either, does it?”

You’d snicker at the shameful silence that follows that statement if the situation wasn’t so genuinely distressing to him. He’s genuinely upset, you get it. You’d never admit it out loud, but a piece of you likes seeing him like this: wound-up, needy, and protective. The roles were reversed not too long ago about Wooyoung particularly, so seeing him show that same yearning and agitation when the tables are turned, even if it’s in terrible circumstances, makes you feel validated. Still, you do what you can to ease his mind for now.

“You’re too handsome to be this envious, love,” you murmur sweet nothings. He remains silent, letting those words swirl around in his head while you reach out to fiddle with the kink in his tie until it’s fixed. His lip juts out when you chuckle at the stain sullying his shirt underneath. Your eyes gaze up at his fondly before you add, “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m yours and yours only before you start believing it?” 

Yunho soaks in every syllable of that soothing voice of yours while his eyes settle on your glossy lips when they talk. Anything not to look at those eyes that could surely make him get on his knees and apologize profusely for causing a scene. He’s so predictable sometimes, you muse. You’re sure a kiss or two to help settle his jealousy before you have to leave won’t hurt anyway.

Just as you predicted, he can’t help himself, and the feeling of his impatient hands grabbing at your waist and his lips slotting over yours ignites this fire inside the pit of your stomach. Your butt hits against the counter of the bathroom sink and your hands try to find purchase on his blazer.

“Reminders never hurt, right?” he breaks briefly to mumble before slipping his tongue into your mouth. You indulge him, falling victim to that sinful mouth of his as you always do.

And, sure, maybe kissing you should be enough to quell such intense feelings inside of him, but it’s just not. The thought that Wooyoung also has the ability to kiss you whenever he wants to enhance whatever convoluted plan he has going on makes it almost insignificant. Instead, his hands haphazardly drift under the hem of your dress, because he’s the only one allowed to touch you like this. He hopes so, anyway. 

His warm fingers drag up the soft skin of your inner thighs with no hesitation, and your hands grapple onto his blazer tightly when he reaches the apex to stop briefly at your clothed cunt. Yunho swallows the surprised yelp you let out into his mouth when he begins to rub up and down, pressing on your clit through the cotton and feeling how damp you already are just from kissing him. God, it never gets old, the way he turns you on so easily. You shudder when he tugs your panties to the side and drags his lips in wet kisses from your lips to your ear.

“I’m gonna be late, Yu…” you complain, voice airy and whiny when his thumb rubs at your clit.

“I’m really sorry,” he murmurs while kissing the shell of your ear, “I’m just really pissed off today. You understand, right, angel?”

He punctuates that statement by finally slipping two fingers into your sopping cunt.

Yunho’s a mess. 

He stares at himself in the mirror behind you while his fingers busy themselves with pushing in and out of your cunt. How did he get to such a point, experiencing so many intense emotions over someone he never should’ve fallen in love with in good conscience? How did he end up in this bathroom with his fingers evoking such sloppy noises from between your legs? He stares at how flushed he is in the cheeks with your glittery lipgloss smeared all over his lips and beyond. This is beyond silly…

Yunho swears he’s not actually such a jealous person, he swears, but the current circumstances are doing a number on his mental health. He deliberately curls his fingers up against that plushy spot he loves to find within you and watches tremors travel through your back. Aside from some tiny gasps and whimpers that are barely audible unless you’re close enough to hear them, you’ve learned your lesson on being quiet in these situations, and you keep your lips pressed together tightly. The way your knees are buckling and your hands are clutching onto him for dear life—yes, this is just what he needs. He’s never felt such an intense need to see someone cum in his life.

“Do you want more?” Yunho suddenly breathes against your ear, pressing a loving kiss on your warm skin before pulling back to look you in the eyes, “I’ll do whatever you want me to, even if you just want me to stop.”

As God is his witness, he means every word. He’ll get down on his knees and suck an orgasm from you if you want him to. He’ll hold you against the wall and fuck any word other than his name out of your head if you want him to. To be honest, deep down he just wants to see if you’d blow off your date with this nuisance—even for just a few minutes—to let him satisfy you. Those shiny eyes of yours innocently blinking at his inquiry could make him melt on the spot. You don’t know how much time has passed since you got dragged in here, or how much time there is left of Wooyoung’s class, but your hands move faster than your brain when considering these things as a problem. 

His fingers slip out of your core and into his mouth the moment your hands drop to fumble with his belt hurriedly. There are no words spoken, and the only sounds filling the quiet air of the bathroom are Yunho’s belt buckle coming undone and clattering against the floor tiles once his pants are shoved down. He pushes down his underwear and quickly fists his cock while you turn to bend over the sink. It doesn’t take much to get him hard because seeing you so wet and ready for him to stretch you out with no care for anything else turns him on to the highest degree. 

After tugging your panties down what he deems is enough, he doesn’t even bother teasing and prods at your hole so eagerly that it’s almost embarrassing. The soft gasp you both share when Yunho’s tip fully slips into your cunt by accident makes your stomach manifest butterflies. 

Your hands grip the edges of the counter while he continues pushing forward, mouth agape and brows drawn together while watching the way the tight skin stretches around him and sucks him in greedily. When you finally feel his thighs meet yours, you release a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding heavy in your lungs. 

“You’re so wet, slipped in so easily,” he huffs, giving you an experimental thrust to see all your arousal coat his cock again before he bunches your dress around your waist in his hands. “Gonna be good for me and stay quiet, right?”

“I should ask you the same,” you whisper, giving him a coy gaze through the mirror. 

The smirk tugging at his lips in place of laughing is followed by a knowing nod, and you close your eyes when he finally begins moving his hips. Yunho has no intention of purposefully rushing things to get you back to your obligations any quicker than him bringing you here. Even so, he isn’t going slow or taking his time like he treated you the last time you had sex. No, this is an exceptionally needy fuck today, with hasty, desperate thrusts that make his eyes flutter closed and chest feel heavy with noises of arousal just begging to creep out. He just can’t help himself; Yunho swears your cunt was perfectly crafted just for him. 

When he feels your knees buckle after one particular angled thrust, he groans lowly, “Right there, angel?” 

With a nod of your head, Yunho's hands move from your dress to your hips, fingertips digging deep into the plush skin while he reciprocates that previous thrust over and over and over until you’re gripping the sink spout to maintain some of your sanity. 

“I need more Yu, please,” you beg him in a whisper, cock-drunk eyes meeting his own in the mirror, “More, more—please—harder.”

You want nothing more than for him to just grab a fist full of your hair and make a mess of your sopping cunt—to ruin your makeup and send you back out to Wooyoung looking like a mess. You crave that pure and raw act of Yunho showing him who you truly belong to. Knowing your lover, he wouldn’t decline the opportunity to assert his dominance in this situation, but you have enough self-control to keep those desires to yourself. He’s giving you enough to handle anyway, firmly pressing your stomach to this counter with strong hands and settling on a brutal pace to satisfy your request. The sounds of skin slapping skin echo amongst desperate pants and gasps from you both every time he bottoms out just as fast as he pulls back.

The steamy air of the bathroom is interrupted when your phone begins ringing on the counter. You know it’s probably Wooyoung finally out of class and wondering where you are. You can’t blame him, as you had explicitly told him you’d be waiting for him outside the classroom. 

Even so, you can’t seem to care enough to remove your focus from Yunho, your unwavering eyes still locked on his own through the mirror as he continues snapping his hips into you quickly. Yunho would be lying if he said this attention didn’t go straight to his head. He knows you shouldn’t ever have to prove it, but the reassurance he feels from seeing your devotion to him in real time makes his chest tight with adoration. The way nobody else matters to you right now, and how he’s the center of your attention, chips away at every inch of jealousy he was feeling earlier. 

Yunho’s hands abruptly pull you off the sink by your arms and up against him. This new position with your back arched and you on your toes has you seeing constellations, and you know you probably aren’t going to last much longer with the way he’s also heaving just behind your ear. When one hand of his moves down to rub sticky circles on your clit, you presume he’s close as well. Yunho feels like he’s going crazy, mind spinning with thoughts of if you keep squeezing him like this, he might just accidentally cum—

“Inside,” you whimper, “Please.”

He finds himself groaning against your skin, teasing you by breathing, “Going on a date with another man’s cum in you’s kinda rude, no?”

“Don’t care, please, please.”

As usual, how can he say no when you beg so cutely? He did say he’d do whatever you want, after all. Your eyes flutter closed and you focus on the final sounds of Yunho’s soft grunts and your shaky exhales mingling in the air while he ruts up into you quickly. It always seems like he knows your body better than you know yourself these days because his hand covers your mouth before he gives the last few sharp thrusts that precede him finally spilling into you, and he successfully stifles the desperate moan you would’ve let fly out once you fall apart in his arms. 

“Quiet– Oh fuck, that’s it,” Yunho hisses, letting out a soft moan at the way you struggle to stand while your legs tremble and your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. He’s dangerously too addicted to this feeling already; you should’ve never introduced something so heavenly to him. He can’t stop his hips from beginning to buck again in messy strokes, intent on fucking you through your orgasm even if he’s sensitive himself. Watching the way you bite down on your lip to keep quiet as told, he whispers well-deserved praises in between kissing your skin, “Taking it so well, sweet girl. You really were made for me. Shhh, I’ve got you.”

Yunho only stops himself when your body becomes pliant in his arms, fully surrendering to fatigue and overstimulation. He waits patiently until you can put your weight back onto your feet before finally releasing his grip. When he finally pulls himself out, he’s not quick enough to step away, and his seed spills from you onto his pants still pooled around his ankles. The handful of curses spilling from his mouth at his fuck-up has you shushing him in between breathless laughs. 

“I’m an idiot,” he groans.

“Yes, and that’s exactly what you get for dragging me in here.”

Yunho spends a handful of minutes using wet napkins to make his pants look a little more presentable while you do the same with the mess you’ve both made soiling the insides of your thighs. He doesn’t even try to hide the satisfied smirk tugging at his lips while inconspicuously watching you try your best to get his cum to stop seeping out of your core. There’s just not enough to properly clean up, and he finds this just as gratifying as getting you here in the first place. To be fair, you were the one who told him that you didn’t care. On that note, he goes to grab your discarded phone and ushers it your way eagerly. 

“You should call your date and let him know you’ll be wherever very soon,” he insists, “I’m sure he’s waiting patiently.”

“Rushing me out after throwing such a fit is crazy,” you mutter while pulling your panties back up. You’re sure he’s just obsessed with the thought of his cum making a cameo on your date.

“A man can’t change his mind?”

As you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, quickly dabbing at your neck with napkins to clean any smeared lip gloss, Yunho leans against the bathroom wall and tries to decide how long he should wait in the bathroom before leaving after you. Between watching the way you apply a fresh coat to your lips and entering post-nut clarity, he’s a bit too scatterbrained to think about this critically, but he’s brought back to the moment when you finally spin around with a sigh.

“Do I look okay?”

There’s a bit of anxiety hidden in that question, evoked by the fear of looking disheveled or being perfumed with the smell of sex, but those thoughts are quickly extinguished when he gives you those eyes that look as though he’s falling in love with you all over again. Maybe it’s that special afterglow that sex grants, but to him, in this moment you look even better than when you enter this bathroom with him. You’re exceptionally beautiful at all times, and he doesn’t even have to answer that question for you to know his thoughts. After planting a quick peck of farewell on his cheek, Yunho stays hidden away against the wall out of view of the door so you can finally leave and call Wooyoung. He’ll hold off on teasing you about the little limp in your walk until you see each other again in private.

The following day, you find yourself seated alone at the familiar table tucked away in the back of the library, the very spot where you and Yeosang often retreated for private discussions. Wooyoung’s ex was supposed to be seated in front of you 10 minutes ago. I’m giving her 5 more minutes before I leave. She was the one who finally asked you to meet with her after a bit of cordial back and forth, so being late to her own plans didn’t necessarily make you as sympathetic to her situation as before. You suppose you should give her a little more grace, considering this is your only opportunity to try and put an end to the madness of Wooyoung’s chasing. Still, you’re a busy woman who needs to prepare for your first exam tomorrow.

“____?” 

A soft voice emerges from behind you that has you craning your head to seek out its owner.

“Hello,” you greet her, and your eyes follow her as she ambles around the table to set down her bag to settle in across from you. “Didn’t know if you were still going to show up.”

“I apologize for being late,” she sighs, embarrassment blossoming on her cheeks. With her first question, she wastes no time delving into the purpose of your meeting, “So, how long have you and Woo been dating?”

Due to her Instagram page being locked down, you hadn’t seen very many pictures of her before this meeting. You were only able to get glimpses of her in a scarce amount of posts on her sorority’s page that included all sisters. In person, she’s exceptionally beautiful, and you expected nothing less of someone being so heavily pursued. Your blatant staring and lack of reply to her question have her glancing at you quizzically.

It’s a bit surreal at first, but it finally sinks in that sitting in front of you is the very person of Wooyoung’s desires. An involuntary giggle escapes you at how silly this situation is, as you were never really prepared to be confronted by the very girl Wooyoung kept you from knowing this whole time. She was merely a faceless hindrance to your life, to the point of even doubting her existence at one point. Your reaction doesn’t fare well with her, and she’s noticeably bothered at being laughed at. 

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you offer a genuine apology before leaning onto the table on your elbows and admitting truthfully, “Not too long at all, just about a month.” 

Still, way too long, you’d like to add. Even though she visibly relaxes at this revelation, you can see a conflicting look flicker behind her eyes.

“I still don’t really understand why you contacted me,” she sighs, but the look in her eyes just doesn’t correspond. 

You’re sure she knows exactly why you reached out and exactly what you want to say; surely she already knows she is all Wooyoung wants. During this conversation, you had planned to tell a series of half-truths. She didn’t need to know how you got wrapped up in this mess, but you figured it’d be helpful to admit that Wooyoung only thinks of her when he’s with you. Maybe you’d give her some empathetic spiel about how you “think” he hasn’t moved on from his feelings for her, and make it a bit emotional on your end. Despite those words dancing on the tip of your tongue, ready to give your best performance, you realize that she looks as if she wants to do your job for you. So, you play into it and let her take the wheel.

“You look like you want to ask me something,” you observe, “I’m all ears.”

Sitting up a bit more erect in her chair, she meets your eyes head-on.

“I’d like to ask you if…” But, her voice falters before she can get to the tail of her request. 

You wonder if it’s a pride thing that’s keeping her from being honest with herself. She wants him back, you’re sure of it, but she’s the one who broke things off initially. Maybe she’s embarrassed, you muse. You suppose you could gently guide the conversation, posing the question she hesitates to voice herself.

“Do you want me to break up with him?” You ask forthrightly.

“I do,” she finally confesses, “I was hesitant about rekindling our relationship, but you reaching out to me made me feel more confident that I should ask. I’m so sorry.”

Feigning indecision is easy, and pretending to fight your feelings about the situation is the cherry on top. It wouldn’t be believable if you gave up too easily, so the uncomfortable silence is more than necessary. The false front is believable enough because she cuts into the tense silence before you can even respond.

“I made a mistake and I would just like a second chance with him. I know I’m asking for a lot from you, and I want him to be happy, but I can’t pretend that I don’t still love him anymore,” she rambles on, trying her best to be authentic, “We were together for quite some time and—”

“I’m aware,” you finally interject. When she downcasts her eyes, you perch your head in your palm and sigh, “Wooyoung is still in love with you as well. I don’t want to be with someone who’s still caught up on someone else anymore. You understand?”

The way her eyes light up at this revelation makes yours soften. Even though Wooyoung’s actions may be maddening to you, you can tell he genuinely brings her joy. They both truly love each other.

“I don’t know how to go about this,” she admits after a moment of thought.

"Just tell him you want him back. He'll probably end things with me right away," you say bluntly. You feel it's best to give her a gentle nudge to act sooner rather than later, though. So, you add, "I think he’s been planning a trip for us after finals, but I'm sure he'd rather go with you. Please, do it soon."

Underscoring the word please to her might come across as begging, but at this point, you are beyond caring. Going your separate ways after closing this conversation feels like a hefty weight lifted off of your shoulders. In the end, you’ve done what needed to be done in terms of setting the stage; now it was time for her return to the spotlight as the lead. 

The next morning, you awaken to a text from Wooyoung finally breaking your arrangement off. He doesn’t go into any specifics of what happened, but at any rate, you don’t need or care to know. As far as you’re concerned, he’s fully evaporated from your life the moment you delete his text thread. You find that your coffee and breakfast taste better than normal with one less weight of stress hanging over your head. Exchanging many [Good luck!] texts with Yunho has him subsequently requesting to meet with you after today’s exam. That is how you ended up dawdling around your favorite aisle in the campus bookstore just before lunch. You had decided to turn in your textbook rentals early and put all of your faith in your notes for these next few days. The only other thing really lingering over your head was to finally turn in your final paper for Yunho’s class before midnight.

You start to get a bit impatient when Yunho fails to show up after your proposed meeting time, and you wonder if maybe he’s in the wrong spot. With calculated steps, you begin to roam the nearby shelves, reluctant to call out his name too many times in such a quiet place. There are only but so many aisles he could be in within this store anyway. After a couple of minutes peeking into different empty aisles, you finally decide he’s simply just late. You venture back to your original aisle and decide to browse in the meantime; this is the last time you’d ever be stepping foot in this place, so it couldn’t hurt to chew over a last-minute purchase. No matter how frequently this aisle has seen your presence in the last few years, you never fail to find something new that piques your interest. Unfortunately, today’s mark is a small book with the prettiest spine, and it sits just out of your reach on the top shelf. Being unobtainable only makes your curiosity even more inevitable.

Stretching every muscle in your body as far as it’ll give to try and at least graze the spine fails; there’s just no use, and it seems appealing to simply give up. The moment you finally fall back on the heels of your feet, you can feel the sturdiness of a chest slyly pressing against your back while reaching for that very same book just out of your reach. 

“You should really be more aware of your surroundings,” Yunho’s smooth voice hums next to your ear after feeling you freeze up underneath his presence. He plucks the book from the shelf with ease and sighs. You can feel his breath fan out on your neck and even smell the mint on his breath when he adds a playful jab, “Short stuff.”

“And you should really be more punctual,” you quip back, trying your best to ignore his proximity. 

He’s dressed casually today, charmingly sporting a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater since classes are officially over. If you didn’t already know who he was, a simple glance would have you thinking he was a student himself.

“Oh c’mon pretty, at least I’m here like I said I’d be, right?” He reasons excitedly while offering you a toothy grin that’s way too cute for your liking. The gentle tap of the book on the crown of your head has you scrunching up your nose, and he sets it aside. “You sure this section is private enough?”

“One hundred percent. I used to sit here in my free time when I wanted to read books without buying them,” you admit, adding, “No cameras over here either.”

Yunho eyes you curiously. You're practically glowing today, evident to him by the smile you can’t seem to keep off of your face even when you feign annoyance at his tardiness. He presses a hand to the shelf ledge behind you while the other finds solace in his pocket with his belongings.

“What’s got you so happy today?”

He’s torn between whether you’ll say something about already being rid of one exam, or maybe your spontaneous rendezvous with him here has you that giddy. Your eyes gaze back into his expectant ones and you find yourself finally able to relax for the first time in many weeks. 

“It’s all over, Yunho.”

Normally, a sentence like that would seem ominous, but the wide stretch of your lips has his poor heart shooting into his throat. It’s the way your eyes are lit while saying his name that really gets him. His pocketed hand finds its way to your cheek and his thumb skims the apple of your cheek. This kind of smile is something he hopes he can evoke from you on his own in the near future.

“I really missed seeing you this happy,” he confesses, “You look like you can breathe again, ____.”

Something about the way those soft chocolate eyes of his are openly admiring every inch of your face, committing this kind of happiness from you to memory, has you shrinking back in shyness and averting your gaze.

Eager to move the spotlight off yourself, you inquire, “So… why’d you wanna meet up here?”

Oh, that’s right…

Yunho’s decision to drive to campus today mainly stemmed from the fact that you would already be here. He didn’t want you to have to go out of your way just for him to see you, especially after an exam. A clandestine meeting in the bookstore, which you assured him beforehand would be devoid of many students, seemed like a feasible option. He moves to wrap his arms around you, pressing you against his chest in a firm embrace. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist.

“It’s going to be a very busy week for me with grading final papers all by myself,” Yunho begins tentatively. 

His eyes close and he focuses on slowing down his heart that’s beating a bit too prominently in his chest when your ear is pressed against it. There are a lot of emotions coursing through him today, many he can’t quite decipher, although he supposes maybe that’s just everything he’s been feeling throughout the entire semester coming to a head: love, jealousy, desperation, angst, and more. Even amongst the newfound happiness blossoming within his chest at such a detrimental obstacle being overcome, anxiety is still the most overwhelming feeling consuming him. It’s a bit nerve-wracking inching closer and closer to the final moments where he can confidently say you’re his with no repercussions. He’s been reflecting on how things will change between you both when finally crossing over this hump, and how things will flourish sans the threats to your futures. He doesn’t want to get too ahead of himself, though.

“Continue,” you encourage him, “I’m listening.”

“I just wanted to see you in person before I have to disappear, and tell you that I know you’re going to do amazing on your exams,” Yunho’s gentle voice imparts. He lowers it further to add, “I’m very proud of you and…”

When he trails off, you turn to plant your chin on his chest and peer up at him with coy eyes, “And?”

“And… I love you,” he whispers, eyes flickering up for the briefest second to confirm you’re still in solitude. 

Your gentle laughter at his neverending caution is like music to his ears. He’s still learning how to comfortably say those words without being fearful of not hearing them back. The feeling of his arms letting you go in favor of his hands holding either side of your face steals the opportunity to return his words of adoration. Instead, you put those unspoken words into the kiss he doesn’t hesitate to initiate. When you reach up and pull him by the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and encouraging him to let go, he feels his nerves finally melt away for this moment and this moment only. Yunho pulls away before he can get too lost in the feeling of not caring where you both are, and the way you’re led to chase his lips has heat prickling your cheeks.

“You know, the store’s nearly empty… Might even just be me and you,” you hum. Yunho’s eyes don’t leave yours, even as he feels your hand mischievously skirt down his chest to tap at the belt buckle under his sweater. When your fingers dare to dance further down to the crotch of his jeans, he finally takes hold of your wrist. “Oh come on, are you still nervous?”

He shakes his head confidently, “Just think it’d be more fun to reward you once your exams are over. Making you wait a lil might be fun, no?”

“You sure you can go a couple weeks without it?” You taunt him with a cock of your head. “All that stress while grading finals adds up, no?”

“Is this coming from the same woman who spent two weeks away from me in the arms of another man before I knew about it?” He immediately counters, eyebrows dancing with mischief. “I’ll be just fine. You, on the other hand, are a needy little thing it seems.”

“Don’t make me consider going back,” you warn him.

Yunho eyes find the ceiling as he inhales a deep, frustrated breath. Provoking him like this is unfair and dirty. If he were a man with no self-control, he’d have half a mind to have you in this aisle on your knees, putting that mouth to better use than spouting such nonsense. For now, he simply purses his lips and nods curtly. 

“That’s okay, be that way,” he concedes in a voice low enough for your ears only, “Because the next time I get my hands on you…” 

He trails off while palming your ass through your leggings and squeezing to his heart’s content. The yelp you let out at his fingers sinking in a little deeper than usual makes a pleased smile tug at his lips. He’d say a lot more, let those lewd thoughts entering his mind go freely for once, but the sounds of feet shuffling not too far away shut him up just as fast as he could think to say them. You both separate abruptly and face opposite shelves. How disappointing…

Yunho clears his throat before finally sighing, “On that note, I look forward to receiving your paper tonight.”

“I look forward to you reading it, Mr. Jeong,” you hum, and he can hear the smile lingering on your words. It’s been quite some time since he heard such formalities come from your mouth. “I hope it ends up being worth the wait. You did help me craft it, after all.”

Behind you, his warm chuckle is followed by him laying a comforting hand on your head. 

“See you at graduation, ____,” he whispers. 

When he departs, being left alone doesn’t feel so lonely for once.

♡ taglist: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr @txt-yaomi @thisisntmyrightera @oreoqueen @jadeneliz @atinism @uarmytess @nopension @aaaaajonghooooo @tmtxtf @ateezallday @bloomyroses @shingene @likexaxdaydream @innsomniacshinestar @st4rhwa @eixila @sunflower-png @jadeneliz @witchlaughwoo @ashlurrr @justthattheatregirl @bts-army380 @trivia-134340 @marvelous-llama @uarmytess @hyukssunflower @ateez-atiny380 @dazzlingstarrs @fxckinmingi @348kg @moonlightgrleric @kirilunimimi @tvxqnnie

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #forbidden romance #yeosang #teacher x student #hongjoong #reader insert #secret relationship #x reader #wooyoung #unprofessional attraction #seonghwa #jongho #mingi #san

[hiddenlife-manager]

i dont know if you do driver x driver x reader, if you do then maybe oscar x logan x reader? if you dont then just logan x reader is good. i dont really have a good idea for smut but if youre up for it there could be some oral sex, choking, possessiveness, and degradation? ima gonna be honest its been a hot minute since ive read your smut so id theres something in my request youre not comfortable with, my apologies!

Logan Sargeant X Reader X Oscar Piastri

cw... anal, double penetration, not edited, cumshot, kissing with cum, hair pulling, slight dom, slight hinting to the two of them being into each other, gagging, blow job, oral, jealousy, timeskip, plot and porn, etc...

notepad... HIYA! Second post of the day. Honestly speaking I enjoyed this. But i probably could have spent more time on it. Either way I had fun.

There were only a few things Logan Sargeant had that Oscar Piastri didn’t. He hated to admit it, but it was true that Oscar was the better rookie and the better driver. He had things that Logan didn't, but he had one thing—the only thing Oscar couldn’t have and wanted more than anything. He had you. You were his trophy, the girl the two of them fought for in the Perma days. There was no hate between the two of them, still being the closest of friends, but Oscar could never help but be filled with jealousy each time he saw you with Logan. He was the better match for you, yet you chose Logan. 

It was the Miami Grand Prix; you were there supporting Logan after a disappointing week. Oscar certainly had a bad week, but compared to Logan, it was a hundred times better. He couldn’t help looking at you talking to Logan, walking hand in hand. He wanted what Logan had; it was selfish; you were happy; his friend was happy; he knew it was wrong. 

“Hey Oscar!” He heard Logan's voice call him out, it stunned him. He looked up, seeing him walk up with you. You waved to him, clearly unaware of his feelings.

“Oscar, you look great; how long has it been?” You asked, letting go of Logan's hand, hugging the tall man. Leaving him confused for a moment, he slowly raised his arms to hug you back. It had been sometimes since he felt your touch that all the feelings he felt became stronger than ever. 

“Likewise, are you two still together?” He asked if it was true that you were never in the media and were also never posted about. You nodded. Logan grabbed her hand and pulled her away. 

“Stronger than ever. Oscar, do you want to join us for dinner at my place? Like before, this time at my own home.” Logan asked him rather quickly. Oscar was unsure of how to respond. After spending an entire night with you and Logann being in love, It sounded like hell, yet he missed you, the sound of your laughs, or the way you talked. It was a tough decision; it felt like hours passed while the two waited for his answer. 

“Like old times.” 

“Ah~” You mumbled your head back, your legs being pushed while Logan’s mouth sucked at your clit. How did Oscar get here? Watching his friend eat out the girl he wanted. He could have left, but he stayed. Your moans sound so sweet, like honey to him. He watched Logan suck your clit almost as if he were making out with your pussy. You were clearly close to orgasming, your words becoming less coherent. He heard the low voice of Logan. 

“You’re our guest, Oscar; I know you want to.” Logan stood up, looking at him with your juices on his lips. Logan knew him too well. Oscar walked over to you and him. Logan sighed, seeing your panting face cumming just by his mouth. “You are my friend, but do know I am possessive of her. Don’t leave a mark on her Oscar, or I might not be able to forgive you for it.” 

Oscar nodded; it seemed like all that Logan told him went through one ear and out the other. Logan sighed, climbing on the bed right behind you, hauling your panting body up. He used his chest to support your back, putting you right at the edge of the bed for Oscar. His other hands spread your legs wide. 

“You want me to?” Logan rolled his eyes, taking one hand away from you and tossing a condom for Oscar to catch. He hated it because he was acting so inexperienced in front of you. He held the condom, opening it while pulling his cock out and putting the protection on properly. 

“Pick a hole, ass or pussy?” 

“I know you, Logan; you pick.” Logan smiled upon hearing Oscar say such a thing. He was caressing your cheek, flipping you over, and having you on all four. 

“I say surprise her. You dreamed of this, so do what you want for once.” Oscar knew Logan's kind heart was nothing but excited to have control over him. Logan pulled out his cock, pumping it a few times. "Besides, I have her mouth.” He shoved his cock into your mouth suddenly. Oscar began to hear the lewd sounds of your muffled gags. He groaned while doing it. He shoved his cock up your ass. It was so tight, and you were so unprepared. “You picked her ass. I’ve been training her, so she’ll be fine.” 

Logan gently placed his hands on your head, playing with your hair; cooing at you. Oscar could tell he truly cared for you. No matter what, even face-fucking you, he had a hint of gentleness. Oscar held onto your hips, bouncing you back and forth on his cock. Causing moans to be heard that were muffled by Logan's cock in your mouth. Logan thrust deep into your mouth, gagging echo into the large room. 

“Can I grab her hair?” Logan smirked, nodding to him. Oscar's hand went to your hair, pulling it back, causing a small pop when your lips left Logan's cock. Logan used the opportunity of shock from you to shove his cock once more into your beautiful mouth. Logan and Oscar found themselves moaning, both enjoying the view of you being used. Clearly, they both enjoyed it; their relationship has been a bit rocky since Logan got with you, and this was a good way to get them to fix it. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t mind it; you were being fucked in two holes and forced into a moaning mess. You loved it even when your hands got weak. They began to shake, feeling like you were about to orgasm. You knew Logan was close, his cock twitching in your mouth and his thrust being deeper than normal, making you gag even louder than before. You weren’t sure how Oscar orgasmed and were unsure if he was close or not, yet the sounds of his whimpering from how good your ass felt told you all you needed. 

The abuse of your ass and mouth continued until Logan thrust so deep it made you gag that you had to pull away while he came. Oscar grabbed your hair tightly, your mouth open, and Logan once more shoved his cock in your mouth, making you milk him dry. You were gasping for air, trying to moan, cum flowing out of your lips, unable to hold yourself up. Oscar fucked you faster; you knew he was enjoying it, but it became overwhelming for him. 

That was until he pulled you back by your hair so tight that he sat you up and came into your ass deep, filling his condom up. Leaving you moaning loudly at the feeling of his cock getting soft slowly. You were still covered in cum. Logan leaned down to you, kissing you deeply, not caring about the cum clearly on your lips. Oscar is still deep inside you; his cock is so deep that it feels better than any woman he has been with.

“We can do this again, Oscar.” Logan and Oscar were both naked, watching your sleeping body. You went right to sleep after they helped clean you up. 

“I missed you too, Logan.” They turned to each other and shook hands, firmly embracing each other in a quick hug.

#fanfic #x reader #oneshot #formula one x reader #f1 smut #fanfcition #formula one smut #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #logan sargeant smut #logan sargent x reader #mclaren f1 #mclaren x reader #williams racing #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #oscar x Logan #Logan sargeant x Oscar Piastri

[carmenberzattosgf]

im a firm believer that carmy is best friends with your vibrator. using it on you or on him, doesnt matter. though, he will try to imitate it with his tongue (now bordering competition with the toy).

either way, he just loves making and seeing you cum <3

Bro SO sees a vibrator as competition. He’s not against them by any means, but he’s a competitive guy! He wants to know he made you cum without the help of anything else.

I mostly see him being into using vibrators for overstimulation purposes. Almost as a punishment of sorts. He’ll hold one of your vibrators to your clit and keep it there until you’re shaking, sobbing, and apologizing for whatever you did to upset him.

In another punishment type of scenario, he makes you use a vibrator in front of him until you cum “x” amount of times. He literally sits in front of you the entire time and doesn’t even move a finger to touch you or himself. He just coos and teases the hell out of you. All the while he’s so hard in his boxers.

“You can’t have me yet, baby. Gotta to make it to orgasm number four all by yourself first. You know that.”

“That feel good? Then why are you crying, sweetheart? Does it feel too good?”

“You poor thing. I can see you dripping from here. I’ll take care of you as long as you give yourself one more. Go on, turn it up a speed— that’s it. That’s my good girl.”

Once you hit the number he’s set, Carmy’s jumping up to take the vibrator away from you to turn it off. You practically collapse in his arms, legs shaking from overstimulation. His hands come up to wipe your still flowing tears away from your cheeks. “You did so good for me. I’m so proud of you, baby. Let’s be done for the night? Yeah? I don’t wanna do too much to you.”

Your finger tips clench around the hem of his shirt, knuckles turning white. “N-no! Please, Carm. Need it—need y-your cock.” You sobs start right back up again as you beg to Carmy. “P-please.”

“Shhh—calm down, sweet girl. Take a big deep breath in for me,” Carmy soothes, running his fingers through your hair. “Okay, my love, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll make it better, baby.”

Afterwards Carmy fucks you soft and slow, but despite his efforts you slip right into sub space. He will never complain about it though. The fact you feel safe enough with him to so easily go to that place makes his heart skip a beat.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy bear #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy berzatto

[love-and-deepspace-fanfic]

Rafayel Fanfic - Drunken Intimacy

This story is inspired by the 4* Rafayel card "Oceanic Nightfall," though I personally don't like how MC handles the situation, so here's a different scenario where I think things could get better.

Hope you've been enjoying my delulu so far

Imagine you just came back from a tired mission trip, and Raf has just finished throwing a party and got drunk....

Drunken Intimacy

You had just finished carefully placing your suitcase back in your bedroom after a long mission trip when you spotted a figure slumped against the sofa by the window, holding a glass of wine you had set down countless times since you saw him.

"Argh, this boozer."

You muttered under your breath. Resigned, you navigated around the remnants of a party scattered across the living room, making your way towards a collection of overflowing wine bottles. The sight of the trashed mansion after a long and tiring trip filled you with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

You'd envisioned a different homecoming with Rafayel – a walk by the lake or a visit to his favorite restaurant, as usual. But this scene was far from what you'd expected. Since arriving home, you'd been deliberately avoiding Rafayel's gaze, not wanting to betray your disappointment, even though deep down you knew he must have had his reasons.

Rafayel remained motionless on the sofa, swirling the wine in his glass. His eyes, usually sharp, held a strangely gentle glint as they met yours. An unsettling silence lingered between you, broken only by the jarring ring of a phone.

You recognized the ringtone as your own, but couldn't find it anywhere. It wasn't until you spotted it lying beside Rafayel on the sofa that you realized he must have noticed your avoidance too.

You approached Rafayel with your gaze fixed elsewhere. You quickly snatched your phone and answered the call from Thomas. Just as you were about to move away to talk, Rafayel suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling you down. Taken off guard, you fell onto Rafayel's lap, right as Thomas' voice echoed from the other end of the line.

"Is that […]? Are you home already?"

You shot Rafayel a glare, but his grip was firm, preventing you from moving. You sighed and switched on speakerphone to answer. "Yes, I just got back. Is there something wrong?"

“Oh, you're back already? The party organizers and I wanted to apologize to you! The party tonight was supposed to be held at the pre-booked hotel, but due to unforeseen circumstances, they couldn't accommodate us. That's why I had to ask Rafayel to let us use his place. He usually refuses these requests, but for some reason he agreed today, which is why the party ended up being such a success. Please don't blame him, he didn't want any of this. On another note, there was a sudden power outage, and by the time Rafayel chased everyone out, we couldn't clean up. We'll send some staff over tomorrow to tidy things up."

You cast a sidelong glance at Rafayel before replying, "It's alright, Thomas. I understand."

Relief washed over Thomas on the other end of the line. As he was just about to ask about your trip, the call abruptly cut out. A moment later, it dawned on Thomas that Rafayel must be sulking again.

You yourself were also taken by surprise. All you'd heard was Thomas' voice on speakerphone, and the call had just abruptly ended because somebody’s slender and beautiful fingers pressed on the disconnect button. Still sprawled across Rafayel's lap, you lifted your eyes to meet his, their gazes locking. His eyes, glazed over with intoxication, held an undeniable intensity as they looked back at you. His body burned with heat, his cheeks flushed a deep red all the way across his face to his ear. Despite the haziness in his eyes, his focus remained fixated on you. His hand reached out to take the one holding your phone, gently setting it aside before wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close as if to meld you into his chest. The intensity of his grip startled you. You pushed yourself up, bracing your hands against his chest to create some space, forcing him back onto the sofa before sitting above him to catch your breath. A mix of annoyance and amusement bubbled within you.

“What is it? Are you trying to convince me that all this mess wasn't intentional?"

Rafayel remained silent, his gaze unwavering as he stared at you. His scorching hand reached out to touch yours resting on his chest. He squeezed it tightly, then began to stroke it gently, sending shivers down your spine. You realized there was something different about Rafayel today. You let him keep hold of your right hand while reaching out with your left to touch his cheek.

“Tell me," you said softly, "What’s bothering you today?”

Rafayel finally spoke, but his words were nonsensical.

“Do you think a mother turtle can climb trees now?"

What? Mother turtles?

As if lost in his own thoughts, Rafayel continued rambling. "Jellyfish must be able to walk, and sharks know how to eat grass as well."

You finally realized what he was hinting at. You sighed reluctantly, "Didn't I tell you the trip would take two weeks?"

"You said two weeks, but you came back a day late without telling me!"

Rafayel said, his voice laced with a hint of sulking. You felt a pang of guilt. You had indeed been delayed a day, preoccupied with finding a souvenir for him and forgot to inform him. This was serious… he was really upset.

You sighed and gave in, "I’m sorry…"

"We haven’t done yet!" Rafayel’s voice grew more "ferocious.”

“Do you know how annoying those people were today? The ladies with their suffocating perfume, the pot-bellied old men with their sly faces, just looking at them made me lose my appetite. But more importantly..."

Rafayel suddenly stopped, his voice dropping, gloomy

"...Without you, I don't want to do anything."

Rafayel’s hand moved from holding your hand to stroking your cheek. His eyes softened but were still filled with sadness.

“To you... it's just a day... but to me it has been long enough that I've stopped counting... until I see you again..."

Ah, it’s this topic again...

Though you knew about Rafayel’s Lemurian heritage, he rarely spoke about his distant past.

Except at times like this.

Sometimes, you wondered what had happened to make Rafayel show such pain, and you had a feeling it was connected to you...

Maybe you would never be able to change or control what had happened in the past, but at least, at this moment...

Putting your thoughts aside, you leaned down, your hands gently touching Rafayel’s handsome face and then placing a kiss on his forehead. You kissed him deeply and forcefully on his forehead as if to create your own "protective" mark.

"Do you know what kissing the forehead is for?"

You leaned your elbows on his chest and gently stroked the mark you had just left,

“This is a mark only for those who need to be protected. I don't know what you've been through, but as long as I'm here, I'll be your bodyguard, protect you like how you 'hired' me before."

You looked at him and smiled mischievously, making Rafayel sink into his old distant memories.

The girl in the Lemurian outfit, radiant as the sun, smiled and declared that she would give him everything. He was her belief, and she would become his faith. She always stood on an equal footing with him, never backing down.

While reminiscing about that distant memory, Rafayel felt a gentle pat on his face. You were staring at him with scrutinizing eyes. Before Rafayel could even react, you had pressed down on him. Seeing his ears gradually turn red, you blew gently on it and teased,

"But let me warn you, my bodyguard fees aren’t cheap."

#rafayel #rafayel x mc #rafayel x reader #drunk #tender moment #love and deepspace #delulu #romantic #ocenic nightfall #lads #lads rafayel

[blowjob-horseguy]

Steve opened his eyes and above him was a pale man with long curly hair. It fell like buoyant curtains of ringlets from either side of his head, obscuring their surroundings. The man frowned down at him with a fierceness that made Steve think for a second they had met in a tavern one night and Steve had done something to slight him.

Steve opened his mouth to speak and felt a sharp edge be pushed harder onto his throat. Steve's vocal cords froze. Whatever he did, it was really bad. Steve runs through a quick memory catalogue of all the men he's slighted recently and how, so he could know what to start apologizing profusely for.

Did he sleep with his woman? Did he sleep with his man? Did he win too much money from him? Did he lose too much money to him? None of those seemed right.

He considered briefly that he perhaps slept with the man himself but quickly dismissed the idea. If he had bedded anyone with hair like that and this passionate a disposition, he would not need to search for the memory.

He looked closer at his features. Hair so long it could easily be a maidens, and so dark it was almost blue. Thick, furrowed brows and lips thin and white, pressed tight together, sandwiched by dimpled cheeks. His skin was pale enough to look sickly and almost green in hue. Steve definitely would have remembered this face had he seen it before.

"You are awake" said the man.

His voice dragged like wood over coarse sand: like he wasn't used to speaking outloud. Steve got a glimpse of his teeth, Sharp and thin, unlike any other human teeth he had ever seen.

A chill ran down Steve's spine as he realized why.

This is no man; this is a Merrow!

Steve's mother had told him tales of these creatures.

When Steve answered the call to the sea, his mother warned him; beware of the sea maidens they may seem beautiful on the shore, but when they lure you to their home you see their true colors. Green skin and scaley behinds. Teeth sharp enough to tear through flesh, and claws the same.

The men are said to be even uglier, with the faces of hogs and catfish, and they drag sailors down to their dens to enslave them for eternity.

Steve has always been cautious about these monsters; avoiding the bright red cap that was the telltale sign of a merrow on the shore. The others on the ship have always ridiculed him for it, and now here he is in one of theirs's clutches.

and it's not... unattractive. Strangely.

"Speak" The merrow demanded

"Please let me go" Steve spoke, his voice breaking embarrassingly.

"Go where" the merrows eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Back to my ship."

"You will attack me."

"No, I won't I promise. I'm a peaceful man, very peaceful. Couldn't hurt a fly, me. Wouldn't even know where to start."

The jagged thing at Steve's neck pressed into his skin a little harder, Steve tried to lift his chin as far as it could go to get away, but he felt a small sting as the device broke his skin.

"All men lie."

"I'm not lying, I would never lie" Steve lied.

While far from the swashbuckling type, he has never shied away from a fight, especially when it comes to protecting his fellow crewmates. He's only been on the ship a few years, but he has improved his fighting form considerably from the naive nobleman's son he once was.

While he's not going to say it out loud, he probably would attack the thing, if given the opportunity.

The merrow didn't respond, just bored dark pools of black into Steve's soul. Steve silently pleaded back with his own eyes, just wanting to get out of this situation alive.

"Release me, I beg of you. I will cause you no trouble."

"I do not believe you, you will leave this place and call fleets of your men here to hunt me down." The merrow said panic evident in his voice now.

Steve's own panic subsided for a moment and he realized this creature did not seek to kill him for pleasure, but to avoid being killed itself.

Steve took a chance and lifted his hand to touch the pale arm that held the merrow aloft above him in a gesture he hoped conveyed comfort. He did so slowly, as not to startle, and gently so the merrow knew he had no intention to harm. The merrow eyed him wildly and with fear, but it allowed itself to be touched.

It's skin was cool to the touch and droplets fell from its skin as Steve wrapped his hand around its wiry forearm.

Steve tried to reach for his signature charm, the one his father swears he learned from him.

"I promise, I mean you no harm. I have no fleets of men. Half my fellows are so foolish they could not hunt down their own behinds" Steve said.

The merrow stared at him, eyes shifting about, looking him up and down for any hint of deception.

"I will not hurt or attack you, please just remove this device from my neck."

The Merrow seemed to steal it's resolve for a moment. then slowly the pressure was removed from Steve's neck. and the merrow slunk into water.

Steve sat up on the rocky shore. Without the creature's hair blocking out their surroundings, Steve saw he was in some sort of watery cave. Dark grey walls surrounded him as far as he could see, and a vast black lake stretched out in front of him. If only Steve could remember how he got here.

He looked back at the creature and saw the object that had been held to his neck was a jagged, broken shell that hadn't yet been worn smooth by the ocean. The merrow still held it nervously as it bobbed in the water at Steve's feet.

Even with half of it's body submerged, the merrow was nearly eye level with Steve. So either the water is shallow here, or the creature is of substantial size.

"Does this mean I'm free to leave?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook it's head. Black curls shaking out droplets of water with the motion.

"I cannot be sure that you won't return with weapons or more men" it said, "I searched your person while you were asleep, I took the dagger that hung around your middle, and the one on your leg."

How long had Steve been unconscious?

"Did you steal me away from my ship?" he had to ask.

The merrow looked offended at the suggestion.

"Steal you away? You intruded onto my home!" it said as it started rising out of the water. A jet black tail emerging slightly from the grey ocean.

Steve shrunk down and put his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I have no memory of arriving here."

The merrow was taken aback at that and shrunk down into the water again.

"You don't remember?" it asked

Steve shook his head.

"You washed up onto my shore. No man has ever seen my shore before. Your treasures wash up here when your ships crash in the sea outside, but no man has ever washed up with them before." it said, clearly at unease with the idea.

Steves heart fell. Does this mean his ship crashed? Is he the lone survivor? he doesn't think he can take the thought of being left without the friends he's made on that vessel.

"Did- did anything else wash up with me?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook its head.

"There hasn't been a wreck near here in months."

Steve felt his spirit lift. That could mean his crew mates are alive and well!

But then how did he end up here? Steve tries to remember. His head aches something fierce.

"Why does your face look like that?" The merrow asked.

Rude.

"My head hurts"

The creature cocked its head to one side.

"You creatures are strange and delicate. Have you hurt yourself?"

"Hurt myself? I only just woke up! It's more likely you hurt me, than I hurt myself!"

Steve clutched his head in one hand and gestured at the creature with the other. He feels rather helpless in this situation.

"I did not hurt you! I removed you from the water. You creatures are not supposed to be in there!" The thing pointed towards Steve with its shell, as if illustrating what 'creatures' it was talking about.

"Well then, however I got to be there is how I hurt my head" Steve explained, aggravated by this easily excitable monster he's found himself with.

The creature frowned at him for a moment and then faster than anything it dove under the water. It's tail following behind it in a lithe arc like a sea serpent.

Perhaps it is a sea serpent. A strange shrill sea serpent with very soft skin.

Almost as fast as it left, the thing burst back out of the water.

Steve flinched away from the splash.

"Hold out your hand" the merrow demanded.

Steve held both his hands closer to his body.

"Why?"

The merrow lunged forward and grabbed one of Steve's hands.

Steve yelled, startled, his feet scrambled at the stones beneath him trying to get away from the shockingly strong and clamy hand that held his arm tight, but his leather soles slipped on the wet rock and Steve stayed put.

And then something slimy and oddly coarse fell into his palm.

The merrow shoved Steve's own hand towards his face.

It was seaweed.

"Wh-"

"Eat it."

Steve's eyes shot up to meet the merrow's.

"Raw?!"

"It helps me when my head hurts. It will help you."

Steve grimaced at the yellowish-brown pile in his hand.

"Is it medicinal in some way?"

"It is food."

"Ah."

The merrow starred at him expectingly.

Steve starred right back.

"I'm not going to eat this."

"Then your head will continue to ache."

"I don't think the lack of edible gunk is the cause of my headache, I believe it to be the same thing that's causing my amnesia" Steve said shaking the offending object out of his hand, "I must have hit my head when I was washing up on your shore."

"Like I said; you are strange delicate creatures," the merrow reached out his unoccupied hand towards Steve, "come into the water."

Steve leaned as far away as he could manage.

"So you can drown me?"

The Merrow rolled his eyes. It looked remarkably human in that instance.

"So I can heal you"

He doesn't know if it's delirium or blood loss, but Steve grabbed the pale hand in front of him and slid gently into the water.

The creature wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer to it. Steve felt the scales of it's tale press against his thighs through his trousers as he was held aloft in the freezing water. His feet dangled and he couldn't feel a bottom to the lake, nor to the creatures tail.

The merrow threw the shell that was in it's other hand away somewhere and grabbed a handful of the black water. It brought it's hands up, dripping the water onto Steves head. The cold shock seemed to ease his pain. Steve closed his eyes at the relief.

He felt an even pressure on the top of his head. A tingling sensation washed over him, trickling from the point of pressure down his neck and over his shoulders. It sent Steve's body shivering.

He opened his eyes and was met by two dark eyes staring back at him. The merrow was less than an inch from his face. one of it's hands was firmly planted between his shoulder blades, and the other was atop his head emitting the magical sensation.

"You had a bump on your head."

"Had?"

"I rid you of it."

Steve felt the hand trail down from the top of his head through his hair- still wet from whatever circumstances lead him here- and down his shoulder.

He does not understand why a monster would heal him of a headache, but as he is held steady in its strong arms and feels it's breath against his lips he doesn't think it wise to ask too many questions.

"Thank you." He said.

The merrow let go of him, and Steve pulled himself back up onto the shore.

He heard a wet thunk beside him and turned to see the merrow had joined him on the rock. Its body was facing Steve and it's tail was splayed out in front of it bent at the midpoint as if the thing had knees.

It's tail alone was twice the length of Steve's entire body and it tapered along its length until exploding out into 2 wide tail fins that had the jagged edges of burned parchment.

Suddenly the creature unbent it's tail, laying it across Steve's body and curling the end slightly around his waist. it was surprisingly heavy and the large scales had the texture of smooth river stones against his abdomen.

Steve looked bewildered at the creatures face, who had the same fierce and angry look as when Steve first woke up.

"So you will not run away." it explained.

"how many times do I have to tell you, I will bring no harm to you, even if I escape."

"I cannot take that chance."

"How long will you keep me here then?"

The tail wrapped halfway around Steve's waist constricted slightly, almost causing him lose his balance. The creature beside him leaned in menacingly.

"You will stay here until I can be sure you can be trusted." it said.

"And when will that be, hmm? What could possibly convince you?" Steve asked.

The creature looked down at itself for a moment, seemingly thinking of a solution.

"I- I don't know. I will. I will know it when I know it."

"Oh! You will know it when you know it. Thats fantastic." Steve spat.

"Well you have done nothing to prove your trustworthiness to me thus far" The creature spat back.

"Exactly! I have done nothing! I have not attacked you, I have not tried to escape, I have made no attempts on your life. I have been a model captive! Whereas you, foul creature that you are, have threatened my life, stolen my belongings, and tried to feed me muck from the bottom of the ocean!" Steve had snapped, pushed to far by this infernal creature and it's damp dank lair "And now I find you have no plan for my release. You know, my mother used to tell me tales about you creatures, but she neglected to mention just how stupid you are!"

The creature just looked at him, dumbstruck by his outburst.

It uncurled it's tale from around Steve's waist and moved it back into the water. It slid it's body so it was sitting beside Steve, instead of facing him.

"What is your name?" the merrow asked.

"What?" Steve replied

"What is your name?"

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"No. You say you have been a model captive; I wish to be a model captor. What is your name?" it looked at him with pleading eyes.

Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. What has his life come to?

"Steve, my name is Steve." He said.

"And you do not eat seaweed, Steve."

"I-" Steve groaned, "I eat seaweed, of course I do, I live on a ship. I just don't eat it raw and fresh from the bottom of a pit is all."

"So how do you eat it." The creature asked.

"You let it dry and cure, you boil it over a flame. Do you know what flame is?" Steve asked.

The creature rolled its eyes again.

"Yes, I know what flame is. If I build you one will you eat?"

Steve was taken aback. The monster is worried about him eating?

"I- yes, I suppose" Steve stammered, "do you also have a pot to boil water in?"

"A bucket washed up last month, will that do?"

"Why yes that will do greatly" Steve said.

The creature quickly disappeared into the water.

Steve sat back on his hands; confused and... oddly touched by the gesture.

Despite the creature's constant suspicion, Steve hadn't even considered just swimming out of here. Mainly due to the fact that he has no idea where he is, if there is land near here, where his ship is, or even how to find the opening to this cave in such dark conditions.

He is tired and befuddled, his wet clothing is sticking to his skin uncomfortably, he is chilled by the air and sore from the hard rock, and now that he thinks about it, he is near starving. So, he truly does appreciate the Merrow's offer to build him a fire.

The merrow reappeared holding a rusty bucket aloft the water's surface. It handed the bucket to Steve, who found dry wood, flint, and a knife at the bottom of it.

Steve smiled.

"Where did you find all this stuff?" he asked

"Treasures wash up here after shipwrecks, I told you that before," The merrow said pulling itself back onto the rock, "now would you like to build the fire yourself, or shall I?"

.....

Steve started the fire, closer to the cave wall than to the edge of the water, and set the bucket, now full of water, carefully in the middle of the flames. It will take awhile before the water boils, but that just gives Steve time to lay his clothes out to dry.

He rid himself of his trousers first, the wet denim was the greatest offender to his skin, and his white linen shirt came after it. He laid them both flat in front of the fire.

He looked around, the creature was still gathering food. He's grateful, he feels oddly modest about being in the nude in front of the merrow.

Steve was crouched down warming his hands in front of the flames when he heard a telltale splash from behind him. He covered himself with his hands and whipped around to see the merrow had returned with 2 handfuls of seaweed and a small fish caught in its mouth.

It looked Steve up and down from its place in the water and then released the fish from its jaws onto the rock.

"Your clothes are gone," it pointed out.

Steve gestured with his chin to where they lay in front of the fire.

"I'm drying them."

"Ah," it said lifting itself by the elbows up onto the shore, "come take this stuff from me, I can't get over to you, it's difficult to move across land in this form."

Steve walked over to the merrow and grabbed the fish and seaweed from it.

"You say in this form; do you have another?" he asked

The merrow eyed him oddly.

"I thought your mother told you of us?" it asked.

"Well, yes, but she also told me the men of your species have the faces of hogs. As you clearly do not look like a hog, I figured she may have gotten some things wrong."

The edges of the merrows mouth twitched upward. It- it's smiling!

"I have a legged form as well. I could get my cap and join you for dinner?" It said.

So, she was right about the caps too. At least Steve hasn't been paranoid about nothing.

"Thats not necessary." Steve said, though he must admit he was curious.

Steve walked back to the fire and dumped the fish and seaweed into the water that had started to form small bubbles. They still had a while to go.

Steve turned back to the merrow, who was sitting on the rock, splayed out, scales and all, like some kind of ancient stone carving. It looked up at Steve, waiting for him to say something. Steve felt the need to cover himself again, the gaze of this creature is just so insistent, but he thought the act would just draw more attention to the area. Instead, he decided to ask something that had been nagging at him.

"Do you have a name?"

The merrow was taken aback for a moment before it answered.

"I was called Edward once."

"Once?"

"I was banished by my people to this cave, I haven't been called anything since then." it said, eyes going sad for a moment before snapping out of it.

"Edward the Banished" Steve mumbled.

"I suppose," Edward said squirming uncomfortably.

Steve hadn't expected him to hear that.

"I left my home to follow a friend onto a pirate ship that I quickly found was made up of novices who had never seen the inside of a ship before."

Edward raised his eyebrows at that.

"I see. 'can't hunt down their own behinds' indeed."

Steve breathed out a small laugh.

"I wasn't lying."

"Hmm..." the creature's mouth flattened into a thin line once more.

It doesn't believe him, not entirely.

No matter! Steve is just glad that it calmed down enough to allow him food and freedom of movement.

When the food was finished cooking Steve brought the bucket over to where Edward was sitting, or laying... where Edward was beached.

It frowned at him.

"You are sharing with me?"

"You caught it for me," Steve said taking a bit of meat from the fish.

It was saltier than he prefers it, but at least it was food. Which reminds him.

"Did I still have my water when I arrived here?" he asks.

"The bladder you had around your belt?"

Steve nodded.

"Yes, I took it along with your knives, I thought it had potential as a weapon," The merrow said, gnawing on seaweed.

"How long was I unconscious?"

The merrow frowned at his food.

"I'm not sure. The sun was just starting to set when I found you by the mouth of the cave, and it was fully dark when you awoke."

That means it could be as little as 5- 10 minutes.

"Do you need me to bring you your water?" Edward asked still gnawing.

"I would like that yes, but where is it that you go to fetch these things."

Edward looked him in the eye, squinting to see any hint of devious intentions on his face. Steve is getting tired of the scrutiny.

"I'm not going to tell you where your knives are, but I will bring you your water." the creature said slithering away into the depths once again.

Steve sat there, bare as the day he was born, and wondered what it would take to get this thing to trust him enough to let him go.

When the merrow came back with his bladder of water Steve tried not to drink it all in one gulp. It was so refreshing, and he was so thirsty, but he doesn't know how long he will have to be here, so he needs to ration.

"I have decided how you will earn my trust." Edward said out of the blue.

Steve nearly spilt his drink in his excitement. He put his water down and wiped his chin.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You will tell me more about your ship, and I will go out in search of it to see if the stories you tell are true." it said tapping its tale against the stone it sat on in no particular rhythm. it looked nervous about this plan.

"You'll find my ship?" Steve asked, amazed at his own luck.

"You will come with me so I know where you are, and I'm not giving you back your weapons, and I will keep tight hold of you, and if I find your ship and it is not the novices you said it was, I will leave you stranded on a sand bar," it said sternly.

"Okay! what do you want to know first?" Steve asked leaning forward, excited to get the process started.

"Tomorrow, you will tell me about your ship tomorrow. Now it is time to sleep" it said and then swam away.

It is a strange and confusing creature.

Still, Steve curled up on his clothes in front of the fire and eagerly laid down his head to rest. He at last sees hope of escape, and he can't wait until tomorrow.

#steddie #merman!eddie #pirate!steve #mermay 2024 #steddie fic #i know im playing fast and loose with the mythology #but in my defense the mythology is pretty sparse #I started writing this in april and it was supposed to be mabey a couple hundred words #now it's over 3000 #steve harrington #eddie munson #really getting this in at the nick of time

[cyberseong]

flawless.

pairing: hongjoong x f!reader.

genre: smau, office setting, coworkers. warnings/topics: there's quite a bit of plot before it gets to the actual smut, hongjoong is cocky, teasing, blowjobs, facefucking, aftercare (though not very descriptive), slight fluff at the end, no actual sex, just oral. word count: 1.4k

a/n: it took me so long to finish this but here’s my second tumblr fic— again, it isn’t proofread so i apologize for any errors. reblogs and likes are appreciated, enjoy <3

being coworkers with hongjoong was usually a miserable experience; he walked around as if he owned the place, his tone always condescending— y/n was especially a victim of this. he was constantly coercing y/n into making his presentations for him or filling out paperwork that he had due the next day. hongjoong held no leadership position above y/n, so he could easily get reprimanded for what he was doing; but hongjoong knew how soft-spoken and obedient y/n was. he found it amusing seeing her stress over overwhelming situations that he was the cause of.

y/n was incredibly awkward, and it was a trait of hers that you would typically notice right away. she wore black bayonetta glasses, which perfectly complimented her almond-shaped eyes. y/n was well known in their company building because of how beautiful she was, but anyone who worked by her knew she was just a nerd. hongjoong would be lying if he said that wasn’t his type.

y/n left a soft knock on hongjoong’s office door. she had just spent the last 2 hours signing off on documents and contracts for the company’s business partners and customers; another task that was supposed to be hongjoong’s responsibility.

“door’s open~” hongjoong teased mockingly, knowing that y/n was the one on the other side of the wall. they were supposed to clock out 2 hours ago; before y/n was given the extra assignment. the clicks of her heels could be heard as she approached hongjoong’s desk, setting the papers down before averting her attention to hongjoong himself.

y/n’s words were lodged in her throat upon taking in hongjoong’s current appearance. his hair was just the perfect amount of messy, his tie was loosened, and his collared shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a glimpse of his defined chest. his slacks were tight against his thighs, leaving the size of them to no one’s imagination. y/n swallowed thickly, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks as she viewed the sight. she eventually looked up to meet his eyes, where hongjoong maintained a strong and assertive contact between them. y/n quickly shied away, deciding to speak up instead of letting the current tension in the air become any thicker.

“can i help you with anything else? you look… exhausted,” she innocently batted her eyelashes, causing hongjoong to look at her confused. she was obviously suggesting something, which threw hongjoong off— he could not recall any other times when y/n had spoken to him with underlying meaning dripping from her words like this. nevertheless, he proceeded to play a long.

“well, i had a few important meetings to attend today, my whole body is tense,” hongjoong sighed, throwing his head back in his chair with an annoyed groan. y/n could see how beautifully structured his throat was, with many protruding veins traveling up to his jawline.

“let me help you hongjoong; i don’t have anything planned for tonight anyway,” y/n offered, walking around hongjoong’s desk and getting behind him. she gently placed her hands on the crooks of his neck and began to massage them, the action immediately beginning to soothe him of the uncomfortable pain that resided there previously. hongjoong practically melted into her touch as a sense of relief washed over him.

despite the feeling of comfort that enveloped the two, the excruciating tension that had only increased between them was becoming unbearable. hongjoong knew y/n was teasing him once her hands had dissipated from his shoulders and traveled a little too close to his defined pecs.

hongjoong breathed in sharply when he felt her hand squeeze the left side of his chest softly; he couldn’t tolerate it anymore. he swiftly stood up from his seat, grabbed y/n’s face with his hands, and brought their lips together in desperation. her hands rested upon his shoulder blades, the grip getting more intense as their shared kiss deepened. only the noise of shortened breaths and saliva could be heard throughout the room as their tongues fought for dominance between the two mouths.

the kiss came to a stop as hongjoong’s mouth made its way down y/ns body, leaving soft pecks from the corners of her mouth to her jawline. he paused to suck on a specific part of her collarbone once he noticed her breath hitch— she moaned at the feeling, running her fingers through his hair as he continued.

when hongjoong stopped to catch a breath, y/n took it upon herself to drop to her knees and begin unzipping hongjoong’s pants. as he looked down in her direction with surprise, he got a clear view of her cleavage peaking out from the top of her shirt. they looked perfectly plump and round; he just couldn’t get the image of them out of his mind no matter how hard he tried.

he decided to keep quiet and observe for the time being. y/n pulled his pants down slightly, giving her access to the print of his dick being hidden by his boxers— she palmed him gently, causing hongjoong to let out a strangled moan. he was painfully hard, and it only felt like she was teasing him.

“god, stop fucking around already y/n,” hongjoong groaned out, a frustrated expression plaguing his face. y/n abided by his words as she pushes his boxers down, setting his throbbing cock free from his clothing. precum was beginning to drip down the side of his tip, so y/n leaned in to circle her tongue around it, lapping up the substance into her mouth.

she gave hongjoong’s tip a few kitten licks while looking up to meet his eyes; he gave her a deathly glare, so she took that as a warning and finally took his cock into her mouth whole. the warmth of her mouth around his dick made hongjoong shudder, causing him to buck his hips accidentally. y/n gagged at the feeling of his cock filling her throat up so suddenly, but she recovered quickly, continuing to bob her head and pleasure hongjoong.

“f-fuck, i can’t, please,” hongjoong breathily moaned, grabbing onto y/n’s hair and thrusting deeply into her mouth. hongjoong noticed that her gag reflex was no longer being triggered, so he had no mercy left on her throat. each time he felt y/n swallow against his cock, he would let out the most pornographic moans y/n had ever heard from a man. she found it humorous, really— it was such a large contrast from his cocky facade he wore all the time.

“i’m close, y/n, please— don’t stop,” hongjoong ranted as y/n cupped his balls, causing his legs to wobble slightly from the overwhelming surge of pleasure pulsating through his body at that very moment.

he continued fucking y/n’s mouth, quivering each time he heard the wet sounds her mouth made with each thrust. she swallowed one last time on his cock before he reached his climax, the hot white liquid spilling down her throat before he pulled out of her mouth. her mouth separated from his dick with a ‘pop’, with y/n then proceeding to lick the excess cum off of her lips with her tongue. her throat was the sorest it’d ever been, she never would’ve expected hongjoong to be as thick as he was.

at least she was aware now.

after hongjoong came down from his peak, he pulled his pants back up and got himself together. he made his way over to the bathroom attached to his office, retrieving a cloth and dampening it before returning to y/n. he kneeled in front of her, noticing how fucked out the expression on her face was.

“hey, look at me y/n,” hongjoong spoke softly, wiping off the sweat from her forehead and the saliva from her lips. he then threw the cloth off to the side, lifted her off the floor, and sat her in his office chair. “your knees must hurt… next time you can sit on the sofa instead, hm?” a smirk formed on his lips as he finished the sentence. y/n gave him a sarcastic glare— she wouldn’t admit it at this very moment, but even hongjoong knew this would happen again.

they talked about light topics before checking the time— the clock read 11:09 PM, meaning that even the security guards had gone home by now. the building doors were known to lock automatically at 11, so the two of them had no choice but to sleep in hongjoong’s office for the night. they cuddled up closely on the small sofa against the wall— it’d be a lie to say that they immediately went to sleep, but they knew one thing for sure; the tension that had always been between them would be gone from that night on.

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #atz x reader #ateez #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #atz smut #atz

[gracev0609]

Get Your Blood Pumping

Josh Kiszka X Reader

I apologize, I'm not sure who to credit for the gif, it's been in my gvf folder for forever! But thank you for your service! EDIT: @joshsindigostreak informed me that the gif is by @readyforthegarden , so thank you!!

WC: 3k+

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, Explicit Sex, Rough Sex, BEEFY GYM JOSH

A @lipstickitty / gracev0609 collaboration.

Fic based on this request!

When Josh wasn’t on tour, the weekends were your favorite time of the week. This was mainly because in most instances, that was when the two of you had the most free time to spend together. Saturdays were usually more of an errand day, getting any running done that you hadn’t had the time for throughout the week, Target trips, coffee dates, hanging out with friends and family. Sundays were almost always reserved for the two of you- eating breakfast together, spending as long in bed as you wanted, just being with each other and recharging after the busy week.

You would usually wake up on a Sunday morning to the sun gently shining through your windows and Josh’s gentle touch easing you awake. Here lately, however, he’d been hitting the gym most mornings before the sun even rose. Sometimes you’d still be tucked away in bed fast asleep and he’d gently pull you from your slumber with coffee and breakfast after showering off the sweat from the gym, other times you’d already be awake doing some cleaning around the house or cooking breakfast for the both of you- the latter being your favorite by far.

There was no other sight quite like Josh walking into your shared home after leaving the gym, glistening with sweat, curls all in disarray from being shoved back off of his forehead. He would always shed his shirt on the drive home, hating the way the damp fabric would stick to his skin and the leather of the seats. He had a few different pairs of shorts he liked to work out in, being rather particular about the way clothes fit and moved with his body when he was active like that. Your favorite pair by far being the shortest, skimpiest ones- and the ones he wore least often. You swore it was simply to torture you, he knew how much you loved that pair of shorts on him, so he would pick and choose what days he wore them to really get you going.

Today seemed to be the day. You had awoken naturally, early in the morning and you had already brewed a pot of coffee in anticipation of his arrival. You heard his keys jingle in the door lock, and he made his way through the threshold. His light grey t shirt in his hand with numerous dark sweat spots hanging limp between his fingers. His tiny shorts hung low on his hips, the bottom hem landing only a few inches underneath his goods. Your eyes studied his form, his newly sculpted obliques framed his, thankfully, still soft stomach. Following the planes of his body you observed his pectoral muscles, now round and full. Dancing across his collarbone your sight followed his arms down to his recently sculpted biceps. Once again your eyes bounced down to his teeny tiny shorts, and more so you looked at his bulging protrusion between his legs.

“See something you like sweetheart?”

You blushed bringing your coffee mug up to your lips,masking your smirk.

“What? You're blushing like a school girl,” he makes his way over to you, caging you in his arms. Watching his muscles ripple, you reluctantly met his eyes. He leaned in and his scent infiltrated your nose. You smelled the stale cologne he applied hours ago and the unmistakable musk he acquired from his workout.

“Impressed baby?”

Raising your hand your fingers delicately traced his chest, feeling the muscles flex under your touch.

“You've gotten so…. Solid recently. Tell me Joshy, what have you been doing at the gym?”

He brushed his nose over your cheek, voice coming out low and smooth as silk, “I start with a warmup…” one of his hands moved to your throat, not squeezing, just trailing his fingers over the delicate skin. “When I wanna work out my chest, a bench press is my go to…” his breath warmed the skin of your jaw and you felt the rumble of his chest against yours as he spoke. His hand skimmed down your neck, following the trail of your collarbone to your shoulder and back again before just barely brushing against the tops of your breasts over the thin material of your worn sleep shirt. You could feel your slick threatening to drip down your thighs already and he’d barely even touched you.

“Bicep curls, and overhead bar extensions for the triceps.” His fingers started at your wrist and ran their way up the length of your arm, tracing over the muscles he named. “Lat pulldowns work your back…” both his hands traveled to the small of your back, thumbs stroking over your heated skin. “Squats, and hip thrusts…” he trailed down to grab a handful of your ass, squeezing and pulling your body impossibly further into his making you gasp. “Be patient baby, I’ll show you how much I can hip thrust.”

The smirk never left his face, clearly enjoying how easily he could get you all worked up.

He knelt down before you, thumbs stroking over both of your hips before he started peppering kisses there, slowly feeling his way down every inch of your bare thighs. His lips left a searing trail of kisses everywhere that his hands touched, every touch building the burning need inside of you. “On leg days I do lunges and calf raises.” His touch had migrated to the tops of your calves, leaving a few love bites down your thighs as he went. “There’s more, of course, but I’d hate to bore you.” He teased, hands locking around your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. You giggled and squealed the whole way there, begging him not to drop you.

He tosses you onto the bed like you weighed nothing, making you squeal again. In an instant he was on top of you, blanketing his body over yours. His bare chest rubbing against yours makes your nipples ache under his brief touch.

Hot wet kisses from his lips make you moan out his name.

“What, baby?”

“I need you.”

He chuffs a laugh, his cocky smirk still plastered on his lips,” I know you do.”

You huff lifting your hips off of the bed to meet his. Gasping when you rub your sensitive core against his hardness straining in his tiny shorts.

“ ‘M so wet. Need you.”

He grinds his hips down, pushing himself to press against where you're aching.

“Yeah? Does my pretty baby wanna make a mess? Grind her beautiful cunt against me until my shorts are wet?”

You smile, teeth showing,” I think that's what you want Josh.”

“Is that so bad?”

Quickly he rolls off of you, scooting his body up the bed so he can lean in the mass of pillows. He grips his length through the tight fabric of his shorts, squeezing himself for some relief.

“Take your panties off baby. I know they're soaked and uncomfortable.”

Hooking your fingers in the cotton underwear you pull them from your hips, wincing lightly when the material sticks to you between your legs. Slowly you crawl up the bed, straddling his hips. You watch as he adjusts himself in his shorts, laying his cock straight up letting his tip peek out of the waistband. Whispering he croons,” Come on baby, grind that pretty wet pussy on me.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief once your hot aching core makes contact with his covered cock. Tentatively you rock your hips, pressing your swollen clit against his length.

Josh keeps his voice low as he pushes your bed head back, tucking the stray hairs behind your ears,” There's my good girl… I want you to grind on me until you cum okay sweetheart?”

You hum in agreement, rocking your hips against him, already losing yourself in the pleasure. Your fingers dig into his bare shoulders, your toes curling as you hump against him. Feeling him twitch as your wetness soaks his thin shorts. Josh's hands find your hips as they begin to stutter, pushing and pulling you. Suddenly the band in your tummy snaps and pleasure floods your body. Crying out as you shamelessly buck your hips against his swollen length. As you start to still he pulls your hips closer to his, pressing you completely flush against his length.

“Good girl, that's my good girl. Now get up, Daddy wants to see your mess.”

Your limbs felt weak as you clambered off of his lap settling down on the bed beside him.

His breath shudders as he spies the large wet spot sitting over his length. Hooking his fingers into his waistband he pulls his shorts off. What he does next shocks you, a flood of slick threatening to drip down onto the bed sheets below. Instead of tossing them to the floor he brings them to his face, inhaling deeply as his eyes roll back. He connects his lips to the ruined fabric, and sucks your juices off of them.

After a few moments he discards them, looking at you with an unhinged, feral look in his eyes. You knew you were in for it.

“God damn it.” He groaned out and you reveled in the sight of him, a pool of his arousal accumulated where his length rested, flushed red and twitching against his abdomen. “Get the fuck up here baby.” His words came out in a low growl, gripping your hips and pulling you up the bed to straddle his chest.

You hovered over him, a bit nervous to rest all your weight on him every time despite knowing that not only can he take it, he aches for it. “Josh, I don’t want you to suffocate!” You giggled, supporting your weight with your hands planted on each side of his head. He scoffed, letting you know once again how silly he always found it that you weren’t immediately willing to smother him, and yanked you down until you felt the delicious feeling of your dripping core meeting the wet warmth of his soft tongue.

His fingers gripped your hips so tight you knew you’d have fingerprint-shaped bruises to serve as a reminder of his animalistic need to taste you. His pointed tongue drove into your entrance, greedily lapping you up, moaning into your aching heat as your taste overwhelmed his senses. You cried out, one hand propping you up, the other gripping onto his curls for leverage.

His tongue explored every inch of you, licking and sucking at your clit, pleasure surging through your entire body. “That’s it Joshy, such a good boy for me.” You whined, fingers tightening in his hair. He let out a deep growl into your cunt and you felt the sharp sting of his teeth nipping at your sensitive bundle of nerves making you yelp.

“Fuck Josh!”, you raised your hips from his face, sitting back onto his chest. Eyeing him he had a lazy lust filled smile on his lips, his mouth and cheeks shining with your wetness.

His voice raspy with arousal,” Wanna fuck you now. Can I baby?”

Gently you pat his messy cheek,” Of course you can lover boy.”

Once again he uses his newfound strength to flip you on your back, settling between your legs,” I'm gonna let you adjust to me, and then I'm not gonna go slow. I've been aching to fuck you for days. We've been so fucking busy.”

You giggle knowing it was all his own doing, spreading your legs wider enticing him to enter you.

His breath catches in his throat as he grasps his painfully hard cock, swiping it through your entrance.

“So pretty and pink, just for me.”

Canting his hips forward he gently plunges into you, letting your body slowly stretch to accommodate him.

He leans his head down to your chest, letting you relax around him. He squeezes his eyes closed as if the sensation of your pussy around his cock is simply too much for him to bear. Running your hands across his toned shoulders you try to ground him, easing him back to you. You feel his lungs expand and take in a deep breath as he lifts his head,” You ready for it baby?”

You smirk,”Go ahead Joshy. Wreck me.”

You watch his jaw clench as he powerfully thrusts his hips forward, already tapping against your most sensitive spots making you gasp.

“Be careful what you wish for honey.”

After a few deep thrusts, his hips harshly colliding with yours, he grasps your right leg hitching it up over his shoulder. His hands desperately grab at your stomach and your ass, gripping on for leverage as he goes impossibly deeper, pushes impossibly harder into you. In and out he pounds, your eyes rolling every time his swollen tip hits your cervix. The pain and pleasure make a delicious combination. Fluttering your eyes open you first meet the sinful image of his chest, beads of sweat rolling between the valley of his breasts. Following the shimmering trails upwards you're met with his flushed face, cheeks red and lips pink and pouty. His brows are deeply furrowed. He almost looks in pain, but you know better. A small sparkle drips down the side of his head, trailing down in front of his ear, down his cheek to drip off his chin splattering on your stomach.

The sight of him sends you spiraling, the need to have another orgasm already swirling deep in your stomach, you mumble your tongue feeling heavy as if you're drunk on him,” Josh… ‘m gonna cum.”

He curtly nods his head as if words are too much for him now, and he grips your body even tighter pulling you in to meet his punishing thrusts. It doesn't take much longer until your walls are fluttering around him and your back arches off of the mattress. A long wailing moan pairs with the gush of slick around his cock as you come undone for him.

As soon as your body stilled Josh was pulling out and manhandling you once again, maneuvering you onto all fours. You gripped onto the sheets, arching your back for him. Josh buried himself inside your walls fully in one brutal thrust, a strangled moan tearing from your chest.

He brought one arm around the front of your waist and tangled the other hand in your hair, pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. The strong arm around your waist locked you in place as Josh resumed his harsh pace, bruising thrusts hitting every spot inside of you perfectly. The sounds of Josh’s hips smacking against your ass filled the air mixed with the sinful sound of his cock driving in and out of you relentlessly.

The force of his tip nudging your cervix rendered you speechless, no sounds escaping from your lips other than your ragged breathing and strained gasps. Josh, however, couldn’t keep quiet, a constant chorus of moans, groans, whimpers and cries flowing freely from his lips.

“So fucking good, baby.”

“Shit, your pussy’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.”

“You just love having my cock this deep, don’t you sweetheart? Filling up your pretty cunt so good you can’t even speak?”

You tried to respond, but with the way Josh was pounding into you, you couldn’t manage anything more than a breathy, barely audible chant of ‘yes’ as your walls constricted around his pulsing cock once more. You couldn’t find the words to let him know you were close but your body gave you away, Josh instantly knowing you were right on the edge. “That’s my girl, cum for me.” He choked out through clenched teeth, hips stuttering briefly as you vaguely registered the sensation of him twitching inside you but keeping their pace as he fucked you through your intense high. “That’s it, soak my cock. Just like that.” He growled as he felt you gush all over him again.

His hips stilled while you recovered, letting you float back down to earth before he pulled out of you again making you whimper at the empty feeling. “Get on top of me sweetie, don’t wanna cum just yet. Wanna feel you a little longer.” He cooed, helping you climb onto him taking in your bright red cheeks and fucked-out expression with pride.

Slowly you rocked your hips with what little strength you had left. Josh has utterly and thoroughly expended all of your energy.

“Hmm is my pretty girl tired?”

Nodding your head you agreed as you tried to rock your hips with more gusto.

“That just won't do sweetie, you want me to cum don't you?” He grabs a hold of your hips helping you bounce,” Hold on to me baby, gonna fuck you good.”

Before you can really register what's happening, his hips push up off the bed into a sort of bridge pose. Wildly he thrusts in and out of you, sopping wet slapping sounds fill your bedroom as he pounds into you from below. He lifts your hips up and down, meeting his thrusts pushing himself ever deeper inside of you. Your brain is thoughtless. Pleasure is the only thing you feel.

“Getting close.” He whines.

His legs shake as he slams into you for the final time, holding your hips in place as his cock swells and bursts, flooding your insides with his release.

As he settles you both back down onto the mattress he listlessly mutters,” Fuck” under his breath. You can feel his entire body trembling, the same as yours. Limply you slump over, one locked arm bracing you from landing on his chest. You're panting and sweating and your legs burn like you went to the gym.

Josh gathers your ratty hair into a makeshift bun at the base of your neck with his fist, an attempt to cool you off.

His other hand comes up, lovingly stroking your cheek,”You okay, love bug?”

Mustering up a smile you mumble,”Mmhmm, jus’ tired. That was a lot.”

Worry flashes across his face,” Too much?”

Leaning down, you nuzzle your face into the damp skin of his neck,” No, never.”

After a few beats of silence you're suddenly aware of how sweaty and slick you two are. Sitting back up in his lap, you grit your teeth as he twitches inside of you, he lets out a small whimper from the back of his throat,” Sorry… Sensitive.”

Gingerly you rise from his lap, careful not to disturb his abused flesh, and you lay down beside him.

Sighing, you say,” I'm sleepy now.”

He giggles, his fingers intertwining with yours,” You have two options. We can shower and nap. Or, we can shower and go get breakfast and coffee. Your pick.”

Bringing your hand up to your face, your index finger taps your chin pretending to be deep in thought, “ I'm thinking a nap.”

You watch as Josh's face visibly falls, clearly looking forward to breakfast.

You giggle, grasping his face between your hands,” Baby I'm joking! Let's go get breakfast.”

His eyes light up,” Crepes?”

“Sounds perfect Joshy.”

You rise from the bed making your way to your bathroom, eager to wash the mess from your bodies.

You start the water, waiting for it to heat up, Josh's large palms gently massage the tension in your shoulders.

“Sweetheart, can I wash your hair?” Josh places loving kisses to the nape of your neck, trailing down your spine.

Turning slightly in his grasp to face him,” Only if I can wash yours too.”

He smiles, teeth on full display, eyes scrunched,”Deal!”

#gvf #josh gvf #josh kiszka #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #greta van smut #josh kiszka smut #sam gvf #jake gvf #danny gvf

[teethflavoured]

i will be fully honest with you fellas i think if this really is times up for the lifespan of splatoon i will be moving on; and in this post i would like to detail my experience in the fandom under read more but here is a tldr;

being treated like a horrible person, a brand risk and being harassed and sent death threats, sexual harassment and gore in my inbox because i don't like how you draw splatoon characters or ship 2 legal adults in a way you dont fucking like is terrible and i've been getting the brunt of this shit for far to long.

first and foremost i appreciate all of what my friends and supporters have done for me, the fast growth of this account was something smaller vincent always dreamed of and i'm happy i've made it so far. and if you ordered something from me and i haven't sent it out, i apologize. i have a viral infection that is contagious and it will not go away.

i will keep it simple. you do not need to fish for reasons to dislike me. you do not need to ACCOUNT CRAWL MY OLD ALIASES AND OLD ABANDONED ACCOUNTS to find MILDLY suspicious things i drew as stupid 15-17 year while i was being groomed by a bunch of cum-brained pedophilic gooner losers. YOU CAN DISLIKE MY HUMOUR AND MY ART, BLOCK ME AND MOVE ON. I HAVE BEEN STALKED AND HARASSED BY GROUPS OF PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY WANT REASONS TO HATE ME.

being sexually harassed by random people because they get the wrong idea and think im appealing to people with a fucking gore fetish, i get dms detailing peoples snuff fantasies involving spyke?? or people befriend me to take out their sexual frustration on me and take my art as some sort of invite to do so?

you don't have to agree with my headcanons or who i ship! thats okay! i'm not forcing you! cutting me off and spreading rumors about me because i don't do it the 'right way' or you are JEALOUS of the attention i get on my work is BATSHIT.

i am a normal person, a severely mentally ill woman at that. it's 'support mental health' until you get into the groove of picking on someone you know aint gonna fight back.

you are all so disconnected from reality that the second you find someone who is out of the norm in your online cliques you feel they are 'inauthentic' and need to be bullied into submission or pushed out entirely. i am not apart of your 'norm' and being harassed and called a 'faker' or a 'tryhard' because i have harmless, morbid interests and it projects into my art is vile.

#teeth talks

[zaebeecee]

Helluva Boss Full Moon Episode Analysis 🌕 ✨

My very long and detailed personal analysis of the scene we were all waiting for below the cut. Spoilers, obviously, so don’t click if you don’t wanna see that. Also, this is just my own opinion, it’s cool if you don’t agree.

Also, I took all these screenshots on my phone because it’s all I have, so I apologize for the constant presence of the “hey you wanna change apps now or something” bar at the bottom of the screen.

tl;dr: Both Stolas and Blitzø are at fault here, and that’s the point of the episode.

So, I’m gonna start right after Stolas requests his book back and informs Blitzø that he needs it permanently.

Blitzø argues that he needs the book for his job. And that’s true, Moxxie already spelled that out earlier in the episode. But we have seen Blitzø trying to persuade Stolas before, and this is not how he does it. Whenever he persuades Stolas for something that is based in purely selfish reasons, he leans on his sexuality and on Stolas’ desire, not on straight up begging. All day, he has been plagued by Loona’s words that Stolas has been getting bored of him, and the fact that the first thing Stolas does is request his grimoire back is proof that she was right.

But Blitzø, being Blitzø, can’t just say that he’s scared Stolas has gotten bored of him, so he goes back to the thing Stolas already knows: he needs the book for his job.

Stolas, of course, was anticipating this. That’s why he has the Asmodean crystal prepared and within reach to give to Blitzø in exchange, probably to assuage his fears about the future of his company. He genuinely cares about Blitzø’s passions, and because of that, he is genuinely invested in his work and wants to do whatever he can to help him. Additionally, not only will the crystal end the transactional nature of their relationship, it will free Blitzø—and his employees—of the burden of being held accountable for law breaking.

Blitzø, on the other hand, wasn’t expecting anything like this. He has known from day one that if Stolas ever takes his book back, that’s the end of I.M.P. For Stolas to then turn around and tell him that he got a crystal for him (and advocated to Asmodeus on Blitzø’s behalf, no less) is something he probably never imagined would happen, much less anticipated.

For Stolas, a member of demonic royalty and of a privileged class of demon, this isn’t that big of a gesture. It’s big, of course—Stolas isn’t stupid, he knows how difficult it is for a non-Lust demon to acquire one of these crystals and is aware that his connections are the reason he was able to do this at all—but to him, it’s something of a no-brainer.

Stolas could not imagine a reality where he denied Blitzø anything, at least not right now. So, in his desire to end the transaction, it’s only natural to him that he would find another way for Blitzø to do his job, one where he doesn’t have to rely on anyone but himself. And in a rational situation, Stolas would be entirely right.

But this isn’t a rational situation. Blitzø doesn’t hear that he’s not beholden to anyone anymore, what he hears is that his excuse to see Stolas and pretend that it isn’t emotional has been taken away from him. That’s why he says they can just keep doing things the old way: he’s so emotionally constipated that if he loses the book, he either has to confront his feelings for Stolas or never see him again. And it might not matter anyway, because if Blitzø believes that Stolas only wants sex and has grown bored of him, this is simply a very expensive way to say “I don’t need you anymore”.

I think Stolas placing the stone on Blitzø’s bracer is a very important detail for the way things go in both of their minds, and it is very different:

For Stolas, he has proven to Blitzø that he is serious in his offer, and that this crystal belongs to him. He knows Blitzø is suspicious and untrusting, and by fastening it to him in a way that means Stolas himself cannot take it back, it shows Blitzø that Stolas truly means what he’s saying. It’s a display of selfless sincerity, and of trust, because if Blitzø took off that moment, there would be nothing Stolas could really do about it.

However, for Blitzø, Stolas has just taken away his autonomy and made the decision for him. Before he even had a chance to parse his thoughts on what’s happening, Stolas places the crystal on him, even though the only answer he has given is a fairly explicit “but I don’t want this”.

When Stolas tells Blitzø that he doesn’t have to stay, but that Stolas wants him to, he is showing an emotionally vulnerable side of himself that he only ever lets Octavia see. He is bearing his soul to Blitzø, because he wants to make it perfectly clear what he wants. And it’s so very important to emphasize that Stolas is very clear and direct in what he wants, because he doesn’t want to accidentally give Blitzø the wrong impression. He’s put a lot of thought into this, primarily because he’s been obsessing over what he was going to say ever since he went to ask Asmodeus for the crystal in the first place.

However, it’s also important to remember that Stolas is the one who prepared himself for this conversation. Of course he has a beautiful speech prepared and has reasoned out his arguments and knows exactly what he plans to do.

Blitzø is not prepared for this, however. Blitzø, who has convinced himself that a prince could never actually want an imp (especially one like him), who has spent all day telling himself that he isn’t feeling emotional over this and running all over town to acquire as much as possible because he’s afraid Stolas is getting bored, is completely blindsided by the sudden deluge of real emotion that’s pouring out of Stolas. Blitzø is already exceedingly bad with words, and because of his self-hate, he leans on the idea that it’s a kinky roleplay because that’s so much easier for him to believe.

Stolas, of course, has no reason to know any of this. To his eye, he just presented his heart to Blitzø on a platter, and Blitzø immediately turned flippant and dismissive, an obvious rejection of what he just metaphorically gutted himself over. To him, Blitzø has just affirmed that he doesn’t take this seriously, isn’t anywhere near as invested in it as Stolas is himself, and doesn’t actually want him.

To Stolas, this is the end of the conversation. He ended the transaction, he asked Blitzø for a real relationship, and Blitzø said no. With nothing else to discuss, Stolas leaves the room, probably assuming Blitzø will leave the way he came in. I would imagine that, after living with Stella for so long, the best way to deal with an awkward situation has always been to remove himself from that situation entirely. For him, this is a kindness, because otherwise the room is about to get very uncomfortable.

To Blitzø, this is a dismissal that Stolas would give to a servant or someone else he deems as lesser. He even asks if Stolas was serious in a disbelieving manner, because the idea of everything Stolas said being genuine is too alien for him. When he runs after Stolas, he clearly still doesn’t even know what he’s going to say, because things are moving too fast for him to process.

Stolas is, in my opinion, completely justified in his feelings. He’s hurt, because he’s cared so much for Blitzø for so long, and he tells him as much because Stolas is still trying to be fully upfront and honest. He believes he received Blitzø’s answer, as well as confirmation that everything has always been about sex.

I think it’s this, in particular, that sets Blitzø off. The transactional relationship was Stolas’s idea. Stolas spent every moment they were together, especially early S1, doing nothing but hitting on Blitzø. He even tells Stolas, in his mind, that he knows he only wants sex after the disaster at Ozzie’s, which was also the last time they talked in person. Blitzø is hearing his own words being used against him, realizing how much it hurts, and lashing out because anger is how he responds to strong emotion. (This is a bad thing, by the way. I’m not condoning it, just making an observation.)

Because he’s lashing out, Blitzø proceeds to verbally dump on Stolas, but he says something very important: he tells Stolas he needs a minute to think.

Blitzø was, again, blindsided by this conversation. He was then put on the spot and made to give an answer immediately, and when he wasn’t able to provide an in-depth, soul-searching, thoroughly considered answer off the cuff, he lost any opportunity to even attempt to recover the situation. And in my opinion, this is the most unfair thing Stolas does this entire scene. He seems to have completely forgotten that Blitzø isn’t prepared, and expects him to be as ready for this as he is himself.

When Blitzø tears into Stolas about his station, and about how the rich treat people like him, it’s clearly something he’s been wanting to say for quite some time. But he’s emotional, he’s not thinking straight, and he says things far harsher than he means to (which I’ll expound on in a moment). One of Blitzø’s flaws is saying things without thinking them through, and it definitely fucks him over right here.

Blitzø has no way of knowing that what he just said to Stolas is almost identical to what Striker said when he kidnapped and almost killed Stolas. But it is: both of them directly state that Stolas uses people beneath him because he can. Just like Blitzø didn’t hear Stolas’s sincerity, Stolas isn’t hearing Blitzø’s turmoil. Instead, he hears that the man he loves has the same opinion of him as someone who tried to kill him multiple times. That has to be a heartbreaking feeling, especially since Stolas seems to have been actively working to not be like his fellow royals, and it hurts him that Blitzø doesn’t see that.

Blitzø doesn’t just feel bad when he sees Stolas crying. When he hears Stolas’s words, he realizes what it was that he just said and that he didn’t mean it. He even tries to apologize; when he reaches out, he’s halfway through “I’m sorry” once he realizes he’s been teleported outside. And Blitzø never apologizes, not so directly, which means he knows that he hurt Stolas and he knows that Stolas didn’t deserve it.

I also think so much of his frustration stems from the fact that he wasn’t given an opportunity to explain himself. It was explaining that started healing his relationship with Fizzarolli, after all, and not having the same chance here was clearly fucking him up.

Here’s my takeaway from this episode: this argument needed to happen if their relationship was going to evolve in a healthy way. Both of them had put too much baggage into what they currently had, and the only way to fix that was to dump it out on the proverbial table the way they did. And, because they needed to dump their baggage, it makes sense that it ended with both of them wounded.

Both of them need time to work things out, be alone with their thoughts, and try to get over their own bullshit.

Blitzø needs to learn how to let himself open up to emotion, even just a little bit, and how to express himself without sarcasm, anger, or tears.

Stolas needs to learn how to actually listen to others (which we know is a problem from the time he took Via to Loo Loo Land after being told point blank she didn’t want to go).

Both of them did things wrong. And both of them did things right: Stolas was so honest and straightforward, and Blitzø immediately realized a place he had fucked up and tried to fix it immediately. And I think this argument needed to be both of their fault, ultimately, because something on this scale would be almost impossible to come back from otherwise.

Painful, but necessary. And it’ll just mean their making up will be that much more satisfying.

#helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #full moon episode #full moon spoilers #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas #stolitz #analysis #helluva boss analysis

[lowkeychenle]

the hardest part [ZCL] (M) fic teaser

Description: You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.

Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst (please see content warnings)

Content Warnings: death of a close friend, survivor's guilt, lots of what-if scenarios, navigating life without someone you've always had around, mental break downs, panic attacks (not vividly described AS panic attacks), two people coming together to heal from grief, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, oral sex, mentions of sex, etc. although it's not super crazy so do with that what you will)

Release Date: 6.5.2024

Expected Word Count: 15-20k (maybe less?)

Teaser Word Count: 796

Taglist: Open!! Please let me know if you'd like to be added.

Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (featuring OC by the name of Jay)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

When nightfall comes, you and Chenle go to your separate rooms. He bids you goodnight, and you close your door. You sit on the edge of the bed and take in the room around you. Everything has changed immensely since the last time you were in your hometown. Your best friend bought a house, and you’d barely even thought or heard about it. Pride in him surges through you, but for a moment, you think it may be misplaced.

You don’t deserve to be proud of someone you’ve failed to talk to as often as you should have. Losing Jay has torn your world apart, and you still don’t truly believe it. You change into your tank top and shorts, and then grab your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag.

You’re on your way to the bathroom when you find Chenle in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and bringing a glass of water up to his lips. He gives you a tired nod.

“You’re still up?”

“Sleep on a day like this?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “I’ll probably have some crazy ass dream or something.”

You forget your adventure to his bathroom and approach the kitchen island. Without a word between the two of you, he goes into the cupboard to get you a cup as well. He fills it with water and slides it across the countertop.

“Thanks,” you say.

He nods once and crosses his arms over his chest. “How’s life going, though? Current events aside.”

“Life is a constant revolving door of work,” you tell him. “Working my way up the corporate ladder and all that bullshit they spew.”

“You look good. As long as you’re getting all the things you wanted, I’m good, too.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.

“Kind of debating if it was worth it at this point.” You sigh. “I’m proud of you, by the way. Buying a house on your own is a big deal.”

“Family business money.”

“You work. You earned it.”

“I guess that’s true. Thanks.” He pauses. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I’d be okay if you weren’t.”

“Like I’d ever leave you to deal with something like this alone.” You tap your fingers against the granite, admiring the swirls of color deep in the design.

“Regardless, I needed you.” Chenle gulps, glancing at his feet. “I still do. Now more than ever with Jay gone.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” you ask.

He wets his lips and takes the bottom one between his teeth. “It’s not that I thought that, necessarily, but I did wonder if you were. I didn’t hear from you, so I kind of just hoped.”

Guilt takes another stab at your heart. “Chenle, I—”

“Don’t apologize again,” he replies sternly. “Life is life. There’s no way any of us could’ve predicted this, okay? Sometimes, shit happens. Not being around a lot isn’t the end of the world.”

“It was for Jay.”

“You were not the end of the world. You didn’t kill him, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing any of us could’ve done. And reminiscing on it like this and placing unplaceable blame on ourselves is going to make things harder.” He sets his cup in the sink.

“I know. I know that, but for some reason, my head keeps—”

“Let’s watch a movie,” he offers. “Maybe it’ll distract you a little bit.”

You agree, and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you follow him into his room. It’s so innately Chenle in there, you immediately feel relaxed. Some things never change, and you’re glad he’s one of those things.

“Sorry, I don’t have a TV in the living room,” he says as he pulls his covers back.

“Just roll me off if I fall asleep,” you reply, climbing onto the untouched side.

Eventually, he’s next to you, and you rest your head on his chest while he finds something to watch. He selects some random comedy movie and then shuffles to put his arm around you.

His scent is familiar, too. The world calms around you when you’re with Chenle. One out of two of your safe places has left the Earth, but luckily for you, Chenle is more than ready to play both roles.

The movie does, indeed, successfully distract you from the impending doom of everything outside. You’re able to forget, even if it’s just for a couple hours, and sink into the familiarity of your best friend.

His chest rumbles when he laughs at the screen, and the feeling has you drifting faster than you’d care to admit.

Until finally, your eyes flutter shut and stay that way, and just like that, you have the best night of sleep you’ve had all week.

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct imagines #chenle smut #nct scenarios #chenle fluff #chenle angst #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct angst #zhong chenle

[dazzlingjaeyun]

I dont know if you make part two of stuff but it would rlly be great if u could make a part two of “sweet escape” ><

thank you, anon, for the request!! i'm glad you liked part one and i hope you'll like part two as well! this comes kinda late but i was very busy with my studies the past weeks so i apologize, but i hope this was the wait! <3

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 - 𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐢

best friend!riki x fem!reader

genre: fluff & comfort

warnings: mentions of cheating, swear words (bitch)

word count: ~1k

↝ part 1 | ↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

you had lost track of the time you spent on that bench together - but time didn't matter. what mattered was that you felt okay. like you always did with riki.

after some more time, riki decided to take you home, claiming it was getting too late and he didn't want your parents to realize you basically sneaked out.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

"riki?", you asked, your tone careful as you looked up at him with doe eyes.

"hmm?"

you fiddled with your fingers. "can you stay here? i don't want to be alone...", you confessed, the volume of your voice decreasing with each word you spoke.

riki bit down on his bottom lip, seemingly trying to find a reply.

"i don't think that's a good idea", he said. he felt bad for turning you down. but despite being your best friend for a long time, he didn't feel in the position to sleep over. not anymore, not now that you had a boyfriend. one that was already way too jealous, riki thought. he couldn't care less what your boyfriend thought about him, but he didn't want anything to get back to you.

you let out a short sigh, but you understood him and his motive without any verbal explanation. yet, you felt somewhat scared of how your feelings that you had successfully shoved away would hit you once you'd be alone. so you tried again.

"at least until i fell asleep?"

riki gave in, understanding that all you needed in that very moment was someone's company. although deep down, a tiny part of him wished it was specifically his company that you craved.

he waited until you laid down and sat on the floor next to your bed, facing you. you tucked yourself in your blanket and riki, for the second time that night, put a strand of hair behind your ear.

"good night, y/n" he so softly that it almost came out as a whisper.

you just hummed in response and closed your eyes, the exhaustion of crying for so many hours before taking over your body now that you were warm and comfortable in bed.

after some minutes, riki heard you breathing more evenly, signaling that you had fallen asleep. yet, he hesitated to get up.

instead, he remained seated on the floor, put his arms on your mattress and laid head on his hands so both your faces were only some centimeters apart.

your demeanor seemed so peaceful now that you were asleep and that alone almost warmed riki's heart. he fought the urge to stroke away the strand of hair that fell over your face again, not daring to touch you and risking waking you up.

only as he felt his eyes getting heavy, he slowly and carefully lifted his head from the mattress and stood up from the floor. he gave you one last smile before tiptoeing to the window to go back home.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

days later, you told riki why you had cried so bitterly that night. it wasn't really on purpose, the words rather slipped out of your mouth during your daily catch up call.

you didn't know what you expected when you accidentally told him that you had caught your boyfriend with another girl only hours before the video call that night. however, him hanging up on you in the middle of your sentence was definitely not what you expected.

around half an hour later, you heard a knock on your door, to which you just muttered an indifferent "come in".

the door opened to reveal no one other than your best friend. again unexpected after he had hung up so suddenly.

he was carrying a small bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. before you could even open your mouth to ask, he cut you off.

"please tell me you broke up with him", he said sternly, as he walked into your room, past your bed and to your nightstand.

"that's what i was telling you. you'd know if you hadn't hung up on me mid sentence!", you replied, crossing your arms.

"what are you doing anyways?", you asked, dropping your attitude and now rather showing confusion, as you saw riki taking a picture frame from your nightstand.

"you still have this picture of the two of you here. i think it's time to get rid of his annoying face", he replied, his attention on the picture frame. he opened it, took out the photo and instead placed the piece of paper he had brought inside.

after he closed the frame and put it back to it's place, you could see what the piece of paper was; a small drawing, again of your favorite flowers.

riki handed you the bouquet before sitting next to you on your bed.

"these are for you... sort of as a cheer up? and when they're wilted, you have a mini version of them here", he said while pointing to the drawing on your nightstand, "these will stay with you"

"i'm sorry for what you had to go through. i know these won't turn back time and they won't change what happened, but...", he hesitated, "i want their beauty to remind you of your own. you're a beautiful person with a beautiful soul and you never deserved any of this"

you felt your heart warming and tears pooling in your eyes as you pouted at the gesture and his words.

riki gave you a soft smile and patted your head carefully.

"i'll make him regret hurting you. and i promise i'll take better care of you from now on"

you slowly shook your head.

"it's not your fault he's a bitch", you replied, which made riki chuckle a little. "thank you for all of this, really"

"anything for you", he replied. like he did so many times. when it came to you, that would always be his reply, no questions asked.

"i'll make up for all the effort you always put into everything, i promise"

this time, he shook his head. "no need to", he smiled as he pulled you into a hug. "i like being your sweet escape"

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

thank you so much for reading up until here and special thanks for the request!! it means the entire world to me and i hope you guys enjoyed it. please do not copy. ❤︎︎

feel free to leave feedback & interact!

- dazzlingjaeyun

#enhypen #enhypen au #engene #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen niki #niki x reader #nishimura riki #enhypen fluff

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 40/?

Prev | Next

Jason gets Bruce's message. What could be on it? Tim doesn't know how to leave well enough alone

Jason stared at the recorder.

Raven had asked him to meet him somewhere away from Tadoussac but had refused to tell him why. He met her about 200 miles away from the village. It’s a good thing he could fly and fly fast at that.

That’s how Jason ended up in the middle of some random woods while Raven explained what Bruce had done and said to her.

“He seemed to mean it. I didn’t notice any trackers, but I’m no expert. That’s why I asked you to come here instead of me bringing it to you. You can check for trackers. If you want to leave it here, too, that’s fine by me. I already did my job to deliver it to you.”

“Thanks, Raven, you’re the best.”

Raven nodded and then floated into the sky, leaving Jason alone with his thoughts. He kept staring at the little recorder. It looked so innocent, so…unassuming. Jason had no idea how long he had stood in the middle of the woods looking at it, but eventually, he sighed and turned invisible. He floated into the sky and flew toward home.

He had a son to pick up from school, after all.

That night, after everyone else had gone to sleep for the night, Jason couldn’t help but take out the recorder. On it was his father’s words. His voice…What did he have to say to Jason? Was it words of condemnation? Words of disappointment? Did he never want to see Jason again? Was he angry? What did he think of his wayward son? The one who broke every rule he had been taught?

Jason bit his lip.

“Fuck it,” he had to know.  

Jason sucked in a breath at hearing Bruce’s voice.

“Jason, my son. I have to begin with an apology. I was too late to protect you from the Joker, my first mistake. And when you returned to us, I failed again, this time in not embracing you as I should have. When you first appeared before me, I was in denial. My son couldn’t be a murderer. I was…lost. In pain.”

“However, that doesn’t excuse the way I hurt you. I—I should have never thrown that batarang.”

Jason touched the scar on his throat. He suddenly had a hard time breathing.

“I should never have saved the Joker and left you there. It’s true I don’t kill, but I could’ve found a different way to resolve the problem. I pride myself on making plans and being prepared. I should’ve found a different way to settle the stand-off between you, me, and the Joker. Instead…”

Bruce took a deep breath.

“Instead, I hurt you.”

There was such a long pause that Jason thought Bruce had stopped there.

“After discovering about the League of Assassins and the Lazarus Pits, I thought to myself, ‘I’ll let the effects run its course and bring Jason back into the fold slowly.’ Then, I got lost in time, and I came back and found out what you had done while I was gone. I was furious, to say the least. Furious—and disappointed.”

Jason sucked in a breath. This was it. This is when Bruce said how much of a failure Jason was.

“I blame myself again. I failed you. I should have treated you like a son. Instead, I treated you like a threat, an enemy.”

Another deep breath.

“When you started to calm down and kill less and less. When you became less angry…I was an idiot. I should’ve brought you back into the fold. I thought I had all the time in the world. I thought you would’ve stayed close to the family in Gotham, even if apart. I was arrogant. I thought you would come to us instead of having to go to you.”

“I know now that I made a mistake. I should’ve tried to find ways to show that I wanted you back with me. I wanted my son back, but I was hurt. Now, you’re gone, and I have no idea where you are. I understand it isn’t on you; it’s on me for not opening my arms…for ostracizing you from the family.”

“Jason, I will not look for you anymore. You deserve to live how you want to without having to worry about being searched for. Don’t worry, the rest of the family won’t look for you either. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You don’t have to come back if you don’t want to. As much as I miss you and want your back, I respect your decision. Know that I will always be here, waiting with open arms. I love you, my son.”

Jason didn’t notice he was crying until the tears hit the back of his hands. He couldn’t help but rewind the recording, hearing his father tell him the same thing over and over again.

“I love you, my son…I love you, my son…I love you, my son.”

Jason fell asleep to his father’s voice, expressing his love.

____

Bruce stared out of the window from his home office.

Had Jason gotten his message? Would he listen to it?

“What’s got you brooding now, sir?”

Bruce wanted to glare at the butler but knew he couldn’t. It was hard to glare at his father figure…especially since he had been right all along.

“I’m just thinking.”

“Hmm, well, I think you should eat instead of glaring into the sunset.”

“Do you think I did the right thing? Maybe I shouldn’t have sent Jason that recording. I could’ve made things worse.”

“I think you opened the line of communication. Whether Master Jason wants to listen to it is up to him. You did what you could. It’s up to him now.”

“Hmm,” Bruce looked at his phone as another message pinged. His other children had been texting him all day, asking if he was sure he wanted to stop looking for Jason.

No, he wasn’t sure, but he had promised his second eldest he would call off the search. He wanted to keep it. Strangely enough, Tim had not answered him and left him on read. However, he was on a mission, so he might not have time to answer. Bruce put his phone down and sighed.

Now, all he could do was wait and hope.

____

Tim ignored the memo Bruce had sent out. No, he would not stop looking for Jason, especially since he had found him.

“Bruce doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Tim grumbled as he left the airport in Montreal. “Jason needs to return so things can go back as they were.”

Bruce had forgotten that Tim had appointed himself as Bruce’s, Batman’s, caretaker. He took up the mantle of Robin because Bruce needed Robin. He needed his children, all of them. If not, Batman couldn’t be efficient. He would reunite the family, and then Bruce could care for Gotham.

Tim rented a car and pointed toward Jason. He would bring him home.

I think sometimes people forget how feral, unhinged, and obsessive Tim is, and I hope I captured that here. Anyway, he's gonna get a rude awakening soon. By soon I mean next chapter

Also, according to the comments people want Avril to stay enemies with Jason but to have a mutual respect when it comes to books. You're wish is my command

Hope you liked.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife

#Mending a Family #dc x dp #dp x dc

[eydi-andrius]

Soldier Down (Harvey x Reader)

Synopsis: After the heart wrenching experience of rejection from the last flower dance, you decided to skip it on year 2 making your newfound friends worried

a/n: the idea is all over the place... maybe. i just wanted to write something for my husband of two years, which was Harvey the town doctor. sorry, i got is so bad for him 😭

tw/cw: badly edited... it's 3AM, i wrote it after some idea boost, fluff, mild angst, happy ending

divider: @/cafekitsune

“What do you mean you're not going to participate in this year's flower dance?” Emily almost flipped the sewing machine over when out of the blue you confessed your desire to not join the spring flower dance, an event in which everyone was looking forward to participating, except George who hates the look and smell of the flowers.

Meanwhile, beyond Emily’s shoulder, you watched as Haley, who was in the kitchen, minding her own business, turned her head slowly, frown plastered on her forehead, as she stared at you. Are you for real?, was written all over her pretty face. Haley loves the flower dance. In fact, you know she makes an effort to look the prettiest on that special day. The look of disbelief is so strong, that you found yourself clenching the glass of orange juice you're holding, trying to look small behind it. Wishing that it can hide you from the shame that's slowly creeping in.

Gulping the sweet and sour orange liquid in one go, you prayed that even without alcohol, the citrus would give you courage not to stutter and look like an idiot trying to explain your plan to skip an important event in the valley after experiencing a silly little rejection. Everyone gets rejected here and there. There is no way one rejection left you that traumatized……right?

“Well…..Uhmmm…. I just don't want to. I- I don't feel like joining.” Great. What a plan. And you practiced the reason in front of the mirror way too many times before finally having courage to share this big decision.

Palm sweaty, you tried clenching the evidence of fear on your denim pants, rubbing and squeezing, in hopes that it will help dry your hands. But, it did nothing to calm your nerves, absentmindedly, your right leg started shaking. Head hot from a million thoughts running inside your mind, scared that Emily and Haley will judge you the moment they found out that even after a year, you still can't get over how Harvey declined your offer to dance with him. At that time, when he mentioned that he was working on his courage to ask someone out, it gave you false hope that he may be referring to you. It may sound like a stretch but you thought there was something blooming with your relationship with him. It seems that way….. or so you’ve thought.

In your first year, as an early riser, you always meet the doctor at his clinic. Most of the time, you just see him by his window, sitting in front of the reception, waiting for any of the townsfolk to ask for his assistance. Your interaction started off with shy glances, which turned into a curt nod of acknowledgement, a nod turned into small smiles, smiles became hesitant waves of your hand, and a wave evolved into a morning routine of exchanging pleasantries and coffee before you two start your long day at work and doing your respective responsibilities.

You were so happy, and you admit at that time, you're grateful that despite the doctor being a bit awkward and shy, you two clicked and are forming a bond, and you usually don't admit your feelings easily, but you know deep down that you're starting to like him. He was so sweet and caring afterall. How could you resist him?

So when the rejection came on the day of the event, when you asked him politely to be your partner, then he awkwardly looked away and kindly said no. It felt like a bucket of ice cold water was splashed on your face. Your body went rigid, a chill ran down your spine, until it turned into a scorching fire of shame. After a mess of mumbling apologies, wishing that a hole would open up and swallow you down, you half walk and run as you left the forest and did not watch the whole event unfold. You were so glad that at that time, your tanned skin, after days of being under the sun farming, had hidden your embarrassment well from their naked eyes.

You involuntary flinched, when a firm hand held your shaking leg and effectively stopped the movement. Blurry eyes start focusing on Emily’s face, her eyes reflecting your ashen appearance, pity and worry were mixed on her gaze, and you admit that you feel small and vulnerable in front of her……and Haley, who held your shoulder and squeezed it to give you comfort. You did not notice her coming close at all. It says a lot on how you must have looked in their eyes. They must have been worried sick.

“Sorry. We don't want you to remember anything awful that may have happened that day. But maybe the doctor has his own reasons when he rejected you. It was your first month after all. Doctor Harvey is known to be very awkward and shy. Maybe he was just shy???” Your blue haired friend shrugged as she tried her best to reason out and make you feel better. A scoff was heard from Haley as she disapproves of what Emily said, or so you thought.

“I can't believe I am defending a man but my sister is right. Doctor Harvey is far too much of a softie to purposely play with your heart and reject you after giving you motives.” She tuts. “I bet he was feeling a bit overwhelmed that someone asked him for a dance. You know…. Choosing to dance with him, while the other younger bachelors were around.” She continued as a matter of fact.

You watched as Emily glared at Haley��s sharp tongue and the blonde just shook her shoulders with no care. Chuckling nervously, you twiddle with your thumbs as you process what they’ve said. It is easier said than done. You have been in this headspace for a year, that despite their words being reasonable, you just can't believe it to be true. Doctor Harvey probably has his eyes set on someone smarter. You are quite bright but not as smart as Maru.

“I- I don't know.” Unsure, you look at them, lip on a thin line. Now that you're on the hotseat and being grilled about it, you hope to steer away from the conversation. It's just childish to you, even though the sisters never called you anything similar to that. You felt childish. You were grateful when your phone alarm went off, screaming and screeching, signaling that the gold bars you processed are ready for harvest. After that, you have to go to Jodi and give it to her to finish her request and get some gold coins, which you have to use to save up for summer crops. Still far away per say but better saved up than use your dwindling savings again if something disastrous happens. Just like the last time where your crops suddenly died despite being taken care of.

Also, you just don't want to bawled your eyes out. Knowing Emily and Haley, they will try their best to cheer you up. You know you can't stay here with them trying to boost your confidence without crying. And you don't want to cry. It's too cliché. So with an obvious rush on your steps, you almost jump out of their door and run towards the nearest way to your home, which was near Marnie’s barn.

“Do you really think the doctor is not playing with her heart?” Emily sighed as she watched the door, you almost closed way too loudly, as you obviously rushed towards it, with an intent to run away from the conversation you started. She would lie if she says she’s not worried. Despite the farmer being known to be strong-willed, both physical and mentally, she's also an empath and a softie. You feel things way too strongly. This is why Emily likes you a lot. She can be vulnerable towards you because she knows you’ll understand better than anyone in Pelican Town. And with that, she hopes that only good things come your way.

“Remember the story Abigail told you on your shift? After the accident with the farmer fainting inside the mines, Abigail rushed her to his clinic, barely alive, and he was waiting and ready. Remember that before that, he would often be seen to have his lights on at night, way past his usual bedtime, especially, on days wherein he knew that the farmer was inside the mines. If that isn't love, I don't know what that is?” Haley sighed as she flopped herself on the nearby couch. 

“He is the only town doctor, Haley. That's to be expected.” She doesn't want to be the party pooper but that needs to be addressed as well. 

“Emily…..usually, it would be you defending someone. But weirdly enough, I am doing it this time. So okay, let's make it our mission to help the doctor and the farmer to choose each other in this year’s flower dance. Doctor Harvey is a man of routine, however, when the farmer is included in the equation, he would go out of his way to accommodate her. I just have a good feeling about this. I bet they'll get married this year.” Haley shrugged before she pulled out her phone texting for reinforcements. 

“Luckily, this Thursday is my annual check-up.”

“Remind me again why you two are at my farm?” You blinked as you watched Sebastian and Sam sit at your porch after they showed up earlier while you’re tending to your livestocks.

“How many times do we have to say that we came here to practice? You’re not sensitive to loud sounds. Your farm is huge. We can all jam here together.” He explained.

See…that's the thing. Sebastian, you would understand he’ll come here. He loves the quiet of the farm and would often help you out as a thank you for letting him stay and relax, here and there. But Sam? Sam hates the smell of animal manure. He also hates ducks because as per his story, he was chased down by them when he was a kid. Something is not right but you can't quite pinpoint where it was coming from.

Your suspicion may be written all over your face because Seb shrugged and sighed at his best friend's awful excuse.

“Sam just wants to see Helios.” Seb spoke.

As if on cue, upon hearing his name, a loud bark was heard from afar, and you heard his paws hitting the soft soil before you saw a brown dog, wearing a red collar, rushing towards where you three were standing. Like a giddy kid, Sam's eyes widened and he excitedly kneel and open his arms, waiting for Helios to go towards him. Helios, the smartest pup, went towards Sam without hesitation, knowing he’ll get good treats and pets from him.

You don't want to spoil Sam’s delusion that he was your pup’s favorite, but you and Helios know that it was Harvey he liked the most. Even your old rescue, Helga, the big orange grumpy cat, purrs at the doctor when he visits the farm. Helga isn't nice just to anyone. Even Seb took a long time before Helga finally purred at him. Yet, Harvey was loved at first sight. It was obvious that it was because he is very gentle towards them. You also witnessed a time where he was talking to them. Retelling stories of his childhood where his parents hated pets because they are dirty and a source of diseases. Their obsession and hatred towards the baby animals made Harvey anxious and avoided adopting any pet, not because he thinks they were a handful, but he feels conscience, that he wasn't able to do anything to save the cats and dogs his parents threw away after trespassing in their property.

You bite your lip when you realize that you're thinking about him again. The pang in your chest grows more painful as the day passes by, and the spring flower dance is getting closer, and no action was taken on your end. You want to dance with him. You want your intention towards him to be clear. However, the fear and doubt takes over and you crumple like a coward.

“Hey, you should ask the doctor about this upcoming flower dance.” Out of nowhere, Seb suggested. And there was something that clicked in your head.

So that….was the reason why they are here.

“Oh god no!” You grimaced and shook your head in refusal. Emily or Haley must have told him about what you’ve talked about last time.

“Emily told you?!” You asked, exasperated.

“She doesn't need to. It's a small town. Eventually, everyone will know.” He corrected your assumption and leaned towards the armrest of his seat. Your response was only a sigh, as you focused your attention on Sam and Helios, who was now playing fetch with a ball.

“Sam didn't know about this?” Putting your arm around your chest, you clarified.

“Nah. He does. He got distracted.” He shrugged. Internally, you heavily sighed.

“Then tell me how you found out?” You pry him some more.

“Should I tell you? I mean…it seems like you told Emily and Haley, and not me, your best friend. It kind of sucks.” He pouted.

You playfully slapped his shoulder at that and he only rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Fine! I’ll spill!” He raised his hand in surrender.

“Haley texted me.” He admitted with a grin.

“You are the worst!” You slap him again, but this time, you made sure it will hurt.

“I’m sorry! Hey! I said I’m sorry! Hahahaha!” Sebastian used his arms to shield himself from your attacks, and he had the audacity to laugh out loud from your hits.

When his laughter annoyed you more, shame and frustration mixed together, you made sure that some of the playful punches actually hit him quite hard. He yelped when he finally felt that you meant it, and used his strength to stop you from your continuous onslaught of him. He grabbed your hands and chuckled at your pouting lips and frowning brows.

There was a pause and you watched as something flashed in his eyes before he smiled.

“Don’t be scared. There is nothing wrong inviting and asking him again. The fifty percent chance of him saying no, is still a fifty percent chance of him saying yes. I mean….if he ever said no” He paused, his face morphed thoughtfully.

“I can always dance with you to the flower dance.” He continued.

You felt warmth from that, and you cannot help but smile.

Sebastian was like a brother to you. It was weird. But the moment you two met each other, there was this bond, that was akin to being siblings that was created.

He always looked out for you, and you always looked out for him. Robin being fond of you was probably one of the main reasons why your sibling-like relationship with him strengthened.

He is like a baby brother that you never had. However, you know that Sebastian always thinks he is the eldest brother which was a lie because you are two years older than him.

Seb’s sincere smile suddenly changed into a cheshire one, and you kind of got a hint that he will make fun of you.

But before you two could banter, a loud, intentional coughing was heard behind you and you froze when the source spoke.

“I- Hi! Sorry for interrupting.” He started with a stutter.

You suddenly realized the position you were at. Sebastian holding both of your hands, your faces inched closer from arguing. Embarrassed, you pulled your hand away from his hold, and like the speed of the lightning, moved farther from Seb, clenching both of your fists. Your face and ears, hot to the tips.

“Hey, doc! What are you up to?” Sebastian casually asked. And you gave him a deadly glare. He only smirked at your reaction.

You panicked as you watched Harvey look in between the both of you, and was about to open your mouth to explain, when the doctor smiled, although forcefully, as he continued.

“Well…uhnnnnm..I replenished the tonics I have at the clinic. I was wondering if you would like to buy some?” He asked, but he was looking down while offering.

“Didn't know you’re selling house to house now, Doctor Harvey?” Seb teased.

Your eyes widened at that, and you mouthed a threat at him, in which Sebastian only replied with a shrug.

“I-I usually don't. But the farmer was always in the mines so..I thought…uhm…I” Harvey’s face turned into a tomato, and his eyes were wide, as he stammered, and tried to explain why he was at your farm. He was caught off guard from the younger man’s question. He felt awfully shameful, the red was even creeping up to his neck.

“Harvey, it's okay. Seb was just teasing you.” You tried to deescalate the situation, and you stepped down from your porch, to come closer to the reddened Harvey.

Deep inside you are panicking for him. His red face, and embarrassed stammer, makes your heart beat faster, infected by his shame. You feel like your heart will jump out of your ribs.

Out of nowhere, Sam suddenly came into view, and tapped the doctor on his shoulder to say Hi.

As if the action woke him up, Harvey flinched, and he suddenly bid his farewell but with reminding you to come to his clinic if you ever needed a tonic when you mine and combat monsters.

You watched his back, as he rode his bicycle away from your farm, watching him slowly going away left a pang on your chest.

When he was out of view, your attention however, was now back to the culprit. With no person to stop you, you removed one of your slippers and threw it at Sebastian, who crouched down to hide, but was still hit straight to his head. He yelped in pain, but soon you heard his laughter.

Sam was oblivious and frowning, when Sebastian’s laugh boomed and he tried his best to apologize and breathe at the same time.

You cannot sleep.

Yoda, forgive you for picturing Harvey’s downcast face when he saw you with Sebastian.

It was an image you do not wish to see. But every time you close your eyes, you see it oh so perfectly.

You don't wish to see Harvey sad or misinterpreting your relationship with Sebastian.

Yet, you have no strength to stand and go to him to explain or clarify.

Because….what if you're just assuming things? What if he wasn't really sad but just surprised? What if? Yoda! Too many what ifs!

You ruffled your hair from frustration, and you kind of forgot that Helga was sleeping beside your head. You profusely apologize when the old cat hissed at you, before jumping down, and comfortably sitting on the jacket Harvey lent for you to use. It was raining, and you were soaking when you visited him at his clinic.

At that time, you insisted that you are okay. That the rain will make your farmer body stronger. But he only pouted at that reasoning, and you cannot help but accept his offer anyways, because he looks so cute when he cares. Technically, he looks so cute in everything he does.

Those memories are precious to you. And you have this feeling that if you let this go, it will be the end of your relationship with him.

You have to make it up to Harvey. Whether he likes you or not. You cannot live knowing he misunderstood. Out of all the people in Pelican Town, you don't want to be perceived wrongfully by Harvey.

After yelling on your pillow, for courage, you stood up, wore your scarf, and started walking towards the clinic. With renewed vigor, you did not think things through, and you found yourself just standing in front of his door. Not knowing what to do.

Thoughts were on a haywire, you were breathing heavily, trying to force yourself, remind your head, why you were here in front of his door at 12 AM.

The courage that gave you strength earlier, slowly diminishes, and you realize how cold it was. Your teeth were chattering and you were shaking involuntarily from the bone chilling wind. You hugged the scarf tighter hoping it gives you enough warmth ... .as you walk back to the farm again. Feeling cowardly when it hit you how stupid you must have looked walking on an unmarried man’s house way past midnight.

You looked one last time at his mahogany door, deciding that whatever good idea you had was probably bad, as you stepped back, retrieved your hand, that was ready to knock, finally ready to just go back home and forget this…

When his door opened, revealing a disbehelved Harvey, glasses crook, hair was everywhere, white shirt soaked from sweat and breathing heavily from probably running from upstairs to downstairs just to meet you.

You were about to open your mouth, was about to ask him how did he know that you were in front of his door, when he explained himself after he was able to breathe.

“Your glow rings. It was only you who wore glow rings in Pelican Town.” Your cheeks heated at that and you involuntarily looked down on your fingers and in there, you were indeed wearing one of your glow rings you use for the mines. It was an automatic response. Wearing your glow rings at night, to see the dimmed pathways better.

“Oh Yoda! I’m so sorry for waking you up!” You panicked, and apologized profusely when you understood that you interrupted someone’s sleep again due to your glow rings. You remembered how the Mayor scolded you to make sure to remove or darken your ring once you walked past the town, on your way home to the farm.

“You didn't wake me!” He countered. “I cannot sleep.” He admitted face was red.

“Oh.”

Was your only response before there was a pregnant pause that swallowed the whole conversation to a full stop. You bite your lip, thinking of many things to say to change the awkward silence. But truthfully, you don't know how. You watch him as he just stands there, cheeks red, hands on his neck, and shyly looking away. The crickets were loud, and you watched as the moths danced around the light post. Although the silence was loud…..it was weirdly comfortable.

“Would you like some tea?” He offered. Breaking the ice.

You nodded, not trusting to open your mouth, afraid to say anything that may sabotage whatever was starting.

You followed him up to his room upstairs, and he guided you to sit on his two person dining table. He apologized for how small his place was and you assured him it was okay, and it was you who was imposing.

While his back was turned on the kitchen preparing the tea, you looked around, and you cannot help but smile on seeing the familiar wallpaper of his room, and the posters of different planes plastered on his wall. You swore, it looks fuller now. It seems like the space for his planes are bigger than the ones for his medical profession. You chuckled at that.

“Care to share?” He playfully asked as he sat the steaming mug of chamomile tea in front of you, its aroma filling a sense of calm and familiarity, which you liked.

“You're building a new model plane again? Looks fun.” You nodded on the new wooden pieces on his work bench. He followed your eyes and smiled sheepishly at your attention and observation.

“Ah..yes. I was hoping to show it to you. Invite you over earlier when…” He paused and looked at you. When you felt his eyes on you, you stared back at him.

You felt like that was the perfect moment to say something.

“Sebastian is like a brother to me. Nothing more.” You explained, gripping the warm and comfortable tea cup, nervous of what he may tell you.

Maybe it was the warm cup, or the shift of energy in the air, that made you feel vulnerable and open as you blurted out a confession.

“Harvey…it was only you I like.”

At that moment, you have forgotten your dilemma that maybe he doesn't like you the same. At that time, you just felt that it was the right time to confess. You thought it was now or never.

You watched as his brown eyes widened, his mouth agape, he looked surprised, face blank from any emotions of rejection or happiness.

You were hopeful until you weren't. His none response jarring your confidence.

It took a couple of seconds before you felt the shame coming back, he was just staring at you, quiet, surprised, not saying a word.

You feel so bad, ashamed, that when he doesn't say anything, you started rapping, telling him he is not required to respond right away, that it wasn't your intention to drop a bomb to him late at night, that it was just you being silly, or probably just from the lack of sleep.

You were mouthing off a hundred and thousand of reasons and explanations, to get yourself out of the embarrassing moment, when you suddenly felt soft lips enveloping yours, warm calloused hands caging your face, moving in the direction in sync with his lips.

It was gentle and soft. Like a warm breeze in the field of flowers. Trees swaying, fallen leaves dancing, and air sweet as a honey.

You were never kissed like this before.

Most kisses you had were inexperienced, aggressive, and wild. This one…you liked it.

No, you love it.

You never thought that kisses could be felt like this. A warmth pooling in your stomach as you place your hand atop his, deepening the kiss, lost in the feeling.

There was only you and Harvey. And you think…. that wasn't such an awful idea to have. You feel lucky and blessed.

You slowly opened your eyes when Harvey let go of your lips, hands still in your face.

“Would you dance with me? This spring flower dance?” He asked. His whole demeanor changed. He felt much relaxed.

“I cannot think of anyone dancing with me that day.” You smiled, leaning closer to his hand. Happy that everything feels like it is in place.

The moment was beautiful and solemn, until a flash was directed on the window where you and Harvey were standing. Both of your heads snapped from its source and you cannot help but guffaw when your friends push against each other, as they fight off getting away first from being caught after they took a photo of you together.

#eydi andrius #fic: soldier down #sdv harvey #stardew harvey #harvey stardew valley #harvey stardew imagine #stardew valley #harvey fanfic #harvey x reader #harvey x farmer #harvey x you #harvey x y/n

[neurospiczzzziee]

Okay Full Moon thoughts. . .WARNING SPOILERS

First of all I want to say it was amazing and damn gorgeous. The coloring of that episode was so damn pretty. Also this is the word vomit on my first thoughts and opinions. I'm currently recovering from surgery.

Can I just say that how it turned out was probably the best case scenario. Stolas did not give Blitzø the time to actually process what was happening and what Stolas was actually saying.

From Blitzø's POV he was going in thinking he was just going to be tossed aside and has extremely low self esteem. Blitzø is literally in shock and follows after Stolas even after Stolas is shutting down and pushing him away. Blitzø is not good at feelings and is practically yelling, but he isn't running away. He is CHASING HIM and panicking.

Direct quotes:

Stolas: "I have my answer Blitzø, you needn't say anything. I have wanted you for so long. The fact that you couldn't believe that I might have feelings about you. That your first instinct is that it's always about sex that's enough to know what this is."

Blitzø "what!? Fuck you Stolas! You spring this feelings bullshit on me. Are you fucking kidding. Can I get a fucking minute to think after everything you put me through! You pompous rich asshole! Treat me like one of your little Butler imps. You can't dismiss me like that. I mean you royal fucks think you can do this every time. Like you can just play without feelings because we are smaller and not as important! Well I'm not letting you, Bitch! LET'S GO!"

Stolas: Blitz I think so very highly of you. I didn't realize that you think so low of me. Goodbye Blitz.

Blitzø: Stolas wait! I'm sor- what the FUCKKK!

Okay so hear me out. . .

To me it seems like again Blitzø is fighting to not be dismissed because he is in shock and in a way is yelling at Stolas saying that he isn't going to let him run away. It feels like Blitzø is panicking and grasping at straws and trying to keep Stolas's attention the only way he knows how to. By yelling. But he is in a frantic word vomiting moment and is frantically trying to keep Stolas's attention, but also is so frustrating because he feels like he is being abandoned and not given a chance. So everything he said turns out wrong.

I can't help think of the parallel between his just healed relationship between Blitzø and Fizz. Blitzø learned that he can't just run away. In the past he has always run away when things have gotten bad. Hence his relationship with Verosika. But he has finally realized that he cares about Stolas and isn't allowing him to get away. He's trying to resolve, but Stolas is shutting him out.

This is setting Blitzø up so well for the upcoming episode apology tour and shows that Blitzø has gone through character growth.

Not me over here being a Blitzø apologist.

Also Stolas is valid in his feelings.

#helluva boss #blitzø #stolas #stolitz #full moon #spoliers

[wlwprker]

coming out- s.r. x gn!reader

a/n: this is my first time writing for gn! reader so i apologize if it's not great! In honor of pride month coming up, I wanted to write a little blurb of reader coming out as bi to spencer, ik some people don't have the best experiences w/ coming out so i hope this provides you with comfort! I want every single one of you reading this to know that no matter how you identify, you are VALID and loved :) bi!reid is real to me !!

warnings: insecurities, self-doubt, i didn't proofread too much sorry for grammar or spelling mistakes!! bold and italics! lowercase intended

wc: 913

you always knew you were different than most people your age in almost every single way. you didn't like parties, you found peace within the pages of a book rather than at a bass boosting party with alcohol and strangers compacted into one area. you liked the rain especially the petrichor that the rain provided, it was peaceful.

however, you could get lost in your own head just thinking about anything and everything. today's topic that was plaguing your mind was your sexuality, a very touchy subject. you knew so many people who knew who they were at the start but that was just not you, you found people attractive which is normal, but it wasn't until high school that something had changed, and you weren't prepared for it, so you pushed it down so far that you thought it wasn't real.

it was very real. you thought the way you felt for your friend was a platonic feeling but it wasn't. you daydreamed about them, being with them, wanting to cross the line of friendship. you yearned for them and every single conversation, meaningless touch, every look...it drove you crazy.

so now all that repressing has come back to the surface all these years later and you're forced to address these feelings, emotions and thoughts all at once. what scared you more than anything was having to come out, that was something that you never have had to do before.

naturally, your mind shifted to spencer. you haven't been together long, but you hoped he wouldn't look at you differently or treat you differently, it terrified you. it was way too early in the morning for this, you had to get ready for work, spencer always was up earlier than you, so he wasn't home. you sighed and shook off your thoughts as you got ready and grabbed breakfast and coffee and headed to work.

you both worked at the BAU, and you both knew it was risky to be together because of what the job entailed but spencer and you wanted to take that risk. work was a good distraction from being stuck inside your head, you could use something to push those thoughts far away.

however, spencer knew you like the back of his hand, he knew something was wrong, but you had to be in the briefing room for a case, he would find time to talk to you. the case was a rough one to put it lightly, everyone felt drained mentally and emotionally which just added more thoughts to your head.

"you're not sleeping?", spencer said quietly so he wouldn't startle you. you shrugged and avoided his eyes because you knew if you looked in his eyes, his eyes would be asking you to talk to him, you can't, not yet.

spencer noticed the way you didn't look at him and his eyebrows furrowed in worry, he knew you didn't want to talk but there was clearly something circling in your mind.

the jet ride back to the office was quiet, very quiet. as soon as the jet landed, you grabbed your stuff and waited for spencer. spencer packed his stuff and put an arm around your waist, and you started to walk towards the parking lot, but spencer softly guided you to the empty briefing room.

"spencer, what are we doing in here?", you asked curiously. he didn't answer he just looked at you, waiting for you to meet his eyes.

"what is running through that mind of yours?"

you didn't answer and spencer lifted your chin up with his finger, so you were now looking at him. "there's that pretty face!"

you couldn't fight the smile that appeared on your face. spencer always knew how to lift your spirits no matter what. it was one of the endless reasons why you adore him so much, you are so grateful to have someone who cares for you as much as he does.

"it's nothing, it's stupid"

"if it's bothering you, it's not stupid", spencer whispered, and you knew that you couldn't keep it in anymore, it was spencer, he has never judged you.

"i just don't want you to think about me differently"

spencer's heart twisted in pain at the mere thought that you were worried he would think of you in a different way. "sweetheart, there is nothing that you could do or say that will change the way i feel about you"

you took a deep breath and played with your necklace as you worked up the courage to finally speak. "i'm bisexual and i've been driving myself absolutely crazy because I didn't want you to like think of me or treat me differently. not that you would but i get so lost in my own head and i was just so scared that i-" spencer cut off your rambling by grabbing your face in his hands and kissed you with so much adoration, you felt dizzy.

"thank you for trusting me with this, angel but i love you, you know that right? it doesn't matter to me who you love because you're still all i want every day of my life"

spencer reid will be the death of you.

"i love you too, spence", you said as he feigned a sigh of relief, and you rolled your eyes playfully at his antics.

"at least we have another thing in common"

you raised your eyebrows at him, and he smiled brightly back at you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #wlwprker🥀💌 #criminal minds #spencer reid x gn reader

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Love is a killer that never dies (part 3)

Dracule Mihawk x reader. NSFW!! Discussion of dub-con.

Sex Pollen!AU for the short series that began with Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart). Can be read as a standalone.

This is part three of four.

Title taken by another song by Beast in Black -Born Again- since it's not part of the main continuity. Kuraigana Island is Mihawk's home in the manga/anime.

Shanks being in a relationship with his crew's doctor is an allusion to this headcanon list and then to this fic, even though they take place in a different continuity.

*****

He would have expected pain to keep him awake, but in the end fatigue got the best of him, his body and mind welcoming the vague, unsatisfactory relief of a fitful sleep from which, the swordsman had no doubt, he would awake feeling more tired than before. He dreamed of her, dreams both lurid and terrifying in which he assaulted (name) to satisfy his needs, or where she gladly let him take her in his arms, before disappearing in thin air a moment before Mihawk could kiss her, the slumber interspersed with moments of pure delirium, in which the swordsman heard the name of the woman he loved leave his lips in a neverending prayer, and his hands ran all over his body in the attempt to give him even just a moment of respite - and failing miserably. 

What he felt now went beyond desire, feelings or arousal; his own body was revolting against him, devouring him from the inside. Mihawk had never felt so helpless, so aware of his own frailty and mortality, frustrated by his own inability to save himself… and by the burning awareness that the only person who could help him was peacefully sleeping three corridors from him, just a call away and at the same time more unreachable than if they had been on different planets.

He had to make use of the water basin two more times. In the end, disgusted by the horrible taste in his mouth, not to mention the fact that he was covered in sweat from head to toe, he dragged himself to the bathroom to clean himself; a long shower made him feel marginally better, but it didn’t help cooling down his spirits, no matter how cold he turned the water on.

A new day had dawned out of his window; Mihawk fatalistically wondered if he’d be still alive to see the end of it. He was hard again, all the little remaining energies of his body concentrated on the stubborn erection rising as if to mock him; lying on his back, Mihawk was wondering whether it was worth rubbing it or he might as well leave it, since it would return soon in any case, when suddenly

Toc toc. “Mihawk?”

he heard. 

He freezed.

The knocking on the door occurred again a moment later. “Mihawk, it is (name). I’m… I’m sorry to disturb you, but you missed dinner, and the servants who came to get you for breakfast said you didn’t answer.” the woman explained from the other side of the door. Lost in his personal hell of pain and desire, Mihawk had not heard anyone knock or call for him; on the other hand, he really hoped the servants had not heard the sounds he had uttered in the last twelve hours…

“Are you alright? It’s fine if you want to sleep in, of course, but… I just want to make sure you don’t need help…”

She was worried for him. The thought warmed Mihawk’s heart, but at the same time it made it even more difficult to resist simply running to the door to take her into his arms. He wouldn’t impose his attentions on her in any way -he would rather carve his heart out with the Kogatana to present it to (name) by way of apology- but to know she was right there, no more than three paces away, was a temptation no man could resist.

(name). Beautiful (name). Warm, tight (name). Come here, let me hold you, let me kiss you, let me open your legs and make you scream my name…

“Are you unwell? Do you need a doctor?” the woman insisted, having received no answer “Mihawk, can you…?”

“No! No doctors.” he barked suddenly, immediately ashamed of the tone he had used.

“Well, at least I know you’re awake. What are you doing? It’s not like you to dawdle. You have already skipped two meals. Are you not hungry?”

He was; just not for food. “I’m alright.” he answered in the end, a bald-faced lie if he had ever heard one; he had propped himself on an elbow, looking at the room’s closed door and wishing he could see, even just catch a glimpse of, the woman on the other side of it. He knew that would be enough to make him feel better, no matter how ridiculous and pathetic it made him feel “I simply… slept very poorly last night. I just need to rest for a while, if you don’t mind.” 

Silence.

“Mihawk?”

“... yes?”

“Are you lying to me?”

Silence again; the swordsman could feel his cheeks burn with something different from the fever that was ravaging him. “I’m sorry.” he murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear. 

“You don’t have to apologise. I am not your mother, you don’t owe me anything - not even sincerity; but I can hear you’re unwell, and I worry for you.” (name) confessed; the open concern in her voice was genuine, and while he had known for years the woman cared for him, hearing it filled Mihawk’s heart with a tenderness he had forgotten he could feel “Is there anything I can do to help? Even just calling someone else; if it’s… something you’d rather discuss with a man…”

He smiled to himself. “I don’t have gonorrhoea, (name). And it’s not contagious, so you don’t need to worry.”

“I’m very glad to hear it. Listen, I promise I will not judge you, not now and not ever. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

The swordsman sighed; he had always prided himself on his stubbornness and willpower, but Shanks was right, this was not how he wanted to die, and irrespective of her feelings for him (name) would help him, he was sure of it.

He forced himself to stand once again. Completely naked, he walked to the door and opened just the minimum necessary to be able to talk to her in a whisper, since that was a conversation they absolutely had to keep private. He forced himself not to look through the gap; his self-control was hanging by a thread, and who knew what would have happened if he only caught sight of her?

“I need you to listen very carefully.” he started “The reason I’m sick… has to do with the flower your cousin gifted you.

“What?!”

“It’s true. It’s not a poisonous plant, but it’s extremely dangerous. Where is it now?”

“Well…” (name) hesitated “I have put it on my balcony; you know, for the light.”

“And it didn’t…” he suddenly couldn’t remember the words to describe what the flower had done to him; Mihawk liked to think he was better-spoken than the average man, but the pain prevented him from thinking clearly “The thing with its pollen; did it do it again?”

“It didn’t; probably because I was careful not to touch it. Is this how you…?”

“It is. (name), it is extremely important that no one approaches that flower; it is possible that it can only… erupt its pollen once, but we can’t risk it. Please, make sure no one touches it.”

“I will.” she immediately answered, clearly willing to trust him even though she couldn’t begin to comprehend the reason; Mihawk, who knew how self-assured she was, and how difficult it was to convince the woman of something she didn’t fully agree with, loved her for that - as well as all the rest.

“Thank you. Second: do you have a doctor at the fortress? Or at least books on medicinal plants in your library?”

“Both things.”

“Good. The name of that flower is Lily of Twilight; I need you to learn all you can on it, especially if you can find a book with a green cover, perhaps your doctor has it. Read it, and… everything will be clear.”

Mihawk bit his lip, clinging to the door jamb. “Before you read, or hear it…” he started, his gaze fixed on the small gap between the door and the wall; if he slipped his hand through it, he thought, he could touch her, feel the softness of her skin under his palm “Know this; I would never, ever hurt you, (name). Whatever the price; I would rather die.”

He heard her flinch. “Mihawk, you are scaring me.” 

“There is no need.” he promised; another lie “Please, do as I told you; it is very important.”

“I promise.” she whispered; suddenly her hand appeared through the gap, her fingers closed around the door jamb. Mihawk would have given half of his blood even just to place a kiss on the back; but everything he allowed himself to do was covering it with his own hand, only for a moment, the chaste contact filling his heart with tenderness.

“Make it quick.”

“I will. You hang on, you hear me?” she insisted “I won’t abandon you.”

Mihawk was sure of it; he let her hand go, and a moment later he had closed the door, the sound of (name)’s hasty pace receding.

Now all he had to do was wait, and Mihawk waited, sitting on the floor -both because he didn’t trust his legs to carry back and forth once more, and because he was tired of lying of that bed, no matter how comfortable it felt- idly caressing his erection and staring at the door.

In the end he fainted - he didn’t fall asleep, he actually lost consciousness, and when (name) returned, almost half an hour later, only her vigorous knocking on the door was able to wake him up. 

“Mihawk? Mihawk! Please, answer! Don’t tell me you’re…”

“I’m here.” he rushed to answer; the last thing he wanted was for the woman to enter to help and find him sprawled on the floor, his ass in the air. The cramps had started once more, hurting so much he couldn’t even sit straight, and when he tried to reach for the door to open it a crack, he found that the muscles of his arm had stopped responding “Did you… find it?”

This time the woman hesitated for a moment before answering. “Yes. Our doctor was with a patient, but in the meantime I found a book similar to the one you mentioned, and he confirmed the informations I read about the Lily of Twilight. I didn’t tell him you were the one affected, I thought you’d rather keep it private.”

Thank the Gods for small mercies. “Thank you.” he murmured; then “What… what do you think?”

“That the flower’s name itself is a deception; lilies don’t look like that.”

Mihawk grinned. “You’re not alone in that view.” 

“Is… is it bad?”

“You mean the physical pain or the other thing?”

“I…”

“Either way it is very bad. I-I usually endure pain better than the common man, but I’ve never felt like this.” he explained; admitting his weakness, no matter how objectively excruciating, would have normally shamed him, but with (name) it was different - she was different, and the swordsman was all too aware of it, his erection throbbing painfully between his legs “I feel like I’m dying. No, it’s worse than dying, because I have no clue how long it will last.”

Through the door, Mihawk heard (name) grunt - an unladylike sound, proper of a person who acknowledged the problem at hand and prepared to tackle it using every resource at her disposal. “All right, let’s see what we can do.” she started matter-of-factly “My doctor said that it could take several days for this sickness to kill you, but I’d rather solve it as soon as possible, given the fact it may also hurt you at the psychological level. I… don’t know if I ever told you, but there is a brothel here on the island; I could… send for one of the women to come here… or two…”

Silence.

“I can have my doctor visit them, to make sure they are clean; and… you could tell me what sort of woman you’d rather have…”

One with your height and build. And your colour of hair and eyes. And your face. And your name. The thought had filled Mihawk’s head and heart with such intensity, for a moment the swordsman actually thought he had uttered the words out loud; he had perceived the hesitation in (name)’s voice, and while that might very well have been due to the need to act as a procuress for his friends’ sexual needs, there was another possible explanation, one Mihawk couldn’t avoid focusing on no matter how slight the chance it was true…

“Mihawk? Are you still there?”

“I am, forgive me.” he rushed to answer; to his profound dismay, he had suddenly realised he had started pumping his shaft more and more enthusiastically while he spoke to the woman behind the door - and she spoke to him. The Gods have mercy on him, simply hearing her voice made him horny! “Any woman who can be here quickly, and is clean, will do. Thank you.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have… preferences?”

“(name), I really don’t want to sound vulgar, but given the state I am in a woman's hair colour or her particular talents have no importance whatsoever. I only need to… accomplish an act; it doesn’t have to mean anything - and it won’t, since you…”

He bit his tongue.

Shit.

“Since I…?” (name) wondered; she sounded perplexed, and almost wary… as if afraid to discover what those words actually meant “What do I have to do with it?”

All. All of it has to do with you.

“Nothing.” he answered reluctantly; despite the great strength he had trained his arms to apply, he discovered the right one -specifically, his wrist- had started hurting “(name), I am so sorry… I would have never wanted to involve you in such a squalid matter…”

“Are you kidding?! Mihawk, you could die; you are my friend, a guest in my house, and I couldn’t protect you. I should be the one begging for your forgiveness.”

He wouldn’t have minded to see her begging - but for something else. Mihawk sighed, summoning the little self-control he had left. “How could you expect a simple flower to pose such a danger? I didn’t.” he pointed out “I am more concerned that your own cousin gave it to you.”

(name) admitted she found the matter more than a little disturbing; she had had Theon locked in his room, to make sure he couldn’t run away or harm someone else.

“Good thinking, my lady.”

“Thank you. Now, why did you say I had something to do with the sort of woman you could sleep with?” (name) inquired, and Mihawk sighed; he should have expected a relentless, capable killer-for-hire like her would not simply forget, or let go, a doubt she wanted to find an answer for. What could he tell her? That whoever he fucked, no matter how attractive and uninhibited and expert in the arts of love, he would see her face instead than theirs? That he would think of her, call her name, and undoubtedly find the intercourse unsatisfying because it wasn’t her in his arms?

“Mihawk.”

Very simply; he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell her. Mihawk had never allowed anyone and anything to stop him from saying what he thought, but right now he felt unable to utter the few words that might change his life forever - or maybe not. He would never know unless he tried, but he couldn’t risk disappointment and awkwardness to ruin…

“Mihawk, please; tell me the truth.”

It had been little more than a whisper, but he had heard it just fine, not least because the door was now ajar once more; Mihawk lifted his free hand to close it, but an equally determined force from the outside prevented him.

“Close the door, (name).”

“Not before you explain yourself.”

“Close this door, woman. You don’t understand, I… I might not be able to control myself…”

“I am not afraid of you.”

“You should be, at least now.”

“Well, I’m not.” she argued “You would never hurt me; you said so yourself.”

A rustling vibrated through the gap of the door; a moment later, when Mihawk saw her lovely eyes staring at him, he realised the sound had belonged to the fabric of her skirts as (name) squatted in order to look at him face to face. Almost unconsciously, making sure the woman couldn’t see the lower half of his body, Mihawk knelt on the floor and leaned forward; their gazes met, two mirror images separated by the apparent barrier of the door. Gods, she was so lovely, the swordsman thought; more perfect and radiant than he could describe in words, and so worried for him. Mihawk felt ashamed for having alarmed her, but at the same time he couldn’t deny being flattered…  

“Mihawk, please.” (name) murmured; the sound of her voice to his ears was as delicate and intimate as the caress of a lover “You can trust me; tell me…”

“I love you.”

The simple utterance of those words were enough to make him feel marginally better, a moment of fresh air after a lifetime spent breathing poison; perhaps for this reason, he hadn’t exactly intended to say it, rather it had been his body and his mind pushing the declaration beyond his lips, as a defence mechanism against the openly suicidal tendenses of their owner. While embarrassed, Mihawk found he didn’t mind it - and now that the floodgate had been opened, stopping himself was almost impossible.

(name) gaped; she was usually known for having the gift of the gab, one of the many things Mihawk found endearing about her, but at the moment she seemed unable to speak at all.

“...w-what?” she stammered in the end; flabbergasted as she was, Mihawk couldn’t exactly decipher if she was upset, happy, or simply embarrassed by his declaration “What did you say?”

His pelvis was pulsating, his swollen erection begging to be stimulated and then made come; for the first time, the swordsman found he could ignore it, or at least speak clearly despite it “You have heard me.”

“Mihawk, I…”

“I am not asking you to reciprocate; I just want you to know what I feel. I am in love with you, (name); I have trusted and cared for you for so long, but for a while… for a while I have felt something that goes beyond simple friendship. You… you are so beautiful, and clever, and strong, and kind; you are everything I would look for in a partner and much more. Rarely in my life I have considered people my equal, but with you… with you is more than that; when we are together, I can feel my spirit resonating with yours, as if I was talking to another part of myself, or something that matched and compensated me. I am attracted to you, yes; any person would have to be crazy not to want you, and thinking about kissing you is enough to make me tremble with desire. But I want more; even more than your body, I want your heart. I want to be your lover, your confidante, your partner, and one day, if you want, your husband; I want us to share everything, and no other man to exist for you, because no other woman could ever exist for me.”

Mihawk stopped to swallow; he couldn’t remember the last time he had drunk a sip of water, but what made him unable to go on for a moment wasn’t a dry mouth; it was emotion.

“This is why I don’t want you to send me a prostitute, or any other woman. Because there is no woman I could ever want to sleep with, not even now that my life is on the line and my body has been screaming for it for the last twelve hours; the only woman I want is you. If you don’t share my feelings I will accept it, and I don’t want you to do it only because otherwise I could be dead by today’s afternoon. If you do this because you want me like I want you it’d be a dream, a heaven beyond any imagination; but what I want most of all is for you to know the truth.”

Silence fell, both in the room and in the corridor outside; Mihawk licked his lips, relieved he had come clean and at the same time physically trembling as he waited for (name)’s reaction. From his position he could no longer see her through the gap of the door; he could have moved to peek, but he decided to wait.

And wait he did, for what felt like hours. Finally he felt the woman’s skirts rustle again as she stood. “I’m going to send someone to the whorehouse.”

“(name)...”

“I’ll ask for the best they have; you may not like her, but I beg you, Mihawk, do what you have to, because I won’t have you die under my roof if I can avoid it.” 

“(name…)!”

“I’m sorry, but in the situation you are in you can’t afford to be picky. In the meantime I’m gonna use my cousin as a target for my shooting practice…”

“(name), listen to me…”

He heard her step away from the door. “I’ll be as quick as I can. Maybe, err, I should ask for two women to come, in case you…”

“(NAME)!!” Mihawk roared; what little patience he had left finally evaporated “Stop talking and come back here, woman!”

He would have expected her to point out he had absolutely no right to order her around, especially in her house, but (name) remained silent; she returned to the door, lowering herself once more to meet Mihawk’s gaze through the gap.

“Well? You have nothing to tell me?”

“You screamed at me to shut my mouth a moment ago.” she pointed out “Which I didn’t like at all, by the way.”

Mihawk admitted -out loud- that he shouldn’t have done it, and he was sorry. “I appreciate your concern for my well-being, but I… expected you to say something.” he added in a murmur; he had reached a peculiar state, beyond affliction, beyond arousal, as if his mind had detached itself from his body as protection from the pain that made his flesh, his skin, his very soul scream in agony “About what I told you.”

(name) sighed tiredly. “What do you want me to say?”

“What you think. What you feel. Nothing more, nothing less; we’ve always been honest with each other, and I’d like you to be sincere today as well. I… I don’t expect you to share my feelings, but I thought at least I’d deserve an answer…”

(name) sobbed; it was sudden, brief, but loud enough for him to hear it beyond any doubt. That little sound caught him off guard; in all the long years of their acquaintance he had never seen his friend cry, and the last thing he wanted was for her to do it because of him.

“(name), what…?”

She shook her head, a joyless smile on her lovely lips. “If only I could tell you what I feel.��� she murmured in the end, as if talking more to herself than to him “If only I could tell you how dear you are to me, and what your friendship has meant for me in all these years. Mihawk, as clever and perceptive as you are, how could you have not realised what I feel? That no man could ever compare to you in my heart? That no matter how much I appreciate your company, the only reason why I invited you here on my island has been for the two of us to be alone, and maybe find the right occasion to confess how crazy I am about you?”

Dumbfounded, Mihawk stared at her through the gap; he slowly lifted his hand to close it around the doorjamb, and (name) covered it with hers, just for a moment, before pulling away. “I know what you’re thinking.” she murmured; heartbreak was in her eyes “But I can’t do it, Mihawk.”

“I understand.” he murmured softly; his agony seemed to have given him a moment of respite, or maybe it was him that, elated, couldn’t feel it.

How dear you are to me. No man could ever compare to you in my heart. How crazy I am about you. This was what she had said, and had not uttered that word, of course, perhaps because she didn’t feel comfortable doing so, for any reason, but that was enough, that declaration was a treasure superior to any Mihawk had taken from the countless pirate crews that had had the misfortune of finding themselves on his path, more than he had realistically hoped for.

In that moment, Mihawk swore he would live, whatever the price. For himself, and for her, and for the future they could build together. 

“It’s alright.” he murmured softly; there was nothing he wouldn’t have given just to feel her hand on his again, that simple, chaste contact sufficient to make his heart flutter “I can wait. We can wait. If you don’t feel comfortable right now, I understand… I want to court you, you deserve it… you deserve better than a quick romp, especially given the state I am in…”

(name) laughed; it wasn’t a pleasant sound, filled with more despair than amusement. 

“It’s not that.” she admitted “I wouldn’t mind to… come in, and help you; a quick romp sounds perfect, to be honest, especially if it were just the beginning of… well, something more lasting. But I can’t, Mihawk; I can’t, because this is not you talking.”

Again, the swordsman was speechless; he moaned as a sudden, violent stab in his stomach passed through him, and for a moment he was sure he would pass out, losing consciousness on the floor like a drunkard who hadn’t reached his bed in time.

“Oh, Gods, I should hurry…”

“What did you mean?” he forced himself to say, quickly before (name) had time to leave “What in the world does it mean, that it is not me talking? I am talking!”

“Are you? Or is it just the effect of the pollen speaking through you? I can’t be sure, Mihawk, and because of this I can’t come to you.” (name) explained, sounding miserable “if it were anyone else…someone I cared for and trusted and I wanted to help… I would do it, even if it meant our friendship could never recover. But with you… if I let myself give in, and discover what it actually feels like to be your woman, to know the warmth of your body like I have longed to for so long… and then I discovered what you said wasn’t true…”

“It is! (name), I am in love with you!”

“... and you only let yourself be carried away, simply preferring a woman you actually knew to one you should have paid for, and the impulses of the sickness you’re suffering from had done the rest? You will die soon if you don’t do it, and perhaps your survival instinct is making you say things to convince me to help you. I won’t berate you for it; but I can’t do it. Mihawk, forgive me, I can’t; I can’t risk it. Let me find you someone appropriate, and once you’re safe, once you’re in control of yourself again… then, if what you said is true, we can talk about it.”

She wasn’t asking for much, Mihawk had to admit, and her reasoning was more than reasonable. The last thing he wanted was for (name) to feel uncomfortable in his company, or to come to him only because the alternative was to see him die. He could use the women of the local brothel to satisfy his urges and make sure the lack of sex didn’t kill him, and then, maybe as soon as tomorrow, he would take a bath, make himself presentable, and confirm his declaration of feelings, and of intent; and then, nothing and no one would stop him and the woman he loved from being together, and enjoying their intimacy. 

A day; this is what she was asking, and he was willing to give it to her, especially if it meant spending the decades beyond it together. Unless…

“Mihawk?”

“What if someone could attest my feelings for you already existed before that blasted flower poisoned me?” he whispered; he had started sweating again, which was probably why his mouth felt drier than a desert. Or maybe not. “And that I also hoped to take advantage of our time here alone, to confess what I felt?”

(name) didn’t answer; she was biting her lip -Gods, if only he could- her lovely face a picture of uncertainty, but Mihawk couldn’t mistake the emotion filling her eyes.

Hope.

The swordsman reached behind him to take his Den Den Mushi from the bedside table. “Call Shanks; he knows everything. Ask him. I… have told him about you, many times. Ask him what I said; he’s an honourable man, he’ll tell you the truth, no more and no less. Then you will decide what to do.” 

Neither spoke as the Den Den Mushi passed from his hands to hers; she smiled shyly, like the sun after a violent storm, and stood. “I’ll be back soon.” she promised.

“I can wait.” he assured her, and smiled “As long as I need; you are worth it, (name).” 

They parted, and Mihawk forced his legs to carry him to the bathroom; even if (name) decided she was more comfortable waiting for him not to be victim of a poison that could kill him if he didn’t have sex soon, he didn’t want her to see him looking, and smelling, as a swamp rat after a hurricane.

Fifteen minutes later he was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing a comfortable pair of black trousers, his still damp hair and naked torso drying at the sunlight filtering through the window; he was forcing himself to breathe normally, given the fact that, after he had emptied his stomach once more -even though he had nothing else to release; he had brushed his teeth furiously, not wanting his first kiss with (name) to be ruined by the taste, but he still felt horrible- a moment before stepping in the shower, his lungs had started feeling abnormally constricted, as if they were trying to pump something more dense than air… or as if they could no longer work properly. Dying of asphyxiation in a perfectly airy room was a doom the swordsman preferred to avoid, but the choice had been taken out of his hands; in line with the sickness invading his body, his mind also felt foggy, memories and thoughts overlapping and blending until he could no longer make sense of them. His hard cock hurt in his pants, but not in the way it had done until then… his body was no longer simply begging for relief, it was expressing a level of discomfort and exertion that could actually destroy it, desperately screaming for help against an enemy that was about to devour it from the inside. 

For once all of his power, all of his strength, was useless; Mihawk’s life was literally hanging by a threat, and he could do nothing to improve his chances of survival, even infinitesimally.

It was unpleasant; it was frustrating, and even scary, but the swordsman had made peace with the nightmare his life had turned into. He didn’t like having to ask for help, he never had, but he was glad it was (name); whatever she decided, she would not disappoint him.

Mihawk was sure of it.

He suddenly started coughing, long and hard enough to leave him breathless; when he looked at the hand he had instinctively raised to his mouth, he saw drops of blood dotting his palm. This wasn’t good, one didn’t need to be a doctor to know; Mihawk gritted his teeth, cleaned his hand on the sheet he had taken off the bed, and hid it under it. He had already emptied the water basin in the bathroom, but he didn’t want (name) to see what he had done on that precious linen; at least the mattress pad was clean.

Twenty minutes, according to the clock on the wall. Mihawk forced himself to remain calm, but he couldn’t deny it: he knew he was running out of time, and when he finally heard knocking on the door, his heart leaped in his throat.

“”It’s (name). May I come in?”

“Of course.”

 The woman entered silently, closing the door behind her; he looked at Mihawk, composedly sitting on the bed, and without breaking eye contact she reached behind her to turn the key in its hole, locking the door.

Mihawk knew she could see him struggle to swallow.

(name) deposed the Den Den Mushi on a nearby shelf, as if fearing it could be damaged by whatever would occur on the bed from then on. “I spoke to Shanks.” she explained “It was a little odd to discuss such personal matters with a man I had never even met, but he was more than willing to help. He is very fond of you; and he was also very, very worried.”

It wasn’t a question, so Mihawk avoided answering; he couldn’t breathe, again, but this time the sickness had nothing to do with it. Finally, (name) walked to him; she rested a hand on his shoulder, as if to stop him from standing, and the other on his cheek, her fingertips gently caressing his skin. She was smiling, flattery and joy dancing in her eyes, and Mihawk felt himself resting his face against her palm; that simple touch was enough to make him feel better, the pain ravaging him melting at the tenderness of their contact.

“As you imagined, he had many things to tell me. Including… that you have a picture of me on your ship.”

He did; he had cut it from a newspaper page, part of an article that discussed a particularly impressive bounty the woman had just retrieved, and then framed to keep it in his cabin. Mihawk had always made sure to hide it on the few times (name) had come aboard the Hitstugibune, but Shanks had seen it once. Is this your friend, the mercenary lady you told me so much about? She is very pretty; are you going to introduce her to me?… and why, pray tell, are you blushing?

Mihawk closed his eyes. Thank all the Gods, at least Shanks had no way of knowing, and as a consequence of telling (name), what he had used that picture for, a month before, on a particularly torrid night, when he had dreamt of her, kneeling in front of him with adoring eyes and an already open wide mouth; he had climaxed so hard it had hurt, screaming his pleasure in the silent, empty immensity of the Sea. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? I have one of you in my room as well; it’s a copy of the one the Marines have in their dossier on you, I might have corrupted a young recruit to have it.”

(name) smiled. “I have never felt so happy.” she confessed; one of her hands had moved from his shoulder to his hair, gently petting them. Mihawk lifted his gaze to her, relishing in that simple, innocent contact. He forced himself to swallow.

“May I hold you?”

A moment later (name) was in his arms, her fingers still caressing his hair as Mihawk rested his cheek against the softness of her chest; there was so much more he wanted from her, to take from and to give to and to experience together, but for a long, precious moment this was enough, this was perfect, and he could remain like this…

“Mihawk.”

… forever…

“Mihawk, I love you.” (name) murmured above him; when the swordsman raised his gaze to meet hers, the woman smiled, shy and almost embarrassed “I wanted to tell you before we… well, get into it. I don’t want you to doubt I know what I’m saying, like I shouldn’t have doubted you did.”

Silence.

“Mihawk? I’m warning you, if you retract your words now it will be more than a little embarrassing for both…”

He stood slowly, gently breaking the embrace to take her face in his hands; a moment before his lips touched her forehead, Mihawk saw (name) close her eyes, as if to relish the pleasure of his touch. 

“You make me the happiest man in the world.” he said; he wasn’t smiling, but the conviction and certitude in his voice were almost tangible “And the happiest I have ever been, truly. Whatever happens, tomorrow or in a decade, I know my life right now is perfect.”

(name) smiled; the adoration in her eyes was almost vertiginous. “As is mine.” she murmured “Especially if you were to kiss me, that is.”

“As my lady commands…”

He had imagined -dreamt, even- her lips to be warm, the searing hotness of a fire that would soon consummate both, but they weren’t; (name)’s kiss was cool, soft and fresh, as invigorating as a glass of spring water, and Mihawk, who had never been so thirsty in his life, drank it avidly, tasting the delicious sweetness of her mouth, a promise of what was to come and a treasure in its own right, the certitude that his feelings were reciprocated and (name) wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He would never learn to be without her; and that was scary, and at the same time simple, because he did not plan to ever let her go.

That first kiss lasted long enough to leave them both trembling; Mihawk could feel (name) smile into it, and when she gently used her tongue to part his lips and deepen the kiss, the swordsman heard himself moan, a sound so lewd it could have made him blush.

The woman he was now holding by the waist, on the other hand, seemed to appreciate it.

“What lovely sounds you make.” she murmured, a touch of mischievousness in her voice.

Mihawk grinned. “In a moment you’ll be the one singing for me, my lady.” he promised, and for a few minutes neither spoke again, too busy as they were exploring each other's mouths. Mihawk finally broke the kiss to let his lips descend on (name)’s throat.

“Do you own a dress that covers your neck completely?” he wondered idly; his hands, having happily explored her lovely curves for a while, had settled just under the small of her back, unashamedly exploring the softness of her buttocks.

“I…” she swallowed “I don’t… at least not for this season…”

“Then you should prepare yourself to have the whole island gossip about you.”

“Oh, Gods, Mihawk…”

He made sure to suck on the side of her neck long and hard enough to leave a bruise, (name)’s panting and whining filling his ears; the woman, well-known for her self-restraint and the ability to keep her emotions in check so that no one could perceive what she was thinking, was pressing herself to him, desperately searching for whatever friction could help relieve the need between her legs. They had barely started touching each other and she was already wet for him, Mihawk thought with a surge of affection; he might enjoy teasing her, making her wait just like he had craved her in the last twelve hours, but soon they would find their pleasure in each other.

“I can’t speak for the next ten years.” (name) murmured after a while; she was still caressing his back, her delicate hands leaving a trail of fire behind them on his skin “But I think I know what will happen tomorrow; specifically, what you will be doing.”

“And that is?”

“You’ll still be here; making love to me. I don’t know exactly how long it will take for you to be healed from the flower’s poison, but I don’t intend to let you go any soon. I want you so much.”

Mihawk smiled; he stopped kissing her neck to look at her, seeing her chest rising and falling with her breathing. “And you’ll have me.” he murmured, brushing the pad of his thumb against her lip “As long as we both want it, and hard enough I’ll make you scream. It’s a promise.”

(name) laughed as she circled his neck with her arms; she pressed her hips against his, and her smile was almost wolfish as she slowly rolled them, deliberately feeling the pressure of Mihawk’s erection against her core. “I have always wondered how big you are.” she confessed “It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t help it; and I may have wondered how it would feel to have you inside me.”

Mihawk smiled; it was amazing, even exhilarating, how she was still able to surprise him, after so many years since their first meeting. “Allow me to demonstrate, then.” he said, and he lowered himself on the bed, pulling (name) on his lap; she laughed, immediately opening her knees to sit more comfortably, her legs now caging his. She started rocking back and forth, Mihawk’s hands on her hips firmly keeping her in place; the friction between their bodies was delicious but frustrating, a few inches of fabric preventing him to taking her, there and then, but the swordsman didn’t mind too much; he could wait a few more minutes, since they had all the time in the world in front of them.

“May I help you with your dress, my darling?” he inquired, and a new smile blossomed on (name)’s lips.

“If it pleases you...” 

The dress she was wearing was relatively simple, since no public duties were scheduled for the lady on that morning, the bodice held closed by a single bow on her chest; Mihawk used the tip of his fingers to untie it, and (name) wordlessly separated the two halves to make them slip off her shoulders.

For a long moment neither moved.

“Where is your bra, woman?”

“Don’t presume I took it off for you; but I put on a new one this morning, and it was uncomfortable. I thought no one would notice, since the dress is tight enough.” she explained, but there was a pleased look on her face, and the woman was all too aware of the effect her partial nudity was having on her lover “It’ll save you the effort to unclasp it, it took me ten minutes…”

Her breast was lovely, an image of sensuality and femininity no artist could ever reproduce on canvas or on stone, the perfect size for her build, soft and firm. Mihawk took his time to admire them before taking the soft mounds of flesh in his hands, and he used the pads of his thumbs to gently stimulate her erect nipples; he saw (name) sigh, pleasure filling her eyes. Her undulatory movement had quickened as the woman rubbed herself against him, desperately looking for a release she couldn’t reach. 

“Oh… I knew it…”

“What did you know, my beauty?”

“That it’d be good. That it’d feel good, you and me. I looked at you, when you held your sword, firmly but elegantly, and I knew you could be gentle as well as strong… and I wanted you to be both when you’d make love to me. I knew you would feel so good… oh… oh, yes…!”

She was writhing above him, her body almost squirming with pleasure and, at the sale time, the frustration of not having him where they both wanted him to be: inside her, pumping his cock in her pussy as if both of their lives depended on it.

“You’re so gorgeous.” he murmured. He was still in pain, his body and his mind begging for the salvation he would find between (name)’s legs, but at the same time he had never lived such a perfect, blissful moment; the swordsman was usually content -albeit a little bored- with his life, but for the first time he knew in that moment, he was exactly where he was meant to be: with (name), enjoying her presence and making her happy “So absolutely ravishing, my darling… let me taste you…”

(name)’s breathless moan was answer enough. Mihawk lifted her towards him and started kissing her breast, butterfly-light pecks on her tender skin, before closing his lips around her left nipple.

(name) screamed. Again, and again as he kept sucking her, relentless in the sweet torture he was gifting her; he found out she liked it -loudly- when he used his tongue on her, and he did, until the woman was almost crying as she bounced on his lap, filling the room with the sensual simphony of her moans. “Mihawk, please…”

“Please what?” he asked, without stopping; a moment later he felt her hands in his hair. 

“This is so sweet, but… I want more. Please, my darling, I want to help you as well…”

Well, the swordsman mused, how could he say no to that? He gently broke the embrace once more, and “Let me see you, my lady.” he murmured.

“As you wish.”

(name) stood, taking a single step back. She quickly freed herself of the soft slippers she wore when remaining at court, then she brought her hands to the small of her back, untying a second ribbon to open her dress; she looked at him, both delighted and expectant, as she pushed the waist of her skirt under her hips. The fabric slipped down her legs, as delicate as the caress of a lover as it brushed against her skin, until it pooled around her feet in a circle of velvet and silk. 

(name) smiled; she clearly enjoyed the way he was looking at her. “Shall I take this off as well?” she inquired, referring to the short underskirt that was all she was wearing at the moment - at least, that Mihawk could see; who knew, the swordsman mused, perhaps her underpants had felt uncomfortable as well that morning… 

He offered his hands to her. “No.” he murmured “Please, keep it on.”

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Dracule Mihawk #Mihawk #Dracule Mihawk x reader #Mihawk x reader #Steven John Ward #Bellona's stuff