Tumgik
#We'll see how long before I burn out again
femivi · 3 days
Text
୧ ‧₊˚ 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒒𝒖𝒚 ♡
“sprouting underneath the luxuriant divine tree is nice, but everyone does get homesick once in awhile.”
al haitham x gn ! reader ノ sfw — comfort ノ peek of kaveh bc i luv him ノ reader is leaving abroad >< ノ wrote this like a month ago and it still hits close to heart . . 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 0.7k wc
Tumblr media
the sweet taste of rose custard slowly melts on your tongue, offering a cooling sensation in the scorching, yet oddly familiar ember heat. the welcoming atmosphere of al haitham's home is warmer than ever, the faint aroma of various spices and roasted vegetables fill the living room.
your favourite fermented milky treat almost overflowing with alijenakh nuts and drizzled caramel now doesn't taste the same as it always does. the sweet yoghurt tasting of melancholy and bitterness makes it challenging for you to even pick up the smooth wooden spoon.
spoon not too heavy, not too small, just the perfect size for you to hold in your hand. spoon al haitham doesn't let anyone else use, since he knows it's your favourite. spoon that is now difficult to even hold with the amount of sorrow and silent grief it's clinging to, let alone bring it up close to your lips.
you're unwilling to admit this to yourself, but you'd miss the heat. (the heat you're always complaining about, the reason you wear a shawl on your shoulders so you don't get sunburnt.)
you'd miss the crystalline sand of the scarlet dunes. (the sand that always gets in your shoes, the burning sand that always sticks to your skin whenever you're out, the sand that dehya carefully washed out of your hair with zaytun shampoo that one time you got caught up in a minor sandstorm.)
you'd miss the familiar cuisine your taste buds are used to. (your favourite being the savoury tahchin, that only candace knows how to make it the way you like it. you'd miss tulumba, a guilty pleasure you often snack on while working late at night under the light of a burning oil lamp.)
while your thoughts are locked within your mind, you're taken aback by al haitham's reassuring touch on your shoulders. “you okay?” his soft baritone voice seems to soften your worries. you smile slightly as you swallow your uncertainties and just nod your head.
“yeah.. ‘m okay.. just a little nervous i suppose.” you bring your knees up to your chest. his soft hand gently caresses the top of your head.
tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words to convey the depth of your feelings. you reminisced about the cherished moments you two shared, from quiet walks along the shores of vimara village to cozy nights spent wrapped in each other's arms.
with a trembling voice, you poured out your fears and uncertainties about the distance that would soon come between you. you held onto him tightly, savoring the warmth of his embrace, knowing that soon it would only be a memory.
“we'll both be looking at the same night sky, seeing the same stars and constellations. sprouting underneath the luxuriant divine tree is nice, but everyone does get homesick once in awhile. and that's okay. we'll see each other again.” his smile feels like a guiding light, brighter than thousand candles. now you're a little more confident you'll be able to find the shimmer in the gloomiest and loneliest days in the city of waterfalls.
you exchange a few sheepish chuckles and reassuring words before kaveh brings out a copper pot in his hands, the aroma of a familiar dish hitting your nose long before it can be plated up.
kaveh's voice is full of eager compassion. “you thought we were going to say goodbye just like that?” teary eyed, a slight chuckle escaping your lips, you straighten your back to look at the delicious looking biryani in front you, plate full of rice and properly roasted vegetables.
al haitham places a single sugar sweet kiss on your temple. “i’ll miss you.” he gently fixes your hair behind your ear, getting a few joyous giggles out of you.
the evening is filled with bittersweet moments as you share a final dinner together at home. amidst the laughter and shared memories, there is an underlying current of melancholy as the reality of separation looms near.
however, the warmth of their presence provides a soothing balm to your anxious heart, reassuring you that even in the distance, your bond will remain unbreakable. with each passing moment, you finds solace in the knowledge that you carry al haitham's love and support, a beacon of comfort in the unknown journey that lies ahead.
69 notes · View notes
wolkoshka · 16 hours
Text
Paranormal II
Tumblr media
summary: after your injury in the birthday party, Ghost takes you home, takes care of your wound - and finally gives you a night you’ll never forget… Simon Riley/Ghost x Reader
warnings: slow-burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, mutual pining, excessive drunk flirting, slightly dark!Simon, touch-starved Simon, trying to get into Simon’s pants (and sort of succeeding??), nsfw-themed
•this is a simon riley ficlet, I repeat, this is not a one-shot but contains a bit of plot and character development, bcs god knows we need 'em
•part 2/3
an: here is part ii, and yes, yes, I know! It’s long overdue. You’re gonna have to forgive a girlie and her lack of awareness to the passage of time.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"I said go get him, not split yer head open. Ooch, lassie, look at ye bruising up. That's an ugly one."
Johnny hassled over you, thumbing your temples as he examined your wound.
Ghost had temporarily dropped you at the bar to go hunting for a med kit. When your gaze had arrayed the room, your best friend had caught your eye, smirking - only to then gasp and push his way to you.
"So what happened?"
"Mating dance," you retorted dryly.
You pressed the glove back to the wound when Johnny released you, leaning against the counter in a snort.
"Did he fall for it?"
"Hardly." Your shoulders slumped defeatedly. "I don't think he likes me very much, Johnny."
"That's Lt for ye, lass. Guy wears a skull for a face. Says he sleeps soundly in it. Shudders, I tell ye. You'd think that'd make ye think twice before approaching him, eh?"
"I think my brain short-circuited precisely for those reasons. I think maybe this hit to the head will remedy that. God knows I need to get him out of my system. A full-on purge. Like those, uh, uh, really intense only-water-for-dinner kind of diets."
"It's hard to get someone ye don't know out of yer mind."
"Exactly! Jokes aside, this is insane even by drunk me standards. Never thought I'd have a crush at this age, but, whelp, here goes nothing! Will get him out of my mind as soon as I stop gawking at those muscles, okay?"
Your friend chuckled.
Over Soap's shoulder, you caught sight of Ghost's form paving way to you, broad shoulders squared, back straight and gait commanding. And yet, there was an almost endearing swagger to his stride, subtle as it was, and it only added to the unmistakable confidence simmering underneath that quiet outfit.
Suddenly, you were air-headed. In the manner people jumped out of his path like he was the most lethal being they'd ever beheld had you seeing rainbows and hearing angelic hymns.
A stupid girl with her big, stupid crush. When was the last time you got one, anyway? High school, that's when. And you felt like a silly schoolgirl again, all those eighth grade magazines on how to talk to boys and attract your crush flooding back.
You wondered what three-way advice they would spell out for someone like Ghost.
Bathe in the blood of his enemies. A sexy look can go a long way!
Rip out the heart of his enemy and gift it to him. All men enjoy a sincere show of affection every now and then!
Take a bullet for him. Take several! Nothing says I have the hots for you like bleeding out in the arms of your crush!
When his eyes found yours, uncompromising and intense even from such distance, the choir increased until you felt like your chest might implode.
"Never mind," you dreamily sighed. This particular crush wasn't leaving anytime soon.
"Johnny," Ghost voiced, coming around the man. To you, he crooked a finger. "They got band-aids, but I need to stitch you up. We'll resolve the matter in your place."
Your head perked. "We will?"
Was your night actually going to end with Ghost in your apartment? Maybe even bed?
You looked at Johnny, Johnny looked at you - and you both raised your eyebrows in a knowing look.
"What the bloody hell you two peepin' at each other for?" Ghost growled.
"Peepin'? What's peepin'?" Johnny.
"We're not peepin'." You.
Eager, you hopped down - and immediately regretted it when your vision swayed. Whoops... You clutched your head tighter.
"Easy there," Johnny voiced, hands supporting your shoulders.
Once you righted, you looked up at Ghost. Expectant. Would he carry you?
You kind of, sort of, definitely desired his arms around you again.
As if seeing right through your needs, the muscle below his eye twitched. He set a challenge with his gaze, forcing you to admit defeat and walk a soldier's walk.
You faintly winced. Shrugged. "Owh, my poor head. I feel...dizzy. So dizzy. Don't know...might even trip in the rain. Get a concussion..." Another meek yet daring shrug. "So inconvenient, no?"
"Maybe ye need to go the hospital, lass - Umpf!"
You shut Johnny up with a backward punch to the groin, attention never wavering from Ghost.
There was a soft inquisitive sound, an arch of your brow, before he conceded with a weary blink of his eyes. You had to love the way his lashes fanned every time he did that. Long, thick, and softly curled, they might just make a girl jealous.
Internally, you performed a victory dance. Externally, you outstretched an arm.
His killer biceps bulged around your frame, tugging you close, as he lifted you off your feet. When you corded your arm around his neck and nestled your face on his pec, lashes batting up at him, Ghost looked like he was near to dropping you on your arse and dragging you by your heels instead.
"Don't get used to it, poppy," he grated low.
You wore a look of mock-surprise. "Never."
Gaze too slow to leave your face he spoke to Johnny next, "I'll meet you at the base." He strode past, strong legs falling into pace. "Don't be late. And for fuck's sake, Johnny, get some rest."
Johnny grinned, the act slightly laced with pain due to your earlier assault. "Ye got it, Lt." To you, he gave you a proud thumb's up.
Over Ghost's shoulder, you blew him a kiss and mouthed happy birthday, and I love you big time, you sucker.
When the bar door closed behind you, you pointed out to Simon that he'd forgotten your umbrella and proton pack.
For the umbrella, he said the rain might help sober you up. As for your proton pack, he didn't even bother providing an answer as he took down the street, all pleased with himself as rain mercilessly pelted your face.
When lightning crackled and thunder roared overhead, you thought you felt his arms slightly draw you closer, a bit nearer, but dismissed it, blaming it instead on your active imagination and stupor.
.
What the bloody hell was he doing, Ghost questioned, standing in your open kitchen and preparing tea for two.
Steam curdled up, obscuring his masked face as he poured green tea into two cups. Clasping the handles, he turned from the counter to place them on the marbled island.
Your abode was a spacious loft with four large windows peering out into the bustling city, the London Eye and the River Thames a distant view, with a ceiling that rose six meters high.
Before him was a sitting area with a comfortable couch, plush armchairs and a TV stand. Fully-stacked bookshelves flanked either side while pots of myriad flowers and wild ferns decorated the space.
A dining table perched to his left, a family photo and Mesopotamian antiques lining the dark cherry wood surface in display. He spotted Johnny in the frame, younger than he's ever seen him, dimples deep in a cheery smile, and he spotted you, hanging onto his shoulders with an eye-crinkling laugh of your own, also young and exuding innocence.
To his far right was your bed, propped against the wall and neatly made, accompanied by nightstands and a reading lamp. To its left was the entrance, separated by a narrow wall of stained glass depicting two mermaids frolicking about. By that, he clearly meant the large cock sprouting from the merman's groin and gripped by the mermaid's slender fingers, their tails entwining as deeply as their tongues, their bodies writhing in unabashed pleasure. It was beautiful, no doubt, made to come alive in colors coral blue, golden, and violet, but Ghost also knew it was custom made.
Anyone would've missed the unorthodox tableau at first glance, but he wasn't anyone.
You had wild fantasies, it appeared, and he wanted to bash his skull in for taking interest in that.
Just like he wanted to bash the mug of green tea in his hand because he couldn't will his feet to walk away.
Granted, you'd asked he stay, at least for a little while, to thank him for taking care of your wound, and sprinting to your bathroom thereafter for a quick shower.
It's been ten minutes now, and Ghost should've been long gone. He couldn't be here. He didn't do one-night stands. He had a number for that, a special visitor, that took care of his needs without him ever needing to undress. Left just as wordlessly when the deed was done. No unnecessary pillow talks, goodbye notes, or call me laters. No strings attached, just as Ghost preferred it.
But you...
The way you wanted him, the way you watched him, eyes growing dark and heavy with desire, it made him realize he'd never been pursued that ardently. Sure, he had instances where he attracted certain women his direction - any bloke with a look like his warranted that - but a simple glower from him had them scurrying off just as quick.
He should be scaring you off too, not exciting you.
Not making you out to be an intoxication he was uncharacteristically impatient to divulge in.
Hell, with his given background and formidable expertise, no one even dared to hold his gaze for longer than three seconds. When he talked, everyone shut up. His reputation preceded him. Yet you... Bloody hell, you not only held your ground, but also eye-fucked him every chance you got.
Ghost didn't quite compute; you were a perfect stranger to him, someone he met but once, and yet you had a face that could make a man happily dream into an early death.
God, there was something about you that made his palms itch for a touch...itch to wrap that hair of yours around his fist, lift his mask, and descend for a proper feeding. A sick, twisted part of Ghost perhaps wanted to see how good you could get him to pillow talk.
It was a passing thought, but chills abraded his forearms. The challenge in it gave him a heated rush of red.
What the hell was the matter with him? he questioned for the umpteenth time.
He shouldn't be wanting such nonsense.
He shouldn't be caring for it either.
He should walk away now. But...
The moment he chose to act, turning, the exit his target, the shower stopped running. The naked pad of footsteps resounded. A towel flapped open. More footsteps, and then -
You emerged from the bathroom, all robed and clean, leaving steam in your wake. It looked like you'd just walked out of a dream, cherub cheeks flushed pink and skin dewy, almost satiny, and - fuck. He internally groaned. He wanted to bite.
What in nine hells? He popped his jaw in frustration.
Upon spotting him, excitement flashed in your eyes, and you nearly skipped over.
"You stayed," you breathily commented, the towel you were using to dry your hair tossed atop the dining table. Traces of vanilla and coconut saturated the air, infiltrating his mask, and his mouth involuntarily watered.
He needed to call that special number tonight, he decreed, or else he wouldn't survive the coming days. Days? More like hour. Keep it together, soldier.
Such unpalatable delight seeped from you, he slowly shook his head.
If only you knew he sewed another man's skull on his mask, beaten to a pulp before stripped clean of all tissue. A constant reminder of what he’d lost. Who he'd lost. If only you knew he viewed the outside world from the eyes of a dead man. If only you knew poison swam in his veins, immortalizing the infectious ichor that damned any soul to near him. Touch him. You would flee the other direction.
You would curse at him, curse him, see him for what he truly was.
A rotting corpse unleashed to the world to haunt. To terrorize.
Would you crave him then, knowing those very hands you wanted wrapped around you had ended lives, and most not so humanely?
He wasn't capable of holding you without hurting you.
Anything good and decent in him had long ago been buried away, and in their stead festered rancid tendencies that worked his mind and body tireless.
Nothing survived him, and you would be no different.
Even tonight, his somber mood a result of the death toll that ripped through his heart, deadened as it was, when he heard - witnessed - the scream of little children blown to pieces by a human bomber he was meant to stop, was no coincidence.
His main objective was to retrieve classified documents, but it had come at a cost when the enemy understood they were compromised.
He had done a bloody good job clearing the entire building, knives soaked crimson, fists even more so, but he'd forgone the basement, a bunker where bombers kept their own hostage. It was a gruesome tactic the enemy utilized to throw their foes off balance. He had a moment's decision before the bomber pressed the button - shoot him with the off-chance of saving the children, get obliterated to pieces and fail the mission, or succeed.
It was either them or the classified intel. He’d ducked for cover.
Choices have consequences, he remembered telling Johnny once, and, fuck, if he didn't hate himself for his.
He tasted the sulfur, the clogging dust saturated with human remains, in the back of his throat. He couldn't wipe those deaths from his eyes no matter how many times he bathed, scrubbed, scraped.
So, no matter you being a perfect stranger, feeding him look upon look of insatiable hunger any man would gladly sacrifice a limb for, he couldn't go down that road.
Especially when you meant so much to Johnny, his brother-in-arms, a man with a heart of gold that reminded Simon of his own. He couldn't do that to him, to you. Christ, he couldn't walk through fire again.
He wouldn't survive it.
And - bollocks, he nearly chuckled - he never sounded more miserable. It didn't matter. He'd be dodging a bullet with you, all right. All his physical needs, he could deal with them like a grown man in the confines of his own four walls.
Besides, he was a goddamn mess tonight, his feelings and thoughts blown asunder. He hadn't slept for seventy-two hours and was in desperate need of some shut-eye.
"You look like you've just seen a ghost," your lilting voice broke through his thoughts. He blinked down at you. You shrugged, a small smile forming. "Funny how that works, don't you think?"
Maybe he should give you a taste of what it meant to know Simon Riley. Maybe then, and only then, would you understand the favor he'd been extending you.
Silently, he pushed the steaming cup of green tea your way.
A soft gasp. "A man after my own heart." Your fingers came around the mug, hugging it close to your chest and taking a cautious sip. "Mmm. Just what I needed."
"You feelin' better?" Christ, he might as well have spat out shards of glass with how rough he'd sounded.
You licked your lips, pink tongue darting out. "Yeah. Much," you whispered. "Thanks."
Your lips enclosed around the rim again, plump, red and eager. Red as poppies. He imagined them closing around something else, something harder, hotter, sweetened by your spit.
His muscles stiffened, the itch flaming his palms. Palms he then curled into tight fists - before releasing.
He unsuccessfully cleared his throat. "Right, then, you get that rest, poppy."
He turned on his heel, the exit never appearing more distant as he marched to it. At the end of the island, he'd left the box of med kit and his glove, and he reached for the latter as he bypassed.
A blur of white and he was staring down at your delicate features again.
"Wait, wait, you can't just leave. And you definitely can't take this." You snatched the glove from his grasp and quickly hid it behind your back. You pursed your lips at his quiet glower. "Because I'll, uh, wash it for you. More polite that way."
Bollocks. You meant to keep what was his, you wily little thing. He could easily wrestle it out of your hands, but he didn't want to give you more incentive to put your hands on him. Or, worse yet, his on you.
"You got somethin' you wanna say?" he roughed out.
"Only that I want to thank you. Properly."
"Properly thanked. Now out of my way."
He meant to sidestep but you halted him with a soft, warm palm on his chest. His heart, for the briefest second, quickened at the gesture. Didn't need incentive at all, it seemed.
You struggled for purchase. "Well - Well, what about your tea?"
"I'll live, poppy."
Another step, another pressing of your hand against his body. More adamantly this time.
Bloody hell, such a tiny thing, you were, but he'd never encountered a bigger hindrance. Especially when he was oh, so close to the exit. He was positive you were going to lock your door and swallow the key if he did not indulge you a moment's courtesy.
His abrasive exhale of defeat finally brought your palm down from his chest, and he - what? Wanted to beat your white-bricked walls in at the loss of contact? Absolutely not - couldn't have felt better.
His lids dropped, and his look of defiance rivaled yours. For a second too intense for his liking, both of you were stuck in a battle of wills.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Four se -
Christ. That pulled a reaction from him, primal and almost aggressive. The kind that had the blood in his veins rushing hot and wild.
His low, grumbling voice, a contrast to the sudden, violent need unfurling in his lower abdomen, vibrated the still air between you.
"Properly thank me how?"
Of all the answers he could've expected, with how your teeth worried your lower lip, nibbling at the fleshly petal, or how your lashes fluttered, somehow nervous, or even with how your cheeks dusted pink in evident arousal, that is, a meek, "Biscuits?" was definitely not it.
His head jerked back, a frown creasing his forehead. "Biscuits?"
He fuckin' loved biscuits.
"Yes. With tea?"
Hell, he loved that more.
He let your words sit for a while. Then, "You got any ginger nuts there, poppy?"
A bashful smile revealed a row of straight, white teeth. He wanted to scrape his own against them, his tongue coaxing in to steal a little taste of you. At the heady image, he tensed.
Growled.
You swallowed. "You don't have to be so angry about it. I've got them. Come on, then, I'll share my favorites with you."
In under five minutes, you had the Ghost sprawled atop your bed goddamn picnicking with a plate of biscuits and a mug of tea in hand.
Having made away with his leather jacket, he leaned back into a heap of pillows you'd placed for him, and - oh, that felt good - his muscles hissed in pleasure at having finally relaxed.
He grunted, his lids threatening to drift shut. Your bed was warm, soft, and smelled of wild lilacs - all qualities Ghost was estranged to in the field, which happened to dominate the better part of his life.
"You'll love this," you said from your spot next to him. He'd momentarily slacked off, and your voice brought him back from the abating garden of flowers he was surrendering himself to.
He breathed in deep, pulling focus.
Having dimmed the lights to your loft, you wiggled to a comfortable position and succumbed to your own nest of pillows.
You smelled like a peachy sunset over a beach of glistening sands, and if he touched you, you'd feel even better.
And now he was turning into a bloody poet.
If 141 ever saw him like this, Ghost would never live it down.
He balanced his plate of biscuits and mug of tea on his lap, but when you pressed your shoulder to his, he nearly spilled the hot liquid over his pants.
It also chased the sleep from his burning lids, and, quietly, he suffered your presence.
His body seared where you touched him, but he made no show of it.
You outstretched your lithe legs, soft and enticing, over the bed, and crossed them at the ankles. At the movement, your white robe parted in the seams, revealing the supple flesh of your thigh, but you made no move to cover it. You simply lay there, still delectable with a kind of sweetness Ghost wanted to languidly lap at with his tongue.
So much so that the muscle now ached in his mouth.
He swore under his breath, his own legs shifting to distance his body from you. His booted feet, he dangled at the edge of the bed. He wasn't that barbaric.
"I thought you were the patient one," you chided, misreading his mood. In your fingers, you clutched some kind of a remote. It possessed two buttons. "Watch this."
You pressed the green one.
A soft whine reverberated from above, and then a portion of the sloped ceiling slid up to, inch by inch, reveal the thundering clouds in the sky.
Not many things had the power to surprise Ghost, but this... Well, suffice it to say, his jaw slightly slacked open.
Rain dazedly pelted the glassed frame, the droplets snaking down in rivulets, and distant strikes of lightning illuminated the cloudy world above, and in consequence, the dark room.
You dreamily sighed, sinking further into your pillows. You reached for the biscuits on his thighs.
Simon hadn't realized he'd placed them too close to his groin, and thought you went in for a different feeding, body abruptly tensing.
The faintest drop of your hand's weight on him had his throat contracting.
Subtly, he had the plate relocated to his abdomen. Much better.
"I had it installed when I moved in. It helps me sleep better at night. Oh, especially in such nights." You hummed out a chuckle and pointed. "Look at that cloud. Kind of looks like the head of a chihuahua, don't you think?"
Lightning crackled. The sky brightened in hues murky gray and electric blue - before plummeting into darkness.
He followed your finger, and released a contemplative sound. It was all he offered, but it seemed to be enough for you.
There was something about the sound of rain and your soft breathing that had Simon lulled to a cozy quiet. Snugged by the pillows, his weight sank deeper into the mattress, and he thought he was in a haven of your making.
This could put him dead out if it weren't for the tempting graze of your shoulder against his, forcing him awake ever time his lashes sluggishly fluttered shut.
You sipped your tea and reached for another biscuit.
Slowly, he lifted his own mask 'til his nose and watched, warily, if you'd sneak a peek. You did no such thing.
Ignoring the twitch in his brows, he bit into the biscuits. The tea smoothed them down his throat, and the warm nourishment felt good in his stomach.
All the while, you talked about your sweets and pastries, the corner shop you bought them from, and how it was your favorite with it having opened almost eighty years ago. And how he also should visit it once he gets the chance.
You finished your tea and placed the mug on your side of the nightstand. Brushing the crumbs from your fingers, you plopped back down, head on your pillows this time.
You still did not look at him.
Sober you seemed to have a few bit reservations than wasted you, it appeared, faintest traces of amusement pulling at the corners of his revealed lips.
Downing the rest of his tea, he put away the empty plate and mug to his side of the nightstand. With that, he masked his lips anew.
In the silence, the only sound the pouring rain, he dwelled in the dark with you.
Then, so softly, you said his name.
"Simon."
His breath hitched dead center in his chest. His eyes arrowed down at your lying figure.
You continued to look away, spiky lashes fanning delicate cheekbones.
"You can stay the night, if you want," you made out, swallowing tentatively and moistening your lips. With a tiny jump, you turned over - and finally tilted your face up to look him in the eyes. You cupped the underside of your cheek. "We don't have to do anything. Not that you - Not that you said you wanted to. I'm sorry. I only mean, it's late...and you must be tired." Then, oh, so gently, "Heard you had a long night, too."
Ghost remained silent for the duration of your speech, and at the last sentence, quirked a brow up. "Yeah? And who told you that?"
"Johnny," you murmured.
"Johnny," he echoed. A low crackling sound sizzled in his chest, but it dwindled out before ever reaching his throat. "You discuss me with Johnny, do ya now, poppy?"
Your eyes dropped from his masked face, and your fingers drew small circles into the pillow next to his.
"Sometimes, I do, yes." So effortlessly admitted. Fuck. "It was merely an evaluation of your person, is all. I could see it too. Your eyes are red. Bit groggy too."
He rasped out a low chuckle, if it could be called that, seeing as some sounds tended to get lost in the wide expanse of his chest. "That it, eh?"
A small smile crinkled the corner of your eye, and if he had a heart, he might've gone as far as to call you a darling right then and there.
You shrugged. "Yeah."
He ran the tip of his tongue against his teeth. Simon knew it was best he end the conversation now, rise from your bed, and exit your apartment. Your life. He got his proper thanks, after all.
But, like a damned fool he could only blame on his exhausted state, he stayed put - and probed further. "What else you bothered Johnny about me, mm?"
You licked your lips again, the tip of that tempestuous pink muscle wetting the seam, and he bit back a wanting grunt.
He'd never been more arrested by a mundane act.
Focus, soldier.
His eyes trailed the gentle curve of your jawline...and down your slender neck.
No, not there, you daft geezer. Away.
"Your mask," your tentative voice filled the room.
"What's wrong with it?"
Your soft hair rustled against the sheets as you shook your head. "Nothing. It's merely got something honest about it, is all. As paradoxical as that may seem, I realize now. It's pleasant."
Pleasant? That's a new one.
But he couldn't have you building false notions about him like that. Maybe it was time he warned you away for good.
"I have more blood on my hands than the one running in your veins, poppy. There is nothing honest about me," he coldly provided.
"Well, I think you're wrong."
Bloody hell, what would it take to dislodge you?
You moved, body climbing up the pillows until your head rested close to his shoulder. And then a little bit more, until you leveled with his face.
The sheer heat emanating from your skin traveled past his clothes, seeping into his pores.
Yeah, you were a darlin', all right. A damn appetizing one, at that.
You shifted slightly, weight on your left hip and bared legs so dangerously close to his.
Through the thick rim of your lashes, you regarded him. "Ghost," you said, and he nearly corrected you. "Would you like to know what else I discuss with Johnny?"
A burning sensation infiltrated his cheek, and he realized you were tracing your fingertips over his masked features. Carefully, cautiously, so as to not chase him away.
"For one, those pretty eyes of yours," you hummed lowly. On cue, you gently trailed a finger down his brow bone.
Heat speared his cheeks at that, and he was grateful for the coverage. Simon Riley, blushing. His lashes fluttered a bit, but other than that, you remained clueless as to his expression.
"And they change color every time I look upon you. Sometimes blue, sometimes silver, other times brown, like sweet caramel, and my favorite, pitch black. How do you do that?"
You studied him enough to have a favorite? At that revelation, his throat tightened.
Wordless, he performed a small, almost undiscernible, shrug, the pillows underneath shifting.
A slow, deep smile curved your cheeks. "You should let me study them in broad daylight. I'm sure I'll solve the mystery in no time." With a cheeky air, you booped the tip of his nose with your finger.
Quietly, he watched your face, coal-dark eyes intent and focused, the only sounds from him his steady breathing.
"God, they're so black." Tenderly, you ran your knuckles across his jawline, angled your head, and then softly guided his face closer to yours.
Once, someone had told him he had no present, past, or future, and he'd told them that he'd see them in hell. Now, Ghost realized hell was here, in the breath of a space between you, where you sat so close to him, and yet he could not close it.
"None of that, poppy." He nudged your hold off.
Disappointment colored your eyes, drooped your shoulders, and brought those pearl-white teeth to gnaw at your fleshly lower lip. And with so much bite, he spotted teeth marks form.
"Easy there," he murmured, fingers acting without his explicit permission and pinching your chin.
At that, the discouragement washed away and your eyes clouded with something dark and promising, putting the storm outside to shame. There you went again with that look. If his career in the Special Forces hadn't driven him mad, this surely would.
Understanding that he shouldn't have touched you, he made to move away, but your fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him close - and sliding your body closer.
The second your hip meshed against his, his muscles seized up, locking tight upon his bones.
God, you were hot against him. Burning up.
Simon nearly bolted from the bed when he felt your legs entangle with his, the blistering tension having unwittingly made away with much of his resolve and rendering him stimulated in places he'd rather not feel stimulated in.
Your toes teased his legs, rubbing up against the coarse material of his pants. Then, they glided over them, finding purchase in his inner calves - and massaging. Up, up, they traveled, then dooown they dropped, creating a spine-tingling friction.
Ghost grunted, shoulders bunching before undulating. He straightened a bit. Good God. He was suddenly too aware of his own body heating up and all his intimate areas. All too aware of his blood pumping and where it was rushing.
"You better stop that before you get hurt, yeah, darlin'?" he grated past his teeth.
You sighed, no doubt relishing in his deteriorating strength. "A little pain never hurt nobody. Isn't that right, Lieutenant?"
As you said that, you wedged your leg more firmly between his, parting them, and slid your knee upward to lightly grind it against his sensitive groin.
Christ. He grunted with less control now, the feeling slowly slipping through his fingers.
You shouldn't be using that kind of language with him. Shouldn't be talking in such a tone. Because addiction was another sin he didn't mind adding to the list.
His body sweltered from the inside and his heartbeat increased, beating in his ears. He had to leave.
Jerking slightly at another shiver inducing motion, he pushed at your leg.
A final, "No, poppy," scraped past his throat.
"Simon," you tugged at his wrist, voice hoarsely breaking at the end and so desperately, it nearly unmanned him, "I - I'm on fire. It hurts. It hurts so bad. Need... I need you. I can't stop. I don't know why I can't stop. I just - God, I've been needing you for so long now. Every night, I dream of you, do you know that? Every night. Please, please...I'm going insane. I'm - "
That did it.
With a ferocious snarl that was more animal than man, his arm shot forward, calloused fingers latching onto your cheeks and unchivalrously burying your head in your pillows with the abrupt maneuver of his body over yours.
His weight suffocated you into the mattress.
You gasped, eyes gaping wide in alarm.
His ire flared, his desire, even more so.
"Shut the fuck up," Ghost gritted in your face, now panting hot and fast. "Shut your fuckin' mouth now, poppy. Fuck. You ever heed a warning? You ever heard of using your own goddamn fingers? You ever use that pretty little head of yours? Bloody fucking hell, darlin'. Bloody. Fucking. Hell."
You squirmed under him, releasing small, breathless sounds.
The image of you rendered so helpless roused the most primal parts of him and his cock painfully hardened, straining against the strap of his pants.
It was blooming into an ache his hands alone wouldn't be able to assuage. Goddamit.
Your eyes searched his, arraying back and forth, attempting to grasp what just occurred within the span of a blink.
Then, they narrowed, pretty lashes fusing. "I have," you ground out, baring your teeth at him. "I do. But they're never enough." Fuck, you were talking about your fingers. You almost pouted insufferably. "Never what I want. Need. Crave."
"And I am?" he growled out, baring his own teeth. You seemed to like the intensity he exuded, even heatedly roamed your eyes over his masked lips, expression devoid of all fear.
You nodded eagerly.
Yes.
He cursed under his breath.
Lowly, lethally, "How hard did you hit that head of yours, mm?"
You bit your lips to suppress a moan, "Hard enough to get you in my bed."
"That mouth of yours is goin' to get you in trouble, poppy."
You keened at the warning. "Promise?"
At that, he couldn't will himself away even if he wanted to. Not even all the soldiers in his team combined could drag him away when you stared up at him so wantonly, so desperately, silently begging to make away with the terrible ache that shadowed over your every need.
So be it. You would learn your lesson.
"Open your legs," he growled - and slipped his hand underneath your robe.
Tumblr media
an: i made it into 3 parts bcs, well, i just had too much fun writing ghost suffering in his self-imposed ✨ agonies ✨
suffice it to say, the next part will be pure filth. pinkie swear this time. strap your seatbelts, girlies, we’re going to the horniest, dirtiest bangtown.
on another note, if anyone is willing to chat/discuss fics relating to cod or any other fandom of their liking, I’ve created a new discord server and pinned it on my blog; all are more than welcome to join ✨
62 notes · View notes
crazylittlejester · 2 days
Note
Uh, here! Have a little story!
~~~~~
"This would be easier if you'd sit still."
Wild curled his fingers into the fallen log he was sitting on as the Captain once again brought the saltwater-soaked rag up to his reddened ear. A pair of brand-new earrings with bloodied posts sat on the bark next to him. "I'm trying," he said, wincing and pulling back again. In lieu of a fight-or-flight response, he shifted in his seat and occupied himself by readjusting his hair band. "Why's it have to burn so much, though?"
Wars sighed and set his rag back in the bucket. He gave Wild's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Because it's killing the infection. Let's see how we're looking now." He shifted his hand to the back of Wild's head, who in turn leaned forward. With his other hand, Wars pressed gently against the back of the miniscule hole in Wild's ear. He winced sympathetically when more blood and puss oozed out. He fished the rag out of the bucket and resumed his work.
Wild didn't even know Legend was around until he climbed over the log and sat down, his back leaning against it. Legend looked over at the sparkling (albeit gross) earrings, then up at Wild's feverish ears, and folded his arms. "This is why we don't have nice things," he huffed.
Wild shrugged. "What did you expect me to do with them?" he asked, gritting his teeth as Wars soaked more of the disinfectant down into the wound.
"Sorry," Wars muttered, not looking away from the infected piercing as he dipped his rag into the bucket again.
"I guess I just expected you to, I don't know, switch them around like anyone else would???" Legend sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I certainly didn't expect you to just jab them through your cartilage. Go figure."
"Well, I thought that they would all look nice together!" Wild had pulled his hair over the front of his shoulder, weaving small braids into the tips. "And how else are you supposed to pierce your ears?"
Wars paused, looking Wild dead in the eyes. He spoke with crisp (almost sharp) enunciation. "You're supposed to make sure everything's clean. And that you keep it that way." Wild gulped and nodded, and Wars resumed.
Legend chuckled and leaned back, arms draped over the log behind him. "I guess we should just be relieved that you failed to convince Sailor to let you pierce his ears! I doubt he'll ever go for it now, though."
"I think you'd be surprised," Warriors added off-handedly, still fixated on the task at hand.
"But I mean, still, didn't you have to keep your original piercings clean?" Legend asked, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "Or did you just let them fester so long they stabbed over in self-preservation?"
"I dunno." Wild shrugged, now braiding the smaller braids together. "I've had earrings for as long as I can remember." Legend nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.
"There. I think that's all of it, at least for now." Wars dipped his rag in the salt water one last time, now wiping down the earring posts. "Will you want help getting these back in?"
"I've got it, thanks though." Wild slid them back into his ears, wincing only slightly. "Seriously though, thank you."
"Oh, don't thank me yet," Wars said, as he began gathering all his things. "We'll have to do this several more times, I'm sure." He tried to put on a sympathetic smile, as Wild visibly drooped.
"Well, you won't be receiving any more earrings, that's for sure." Legend stood up and stretched, pretending to ignore Wild's dramatic and betrayed gasp.
"Surely you jest? Surely I've learned my lesson??" Wild clasped his hands pleadingly, batting his eyelashes and pouting.
"Nope, don't wanna hear it," Legend said, turning and walking back to camp. "You can't be trusted. From now on, you're only getting earcuffs, and those little clasp-ons they make for small children."
Legend let out a yelp of laughter as Wild came up and shoved him from behind, and tried to retaliate before they both took off running and laughing; shouting biteless threats and accusations all the while. Wars shook his head and smiled, following behind them.
~~~~~
So, uh, all this to say: keep yapping! Regardless of how involved I am with LU (my hyperfixations have been varying WILDLY lately), your posts always brighten my feed! Thank you!
THANK YOU FOR THE LITTLE STORY I LOVE IT SO MUCH!! This would absolutely happen to poor Wild
also im glad you like my yapping, i will continue to do so
Tumblr media
46 notes · View notes
rpedia · 3 months
Note
How to deal with lack of motivation to reply?
Ah, the old blank screen stare. So, for the most part I consider this issue to be several intersecting problems at the same time. Usually a lack of motivation indicates a.) a lack of fun/enjoyment, b.) low/no expectation of reward, or c.) fear or apprehension. Let's explore that under the cut.
When you are roleplaying and you're not enjoying yourself explicitly, if the journey to a finished post is not fun itself, we're kind of fucking ourselves over. Creation of these words, excitement at turning a phrase or approaching an idea you really want to explore is basically the whole gist of it. It is a hobby, and loving what you write and laughing at your own jokes is important! You are your own first audience, and if you're not impressed or pleased with what you're writing, it becomes an endless Sisyphean task where you unhappily struggle to write something, anything, to just get through it.
In this case it may be a lack of inspiration. With no structure, or core, we can really easily lose sight of what kind of play we're looking for. What are your goals? Are you here for plot, or character? For smut, or a quick playful bit of banter? Do you want to fight, or are you reaching for some overarching thing? Hell, do you know where THIS scene is headed, or does it feel like an endless trudge? These ideals disappearing or falling to the wayside for someone else can really fuck the vibe!
How are you supposed to know what to write, if you don't have any plans for the character, or don't know where they might potentially go? Like it doesn't have to be hard and fast, but understanding your characters own personal goals, fears, joys, and secrets (entirely different to you, the player) can help with motivation in writing them. I like to explore these by playing games with myself, and daydreaming about scenarios and possibilities that aren't "canon" to my character, but just let me know more about them if a similar situation were to come up. Having a library chock-full of potential what-ifs can help a ton in figuring out how to approach any actions or direction a partner may push you towards. Be excited to explore your character, and to show them off to others! This journey is soooo important to love for itself!
Like with any piece of art, not enjoying the process is a quick short-cut to burn-out and misery. So, if this is happening you might want to adjust some things if you're sitting there upset and bored instead of enjoying what should be a fun pastime you can lose yourself in! So instead of beating yourself up about posting, figure out why it's a chore. Are you taking care of yourself? Have you met the S.H.R.E.K. criteria for the day? Is this post not something in your wheelhouse, or do you feel like you could be doing something else and getting more fun out of it?
Before I get ahead of myself, let me address the truly horrific acronym I just threw at you. S.H.R.E.K. criteria? Who would inflict this on you? Well... me, because it's so memetic and stupid I remember it way better than most acronyms, so buckle up buttercup. It stands for:
Socialization: Have you talked to someone or had meaningful interactions with others for the day? Depending on your needs, you may need hugs, touching others, chatting with loved ones, or cuddling. Some people literally need to be touched, held, hugged, and talked with the thrive, and others can do just fine with a little less. Listen to the monkey studies: Don't be a wire mother to yourself, let yourself have cloth mother sometimes. Hydration: Have you been drinking enough liquids to be hydrated and keep your piss from being too yellow? No liquids means your body starts sucking at everything from getting oxygen to the brain, to making food into energy. Make sure you balance hydration with salt and food intake, but never underestimate what a good cold cup of something can do. And yes, any liquid works. Coffee is dehydrating, so is soda, but their hydrating effect is way bigger than how often they make you piddle so it balances out. Still, water is best but don't beat yourself up about it. Rest: Have you slept enough in the last 24 hours? I know you think 4-6 is okay, but it's really not, it will actually cause you to behave like an alcoholic and lead to later insomnia, mental issue worsening, and health problems like heart issues. Nip that in the bud, sleep full 8-10 hour nights. Or nap if you're just sleepy! Eat: Have you shoved nutritious food in your gob or are you dying from scurvy, beri-beri, and malnutrition simultaneously while depriving the lil dudes who help you write a good lunch? Don't starve your lil neuron folks, they need a good meal too. Even if it's just ingredients for a meal, anything is better than nothing and you deserve food. Kinetics: Have you moved around? Stretched? Walked or played? Sometimes if you're starting out from zero, you might try just standing up and sitting down a couple times to help get bloodflow going! Getting active at whatever level you're at is good for the brain.
Anyways after that interlude, back to basics. At the lowest tier we want to be having fun. If we're not, it might be us, or it might be a boring lackluster partner. That's where a lack of reward comes in. If the partner is, bless them and their hard work, just not giving you the thrills to pay the dopamine bills? That just might mean you guys aren't a good match! This is not the end of the world, it just means you might need to stop playing with them.
Step back, consider if roleplaying with their style and output is worth your time and effort, and do BOTH of you a favor if they aren't. Set them free to play with other players who love their writing and can't get enough of it, and stop grating your teeth across cement trying to come up with something to keep things you don't even like going. This is the communication part, remember how I used to harp on that? Well old Uragani still thinks it's super important. So discuss that 'hey, we might not be a great fit for writing together' and come up with solutions. Maybe finding new partners, and just staying friends, or just waving goodbye to each other and hitting the road.
Here we find ourselves looking at challenger #3, the good old fear and apprehension. This comes up more than I'd like to admit. Are you worried about what's happening next? Or how you might portray something? Have you worked yourself up too much, and now you feel like you can never meet your own expectations? Are you scared of letting down a partner, and not giving them your best? Do you feel like your post might go over an unwritten line, and leave people upset with you?
Congrats! I hate that shit too! I do not know why brains do this to us! I would like to sue!
Anxiety is a hell of a beast, so is Impostor Syndrome, and fear of letting people down, and all the other fun goodies in that bag. They can be worked on at home, in small doses. You gotta learn to sit back, and be able to talk to yourself. Why are you feeling this way, and finding the name for your emotional state, accepting it, and letting it pass through can help. In major situations, you might need to find yourself a good old Common Sense Dispenser, better known as a therapist. They have the tools you need, and yes, roleplay can be a play you find out what you need. It's not dumb, it's useful.
Working through this can be as simple as discussing your fears with your partner and making sure everything is kosher. It might need you to look at a worst case scenario and then planning an exit strategy for that, even if it never happens. Sometimes, you just gotta heft yourself up, and push through the fear. There's a million ways to get through it, and I'm not the person who can tell you which will work for you. But I can tell you, it gets better the longer you work with it. Confidence comes from experience, the more you work at it, the more it feels like second nature.
But that brings with it the last beast, the hidden #4. Burn-out. Sometimes, when we delve too deeply into something we love, we ignore the signs of burn-out. Losing interest in things we once deeply enjoyed. Feeling exhausted at the thought of starting a post, or writing anything. Feeling like we've lost touch with what we used to be good at. Burn out can be a miserable thing, because it stand between us and our goals, our happiness, and it keeps them behind the thickest glass, so we can see them, but getting them feels impossible. The harder we push, the thicker the glass becomes.
In cases of burn out, like the kind I've experienced, sometimes you need to take a step back and just do something else. Go on hiatus. Maybe it's hooked to a character, and you simply have to play with some other muse. Maybe it's with another player, and finding a new fandom without them in it can help. Maybe it's with writing at large, and you need to go find some other outlet to explore while this one heals. You cannot do the same thing forever, you will lose touch with what makes it special. Believe me.
But after healing, which can take years if you keep pushing it like some idiot who wrote RPedia long after you should stop, it'll be fun again. You'll want to come back, and do the thing you were good at, and loved again. The spark will return, and things just... settle and feel better. I promise. Just let yourself have that time to recover without pushing yourself somewhere you aren't meant to go right now.
Naturally there's other stuff too. ADHD/Autism/other issues could be throwing the executive dysfunction ball into your lap and suddenly doing the thing you've done a thousand times is impossible. Stars aren't in alignment. Maybe you're stressed out because of an external force and need a break. Maybe the thread you're in has been going on too long in the same scene, and you need to cut and start a "fresh episode" before everything stays stale forever. Maybe you just aren't in the mood! There's a million reasons, but all of them come down to figuring out what the problem is, and engaging with ways to break that problem down into bits. Find your fun. Look for partners who make you feel like writing with them is worth it. Work with your fears, and express yourself about them and let them past through you. Find external help if needed, and take care of your body while you're at it.
And hey, remember, I am not the end all be all of advice. It could totally be something outside of these circumstances, but I'd like to think that in my experience these are the major factors that I keep coming across. If any of this has been a help, I can only be happy to have said it. Thank you so much for reading!
29 notes · View notes
imflyingfish · 20 days
Text
Going through another phase of wanting to buy a record player verses being unsure if i should
#XwX#id just like it for special things#and ambience#id like it so that i dont have to look at a screen to play music#and to have physical copies of my favourite music#however i have no clue if it would be cringe lmao#but id just like the feeling of physically putting on the thing to play#i could get a cd player i suppose#ive been planning to burn somethings onto discs and get a dvd player for a while now#and it would be a lot cheaper#however i dont think it would feel as special#ive actually really enjoyed downloading my music directly onto my computer rather than just streaming it#which sounds lame but this is the first time ive really tried it#so id like to go into physical media#i miss having a dvd collection as well#idk if this urge will persist ive been sitting on it for a while now#then again ive been having a lot of urges to buy things recently#new haircut new clothes (pretty much all i wore before january was wilbur merch so im a bit stuffed on nice things to wear)#freaking hand made as well#fuck since that april fools episode ive been longing for a vr headset#what am i going to do with that??? i have like 3 games i want to play and thats it!#maybe i should play the games i actually HAVE already#i always get the urge to buy things during a stressful period#guess we'll see#although i could say that i will get the record player and some nice discs if I win that bursary#ach i feel guilty for wanting things like this that i dont need though X_X#we'll wait it out#steal my dads record player#jk i think he uses it to impress his new girlfriend#like how hes suspiciously started playing the guitar again since dating her
0 notes
writersdrug · 15 days
Text
Training for Two: pt. 5
Simon Riley x Dogsitter!Reader
<- Previous
Warnings: cursing, obsessive behaviour, pining, still pretty tame at the moment, a hint of angst?
A/N: Ugh I meant to post this sooner but work was kicking my butt - that and I'm a bit sleep deprived. I've got more in the works, though! Hope you all enjoy! PS Running out of gifs to use so I'm using fan art and OMG I am obsessed with it all!!!!!
Tumblr media
art by @sleepyconfusedpotato
The drive back to Simon's house was quiet and dark. Price had turned on the radio, letting classic rock play quietly in the background. He tapped the steering wheel every so often, humming to whatever lyrics he could remember.
Simon sat in the passenger seat, staring at the cars ahead, occasionally glancing at the signs that whizzed by the truck. Each sign that brought him closer to home made him ache. He thought about his bed. He thought about Riley. And, of course, he thought about you. He knew you most likely wouldn't be there - it was after midnight. But he liked to imagine that you'd be waiting there, sitting on his couch with your book and mug of tea, Riley settled next to you, ready to greet him with your smile - the smile that he'd been thinking about in every stolen moment during the mission.
"Alright there, Simon?" Price cut through the silence, dragging Simon back to earth.
He cleared his throat. "Yes sir. Jus' ready to be back."
Price scoffed. He knew Simon didn't consider his house a home. If anything, it was a safe house between missions. "I'm sure Riley will be happy to see you."
"We'll see about that." Simon said with a chuckle. "This dog-sitter might've stolen her from me."
"Nah, she's yours. Been with 'er through it all." Price said as he turned into Simon's neighborhood. "I'm sure she enjoyed the company, though."
Simon grunted. "Seems like it." He said, remembering the picture you had sent him; the way Riley had cozied up to you, the way she seemed so docile and calm in your presence. He imagined you running your fingers through her fur, the perfect ratio of scratching to gentle pets. He wondered what it would feel like on his scalp...
A shiver ran down his spine. How does one become jealous of their own damn dog? It was ridiculous.
"Speaking of the dog-sitter..." Price said, "Johnny mentioned she's a real-"
"Whatever Johnny told you, you can disregard." Simon grumbled. "I told him not to worry 'bout it."
Price chuckled, which made Simon burn with frustration. "Touchy subject, eh?"
"There's nothing to discuss." He replied bitterly. Quite frankly, he didn't like the picture Soap had managed to paint of him. His entire team thought he was whipped by someone he had barely known. Despite it being entirely true, it was the complete opposite of the image he had built of himself - and he had a reputation to keep.
"Right." Price nodded. Simon could tell he didn't believe him, but as long as he didn't try to pester him anymore about it, Simon would take it as a win.
Price pulled into the driveway, and Simon immediately unbuckled. He reached into the back and grabbed his duffel bag, then yanked his door open and got out.
"Y' know this isn't over." Price said, right before Simon could close the door. "We most likely 'ave a week 'fore we get sent out again. Just don't get too comfortable 'ere."
"Never do." Simon replied, shouldering his bag. "I'll wait for your call."
Price nodded, sending Simon off with a wave. He watched as he closed the passenger door and walked up the path to his house, before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards his own home.
Simon sighed as he fished his keys from his pocket. He heard Riley barking on the other side of the door, and a small smile formed on his face. When he pushed it open, she immediately jumped on him, whining and sniffing him all over. He knew she could smell the others on him, and probably wondered why he didn't bring her this time.
"Hey, girl..." he said, yanking his balaclava off and kneeling down to ruffle her fur. "Sorry I's gone so long. Miss me?"
She stood her front paws on his knees and licked his face, still whining and swinging her tail rapidly.
"Yeah, missed you too." He chuckled. "D'ya have fun? Did she treat you right?"
Riley dropped down to the floor as Simon stood. She turned towards his duffel bag and began sniffing, eyes focused on the fabric as she took in all the new and familiar scents.
Simon sighed. "'Bout time for a proper cuppa." He said, making his way into the kitchen. Despite it nearing one in the morning, it would be a while before he was decompressed enough to fall asleep.
He reached into the cupboard for a mug, ignoring the way his back popped. When he placed the mug down and reached for a teabag, he saw a note on the counter. With a furrowed brow, he picked it up and read it.
Hello Simon!
Hope your deployment was fun good! Riley and I had a blast! She learned how to play dead - if you want to try it, just make sure to give her a biscuit for it (she's only had one today, and she was a bit bitter that I left before giving her a second one). Also, she's had her medicine for the day. I gave her last dose around 9 pm.
Can't wait to spend more time with her, but I'm sure she's happy to see her dad! Let me know when you need me next!
Have a nice evening!
P.S. I had to use your washing machine, I hope that was alright. I got a bit muddy trying to teach her the new trick.
He stared at the note for a good amount of time. His eyes wandered over your meticulously neat handwriting. He noticed how often you liked to use exclamation points - the same way you did in your texts and emails. It made him annoyed - but not with you. He was annoyed that he found it... adorable. He shouldn't. You were too bright and happy; your personality should burn him, not warm him up.
He tried to brush it off, blaming his obervant behaviour on the recent mission. Old habits die hard, he lied to himself.
"Riley, c'mere."
Upon hearing her name, Riley meandered into the kitchen and stopped in front of Simon. She sat on her hind legs and looked at him expectantly.
He looked back at her - he felt a bit silly, commanding a retired veteran dog to do simple party tricks. But, it sounded like you put a lot of effort into teaching her this - not to mention, you had somehow dirtied your clothes over it - so he decided to entertain the idea.
"Play dead." He said firmly.
Riley immediately flopped down onto her back, sticking her paws into the air. She even let her tongue hang out of her mouth to really sell the image.
He felt an immediate rush of pride. "Atta girl..." he praised, kneeling down and patting her affectionately. Despite all the annoyance he felt a moment ago, Simon couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face.
She twisted and sat up, snuffling and groaning as he rubbed her fur. She barked once, sharp and demanding.
"Yeah, yeah- suppose you deserve a biscuit, huh?" He stood up and grabbed the box of peanut butter and bacon treats, fishing one out and tossing it to Riley. She caught it perfectly, crunching it with an open mouth and licking her lips afterwards.
He watched her with a smile, his arms folded over his chest. Sure, tricks were dumb, something only glorified house pets did for small rewards. But he was impressed that Riley had so effortlessly followed a new command, especially after being out of work for so long. And he was warmed by the fact that, not only did you watch her, but you engaged with her. He was confident he'd found the perfect pet-sitter.
------------
After starting a load of laundry, Simon had taken a cold shower. He scrubbed his eyeblack off with nothing but his hands and the generic body wash from the corner store. He slathered some of his 3-in-one hair gel into his scalp, giving it no more than seven scrubs before rinsing it out. He stood there for a while, letting the water beat against his sore back as the details of the previous mission swarmed throughout his head. He picked apart what he could have done better, what had nearly gotten him killed, and what had probably saved his life.
His eyes flickered to the corner of the tub; there was a cluster of travel-sized bottles, labeled "face wash", "body butter", and so forth. He let himself imagine - who was he kidding, he had no control over his thoughts when it came to you - your body, standing under the stream of the shower. You probably liked hot showers, didn't you? You most likely stayed in there for an hour, going through your meticulous routine, lathering yourself in scented soaps and creams... you'd be appalled if you had seen the three-minute showers he takes, wouldn't you? Maybe you would pull him into your routine, once Simon did eventually get the balls to ask you out, despite how much the thought of being romantic with someone made him scoff. He'd let you wash his face, or shave his balls, or do whatever it is you would do to him.
He suddenly snapped out of his trance, realizing he was holding one of the bottles labeled "conditioner". His thumb was on the edge of the cap, ready to flip it open and take a whiff of the scent - but he quickly stopped himself. He put the bottle back with the rest, then splashed cold water over his face. Quit being a fuckin' creep... he thought.
After turning the shower off and drying himself with a towel, he went into his room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He made his way back into the basement, patting Riley on the back as he passed her by the door. He pulled his laundry out and placed it on top of the washing machine, and opened the dryer. Just as he was getting ready to toss his clothes in, he noticed something hiding in the back of the barrel of the machine.
He reached in and pulled it out - it was your flannel. The same green-and-grey one you'd been wearing during your interview.
He paused for a moment, posture rigid as he held the fabric in the air. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. It was just a flannel... but it was your flannel. He fought with his muscles, resisting the urge to bring it closer and inhale the scent - he tried to reason with himself. Maybe she used my soap, and it would just smell like my detergent. Nothin' special.
He dropped it on top of the dryer, still wrinkly and warm - but, strangely, that felt too rude. It's a fucking piece of clothing, for Christ's sake... he thought. Not her dead nan. He then attempted to hang it on the rack, but that felt too formal. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with irritation. How something so insignificant was causing him so much turmoil was beyond him.
He ended up bringing it back upstairs. Riley sniffed the fabric as he passed her - she thumped her tail eagerly on the floor as she smelled your scent. Once again, Simon was jealous of the dog being able to act so carefree with you - he knew for sure that if he tried sniffing your flannel, he would be a certified creep. Or, worse yet, he might not care, and wouldn't be able to stop himself.
He tossed it over the back of the couch, planning on forgetting you had ever even worn it. He dropped himself onto the cuhions with a groan. Riley immediately took her place in her bed, just a few feet away from him. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on the telly, flicking through the channels until he found some action/drama that caught his interest. He watched it boredly, drowning himself and his thoughts in the drone of the movie.
Suddenly, Riley barked. Simon looked at her - his gaze was met with hers, mouth opening and tail thwapping against the wall.
"Hmm?"
She let out an impatient, garbled sound. She lowered her head to the edge of her bed, still looking at Simon.
He shrugged internally and looked back at the screen. He settled further into the cushions and let his eyes fall shut. He thought about maybe drifting off then and there - the din of the telly might help keep the nightmares at bay...
Riley barked again, making Simon jolt. He snapped his head towards her - she was standing at the foot of the couch, ears back and panting.
"Wha' d'you want?" He asked in an annoyed tone.
She barked again, shifting her weight from one paw to the other.
"Ya need to go out?" He asked. He stood from his seat, only for Riley to scamper back to her bed and plop down on it. She looked at him expectantly.
Simon huffed. "'M not following." He dropped down to the sofa again. Riley groaned, making a scene of dragging herself out of the bed again and walking over to Simon.
"Now, don't you go 'n start aga-"
She cut him off with a shrill yap.
He pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew it couldn't be time for her medication - you had just given her some at nine. But he was entirely stumped on what she was trying to communicate to him. Was she hungry? She wasn't usually, after she'd had dinner... did she want to play? But... she was acting like she wanted to go to bed.
"What are you on 'bout?" He asked, leaning down to ruffle her fur. She dodged his hand and backed up a bit, yowling out a frustrated sound.
He scoffed. "Fuckin' hell..." he mumbled, pulling his phone from his pocket. Only one way to fix this, he thought, as he tapped through his contacts, until he landed on yours.
He stared at the picture for a moment, familiarizing himself with the details he had spent so long ogling at: your smile, your damp hair, the curve of your cheekbones, the way you marked your spot in your book with your fingers-
Riley barked again, making Simon scowl.
"A'right- just hush." He ordered, sending her a stern glance as she shuffled back to her bed. He started the call - he felt unusually nervous, his gut twisting as he listened to each ring on the line. Maybe he really was whipped, he thought.
Eventually, the call picked up. His shoulders tensed as he heard shuffling on the other end of the line.
"... m... hello?"
Fuck. You sounded tired- no, you sounded like you were still asleep. He quickly pulled the phone away and checked the time; it was nearly two in the morning. Of course you'd been asleep.
"Uh... hey." He said, mentally cursing himself. "Shit, I, uh... didn't even consider you might be asleep."
"No..." You mumbled - were you even awake at all? "No, iz fine... yeah..."
Simon waited a moment, expecting you to say something else - but you didn't. Eventually, he heard the soft sounds of your breathing again.
"Hello?" He asked cautiously.
"Up... 'm up... what's up?"
Simon shifted in his seat, slightly ashamed that he hadn't put two and two together and ended up calling you so late. "Right- jus' a quick-"
Riley barked again, staring at Simon impatiently.
Simon covered the speaker to his phone and sent her a harsh glare. "Oi! 'M workin' on it, hush!"
Your sleepy giggle wafted through the phone and into Simon's ear. "Sweet baby..."
Simon's breath caught in his throat, and he coughed nervously. She means the dog, the fucking dog, you idiot.
"Uh, sorry- jus' got a question for ya."
"Hmm?"
"Well- she's acting a bit funny," he stared at Riley and held a cautioning hand up as she shifted her weight and whined, "she's runnin' around and yellin' at me. Keeps gettin' in 'er bed, then comin' back like- like she wants somethin'. I have no bloody idea. Just wonderin' if she was doin' this with you."
"Oh, yeah..." Simon could hear your smile through the phone, and he desperately tried to push the image of your tired face from his mind. "She wants her blanket."
Simon paused. "She- she's got her blanket."
"No- she wants you to tuck her in."
"She wha' now?"
You laughed again. "You need to tuck her in her bed. She's right under the air vent and she gets cold."
He looked back at Riley. She was now sitting down, mouth closed, as if agreeing with what you said. He scoffed, rising from the couch and shuffling towards her. She slowly thumped her tail as he approached.
"Never 'eard of a dog gettin' tucked in..." he grumbled. He grabbed the felt blanket behind her, swaddling it around her body. She groaned, slowly blinking at him in an appreciative manner.
"Ya spoiled, you hear me?" He said quietly, tucking the blanket in between her and the cushion of the bed. She sighed happily, completely unaware that he was insulting her. She licked his cheek when he bent down close enough, and he grumbled and wiped the spittle away.
You giggled in his ear - Christ, you've got to stop doing that, do you have any idea what it does to him? - as he sat back down on the sofa. "All better?" You asked.
"Seems t' be-" he replied, watching Riley as she settled into her cocoon, "ya turnin' her into a princess."
"Well, she is one." You quickly replied - Simon could hear you stretching your limbs, followed by a long exhale.
He wanted to talk to you all night. Hearing you prattle on was like a balm to his jagged mind. But he knew he couldn't. You were half asleep, after all.
"Well, tha's all I needed- oh, and you, uh..." he grabbed your flannel off the back of the sofa. "Y' left your flannel here."
"I did?"
"Yeah. The green one."
"Oh, bullocks, I knew I-"
"Who are you talking to at this hour?"
Simon felt his heart stop when he heard the other voice. It had hit him like a train, flooding his veins with adrenaline. His brain went into overdrive, thinking of the worst possible scenario. Break in? Crazy stalker? Murderous ex? "Y' aright, love?"
"Simon." You said, and he couldn't tell if you were talking to him or someone else. Were you trying to warn him? To ask for help?
"Talk to me."
"Who the bloody hell is Simon?"
"My client, ya git."
"Oh- sorry love-" Simon heard more shuffling, then a kiss, followed by a grunt from you. He let himself linger in the confusion of what was going on - but, in the back of his mind, he understood it completely.
"Got me right in my bloody eye-"
"Oh, hush."
"Left your flannel at his house."
"My green one?"
"Yeah."
"I thought you were using the grey one!"
"Well, I was, Tyler, and then I wanted the green one!"
"That's it - I'm stealin' all ya knickers tomorrow."
You laughed again - this time. The sound nearly shattered Simon. He felt like it was wrong to hear you laugh so sweetly.
"Well, uh-" he was speaking before he even realized it. "You can pick it up- or I'll drop it off- or, uh, I can drop it- I mean, I'll-"
"You can shove it in the closet until next time, if that's alright?" You said, yawning shortly after.
Simon paused. He needed to get it together. "Yea, that'll work. I'll let you go then - sorry to call so late."
"It's fine, really. But let me know when you'll need me again, ok?"
"'Course I will. I'll send you an email, as usual."
You scoffed. "I know you said we should only text for emergencies, but you can text me if it's something small, Simon."
"Right, will do. I'll text you."
"Is everything ok?"
"It's fine. You should sleep. I'll talk later."
"Ok. Goodnight, Simon."
"G'bye."
He ended the call, staring at the screen for a moment, until your contact photo faded away. He leaned his head back and sighed. His thoughts suddenly came rushing back - except this time, they were about you. How he should have expected you to have a partner. How could you not? You were so bright and bubbly, of course you'd be snatched up. He felt stupid for thinking you'd be single. Maybe this whole idea of you falling for him was stupid. Maybe this was better - he was saved from rejection, even if this situation stung painfully within his chest.
Whatever. Hopefully, your personality would finally drive him over the edge of annoyance and anger, and you'd be more of a nuisance to him. That'd be the easiest way you could let him down.
He looked at the flannel in his lap. It's not even hers. He thought. He crumpled the fabric into his hand and flung it behind him.
Riley's head snapped up at the movement, and she floundered out of her bed, chasing after the flannel.
"Riley, no- don't-" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard her scuffling across the floor. He kept his eyes closed as he heard her come trotting back, before she stopped at the edge of the couch.
She whined and tilted her head. Simon opened his eyes and looked at her.
"That's not even hers, ya ninny." He said. He looked away and turned up the telly, hoping that everything in his head would just disappear into the back of his mind.
Riley stepped around Simon's feet as she carried the flannel in her mouth. She then hopped onto the couch and settled next to Simon, depositing the (now damp) clothing onto his lap. He grunted as she laid her head down on his leg, whining and flattening her ears. She looked up at him with curious eyes, slowly thumping her tail on the cushion.
He exhaled through his nose. He stared at the flannel, then back at Riley. "Ya really like her, eh?"
She licked her lips and blinked, sighing through her nose.
He chuckled, patting her side and looking at the ceiling. "I know. I do too." He closed his eyes.
"We'll be alright, girl."
------------
Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon
Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!
1K notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 3 months
Text
Rookiepillz: Here We Go Again
Tumblr media
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: almost a year after the rookiepillz incident, you and your now-boyfriend play some video games together. he's got a special strategy to help you win.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, brief cockwarming, daddy kink, rookiepillz
word count: 1.8k
a/n: finally. rookiepillz has come back to tumblr. the most anticipated come back of the century in my book. i just needed something silly as a break from school. we'll be back to regularly scheduled programming momentarily. part 1 is here.
Tumblr media
“ANOTHER GOJO!” you yell at your tv, flinging your controller to the other side of your couch. You feign a growl and look up at your boyfriend who’s lap you were laid up on. “Another fucking Gojo killed me. Can you believe this? It’s like a curse or something.”
He chuckles right next to your ear and kisses your temple. “You’ll get the win soon. You placed third that time, that’s not bad,” he tells you as you ready up again.
He was one to talk considering he planned and acted out a whole revenge scheme on you when he placed second. But hey, look at the two of you now. Snuggling on the couch, you wearing one of his shirts, playing video games in his lap while he gives you little smooches and whispers sweet nothings to you.
Sure, he used to be your stepdad, but he’s your man now. Sure, he dated your mom just to get back at you for beating him in a Fortnite match, but he also gave you the best dick of your life. And plus, he was pretty sweet when he wasn’t being a total asshole, so who are you to complain?
His arms squeeze around your waist, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, inhaling your scent as you beat on some innocent player in the lobby for having the default skin. He smiled as he watched your eyes light up with glee. He took in every word you said about how dropping at the pool house was the best strategy. He couldn’t get enough of you.
Yeah, he had fucked your mom as part of a long revenge plot over losing a victory royale. Yeah, he did humiliate you by spanking you and then revealing said revenge plot in the middle of fucking. But it’s only cause he knew you’d be his girl in the end. He was just having some fun with his sweetheart, right?
He half-watches you running around the map, giggling when you drive a car off a cliff or start doing the weeknd emote. A smile breaks across his face whenever you kill someone because you lightly tap his forearm and go “Look! Did you see that? I gottem.” And then he’d whisper to you, “mhm, that’s my girl” before planting another kiss on your cheekbone.
But what really got him going wasn’t the precious moments of joy or the sweet expressions of tension when you started losing health. No. What really fired him up was your rage. What could he say? It reminded him of nearly a year ago when he’d pulled you over his knee, the fire that had burned in your eyes. A day he’d never forget. 
All he had to do was be patient for your match to start winding down. Once that notification came up that said there were only 25 people left, that red monster inside you would start rearing its head. The “motherfucker’s” and “god damn it’s” would start flying, and in no time at all, you’d be wearing that adorable pouty expression.
Like right now. He watched your character explode into a pile of loot. You slammed the controller down on your laps and crossed your arms, sinking back into his embrace. “That’s such bullshit. At least it wasn’t Gojo again,” you grumble.
Fuck, it got him hard.
“I think I know your problem, baby,” he says. 
You look at him with a raised eyebrow. The one piece of certain leverage you had over your boyfriend was that you were a better Fortnite player. Whenever he gave you unsolicited advice on your playing, you made sure to bring up the fact that you had beaten him before.
“You’re getting so frustrated, y’know. I think you gotta calm down a bit. Let yourself relax so you can think and focus better. And I think I have a way you can do that,” he says.
“And what would that be?” you ask, tone growing softer as you start to catch on.
“How about you relax on daddy’s cock? I know you can only think straight once you’ve been filled up,” he purrs. His hands smooth up your stomach to your tits, coasting over your nipples that were already starting to harden out of instinct. Because if there was one guaranteed piece of leverage he had on you, it was that special word that you’d seemed so averse to just a few months ago.
“I think that’s a good idea,” you answer. It felt shameful that he could get a rush of arousal from you with just a simple word said in a particular tone.
You stand up, still working the controller as another match starts up. He tugs down your shorts for you, grinning like the madman he was at your lack of panties.
“Look at you all prepared,” he coos and kisses your hip, “You knew you’d be getting a treat from daddy today, hm?”
“Lucky guess,” you respond as he guides you back down. Your knees rest on either side of his thighs. He lines himself with your entrance and pulls you down until he’s bottomed out. You whimper and bite your lip, locking your eyes on the tv to focus.
For the beginning, he really does just let you sit there, nice and full. And maybe he was sort of right. You feel pretty calm so far. Everything is less stressful when, in the back of your mind, you’re noticing the way he twitches within you or the small grunts he lets out when you tighten around him.
You were so warm and tight. Felt just as good as the first time, and fortunately for you, there was no bombshell plot twist waiting around the corner. His fingers rub little circles on the outside of your thigh.
“What do you think? Is it helping, babydoll?” he asks.
“Mhm, thank you, daddy. Fits just right,” you say.
He chuckles at the cute way you say it. You work on sniping some people, he tests out rolling his hips. You sharply inhale but don’t protest. So he does it again. His cock slides through the warm embrace of your walls, kissing your favorite spots deep inside. You still seemed focused enough, so using his hands to hold you in position, he begins thrusting upwards.
Your breaths become longer and shakier, but you will yourself to maintain focus. The number of players was dwindling fast. He was bouncing you on his cock which normally left you empty-headed in seconds. But you needed this victory royale. You really were his girl.
He lets out a groan, leaning back against the couch cushions with his head tilted back. It wasn’t like he needed the win this time. He could let go. And so he did. He pistons his cock up into you faster by the moment.
“Fuck fuck fuck. Daddy there’s only two other people,” you whine in a plea for mercy.
“Almost there, baby,” he grunts. You honestly didn’t know if he was referring to your game or how close he was to cumming.
You don’t have time to think about that though because the circle is closing. You grit your teeth and grip the controller with all the focus you have left.
“Daddy, c’mon, I could win,” you whimper.
“I know, princess. You got this, pretty girl,” he mumbles while his eyes flutter. His abdomen twitches as he feels himself gearing up for release. “Tell you what. If you win this one, daddy’ll make sure you get a special reward later on.”
Now it is absolutely on. You can’t lose this. That’d be even more humiliating than the original rookiepillz incident. You’re dashing around the map as your boyfriend pumps in and out of you. It’s a difficult task, managing to hold off your release and try to win.
But soon enough you spot your targets. At the same time, it seems that Leon is reaching his. “Oh fuck, baby. So fuckin’ good. Daddy’s gonna fill you up just how you like,” he whimpers from behind you.
He bounces you, and you know your own peak is imminent. But you see the other players, and in an absolute miracle, you down one and then the other. The tv flashes gold with your victory as your body seizes with the white hot pleasure of release. Simultaneously, he unloads inside you, firing rope after rope into your tight cunt.
He fucks into you a few more times before actually coming back down to reality. You’re coming down too, melting back against his chest. He’s stroking your face when his eyes catch on the tv.
“Holy shit, you actually won?” he asks. His tone gives away that he’s actually impressed. and that’s your ultimate victory royale.
“Mhm, all for you,” you tease and lazily kiss his cheek.
“God, baby. Making me feel like the luckiest man alive right now,” he replies and reciprocates your small gesture of affection.
The two of you cuddle for a bit longer. You’re finished with the game, having finally gotten the win you wanted. And like always, he was such a sweetheart after, giving you kisses and praise, holding you close, even cleaning you up once he got up. Unfortunately, he had to go into work today, so it wasn’t long until he had to leave. He makes sure you’re content before he says goodbye with a kiss to your forehead.
Later that night though, you were alone at your place just as Leon was at his. You get a text. His contact lights up your lockscreen with the message “Get on Fortnite?”
You smile, hopping on your couch and turning on your console. You text back a “yeah hehe :)” He facetimes you, and you beam when you see his face, something you would have never thought possible when you met him. While you wait for everything to turn on and connect, you ask him about his day and how he’s feeling. He answers softly, heart melting at your interest.
To your surprise, when the game finally loads up, you have a gift. From rookiepillz himself.
“Leon…” you say excitedly.
“What?” he asks, playing dumb at first, “Just open it.”
So you do. You burst into laughter as Gojo appears on your screen next. “You’re so funny. I love you,” you giggle. It slips out so casually, he’s not even sure you registered what you’d let slip. He lets it go for now. He would tease you about it later. Right now, he was just so enamored with you.
As you prattled on about wanting to be the skin with the blindfold on and how he should get one for himself so you could match, he realized something. He’d lose every Fortnite match for the rest of his life if it meant he got you. His own personal victory royale.
485 notes · View notes
jk97 · 3 months
Text
Unprofessional Attraction | TWO
Tumblr media
♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 18.2K ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, halloween, drinking alcohol, perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, pet names (angel, pretty, smart girl, etc), pinch of sexting and unintentional phone sex, office head (giving and receiving), fingering, praise, unprotected sex, riding, jealousy, blackmail, good ol' porn with plot ♡ A/N - my goodness thank you for 1000+ notes ♡ sorry it's so long but I appreciate the patience!! the school semester timeline in this is kinda unrealistic but ignore that, fictional romance has no bounds LOL. This might end up 4 parts instead of 3, we'll see what my brain figures out.
Part 1 | Part 2 | ?
Tumblr media
“I’m starting to think you’re kidnapping me.”
For the past 30 minutes into this drive, something Yunho had initially assured you wouldn’t take long, you’ve been alternating between staring out of the window at your surroundings slowly becoming unfamiliar and the small bouquet of flowers sitting in your lap. Even as you gaze at him inquisitively, he doesn’t move his attention away from the road. When he doesn't answer for longer than what you deem appropriate, your brows flicker up in amusement. That gets his attention.
“Oh, right, that’s a bad thing,” he clears his throat dramatically, though you know he’s just poking fun at your impatience, “I suppose I could ruin the surprise if you’re getting restless.”
“No, I’m not! I’m just very curious why it’s so far away,” you stop him quickly. That’s absolutely a reasonable question and Yunho decides to give you the answer.
“I know I said I wanted to be discreet but…” he pauses and sighs, shaking his head, “I just can’t. Figured the next best thing would be to just leave our area for the day and do something fun around strangers instead. I just want us to be comfortable, I guess.”
“You really weren’t kidding about being thoughtful, huh?” You hum softly, hand finding his own sitting on the gear shift. He allows you to thread his fingers between yours without hesitation.
“I meant everything I said, yes.”
“I guess I can be patient then,” you feign annoyance, rolling your eyes. 
The earnest laugh that your silliness evokes from him fills the car and makes the atmosphere even warmer than before. The gift of flowers had already charmed you upon getting into his car, so you can’t imagine that there’s something even better waiting for you at the end of the drive. As much as you’d love to know what this man had settled on within the last few days, you allow yourself to indulge in the feeling of being whisked away and surprised instead. In the meantime, you busy yourself again by humming to his radio and continuing to survey your surroundings passing by quickly the further you drive.
There are many things Yunho is good at and he’s a very intelligent man, but cooking is just not one of those things. Because of this, he generally eats out instead of bothering with making food. This is particularly one of the reasons why he never had an issue when it came to eating dinner with you outside of his home. He supposes if he wants to be a proper and worthy bachelor, he should learn one of these days not to add too much salt to soup, or how to properly fry an egg without burning it to a crisp. Today’s decision to take you both to a cooking class is motivated by those circumstances. Sushi shouldn’t be that hard to master, right?
It begins easily enough. 
Each group has an individual station, and the class starts with a simple seaweed salad as an appetizer. He makes sure to follow all the instructions to a T, his only deviation being adding a dash of red pepper flakes because he likes spice. Yunho’s already so used to you asking for a taste of his food that he immediately goes to share his final product without you even asking.
While you’re still mixing your own he beckons for your attention, holding out a bite with his chopsticks, “Open.”
This is something you’ve done before, yes, but only a few times. It’s a bit more embarrassing though while doing such a thing in front of other people, and he can’t help but notice how you can’t look him directly in the eyes while obliging him. You’re so cute when you’re shy.
“How does it taste?” He asks before you can even get to chewing, but he’s a bit nervous that you might spit it out before he does.
When you do get to chew and swallow, he’s surprised to see your eyes light up, “Wow that’s delicious, Yu!” 
Asking him for another bite inflates his ego just a pinch too much, but he can’t help it when you’re praising him for his work. Maybe to hide his inability to cook anything else he’d simply make you seaweed salad for the rest of your life. Yeah, that sounds nice… He tries to suppress the confident smirk tugging at his lips and hypes himself up for the rest of the lesson. After everyone in the room has wrapped up that portion of the lesson, the instructor moves forward with beginning the sushi crafting.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you meet your friends?” You inquire in a low voice while the instructor carries on about how much rice is an appropriate amount, clarifying, “Mr. Park and Mr. Choi.”
“I met both in college, but I met Seonghwa first,” he muses, “I was a sophomore and he was a junior, and we both happened to choose the same music elective that year.”
“What the hell is a linguist doing in a music class? Felt adventurous that year?”
“I’m quite the singer actually,” Yunho reveals with a confident smile, but his arms cease their rice flattening when he hears you try to stifle laughter. His brows crinkle as he peers over at you with a prominent pout tugging at his lips, “What, you don’t believe me?”
“No, I do, it’s just–” You give him a once over. “I’m imagining this angelic voice coming out of you and it’s really cute.”
“Angelic…” he muses, then turns back to flattening his rice and smiles to himself, “I guess I’ll have to show you one day and you can determine that for yourself.”
“I’d love that, actually.”
The instructor announces that next you’ll be slicing up salmon and avocado to put inside your rolls. You and Yunho work diligently on splitting the filet of salmon provided between each other to see who can do it best and follow her lead once more. 
“Continue the story,” you whisper to him once the instructor gives the last of her enthusiastic pitches on how to glide the knife through in one stroke for each piece, “What happened after music class?”
“Well, we became friends after pairing up for a duet project… and then we met San the following year after he hired Seonghwa for tutoring in history.” Yunho pauses for a moment to put an immense amount of concentration into his first slice, which still definitely ends up way too thick. “He did things like that on the side for money sometimes. Put up posters in the cafes and everything.”
Even though you’re also concentrating, you nod so he knows you’re paying attention. Unlike Yunho, you seem to have picked up on the cutting technique pretty quickly. His eyes keep flickering back and forth between your work and his, and he huffs in dissatisfaction.
“Sheesh, that was quite some time ago,” you state absentmindedly.
“Excuse me, are you calling me old?”
“Possibly.”
For the nonchalant jab at his confidence, Yunho nudges your cutting arm mid-slice and causes you to abruptly cut the current piece in half. The flabbergasted look on your face and the way your mouth drops open at a loss for words makes him giggle.
“I’m so sorry beautiful, it’s these old brittle bones,” he feigns remorse, lips pulling into a dishonest pout when you glare at him, “Can never keep my balance these days with them, you know?”
“Maybe they’re also the reason your slices look as big as filets,” you quip back, “Might as well throw those on the grill, right?”
Yunho’s pout turns genuine. You only apologize because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you both agree to let you cut the salmon while he works on the avocados instead. It doesn’t take long before you’re finished placing the necessary ingredients onto your rice and following the instructor's words on how to successfully roll it all together. This is something that Yunho is actually able to do decently, and he marvels at the way he’s got a genuine sushi roll in front of his eyes made from his own hands. Moving forward, his mind is consumed with cutting it into perfect bite-sized pieces when you tap his shoulder.
“Hey, do you like soy sauce on your sushi?”
“Sometimes, why?” He replies, and when he turns around to peer down at you he’s met with a pair of chopsticks holding up something for him to try. 
You smile in place of instruction, but he opens his mouth without even having to be told to do so. Unlike you, he doesn’t mind holding eye contact while you feed him. It feels intimate even with strangers around you. Dozens of butterflies manifest in your stomach and go into even more of a frenzy when he sighs in contentment. He’ll be nice and pretend he didn’t see the way you swallow the lump in your throat. 
That’s when you notice you put just a little too much soy sauce on his piece, and your thumb casually swipes the excess from the corner of his mouth. It’s an action that should be helpful and innocent, but you put your thumb in your mouth to lick it clean without even thinking. He absolutely takes notice. Every time Yunho thinks he’s got the upper hand in wooing you, you make him lose his cool so easily.
“Your face is red. Was it too salty?”
Yunho clears his throat and shakes his head hastily when he sees you’re genuinely concerned. He really wants nothing more than to kiss you at this moment, but that would have to wait until you both are alone. The rest of the class goes by quickly when tasked with making a different sushi roll and some strawberry-matcha ice cream for dessert. Yunho thinks he might see a hint of disappointment on your face when things come to an end and you have to take off your aprons. 
“There’s a park not too far away from here if you’re okay with walking for a bit. Burn off some calories?” Yunho proposes when you both finally leave the building, and you nod eagerly. For the second time today, you link fingers and begin your venture.
The walk ends up being a bit longer than you both expect, but it doesn’t take much time to find a secluded spot where you could have some privacy when there. It’s fairly brisk today, so when Yunho removes his jacket to grant you a clean place to sit on the grass, you immediately tell him you don’t mind sitting on the ground at all, that you’d rather him be warm. He assures you that he’s not cold at all (a big fat lie) and doesn’t mind getting a little dirt on his pants, so you give in and situate yourself on his jacket. The silence between you both is comfortable, filled with the sounds of people playing somewhere nearby and birds occupying trees in the branches lingering over you. You debate about striking up more conversation about his past, but he beats you to the punch on speaking.
“I haven’t done this in a while you know,” Yunho suddenly divulges, “Have you?”
“Gone on a date?” When he nods you shake your head, “No, actually. Haven’t met anyone worth going past the texting phase, to be honest... Well, besides that one day.”
You feel a bit guilty when still having to lie about that phony date that led to your first dinner together, but it’s not like it’s something you can change now. 
“As bad as it sounds… I’m glad you got stood up that day,” his eyes fall to his lap when he mumbles this. He hopes that doesn’t come across negatively.
The corners of your mouth tug into a smile at his honesty. Maybe one day in the future you’d gain enough courage to tell him it was a lie. You wonder if he would genuinely be upset… Though, you suppose you’re thinking way too far ahead into the future for those kinds of worries. 
Instead of dwelling on it, you simply say, “I am too, Yu.”
“You’ve been using that nickname more often,” he points out after a moment of thought, “Any particular reason?”
“It’s just a habit when we get alone… helps me separate you from how I know you on campus,” you reply and glance over at him apprehensively, “I’m sorry, it probably sounds too childish, right? I can stop.”
“No no, I prefer when you call me Yu,” he admits, palm digging into the grass as he leans back on his arm with a sigh, “Everybody else calls me Yunho, Mr. Jeong, whatever.”
“Am I not in the same category as everybody else?”
“Not at all,” he professes without any hesitation, lolling his head to the side to finally peer back at you. The soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth makes your heart stutter. 
“Duly noted,” is all you’re able to mumble back. When his eyes go from surveying your face for any unease at his bluntness to zeroing in on your lips, you can’t help the heat manifesting in your cheeks.
“Are you comfortable if I kiss you?”
“I feel like we’re way past that step, no?” You quirk a brow.
“Was more so asking since we’re technically in public, but I suppose that’s also true,” he laughs softly, leaning over and pressing his lips to yours before you can reply to him with any nonsense.
His lips are always so soft and plush, and it’s so juxtaposed with the way he kisses you with intensity and clear intent. He’s never really hesitant of himself when you both kiss, never thinking twice about selfishly stealing your air, despite any anxiety he may have about your situation inside of himself. He’s a bit too enamored with the way your tongue still tastes like strawberry matcha to realize that his free hand has dipped under the hem of your dress, fingertips creeping and leaving a trail of heat as they inch further and further up your thigh. As much as you’d love to indulge him, your nerves won’t let you, no matter how secluded your spot might be.
Your hand wraps around his wrist gently, giggling onto his lips as you warn him, “Don’t get any funny ideas. Like you said, we’re in public.”
“You’re absolutely right,” he sighs reluctantly. He can’t deny that he’s slightly embarrassed for even letting his hands move with a mind of their own. There’s just something about you that makes him feel like he doesn’t have to think so hard when you’re around, and it makes him lose his senses in the process. Everything just feels natural. An affectionate smile plays at his lips while he rubs the material of your dress between his fingers, “It’s getting pretty late, the sun is setting.”
“Let’s head back before the traffic gets too crazy then, yeah?” You propose and he nods silently before pushing one last peck to your lips.
The drive back to your apartment feels much quicker than it did leaving, and this stirs up a hint of despondency in your stomach. It feels like your time with him has ended just as soon as it started, but you suppose you should appreciate the full day you did get to spend with him. Still, you know something like today won’t happen that often, and it makes you a bit sad the closer you get to your building. 
Like the gentlemen he is, Yunho walks with you up to the second floor and to your door, hands shoved deep in his pockets while he debates on how to say bye. He doesn’t know if he should kiss you goodbye when anybody could be watching now that you’re back in the area. Then again, he supposes even walking you up to your place was risky to begin with. While he’s debating over these things in his mind, you’ve already opened your front door. He doesn’t even realize you’re staring at him until you call his name, to which he’s subsequently sputtering a bunch of apologies after being caught overthinking. 
“Why don’t you come inside for a little bit,” you hum, more as an instruction than a request. 
Yunho’s tongue prods at the inside of his cheek in rumination over the various prospects of what exactly coming inside could entail, but the way you’re gazing at him with those beguiling eyes is already luring him in before his thoughts can get the best of him. His feet move on their own, taking tentative steps into your abode with an overwhelming feeling of excitement pooling in his chest. The sound of the front door being locked is followed by you coming up behind him and wrapping your hands around his torso. It’s very sweet, the way you bury your head in his back and squeeze him in an endearing hug.
“I really enjoyed today,” you tell him as best you can with your cheek still squished against his back. You feel the warm chuckle he lets out reverberating through his back. He wishes he could reciprocate your hug, but it seems you’re intent on staying behind him.
He settles for saying, “Thank you for giving me the chance to fix things, ____. I just wanted to show you that you mean a lot to me.”
Then, there’s a beat of silence, and he wonders if everything is okay. Maybe that was too much…
“What’s your day look like tomorrow?” you suddenly ask softly, and Yunho's eyes fall to watch as your hands drop and ghost around his belt. 
His Adam's Apple bobs anxiously before he answers in an equally soft voice, “Sundays I… I usually prepare my slides and lesson plans for the week. Meet with the boys in the evening after I’m done for some drinks…”
Your hands gently undo his belt as he’s talking, humming “ mhm ” every few words to let him know you’re indeed listening. 
“Maybe you should leave in the morning then,” you propose, fingers gently popping open the button of his pants. You can feel him take a deep inhale the moment you finally gently tug at his zipper.
“Yeah, maybe I should.”
That night, Yunho learns several things about you.
He gets to learn the ins and outs of your gag reflex. You have a slight affinity with deep-throating your partners, and he falls in love with the view of you even trying to with tears in the corners of your eyes. The way your lips stretch around his thick cock… It’s an image he stores in his mental album of you for later use.
He gets to learn about the tattoo you have hidden on your back as he’s fervently driving that same thick cock of his into you from behind. He traces it delicately with his fingers before reaching forward to grab at your hair, pulling it back for some well-needed leverage while his sweaty thighs smack against yours over and over.
He especially loves learning that you like being talked through things, and he’s already made you cum twice by utilizing his voice. Rinse and repeat, the way your greedy cunt squeezes and milks him for all he’s worth when says, “Remind me, what’s my name?” And when you moan out that nickname that he likes so much, he replies with, “That’s my smart girl. Looking so pretty, you feel so fucking good around me. You gonna cum for me again, pretty? I can feel you squeezing, go ahead and give it to me.”
Needless to say, it was a very long and educational night. 
In the morning, Yunho’s desires get the best of him, and he manages to inconspicuously steal a pair of panties from the laundry pile in your room, shoving them into his pants pocket while you’re in the bathroom. He makes sure to take a plain-looking pair, something he’s sure you won’t notice is missing. There’s a slight feeling of guilt once he’s nearly home, though. 
It’s okay, it’s just a one-time thing, he tells himself over and over, I’ll return them the next time I’m over.
“YOU WHAT?”
Yeosang slaps his hand over his mouth but, to be fair, his reaction is entirely involuntary. He had promised you he would remain calm, but how could he with this kind of information? You repeatedly sputter that, while you may be in the back of the library, he is very much going to cause a disturbance if he doesn’t shut his fucking mouth.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he exhales, leaning in with eyes as big as saucers, “You came in too hot, I need the foreplay first.”
“Don’t phrase it like that, good Lord,” you groan.
“What else am I supposed to say when you tell me you’ve fucked him and none of the lead-up? Fuck, did he even take you out to dinner first?”
“Of course he did,” you defend him quickly, “We’ve spent a lot of time together actually. Mostly dinners and things of that nature.”
“I’m mostly shocked that it took you this long to fuck him. Seems like you hooked him fairly easily.”
“Well…” you cover your face just enough to where an eye can peep out between your fingers, and Yeosang eyes you curiously, “No, that wasn’t the first time…”
“Obviously you hate me, ____,” your best friend immediately states, clasping his hands together, “This is the only suitable explanation of why you wouldn’t tell me this until now. I literally begged you for info like an idiot weeks ago!”
“I’m sorry! It was just—”
“Nah, denied,” he holds a hand up to shush you, “Worst best friend ever.”
“Yeo, I explicitly told you progress was being made. Did I not?”
“You failed to tell me that it was being made between your legs,” he snaps in a whisper-yell. “How many times?”
“Only twice, okay? You haven’t missed much, I promise.”
Yeosang sits in silence with his head perched on his palm, seemingly marinating in all of the information he’s been slammed within the last 10 minutes. There are very few times you’ve seen him at a loss for words, but this moment surely makes the list. 
“I didn’t think he would cave that easily, honestly.” He finally speaks. You release all the pent-up air in your chest that you hadn’t realized you were holding in waiting for his words. “What did you do to him ____?”
He pleads for the final time for you to start from the beginning and explain, and you finally grant that to him without getting too into the nitty gritty. You’re a bit bashful recounting some of the lengths you took in setting this all up, but Yeosang simply nods in understanding at each one. If anyone was going to be supportive, it was always going to be your frontline cheerleader. 
After taking in the full story, he thinks it’s only proper to ask, “What’s your plan beyond this point?”
“Well, exactly what I said to you a long time ago,” you tell him frankly, “If all goes well, I want to be in a relationship with him after I graduate. I don’t see him saying no to that with the way he’s already treating me...”
Yeosang notices the way your demeanor has changed with this answer. Previously, the humorous lilt in your voice was much more prominent. Those same sentiments and that joking attitude seems to be long gone. He can see it in your eyes, the way you’re taking this more seriously. He wonders what Yunho could’ve possibly done to turn you into such a romantic over him. The answer to that would simply be: everything. 
“You know, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure if you were telling the truth about wanting things beyond sex at first,” Yeosang tells you honestly. He may be a goofball, but he’s able to be serious when needed. And despite the foolishness leading up to this statement, his voice is earnest when he says, “I can see this working out for you as long as you’re careful.”
“I hope so, Yeo. I really do.”
On the following Wednesday, you and Yeosang are both seated in Yunho’s class wasting time on your phones as class is set to start. Usually, Yunho is very punctual with starting because his lectures are so long, so you’re curious as to what the hold-up is today. You peek over your laptop and spot him talking to a guy you’ve never seen before and, as far as you know, you’ve never recognized him in this class. They nod at each other before you see Yunho clear his throat.
“Everyone, I want to take a few minutes at the top of the hour to introduce someone important,” Yunho begins, loud enough that everyone can hear and cease chatter. “I’m sure some of you recognize him from other classes. For those who don't, however, this is Wooyoung Jung. He’ll be serving as my teacher’s assistant for the remainder of the semester.”
“I’m happy to be able to help any way I can,” Wooyoung proclaims to everyone with a sweet smile before turning back towards Yunho, “And thank you Mr. Jeong for allowing me the opportunity.”
You wonder if this is something Yunho truly chose or whether it was sprung upon him; it’s fairly late into the semester for something like this to be introduced. He does have quite the workload though, you muse. Surely with new hands to help, he’ll manage his time a bit better. You wonder if that’ll mean you get to spend more time with him while Wooyoung is taking care of things that would usually dig into his free time. As if Yunho knows you’re thinking about him, his eyes find yours while Wooyoung is taking his seat at the front of the class. Something about the ambiguous gaze he gives you when others are around makes you itch for his attention even more than normal. He doesn’t ever fail at making it look natural, like he could be looking at anyone for nothing in particular. Those little moments keep things fun.
The answer to your previous queries would end up being that, yes, this was something Yunho chose himself. When presented with an opportunity for a student specializing in his major to offer assistance after being accepted into the Work-Study program later than most, of course he said yes. San had been telling him since he began working at the university last semester that he should take on a TA while he got acclimated to teaching, but Yunho had convinced himself that he could do it all on his own. While Yunho had been pretty open about how terrible his workload was, considering he has 3 class sections, he was never completely honest with you about how much stress this caused him on a day-to-day basis. 
He was excited that this would free up some of his previously stolen time and take some pressure off of his shoulders. He was also looking forward to being able to spend some of that newly open time with you, especially. That’s why when you unknowingly throw a wrench into those intentions before leaving his class Friday, he has a hard time keeping the dejection he feels from showing on his face. 
“It might be a while before we’re able to hang out again,” you sigh, “Midterms are stressing me out but I don’t want to psych myself out right before I graduate—”
“____,” Yunho places his hand on your head tenderly, silencing your rambling in the kindest way he can. He doesn’t like seeing you so stressed out. “Focus on yourself and do your best, okay? Don’t lose sight of the finish line. Being prepared and passing is much more important than us seeing each other.”
You gaze up at him with some of the prettiest dispirited eyes he’s ever seen. How is he supposed to remain selfless when you look like this? Of course, he’d love to be selfish and fill your time; he knows you’re a smart girl so you’d have nothing to worry about for his midterm at least. He’d take care of it. Nevertheless, you’re still a student of others as well, and he has to extinguish that greed as fast as it ignites.
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Of course, pretty. You know where to find me whenever you’re ready,” he smiles and gives your cheek a teasing pinch before opening the lecture hall’s door, “See you next Wednesday.”
As expected, two weeks of studying and taking tests consume your entire schedule. Yunho is not much better, and he’s consistently cursing at himself for making the test he gave out to all of his sections so long. Even though he wants to truly know if his students understand all the material thus far, he forgets how time-consuming making the test so extensive can be for him as well. Having Wooyoung around helps quite a bit, even though he feels slightly guilty for putting such a large amount on him when he becomes overwhelmed. Wooyoung never complains though, so Yunho is grateful to have gotten a TA who actually does the work and does it well. During this time, you both try to keep regular contact, offering words of encouragement to each other and discussing what you should do to celebrate when you get your passing grades back. 
Directly following the end of midterms week is the weekend before Halloween. Jongho had sent out a text the week prior that he was holding a party at his parent’s rental house, which is currently unoccupied for the season. The man had friends from several different circles because he was involved in many different extracurriculars outside of his studies, so you were certain this party was going to be fairly large.
Naturally, as best friends do, you and Yeosang decide to wear matching costumes for his party. Procrastination had gotten the best of you both with midterms added into the mix, however, and the best thing the two of you were able to come up with before the weekend was a sexy nurse and doctor duo. Simple, but effective.
You both rode along with Hongjoong, who had chosen to be the designated driver for the evening. It’s uncomfortably brisk outside, too brisk to be dressed like you are; however, upon opening the door, you can barely get two steps into the property before Jongho stops everyone in their tracks. His hands hold out exactly what you knew would be coming before even arriving at the house. It’s Jongho’s signature thing.
“You know the rules,” he says with that mischievous smile of his you know too well. 
You must take one tequila shot to be admitted past the door.
All three of you quickly take the shot glasses from your host and toss them back without even giving cheers. The burn of alcohol and the robust taste of bitter poison stains your tongue. It hurts a little on the throat on the way down and you salivate to adjust to the pain, immediately making a face of disgust. 
“God, it never gets easier,” you cough.
“I’ll grab you something easier,” he laughs while rubbing your back, “Same flavor as usual?”
“Please and thank you.”
As promised, he comes back with two bottles of honeydew melon soju in tow and some fresh shot glasses. It doesn’t take too many heavy-handed shots before laughs and giggles begin to bubble up in your throat for no real reason. You forgot that you didn’t put anything on your stomach before leaving the house, and it’s becoming very apparent every time you feel your head shoot up to outer space and come back down just as quickly. That’s a non-issue though because Jongho’s catered this party with enough food to feed a small village. Anyone watching you stuffing your face with Halloween-themed carbs and sweets is the last thing on your mind. Round two of shots is followed by the intense feeling of needing to dance. Even while intoxicated, you’re perceptive enough to notice various sets of eyes on you whilst dancing with your friends. Every so often, an owner of a set will make his way over and try to chat you up. Like clockwork, you say the same thing to every new person:
Sorry, I’m not single.
You say this sentence so many times in the span of an hour that it begins to feel real. Then again, isn’t it already? As far as you’re concerned, you were spoken for until Yunho said otherwise. You wonder if he feels the same about himself... When you start having a small internal existential crisis about whether Yunho thinks the same, that’s when you know you’re approaching your limit for the night. You step away to grab some water and begin the process of flushing your body. When you make it back to your circle, things have changed. Mingi, with his girlfriend in tow, lets everyone know that they’re going to find a private room before taking off up the stairs of the house. You know it’s irrational and probably motivated by the alcohol in your system, but you can't help but feel jealous that they can do something like that so easily. If you could see Yunho and drag him to a room anytime you were horny, you’re sure a lot of your life’s problems would be solved.
The moment they’re gone, Hongjoong leans in and quickly lets you know he’s also going upstairs to join some other acquaintances in karaoke. You’re just about to panic until Yeosang tugs on your arm to beckon for your attention.
“Going to the bathroom if you want to join,” he leans in and proposes, “I really need to pee.”
Everyone seems to have wanted to go their separate ways, but he’d never leave you alone all by your lonesome. And especially not with alcohol in your system. You grab onto his hand with a nod and let him lead you through hoards of people to the closest bathroom. Luckily, it’s empty and there’s no wait. It’s not long before you’re both locked away from the sound of music thumping from behind the door. While you search through your pockets for your lipgloss for reapplication, Yeosang jets for the toilet.
“I’m drained,” you mutter, “Being bombarded by strangers.”
“You showed up to the party looking like that and expected not to catch some eyes?”
He’s right, honestly. The red and white romper you’re wearing leaves nothing much to the imagination with the way your asscheeks are hanging out of the bottom or the way your breasts are squished together at the top. Your makeup and hair, your stockings and heels, everything just exudes pure sex appeal. All topped off with a little hat and a play syringe you’ve been using occasionally for “alcohol shots”. To be fair, your friend group mainly consisted of men, and many men found it intimidating to approach you with them always surrounding you in settings such as this. People must be feeling especially bold tonight with as much alcohol being drunk, you muse. He giggles to himself because he knows that typically you’d entertain some of the suitors for fun, but you seem devoted to the one man on your mind these days. 
“Bet you didn’t send your boyfriend a picture of your costume though, huh?” Yeosang teases, slurred words morphing into a laugh as he finally pulls down his pants. The subsequent sound of him peeing draws a laugh from you.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you scoff and nudge him in the back. He nearly loses his footing. 
“Stop, you're gonna make pee go everywhere!” How he is even still peeing with such ferocity is beyond you. This doesn’t stop him from adding in quickly, “I dare you to show him. It’s only fair, right?”
Alcohol-induced pride is something dangerous, but you’re never one to back down from a dare, even when sober. While he’s finishing up, you find your text thread with Yunho and send him the image you and Yeosang had taken together at the beginning of the party.
[Y/N: 1 image]
[Y/N: Matchingg with my besssttieee]
Coincidentally, Yunho is home and lonesomely watching YouTube videos when his phone pings. Oh wow…
He replies with several texts in a minute—one making sure to compliment you both, but the rest shamelessly thirsting over the way your costume is so lewd. Many other men may have made passes at you and offered plenty of flattery throughout the night, but none of them could make you get flustered as much as Yunho. This is the only man you care about hearing compliments from, the only man whose words matter. Maybe it’s that last bottle of soju making you so confident, but your hands move faster than your brain.
“Don’t turn around just yet,” you tell Yeosang quickly before pulling up your camera. You unzip your romper enough to pull one of your breasts out fully, squeezing it teasingly with one hand while the other takes a quick selfie. It’s a tad blurry, but it’ll do its job. After fixing yourself just as quickly, you give Yeosang the okay so he can wash his hands.
[Y/N: 1 invisible ink image]
[Y/N: Would you let me stick you???]
When he gets this notification, Yunho stares down at his throbbing cock already in his hand and laughs. He was already turned on enough by the other picture to pull it out from his sweatpants, but this? He’s usually not one to send nudes, but good God, he wants nothing more than for you to see exactly what you’re doing to him right now. Against his better judgment, he does just that.
[Yunho: 1 invisible ink image]
[Yunho: only if you let me reciprocate after]
When you uncover the picture, your breath catches in your throat: his hand is firmly wrapped around his aching, flushed cock. It looks as though he’s already been stroking himself eagerly, the way it’s glossy with lubricant and an angry shade of red. God, the things you would do to have him pick you up from this party and let you fuck him to your heart's content… Even though that could never happen, a girl can dream, so you decide you have to tell him exactly what’s on your mind. Yeosang’s too drunk to do his job of taking away your phone while you’re so many drinks deep. 
“Ready to go back?” Your best friend asks while drying his hands.
Holding your phone tight against your chest for privacy, you sputter, “Do you mind giving me a few minutes alone? I won’t be too long, promise.”
Yunho’s shocked when he sees your name come up on his phone for a call. He was beginning to get slightly nervous when you failed to respond to his attempt at sexting, but that didn’t stop him from staring at your photos and feverishly stroking his cock in the meantime.
“Hello?”
“Hello there, handsome,” you giggle, and Yunho immediately hears the intoxicated tremor laced in your words. 
“Having a fun night?” He asks with a laugh of his own, trying to refrain from breathing too heavily into the phone every time he squeezes his leaking tip with a little extra pressure. 
You’re too drunk to realize what he’s doing anyway, and you unknowingly feed into his journey toward an orgasm when you outright say, “Yes but… I want you so bad right now, Yu.”
Yunho’s breath nearly catches in his throat, and his face flushes bashfully as his hand glides faster up and down his cock.
His voice trembles a bit when he replies, “I wish I could make that happen for you, angel.”
“Well… you wanna know what I’d do if I was there?” You push further, closing your eyes and tuning out everything outside the door to focus on Yunho alone. He agrees promptly, head kicking back as he closes his eyes in the same way, tuning in solely to your voice. “Been wanting to ride you so bad lately. Keep imagining the way you’d sound when I bounce up and down in your lap… You make the prettiest noises, Yu, I swear.”
He physically swallows any of those aforementioned pretty noises trying to manifest in his throat, burying them deep in his chest before he responds with the only thing his brain can manifest.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, but…” You lower your voice to a whisper, “Do you think I could make you cum all by myself, like no help?”
Yunho is so close, he can barely hold himself together.
“I bet you could. Just seeing you feel good while using my dick would be enough to, honestly.”
The tiny drunken giggle that tumbles from your lips goes straight to his heart, “I say we test that out then.”
“Just let me know when you want to and I’ll be more than ready,” he assures you, accidentally punctuating that sentence with a soft, “ Fuck .”
“____, Jongho’s looking for us,” Yeosang calls out through the door. “They’re about to play a drinking game or something.”
For some reason, the knowledge that you’re talking so filthy like this while anyone on the other side of the door could perhaps hear you pushes him over the edge. With his phone on his chest, Yunho presses a tight hand over his mouth to suppress any noise threatening to come out, instead heavily breathing through his nostrils as spurts of cum sully his abdomen.
You sigh, “My liver is being summoned, gotta go. Bye-bye, handsome.”
The call ends before Yunho can even open his mouth to reply, but that’s fine because he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to come up with a coherent sentence anyway. He settles for dazedly texting you to let him know when you get home safely. The long and uncomfortably hot shower he takes to wash away the filth from his mind and his body leaves him feeling oddly refreshed. It might be because he hasn’t had a conversation with you not relating to the stresses of the previous weeks up until today. It’s silly that something so depraved ended up being the product, but God, does it feel fresh and exhilarating.
Now that midterm season was over and a good amount of grading had been taken off of his hands by taking on a TA, Yunho found himself with enough time on his hands to give his place a good cleaning. If he’s being completely honest with himself, he’s doing this to give himself more confidence in inviting you over again. It had been some time since he last had you there, but that was partially due to the treacherous state that it was in currently. You had been free from midterms for a week now, there were no excuses as to why he couldn’t spend private time with you in his place. The perfect opportunity arose directly after he accomplished his goal, when you mentioned in passing that you were one assignment away from being able to go out.
“How about you come do your work at my place instead?” he had offered, “I’ll order us dinner and we can relax together afterward.”
It didn’t take much convincing for you to end up on his doorstep half an hour later with your backpack slung over your shoulder. You’re so beautiful when you’re done up, there’s no denying that, but there’s something about you when you’re dressed so comfortably casual that makes Yunho get heart palpitations. When you look like that while lounging at his kitchen table, hands typing away at God knows what assignment, it just feels so domestic to him. You look like you belong there. He tries not to stare too much and gives you your space to work though, busying himself with some random medical show he pays no real mind to on Netflix while lying on his couch. Quite some time later, he hears you let out a hefty aggravated sigh. 
“Words are starting to blend together,” you murmur while rubbing your eyes. “Hate when this happens.”
“Take a break then, beautiful. Come sit with me?”
It started off innocent, it really did. 
Sitting curled up under Yunho’s arm in his lap has now entered the top ranks on your list of favorite positions to be in. It’s soothing, the way his fingers play with the frayed strings of your pants in between rubbing calming circles into your tense muscles. If you weren’t careful, you’re sure this man could lull you to sleep.
“I didn’t know you liked doctor shows,” you mumble against his chest. 
“I don’t,” he laughs, “I figured the girl who dressed up as a sexy nurse over the weekend would be interested.”
“Oh hush, you know Halloween is for foolishness.”
But, upon entering a conversation about Halloween, it leads to a conversation about your photo exchange. Yunho has been meaning to ask if he’s allowed to save that image for obvious reasons. Aside from it being sent while you were intoxicated, he also wants to be respectful about deleting it if need be. You reassure him that it’s okay for him to keep and use it whenever he likes, as you do not doubt in your mind he’d never let something like that slip from between you both. That’s when the phone call also comes up.
“Are you usually that horny when you’re intoxicated?” Yunho inquires, “Calling me up and talking like that was surprising.”
You sit up immediately, “I called you? You’re lying…”
“You don’t remember?” His brows hitch in surprise. 
“No, I don’t recall that at all,” you gaze back at him, dumbfounded, “What did I say?”
“Nothing much,” he lies, but he knows you’d never take that as an answer. Especially not when his cheeks are dusted in pink at you even asking.
“Please, tell me!” You nearly plead, “Oh God, was it embarrassing?”
“You really want to know that badly?”
The innocent nod you give him makes him give in. He remains focused on the TV to prevent himself from becoming too sheepish by looking into your eyes while recounting such words. Yunho is a bit more conservative with his words as he recalls your remarks about riding him. He’s unable to go into as much detail as you did of course, he doesn’t want to work himself up just thinking about it; moreover, he can’t even say some parts without fleeting thoughts of how he already jacked off simply to your voice telling him such things. It’s embarrassing to him how he lacks willpower when it comes to you, he’s a grown man for Christ’s sake. To be fair, you’re not much help. He doesn’t even notice how you’re toying with his sweatpants’ strings while he talks. When he finally tears his eyes from the TV and meets yours, the gaze you share has you finally moving from your spot.
Who knew Yunho’s living room couch was so comfortable on the knees? Surely not you, until yours are digging into it while you straddle his waist. It’s hard to focus on the way his lips are devouring your neck while his hands are simultaneously frisking every inch of your body he can reach. You don’t know at what point during the last minute you ended up with your joggers thrown a few feet away on the floor, or when he ended up with his sweatpants and underwear pooled around his feet. He can’t focus on anything else but the feeling of your bare cunt sliding back and forth over his cock, watching you teasingly smear your slick all over him with his mouth hung open. He can only take but so much of watching you work him up before he finally peers up into your eyes.
“God, you’re way too good at being a tease,” he sighs as he leans up to ghost his lips over yours. You can feel his little gasps every time you apply a little more of your weight on top of his painfully hard cock. He’s a patient man though, so he doesn’t mind letting you toy with him for however long your heart desires, “I’m not in a rush.”
“Maybe I’m just waiting for you to remind me how to fit it in me,” you joke, gasping as his hands busy themselves by massaging your sensitive breasts under your sports bra, “It's been a while since the last time, you know?”
The raspy laugh he lets out hits you right in your core, and even more so when he says, “You’re a very smart and capable girl, I know you can do it all by yourself.” 
The way he enunciates the last three words makes your core throb. When you finally lift your hips to wrap your hands around his length, his hands move from your breasts to your waist for support. You give him a few gentle pumps before lining him up with your sopping entrance. 
“There you go,” he encourages when you push yourself open on his tip with a needy moan.
You slide down his shaft gradually, inch by inch until you’re fully seated. The deep, shaky exhale you let out against Yunho’s neck makes him chuckle because you’re such a trooper even without any prep beforehand. 
“Give me a second.”
“Want some help?” He asks genuinely, massaging the plush of your thighs and chuckling when he feels you clench at the offer. 
He’d lay you down and take care of things himself if you wanted him to, as he’s never one to deny a pillow princess being the service dom he typically is. To his surprise, you begin moving your hips, lifting and sliding back down at a casual pace. His head kicks back and he sighs at the feeling of your warm walls swallowing him in and pushing him out, over and over. You can’t keep in the sounds of pure need and arousal that spill from your lips every time you feel his cock curve up and prod against that spot that makes your stomach do flips. When the sting from the initial stretch subsides, every glide feels breathtaking. You keep your head buried in his neck to focus on your hip movements instead, gasping and moaning in time with every sound of your ass striking his thighs.
You were right, he thinks, it had been quite some time since you both slept together that night of your first real date. Yunho’s been dreaming about that pretty cunt of yours since then—nearly daily—unable to match the feeling of the way you squeeze him with his hand, especially during the nights he works himself up enough to where he needs release. He didn’t want to seem too brazen or shamefully horny by reaching out and asking if he could show you more of what he could accomplish with that cock of his buried inside you, the sounds he wants to try and evoke. Nevertheless, he doesn’t want you to think that’s something that matters the most to him. 
Admittedly, the general nerves regarding your extracurricular activities with each other had subsided after the Halloween stint. Yunho gained a lot of confidence after that night. He previously felt guilty during midterm weeks because, even after he had expressly told you to focus on yourself, he was also so sure that there was plenty of midterm stress he could’ve helped you relieve, and vice versa. In many, many ways. Regardless, he decided to let sex with you occur naturally instead, such as last time. It was worth the wait though, if the way his teeth are sinking so deep into his bottom lip to stop himself from whimpering at this pleasure is anything to go by. 
“Fuck, mhm, just like that baby,” he hisses when you arch your back and begin rolling your hips against him, “Really gonna make me cum all by yourself, huh? Knew you were ambitious, angel.”
You feel yourself nearly gush with every word. This can’t be the same man who stands in front of you twice a week and talks about semantics, right? On the opposite end, how is he supposed to maintain any composure when the sounds of your sopping wet cunt sucking him in so easily are now battling the TV? Your arousal is so loud and it’s driving him crazy. He tends to firmly pinch at the meat of your bouncing ass and chuckle every time it elicits a helpless yelp from your throat, only to keep his antsy hands busy. Still, he makes an effort to let you do things by yourself, as you expressed.
“Yu?” you whimper into his skin a moment later, and he grunts to let you know he’s listening even if his mind is foggy with lust, “I wanna kiss you.”
Yunho’s heart nearly bursts out of his chest, cheeks flushing at how innocent the request is. His hand tenderly grabs you by the chin and leads your mouth to his while murmuring, “Stop hiding then, sweetheart.”
Time and time again, you’re reminded about how good of a kisser he is. There’s something addicting about the way he loves intertwining tongues and doesn’t care about being messy that turns you on to the highest degree. You can feel heat prickle over every inch of your skin when he pulls back your bottom lip with his teeth. When you begin to bounce faster and grow more eager to cum, Yunho’s hands finally grab underneath either cheek of your ass and begin to help you, hips rutting up in time with every quick hop of you on his cock. It doesn’t take long before his breathing becomes ragged, his own orgasm nearing, and you both break the kiss to gasp for air. Your hands grip onto his biceps when you feel your legs starting to give out from fatigue.
“I’m sorry I–”
“You can relax, sweetheart,” he pants, “Just a little more, I’ve got you.”
Yunho wraps his arms around your back, holding you steady and spreading his legs a bit farther apart before taking over and pistoning his hips into yours. The frenzied babbles of his name in his ear make his eyes roll to the ceiling. Your orgasm blindsides you entirely, hitting you right after a particularly sinful thrust directly into your G-spot. There's no time to indulge in the way you’re making some of the most euphoric sounds he’s ever heard himself pull from a woman because the feeling of your walls contracting and convulsing around his cock gives him the final push to finish himself. Right before he lets go, he lifts you off of his cock with strong arms and cum paints his t-shirt a few seconds later. 
“I say we go take a shower…” Yunho begins tentatively, reworking his thoughts after you both are breathing calmly again, “And then, we can order some food because I’m honestly starving. What do you say?”
“And where does finishing my assignment come in, hm?” You pinch his cheek.
“Ugh, you’re right…” he groans, “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time before the food is delivered, right?”
“I’m not even looking at that food until my work is done, and I mean i—” Your voice clips off when he suddenly stands to his feet with you maintained in his arms. 
“That shower isn’t going to run itself then,” he counters, lips tugging into a large smile as he happily strides towards his bedroom with you in tow.
Yunho had informed you beforehand that this next week was going to be a busy one for him, induced by training workshops the university decided to spring upon a few colleges. The Dean of his particular college thought that it was a good idea to shove all necessary sessions into the first week of November. He apologizes multiple times every time he thinks about it. You know he shouldn’t have to ever explain his business to you—he’s doing his job as a teacher, which comes first and foremost—but it’s nice that he considers you when his schedule is in conversation. You tell him time and time again that he shouldn’t concern himself with what you may or may not feel about his unavailability. He was nothing but patient with you during midterms, and you were more than happy to reciprocate that now that the time has come. 
The first day you have class with him that week, you choose to stick back while everyone else is bustling to get out of the door. It doesn’t take longer than a couple of minutes for the room to completely empty, save for you and your teacher. Normally, his eyes would light up noticing such a thing, but today he seems to be drowning in fatigue with the way his face doesn’t even budge. That doesn’t stop you from heading to his podium with tentative steps while he pulls on his blazer and packs up to continue his schedule.
“Got a minute?”
“For you? Always,” he hums without even looking up. He’s in the middle of shoving the last of his things in his briefcase when you hold up a tied-up plastic bag that catches his attention.
“I know you have a loaded day, so I brought you lunch,” you break the news before he can question it. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but you’re sure it’ll be enjoyable to eat regardless. “Just wanted to save you from having to make an extra stop across campus.”
“You’re amazing, ____,” Yunho utters in a soft voice before taking the bag from you carefully. He’s having a hard time mustering up any kind of physical joy today so he hopes that, for now, his words can at least convey what he’s failing to provide otherwise, “I know it doesn’t look like it but I really do appreciate this. Thank you.”
“You seem tense today,” you point out while moving to join him on his side of the podium. “Did something happen?”
The lecture hall’s doors don’t have any slit windows for prying eyes, so you reach up and rub a comforting hand over the back of his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs. If there’s anyone’s touch that could cure his problems, he’s sure it’s yours. Still, he doesn’t want to make himself too comfortable with the location you’re in.
“You wouldn’t believe how many things are going wrong today. I also have to meet with the head of my department for a performance evaluation based on the midterm grades. Everyone generally did very well but,” Yunho massages the bridge of his nose to help collect his thoughts before continuing, “It’s only my second semester, so the impression I’m making with these kinds of things is very important. I know I have nothing to be worried about but it’s hard not to be anxious.”
“Making yourself sick with stress isn’t going to help either,” you remind him.
“I know, I know. I’m just ready for this week to be over.”
“Maybe we should go out of town again this weekend,” you muse, hand moving to squeeze his shoulder affectionately, “I saw online some fall festivals are happening that might be fun to check out. I remember you saying you’ve never been to one.”
He peers down at you, lips splitting into his first genuine grin of the day, “She takes notes in and out of the classroom, how cute.”
“Only when it comes to you. What do you say?”
There’s a knock on the doors, but before Yunho can muster any words to answer it, the owner comes in anyway. Upon entering in a huff, Wooyoung stops dead in his tracks. His eyes flicker between the two of you before he hitches a brow. You offer him a mild-mannered smile and pull your hand away from Yunho’s shoulder slowly so as not to seem suspicious.
“Good afternoon Wooyoung,” Yunho says so naturally, though you’re groaning in your head, “Did you need something from me?”
You know it’s ridiculous of you, but you’re starting to envy Yunho’s TA. Recently, you’ve come to realize that you hate how Wooyoung gets an immense amount of time interacting with Yunho daily, but it’s still never enough. There’s always something more he needs. You get it, he’s technically an employee to make your teacher’s life easier. That’s something you should be cheering on, right? Deep down, in the most selfish part of your mind, you’re just tired of people always interrupting and interfering in the minimal amount of time you have with Yunho on campus, even unknowingly. 
“I remembered I had some questions about your grading criteria for the recent essay that I needed some clarification on before leaving,” he says, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker at you briefly, “But if you’re busy…”
“He’s not. We just finished chatting about what’s due next class,” you answer for Yunho instead, much to his dismay. He notices the tone change in your voice, but as much as he’d like to resolve that, he can only watch you grab your bag. He’s slow to catch himself frowning before fixing his face in front of his TA. While slipping past the younger gentleman to finally leave, you make sure to call out, “See you Friday, Mr. Jeong.”
It takes everything in you to not give Wooyoung the finger to the back of his head, but you decide it’s best not to let such things aggravate you. Again, Yunho is a teacher and this is part of his job. You shouldn’t be so angry at his assistant for doing what he needs to do to make his life easier.
You and your linguist do end up leaving the area again that weekend to attend a festival together. This particular town is covered in thick colorful trees that have yet to lose their leaves. Along with the overwhelming smells over different smells of various food carts and so many people laughing in enjoyment, the entire scene does a number on Yunho’s brain. It scratches a deep itch he didn’t realize he had. Playing little games with you for prizes makes him realize he hasn’t had this kind of fun in quite a long time. 
Yunho’s shocked with himself when he asks if you both can take a selfie together in front of all the colorful leaves before leaving for the day. He’s been thinking about something like this for quite some time, a bit dispirited by not being able to savor memories in pictures like everyone else can. Realistically, he knows he really shouldn’t be offering such blatant evidence of your romance to be left on either of your phones. Texts can easily be manipulated and argued, but selfies with you both in them don’t lie. These kinds of thoughts still nag at him in the back of his head even while he puts on this goofy grin, chin affectionately sitting atop your shoulder as he snaps his first photo with you ever. He wishes he could put something like this as his wallpaper. Even if he could, in a world where peeping eyes weren’t an issue, he wonders if that would be too much. Do you like the people you’re involved with to be that mushy? 
He doesn’t have the luxury of overthinking about these things for too long before you’re pinching his cheek to bring him back to reality. Reluctantly, Yunho decides to let his brain rest and focus on the rest of the time he has left with you. He’s unable to stay the night or do anything intimate that evening because of prior obligations taking up the rest of his night, but that doesn’t stop him from boldly leaning over his center console and surprising you with a slow, romantic kiss while parked right in front of your complex. He knows he should care, but he can’t find it in himself to be bothered with the risks when he just wants to show you that he appreciates you helping him relax today before he has to depart. You hear him loud and clear.
The following week, Seonghwa finds himself seeking out Yunho’s office after packing up for the day. Yunho’s thumbing at his phone’s keyboard when the courtesy knocks come and nearly scare him, but grants permission to enter. 
“I thought you’d be gone by now,” Seonghwa marvels when he finds his friend still perched in his office chair. “Your classes are usually over early on Thursdays, no?”
“I had to rework my syllabus and switch modules around because of some issues getting through lectures last week. Completely slipped my mind that I still needed to revise my lesson plans and slides for tomorrow until this morning,” Yunho sighs, “If I go home it’s definitely not getting done, so I have to stay.”
His friend surveys the ways his cheeks are slightly flushed as he glances back down at his phone briefly and tries to type something quickly. Sure, it could be from frustration or exhaustion caused by his tasks for the evening, but something seems different in the way he’s fidgeting in his chair. 
“Who’s the lucky lady?” Seonghwa inquires out of the blue, causing Yunho to lift his eyes from his phone abruptly. He offers a knowing smirk when Yunho’s brows furrowed in confusion, “You’re smiling a lot more these days— kinda glowing. Seems like you finally made it out of the dry spell and got laid.”
Yunho subconsciously tucks his phone in his lap, unconsciously confirming Seonghwa’s suspicions.
“Nobody special,” he replies, finding this white lie to be more suitable than lying outright, “Nothing much I can say.”
“Well, where’d you meet her? You don’t talk to anyone when we go out anymore so it couldn’t have been at the bar.”
Yunho hesitates for a brief moment before saying the first thing that comes to his mind, “Tinder.”
“I thought you deleted that app a while ago,” Seonghwa’s brows crease.
“I redownloaded it a while ago out of boredom,” Yunho explains quickly. He knows he’s not the best liar, but there is quite literally no way he’s going to tell his friend the truth about this situation whatsoever. Now, he almost wishes he had just fully lied at the start.
“And you can’t tell me more about a Tinder match?”
“I just–”
“I’d understand if I was San, but someone you can’t even tell me about?” Seonghwa jokes, but Yunho can tell this question is not entirely unserious. 
He understands where his friend is coming from. Their relationship runs a bit deeper than Yunho’s with the third addition to their friendship, even though all three are nearly brothers now considering the years they’ve been friends. There’s never been something that Yunho hasn’t been able to come to him about, and they’re both generally always open with anything between each other. Needless to say, Seonghwa always knows when something is off.
“It’s not like that Hwa, just that it’s nobody worth discussing,” Yunho insists, “Who knows where it’ll lead, you know? I’ll let you know if it goes anywhere.”
Seonghwa’s eyes linger on him for a few extra seconds before he simply hums in acceptance. There’s a particular look in his eyes as he sips his water bottle briefly, though.
“Alright... I’ll leave you with these words, though,” he begins, and his voice is earnest. The one he usually uses with Yunho when he needs some tough love. “You’ve worked hard to be where you’re at now. Be careful brother, okay?”
Yunho maintains a fairly neutral expression when he nods, careful to neither confirm nor deny Seonghwa’s thoughts, whatever they may be. Seonghwa is perceptive but surely he’d never pin Yunho as the type to have gotten involved with a student. At least, he hopes.
“You finished for today?” Yunho asks while Seonghwa searches for his keys in his pockets.
“Yeah, thank God.” When he finally finds his keys, he adds, “Don’t work yourself too hard and stay too late, ‘kay?”
Yunho assures him that he definitely won’t, and they both exchange goodbyes before he finally departs the room. He’s pretty sure that he should be the only teacher left on his side of the building in their office right now. He finally brings his phone out of his lap and shoots out the text he was in the process of sending before his friend entered his office.
[Yunho: are you almost done for the day?]
[Y/N: I’m walking to our lot now actually. Everything okay?]
Fuck. Yunho feels bad for summoning you like this on short notice but he can’t take it anymore. His mind has been thinking about one thing all day, and if it doesn’t get taken care of now he might go insane.
[Yunho: if you’re not too far can you come to my office..?]
[Yunho: pls]
You cease your walking, redirect yourself towards his side of campus, quickly typing back to let him know you’re on your way. You don’t get to see him that often, so you’d never deny the opportunity to make that happen. On your venture back to the building, you end up crossing paths with Seonghwa while he’s on his way to the parking lot to head home. The ambiguous glint in his eyes as you both acknowledge each other in passing doesn’t strike you as unusual, but you do take notice. 
The building is fairly empty when you enter, which isn’t surprising for the time of day. You take your time going up the elevator and striding to his office since it didn’t seem like this request was an emergency. You also figure it’s fine to enter outright since he specifically requested you to come immediately, but the door is locked upon turning the handle.
“Mr. Jeong?”
You use formalities after you knock just to be on the safe side; you’re not entirely sure who could be hanging around this late. Moreover, maybe he’s locked the door because he’s meeting with someone else briefly before you. Before you can even unlock your phone to text him and make sure he still needs you before leaving, you hear the door’s lock click open. He opens it a second later, enough for you to enter.
“Never seen you lock your door before.” You’re more preoccupied with shoving your phone in the side pocket of your bag as you enter to notice anything off. “Something happen?”
“I’m really sorry, I just didn’t want anyone else seeing me like this,” he explains quickly. 
You’re just about to ask him what he means, but Yunho doesn’t give you much of a chance to get too far before he circles his arms around your waist and swoops down to capture your lips. It’s an immensely needy kiss, one you’ve never received from him before. Unintentionally, when the aching boner in his pants brushes against you, he releases a soft groan into your mouth– Oh! The sound of him locking the door sends a chill down your back. 
You manage to pull away from him and laugh, brows furrowed in confusion, “Excuse me, have you forgotten where we are?”
“My colleagues are already gone for the day,” he reasons while walking you backward over to his desk. His face is flushed as he implores, “I need you to do me a favor, okay?”
“Of course,” you nod quickly, gazing up at him with expectant eyes. Why does he look so…desperate?
This moment doesn’t feel entirely real. You’re becoming increasingly wet just thinking about the things you could do now that you two were alone in his office if what he says is true. You’ve both exchanged plenty of fleeting, amicable touches when out in public, ones that not many would think twice about, but you’ve never tried something like this when you’re still on campus. Yunho fails to finish his request, too captivated with peppering your neck in wet open-mouthed kisses while he physically coaxes you to sit on his desk. You have on a skirt today, and he’s so thankful not to have to deal with the extra work of pulling off jeans.
“What do you want me to do, Yu? I’ll do anything,” you insist and wrap your arms around his neck, beckoning for his attention, “Just tell me.” 
When he stares directly into your eyes, trying to gain enough courage to speak, you reiterate once more that he can ask you for anything.
“I want you to let me go down on you,” he finally spits out before sitting back into the chair you usually sit in when visiting. 
“But… Right now? Here?”
“If you’re comfortable,” he adds.
It takes a few seconds for the words to fully sink in, and you hesitate briefly before lifting your skirt against your stomach and begin lying back. Yunho scoots his chair forward with an immense amount of anticipation building in his chest; he wasn’t sure earlier if this would take more convincing, but he’s grateful it didn’t.
“That’s really all?” Your brows crease while propping yourself up on your elbows to gaze down at him inquisitively. 
Your confusion makes him chuckle. For someone so good with words any other time, he surely has some trouble expressing himself well when it comes to you most times. Today, though, he decides to let his desires spill freely. He gets ahead of himself and licks a warm strip up your panties, briefly tasting the arousal that’s creating such a big wet spot in the seat of the garment.
“I don’t think you understand ____,” Yunho begins, voice low as he pulls your panties down your legs. The rise and fall of his chest quickens with excitement once you’re bare and spread open by his hands. “Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about doing this again for the longest time.”
“Eating my pussy?” He nods hastily, pressing searing kisses onto the insides of your thighs. “Why didn’t you just ask?”
He sighs when you run your hand through his hair, coy eyes gazing up at you from between your thighs, “I didn’t want to be too forward about it. How do I properly beg you to suffocate me?” 
“Just like that,” you laugh, but that’s cut abruptly by him roughly yanking you by your thighs closer to his face. As much as he’d love to entertain the rest of this conversation, he’s too impatient when you’re laid out in front of him like this, all wet and ready for his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks another long stripe upward, the initial taste making him sigh. The breathy moan you let fly at the brief contact makes his dick twitch in his pants.
“Been touching myself to the thought of these thighs around my head,” he admits, repeating the action but putting a little extra attention on your clit, “I was so hard today that I couldn't even stand up during my last lecture. You did that.” 
You would crack a teasing joke about Wooyoung having to do his job for him, but any words lingering in your head are stolen the moment Yunho buries his face in your cunt, nose prodding at your clit. He licks and laps messily at your heat like some famished gentlemen consuming a meal for the first time in days. The obscenities that spill from your lips amongst cute, helpless whines only make him nod his head. He wants you to learn—good and well—that this is something he’s self-admittedly very talented at and always ready to do if you ever find it within yourself to ask him. If you didn’t learn that the first time he briefly ate you out, you sure were going to learn now. Yunho’s tongue finds itself buried as far as he can manage in your hole, pushing in and out and savoring the way you taste. 
Your hands fly to your mouth because, even if Yunho is sure that you both are alone, you still don’t want the sound of you falling apart on his tongue seeping through the door with the way you’re progressively getting louder. He doesn’t mind you suppressing yourself, he’s set on filling the silence himself. The sounds of him slurping and sucking and kissing are so loud when bouncing against the walls of his small office.
“I love the taste of you,” he groans against your heat, sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt. You gasp and go to close your legs, to move away instinctively, but Yunho is too quick. His fingertips dig deep into the meat of your thighs as he makes an effort to keep them open, refusing to let you squirm away. “Let me finish this time,” he says, voice stern and brows furrowed.
God, that commanding voice he rarely uses could make you cum on the spot. Embarrassment flushes your face when you feel a new wave of arousal from those words gush and drip down your skin. He’s not going to let any of that go to waste though, sparing no time getting back to his ministrations. You don’t even realize that after a while you’ve begun to grind yourself against his face. He feels like he’s in heaven, his hands pulling and encouraging your hips forward as if silently saying yeah, keep going, just like that.
When he feels your legs become more tense, he decides to thrust two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt and latch his mouth onto your clit, set on abusing that spot inside of you that will finally give him exactly what he wants. He ignores the ache in his jaw because every yelp and whimper spilling from your lips spurs his endurance until he finally hears his favorite words.
“Y-Yu, m’gonna cum,” you sputter before he feels your thighs close in over his head. He doesn’t mind this time, this is right where he wants to be when you tip over anyway. 
Yunho lets out one last groan of his own onto your clit before he feels your legs go rigid, a signal he knows well now. Your back arches off the desk and he indulges in the feeling of you bucking against his face. He swallows everything you have to give him, mouth open and jaw slack as you tremble through your orgasm. It takes you what feels like forever to let go of his head, not like he’s complaining. When your legs go limp, Yunho slumps back in the chair with a huff. He’d get lock-jaw multiple times a week eating you out if you let him. He supposes this is something he should suggest eventually.
“You’re so hot, it’s unbelievable,” he heaves, staring at the mess he’s made of your cunt. There’s slick and cum and spit and everything in between ruining his desk, but he can’t find it in himself to care about the cleanup right now. When you’re finally able to sit up and breathe properly, he grins at you with that messy mouth of his, “Thank you, seriously.”
“Let me give you head too,” you offer eagerly, though you’re not even sure your knees are strong enough for that right now. To your surprise, Yunho shakes his head. “Please, I want to reciprocate!”
“You don’t have to,” he replies instead, finally fully gaining his breath back. The pout prominent on your face could make him melt into a puddle, he feels so bad but…
“But you deserve to cum too—”
“I… did already, ____,” he divulges and bashfully covers his face before you can see his cheeks flush with heat. You slowly glance down at his crotch and your eyes go wide. Yunho has indeed cum completely untouched, right inside his pants, as evident from the large wet spot soaking through his brown slacks.
A man who loves eating pussy so much he gets off just from your pleasure…
You push his arm away from his face and pull him in by his cheeks for an endearing kiss, one that you hope shows your appreciation and adoration. 
“I’ll take care of you another day,” you promise him against his lips upon breaking. Regardless of the embarrassment coursing through him at the moment, he nods in acceptance. Anxiously walking to his car with his briefcase pressed firmly against his crotch to hide the aftermath of committing various sins in his office after finishing his work for the day is not something he ever expected to do, but somehow it still feels gratifying all the same.
It’s around this week that Yunho begins to sit down and seriously start examining his feelings. A quiet night in his home where he’s alone leads him to decide to sort out the swarm of thoughts he’s been accumulating in his mind for the last couple of weeks.
There’s no doubt in his mind that you both share a connection he’s never experienced with another woman before. When this all first began, although he explicitly let you know that he genuinely likes you, he initially wondered if maybe that was coming from being so attention and touch-deprived for some time. That maybe he was latching onto something because you filled a void, a subconscious selfish attachment to you to satisfy the things he lacked. None of that ended up being true, not even close. You both had spent a considerable amount of time exploring this thing… he supposes that’s where the dilemma comes in. What is this “thing”? He knows things are complicated considering the circumstances; but, are you both technically dating, just without the official title until that resolves itself? You hadn’t necessarily made that clear. What if you found someone closer to your age who made you feel the same way as he did within that time? Someone who you could be normal with and not have to sneak around or hide to enjoy. 
This is where his selfishness comes in.
He thinks about how he would indeed be jealous and perturbed if he even saw you with another man like that, even if it makes your life easier. He doesn’t want to even think about you giving another man the same heart palpitations or sweaty hands he gets when he’s around you. He doesn’t want anyone else on that campus to know what it feels like to kiss you. He doesn’t want anyone else to know how good and fulfilling it feels to be the object of your desires. It’s been nearly three months of dates, spending time together, and learning the ins and outs of each other (in all five senses and beyond). How could he not feel infuriated if that were to happen? 
That’s when it clicks for Yunho: he’s fucking in love with you. The moment this loud thought crosses his mind, Yunho’s chest tightens in fear. The last time he thought he felt this way about a woman, she hurt him in a way that took him some lengthy time to heal from. And, as he always has to remind himself, you are not just some woman. You’re also his student. This isn’t as simple as unmatching someone on Tinder because things didn’t work out, or blocking someone after a heartbreak. Though, the more he thinks about that word — student — the more he realizes it doesn’t matter anymore. You are much more than that. And soon enough, that word would no longer be in your vocabulary anyway. The only thing he cares about now is that you end up his officially at the end of the day. He was going to do whatever he could to make the rest of your semester smooth and stress-free, so you both could be happy together when it’s over. 
And, as if you know you’re being thought of, Yunho’s phone buzzes with a text from you asking if he’s asleep. He debates with himself about whether he should bite the bullet and ask if you can both talk about things in the near future, but he ultimately decides against it. For now, he’ll indulge in the way you call his phone before he can even type a response and tell him that you want to fall asleep to his voice.
Some days later, you find yourself knocking on Yunho’s office door in the early afternoon. Unlike some people, you wait until he answers with a confirmation to enter. 
“Good afternoon,” he beams after realizing it’s you, wiping his hands clean with a napkin.
“Ah, I’m just in time,” you chirp with clasped hands when you spot his empty tupperware. “I was worried I was going to interrupt your eating.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered anyways, pretty. You’ve seen me eat many times.”
“You deserve to eat in peace at least once a day like everyone else,” you reason while sitting down across from him as usual, “I sprung this meeting on you last minute anyway.”
“Speaking of which, I’m still quite confused about why you wanted to come here for this,” he replies while spinning his chair from side to side, “I told you my home is always open for you, especially for things like this.”
“This” being discussing your final paper. The same thing that put you right into his lap in the first place.
“Just felt a little nostalgic I guess,” you grin, adding in a quieter voice, “And maybe a little jealous too.”
His brows furrow, “Jealous?”
His confusion is expected, as you’re sure he hasn’t paid attention to much of the interruptions you’ve experienced while with him the last few weeks on campus. It’s not simply Wooyoung either, but everyone who gets his attention on campus when you have to stay away for one reason or another. The way other women on campus look at him or speak to him, unaware that he’s already devoting his attention to you. It eats at you a bit sometimes. 
Yunho may be greedy but you’re much greedier, as if that wasn’t evident enough by the things you did to attract him in the first place. Even then, he’s never failed to oblige any of your requests, whether that be with his endearment, his time, or his… assets. He deserves everything in the world, and you can’t wait to give that to him when the time arrives. For now, you’ll behave to the best of your abilities.
“Don’t mind me, I’m just rambling,” you deflect, “Seeing you in your element is just nice, that’s all.”
Yunho’s curious about what’s going on in your mind but he decides not to pursue further answers. 
“So, what do I have the pleasure of helping you with today?” 
The apples of his cheeks are even more prominent today as he smiles while asking this. You know he loves his job, but you’re sure he doesn’t get this much glee during office hours with anyone else. 
“Last session at your house we talked about my analysis section and I remember you telling me that I was overthinking, but I’m still second-guessing myself on some of my points. I guess I just need to run some things by you to be one hundred percent sure I’m in a good direction.”
“You’re almost as bad as me,” he declares. As the self-proclaimed King of Overthinking, he’s the only person allowed to say such a thing to you. Still, it makes you pout.
“To be fair, we both know this is not my best subject, so this final might be more important to me than any of my others,” you confess. This is partially true; a small part of you wants to impress your handsome linguist by showing him a final product worth reading. 
“You know I’d take care of things regardless, right? You don’t have to stress about that.”
“I appreciate that, but I want to earn this grade genuinely,” you clarify. He lets you know he understands, but you want some extra reassurance when you say, “Promise me you’ll grade me genuinely, okay?”
“I get it. I promise pretty lady,” he guarantees you with a soft, affectionate smile. “I know I tell you all the time in the most inappropriate scenarios… but I mean it when I say you’re a smart woman. I know you’ll do fine.”
If he could see you right now, Yeosang would surely be laughing at you for being such a lover-girl and telling you that you’re an absolute idiot for passing up an automatic A+ on your final, but you never genuinely pursued Yunho for that kind of leverage anyway, regardless of the initial jokes. This was something you genuinely hoped Yunho was aware of when it came to communicating your feelings. 
As always, he takes all the time you need to help you with a list of things you want a second opinion on, sources you want to make sure are up to par, and everything in between. He thinks it’s cute when you pull out your little checklist named “Things To Ask Yu”, and diligently check each off as they’re completed.
A relieved sigh leaves your lips the moment you check off the final thing on the list. You both meet eyes for a brief moment, and the look donning his face is something oozing with pure adoration. You hold his gaze for what feels like forever before glancing at your watch. You’re making good time, it’s been almost an hour.
“When you look at me like that, it makes me want to throw away all my responsibilities and stay here all day,” you mumble.
He lets out an airy chuckle, “Am I keeping you from anything in particular?”
“I do have a class in about half an hour.”
He stretches his arms over his head with a grunt, “Sounds like we should end things for the day and meet here again in a couple of days then, Miss Nostalgia.”
“Well…” You trail off as you stand to your feet and make your way to the office door. 
Yunho watches your fingers lock his door before you stroll back over to his side of the desk. Something stirs in his gut as he looks up into your eyes when you finally reach him, calculating the way you gaze back at him playfully. The small mischievous smirk playing on your lips… God, he just knows he’s in trouble. He turns his attention toward his laptop when you sit yourself on top of his desk right beside him.
“Well?”
“Remember how I said I would take care of you at another time?” The feeling of the edge of his desk sinking into your thighs elicits a soft sigh while you recount that day, as if him eating you out like a Christmas dinner wasn’t already ingrained into your mind. “This seems like a moment where that would be fitting.”
“Do you remember where we are?” He mimics your statement the last time you were both intimate in his office, in the same cadence and everything. His fingers delicately click at his mouse as he tries to think of anything else other than your thighs peeking out of that pleated skirt you’re wearing, directly next to his hand.
“If I remember correctly, that didn’t matter last time…”
“The circumstances were very different,” he immediately counters. 
It’s true, to an extent; the timing was more on par for solitude. Regardless, he knows he sounds like the biggest hypocrite at the moment, even more evident by the roll of your eyes he catches out of the corner of his. He leans back in his chair and runs his hands through his hair. Sometimes he wishes he was more adventurous, less concerned about the consequences, and more accepting of the thrill of things. When he’s thinking of these things, it’s not even for his sake, but yours. He can’t handle the thought of you losing your degree due to his selfishness. And yet, he can’t help the arousal building from those thoughts about your mischievous side. You’re able to pull that side out of him so easily.
“And yet, you’re hard,” you say quietly when your eyes fall to his ever-so-inviting lap, a blithe little chuckle following. Subconsciously, he covers himself over his slacks. “Are you scared of getting caught even with the door locked?”
“____, it's 2 PM and we're in my office with many people passing by every minute. Not to mention my other students who could request me at literally any time,” he explains with a flustered smile, “This is immensely risky, you know that very well.”
“But–”
“You also know very well I’m extremely bad at being that quiet with you,” he interrupts your attempt to plead your case. Only then does he roll his head to the side and give you this look with low hooded eyes that finally make you glance away. His sentiments make goosebumps lace your skin because— fuck —yes you know he didn’t like being quiet. That was honestly an understatement. The heaving, moaning, and endless praise were only the start of what you could pull from the man during your escapades. 
You ponder for a brief moment, contemplating just letting it go, but end up pursing your lips and resorting to those famous eyes you give Yeosang when you want something unattainable.
“Please Yu, just let me give you a good blowjob. It'll be quick and quiet, I promise.”
He just can’t say no when you look at him like that, so he sighs, “I guess…”
“I also have an idea.”
Yunho is not sure what he initially expected when those words came out of your mouth, but surely it didn’t include the way your hands slip under your skirt and tug your panties down your legs. He’s sure his entire face is a deep shade of scarlet when you hold them out for him. It doesn’t help that they're visibly wet. 
“Maybe this can help you stay quiet, you know?” You suggest this while motioning to your face. He understands, of course, but he feels like this will just make things worse. So much worse. It’s confirmed when he feels his pants tighten from merely holding them in his hands. Still, he agrees and nervously pushes his chair back. After sinking under the desk, Yunho pulls his chair forward with enough room for you to sit on your knees comfortably. At least there was no way you would be seen if something strange were to arise.
Undoing his belt is one of your favorite parts, the anticipation visible in his ansty hands when he doesn’t know where to put them while you work it off. Your fingers tug lightly at his pants zipper before you dip your fingers past the hem of his waistband and pull them down quietly. He makes sure to lift his hips a little for you to slip them past just enough. You take one glance at his slightly flustered face before you pull his length from out the hole of his boxer briefs. It’s so hard that it hurts, leaking a copious amount of precum and making quite a mess.
“There are people outside the door,” he voices his nerves again at the last minute, peering at the shadows of feet passing the door, and then back down at you. 
“Didn’t know you had such an exhibitionist kink then,” you poke fun at him in a whisper, noticing how much he’s twitching once the words leave his lips. A teasing laugh slips from your lips and he groans in frustration, his empty hand moving to cock to stroke himself lazily.
“I do not have an exhibitionist kink,” Yunho snaps back with a huff. His cheeks are so flushed with chagrin, and it amuses you because if he really was that scared, he’d simply tell you no. He’d turn you away with that stern voice he rarely uses and suggest a different place and time. But Yunho wants this as much as you want it, despite what his mouth may say in the meantime.
“Ready?” You remove his hand and let a long string of saliva fall from your tongue onto his tip, just enough for lubrication. Then, you place your hands around his shaft and start stroking him yourself, mixing the spit with his dribble of precum. “You seem pretty turned on by the idea of being caught, Yu.”
The endless string of soft gasps and strangled noises of air coming from him as you work your hands on him just the way he likes is enough to drive your pride up the wall. There was always something different about how you touched him that he’d never be able to fulfill himself. He’s indubitably addicted to you.
"Shit, ___–”
“Shhhh. Unless you’d prefer to get caught?” You quirk a brow curiously as you increase pressure on him so he can’t supply an answer. Instead, he kicks his head back and lets out a soft, satisfied moan that sounds similar to your name. You follow that with a tsk! and shake your head disapprovingly. “My mouth hasn’t even touched you and you’re already a mess.”
He lowers his eyes to meet yours with a pointed glare and a chill runs down your spine, “Taking your sweet time is not helping.”
You go to taunt him again but can't even finish the first word before his free hand rakes through your hair and pushes your open mouth down on his cock instead. Yunho twitches and throbs under you with a low, constricted grunt while you clutch his thighs with your nails. He’s in love with the way you look up at him so innocently, your plush lips wrapped around his length and tears prodding the corners of your eyes at the sudden intrusion. It amazes him how you’re still able to smile, eyes half-lidded as if he had just blessed your mouth.
“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself… Can I?” He sighs out, implying letting him use your mouth as he sees fit. 
The hum you release around his length and the way you relax your jaw confirm his request. Yunho holds you gently on either side of your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks tenderly before guiding you up and down his cock at a leisurely speed. Occasionally, he accidentally prods at the back of your throat and elicits a choked moan. He whispers his apologies each time even though he has nothing to be sorry about, but it’s just a habit. He winds his hand in your hair and pulls his cock out a bit to focus your mouth on his tip, bucking his hips in short, hasty thrusts and reveling in the way it draws sloppy noises from your mouth while you seal your lips around his tip to keep from making things too messy. The panties pressed to his face with his other hand aren’t doing much to repress those grunts that come from deep within his chest.
“Feels so good,” he pants softly from under the fabric, lips fixing to whimper, “Am I going too fast?”
You moan around his length once more, shaking your head and blinking away any remaining dampness from your lashes.
“If it’s ever too much, tell me to stop and I'll stop,” he insists affectionately, but those dark brown eyes are fixated on yours with blown-out irises and deep carnal cravings. 
He can’t expect you to ever want him to stop when he looks like that, right? Of course not. You take everything he gives you like the good girl he already knows you are, the sounds of your squelchy throat filling the silence and bouncing off the walls of his office. As much as you try to keep things clean, you can’t help the flood of saliva dripping onto his underwear the faster he fucks into your mouth. You can tell his orgasm is growing closer and closer by the way his thighs start trembling. 
And even though Yunho thinks he hears a sound closer to his office door than his comfort would allow, he continues his pace. Your eyes are closed, focused solely on breathing, so you aren’t aware of the way his attention is elsewhere. His eyes stayed trained on the silhouette of feet at the bottom of the door’s threshold, and there’s a fleeting thought of whether he should stop. That thought is overwritten with pure lust, spurred on by the way you reach up and begin to massage his balls the best you can from your position. Yunho bites down on your panties, muffling the whine bubbling from his chest. A moment later, your panties fall from his mouth and his hips lose all rhythm.
“Fuck ____– cumming,” he groans a little too loudly, but his head is somewhere deep in outer space, brain screaming at him for release, “Where?”
You open your mouth just the slightest bit wider to emphasize that you want him to cum down your throat. Yunho halts his hips altogether and you feel his cock throb in your mouth as he finally releases everything he has to offer. He’s no longer concerned with who may or may not be lurking at the door; the only thing he can focus on is the way you lock eyes with him while swallowing his essence and sucking him clean after the fact. Nothing else matters at this moment but you.
Friday’s class ends earlier than normal when Yunho gets through his lecture for the period faster than expected. 
“I need you to help me dye my hair soon if you have some time,” Yeosang says the moment people begin to stand and leave. You glance over to find him grimacing while looking into the camera of his phone, “I think I need to go back to pink or something, the brown is just not doing it for me.”
“I knew it wouldn’t last long,” you snort while filling up your backpack, “You’re just not used to having natural colors anymore.”
“I can’t even argue with that, my love.”
You ruffle a hand through his tresses before he finally stands to his feet, and you follow suit. Then, you toss a couple of things around in your mind about your schedule as you both walk down the lecture hall stairs before suggesting, “Actually, you could come over tonight if you already have the supplies.”
“Fuck, you’re the best. I’ll bring dinner too?”
Before you can even answer, a voice calls your name and steals your attention. Surprisingly, it’s Wooyoung of all people approaching you both. You can’t even hide the disinterest you feel in acknowledging him, it’s written all over your face. 
“Do you mind if I speak with you privately for a moment?” he inquires, motioning towards his chair.
Yeosang meets your eyes inquisitively before stepping away and telling you he’ll meet up with you later. The class has emptied when you both venture over to Wooyoung’s seat, and he begins searching through his bag for something in particular.
“Is there an issue with something I submitted?”
“Not necessarily,” he replies. “I suppose I just want some insight.”
He pulls out the notebook he uses for tracking grades in this class and places it on the table. People always find it a bit weird that he prefers to do things by hand first before electronically and, sure it might be more work than necessary, but he prefers to have both methods.
“I’m a pretty meticulous person, ____. I noticed that there’s a discrepancy in the grades for last week’s short essay assignment,” Wooyoung begins in a honeyed voice, “Though, the only discrepancy was on yours.”
“I’m not sure why you’re coming to me about this when Mr. Jeong handles things like this,” you respond indifferently. “I would ask him about the mistake.”
Wooyoung smiles and leans forward on his elbows, “That’s the funny thing, I did. He told me that he had made the change himself and not to worry about it. No other explanations.”
“Well again, he’s the teacher, so it sounds pretty open and shut then.”
“It’s never that simple, ____. I looked back and noticed this has happened a few times throughout the last month, actually.”
“If you’re just going to keep badgering me about grade changes I have nothing to do with then I’m gonna end this conversation here.” To be honest with yourself, there’s a part of you deep down that’s cursing profusely at Yunho for messing with your grades, and so openly at that. This is something you had explicitly made clear you didn’t need or want, but he had done it anyway. This is something you would have to chastise him about later in a very serious conversation. That’s the only concern on your mind as you start taking steps toward the doors and wave with a flick of your wrist, “Anyways, I’ve gotta go. I have other obligations for the day.”
“You mean like sucking off your teacher again?”
You cease all movement and turn back towards him, “Excuse me?”
“Sorry, that came out a little blunt, didn’t it?” He holds his hands up in remission. “It’s just not hard to put two and two together when your ear is pressed to a door and all you hear is choking, you know?”
“I have no clue what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’m offended you think I’d need that to pass a class anyway,” you reply indignantly. Still, there’s this slight feeling of panic pooling in your stomach.
Wooyoung gives you a knowing look, “You’re going to play stupid, really?”
“Look, I really don’t have the time for this—”
“I suppose we could ask the Dean what she thinks about things then? He said your name quite a few times, luckily,” Wooyoung interrupts you and suggests instead. His eyes flicker down to his phone and a pure look of fear at the thought that he possibly has a recording of you and Yunho’s depravity slates your face. “Oh, that got your attention.”
His laugh that follows that statement hits you right in your gut.
“My God, you’re an absolute asshole,” you seethe, but stop yourself before you can say anything worse. You’re well aware that being mean won’t get you on his good side. Instead, you calm yourself and rub your temples before asking, “What do you want to keep quiet, money? I don’t have much to offer but I can figure something out.”
“Listen, ____,” he says as he leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together, “I have a simple proposition that could make all of this just disappear.”
“Spit it out already then.”
“I want you to pretend we’re together for a little bit, publicly. Just enough time to make my ex want me back. Then, we can call it quits and go about our lives as if none of this happened.”
You can’t help the scoff that comes out of you, “You want me to fake date you to make your ex jealous, or else you’re going to essentially ruin my life. Is that what I’m hearing?”
“When you say it like that, it makes it sound evil,” Wooyoung points out with a hefty sigh. He slumps in his seat, “I’m not an evil guy, I would just like some help. That’s all. And you’re just not really in a position to say no, unlike others I’ve asked.”
“There’s a reason why those people said no, obviously,” you retort bitterly. He lets your sharp words roll off his back and simply smiles; there’s nothing you could say that would help your position and he knows this. It’s mid-November and graduation is in approximately a month. Surely it shouldn’t take that long for this plan of Wooyoung’s to finish, he knows this. The thought of it going on longer than necessary makes you feel physically ill though. Not to mention what Yunho would think about you having to interact with Wooyoung intimately.
“I want to make something clear as well,” he begins as if he’s forgotten this himself, “You cannot tell any of this to Mr. Jeong either. I don’t want my money for my assistant position to be compromised, obviously.”
Your brain begins to short-circuit at the thought of having to date Wooyoung openly without Yunho being aware it’s fake. The logistics in itself would cause you immense stress that you surely don’t need while closing out the end of your semester. You should very well be focusing on graduating and nothing more. Nonetheless, the last thing you want is for Yunho to lose his job because you couldn’t keep your mouth to yourself when he was already concerned about being caught that day. You don’t even care about the consequences for yourself, you’d feel immense guilt forever for ruining Yunho’s career and reputation. But, if Yunho heard that you were dating his TA, he’d surely break things off with you anyway. That thought scared you even more.
“So, would you like to exchange numbers?”
Halting your panic-stricken daze is Wooyoung’s hand surrendering his phone to you, a blank contact screen ever-so-inviting. You feel defeated, and you know this is going to end up turning out poorly, but you just can’t risk Yunho losing his job over you. When your anxious fingers snatch his phone and begin typing your information, Wooyoung sighs in contentment.
Tumblr media
♡ 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
I apologize if I missed anyone! Thank you for reading ◡̈
601 notes · View notes
winkwonkwankwenk · 4 months
Text
Gojo Head-Cannons!! (SFW & NSFW)
Tumblr media
SFW
Has modeled a few times just for fun, definitely a Paparazzi-Darling.
Has a major sweet tooth. Will accept any snack if it's high in sugar. He keeps snack cakes and candies in his pockets at all times. He sulks when you make him eat a meal before dessert when the two of you are out, almost like a petulant child. "I'm eating this Spinach because I want to, not because you told me to- and definitely not because it's so fucking good..." He cheers up again the moment you cave and let him run to the chocolate fountain.
Loves traveling. He can't stay in one place long before getting angsty. He'll hop on the nearest train or plane the moment he sees photos of an area, not bothering to pack a bag- he'll just buy whatever he needs while he's there. "Let's go to Morocco tomorrow. Or would you prefer Dubai?"
Black card holder. He's got a couple of them. He leaves most of them laying around the house and has left them in public on occasion. Worst case scenario, he just has to get a new card. Perks of being wealthy.
Shopping sprees! Gojo loves going shopping, so the moment you ask he grabs his keys and runs to the door. Even though shopping was your idea, you end up regretting it. He drags you to every store he sees, making you wait as he changes in the dressing room. He always ends up with hands full of bags, mostly things he brought for you when you weren't looking. He surprises you with gifts as thanks for tagging along.
He has a skincare routine. Toner? Got it. Moisturizer? Got it. You actually use his products because hello- they're clearly working. He also gets his nails and toes done regularly and the two of you often have spa days together. You'll sip and sit, eating fancy wines and cheeses while gossiping. "Did you see what he wore? I would never."
Always scoops you up when it's raining and hides you in his jacket so he can use infinity to block the rain. "Can't have you getting sick." His cheeks are tinted pink when he says this, and all you can do is smile.
Lightweight when it comes to alcohol. A shot gets him tipsy and he makes the worst decisions when he's drunk. You had to stop him from stripping once, and from then on he's never took a sip without you being near.
Loves cuddling. In bed? Yes. At work? Yes. On missions? Hell yeah! Every chance he gets to have you in his arms he eagerly takes.
He's a gym rat. He'll invite you to work out with him and pout if you decline. Sometimes he'll do push-ups with you under him, kissing you every time he goes down. "What? Kisses are my reward for all of this hard work." He'll tease, and then drop down for another. He's seen and heard those audios you have saved, so sometimes he'll taunt you by saying your name each push-up to make that whimpering sound you seem to adore.
Can't cook for shit. He's burned water before. It's funny, the amazing Gojo can't do something as simple as frying an egg or making toast.
Clingy boyfriend! He'll spam call, text, sometimes even show up outside your door with flowers and your favorite sweet. It can be pouring rain outside and he'll still rush over, even as lightning cackles in the sky. That's just how much he loves you.
He's attached to your stuffed animals. You've caught him trying to sneak some out of your place to take to his. You end up caving and letting him take home one squishmellow, he coats your face in kisses after.
Gets jealous easily. He wants all your attention and when he sees you giving it to another guy he'll act nonchalant but really he's holding back the urge to purple-hollow the dude.
Loves dancing. He'll pull you up off the couch or in his arms and loudly blast your song. Your song- the one the two of you listen to all the time. "We'll play this at our wedding for our first dance," he always jokes...sometimes you wonder if he's joking.
He wants children. Whenever the two of you are on a walk and see a family, the children run up to him and beg to play. Something about him radiates paternal energy. The parents of the kids will aways apologize but the two of you laugh it off. "That's going to be us soon, y'know." He'll whisper into your ear before your walk resumes.
It gets...intense when the two of you argue. He's stubborn in his stance, even when it's debating who's turn it is to do the dishes. Part of the problem is he finds you so damn hot when you're mad, the other problem is how he can't take anything seriously. He always plays things off as a joke until he sees how upset you are, and then the guilt will eat away at him. He always apologizes first, accompanied by make-up-gifts. "I shouldn't have said what I did, forgive me?"
He gets overstimulated sometimes because of 6th sense, and you're the first person he calls when it gets bad. Your voice is enough to calm him down, but a kiss on the cheek doesn't hurt.
He said "I love you" first, even with a shaky voice he knew he had to say it then or he never would.
NSFW (Kinky stuff ahead)
Loves making out with you but especially in public. He doesn't care how it makes other people feel, he'll pull you into a sloppily kiss and suck at your lips until they're kiss swollen. Drool, lots of drool, because he's obsessed with the taste of your tongue.
The first time you pulled his hair he made such an embarrassing noise he hasn't let you do it since. On occasion, you manage to sneakily bury your fingers in it and give it a firm tongue. A strangled moan will spill from his lips and then you have about five seconds to run. Good luck.
Pussy eater. Ass eater. He loves your taste. He'll bend you over the kitchen table and eat you out until your legs shake and your juices puddle on the floor. He'll lap your juices up and hold them in his mouth, then let them trickle into your mouth as he kisses you. "Mmm…now you know how good you taste."
He's a switch, perfectly fine with letting you lead on days you want to. His favorite positions are reverse-cowgirl, doggy, and sixty-nine. He loves when you sit on his face, nothing turns him on more than having your pussy on his skin. He likes to tell you how good you taste, even when his tongue is buried inside of you.
Three rounds isn't enough- he needs days. If you can still walk when he's done then back to the bedroom you go.
Pink tip. His cock is roughly eight inches, decently thick. He knows how to use it, and that's what really matters. Cum flavor is sweet, what did you expect from a man who's diet is 90% sugar?
He's a foreplay fan, thus why he loves making out with you. He also finds it so fun to finger you, play with your clit until you squirt. "This is where you're weak right?" He knows all of your favorite spots and especially the ones that push you over the edge until you're a soaking wet mess.
He'll try anything once, several times if he enjoys it of course. That's why he lets you peg him on occasion. He's let you cuff him down to the bed a few times. He's even worn a maid outfit for you.
He likes cumming on your skin, leaving his semen sprayed on you like a glaze. He also likes watching you swallow, it makes him shiver because you do it so eagerly. He'll still cum on your face after.
He's a loud lover. The neighbors better hear, or else he's not putting enough back into it. He knows he's doing good when you're screaming and squealing and there's knocking on the front door. "Good girl, let them hear how good I make you feel."
Bomb make-up sex. Whatever the two of you were fighting about doesn't matter now, not when he's ramming into you and holding your legs behind your head. How are you supposed to be mad when he's fucking you senseless?!
Steals your panties and finds it funny when you find them at his place. You've lectured him about it hundreds of times but his only response is a smug smirk. "Come on, I'm serious! I don't know how they got here." and "You must've left them last time you came over."
Only pulls out because he knows you trust him enough to let him hit raw. "Can I pleeease cum inside?" He always asks when he's close, and always respects whatever decision you make.
Aftercare is mostly cuddles, kisses, and takeout from your favorite places. He'll casually go to the door naked, jumpscaring the delivery person but since he tips them double what the food costs they never say much besides thank you. He'll feed you, then bathe with you when you can walk again. He likes to wash your hair, put on your lotion, help you put on fresh pajamas, and then he'll tuck you back into bed. "Rest up," he always says before you drift off.
Tumblr media
Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!! Reblogs appreciated!!
Join my discord!!
Fill my requests up!!😋
470 notes · View notes
wehaveimagineshere · 8 months
Note
Request for Ren! Could I request a scenario for Astarion to react to his gender neutral crush said they would sleep on the couch while he sleeps on the bed when both of them had to share a room with one bed? Even though the bed is big enough for both of them!
I woke up at like 3 in the morning (don't worry, I went back to sleep), saw this, and spent like 20 minutes thinking about it. I think I even dreamt about it! Thank you so much for the ask, and I hope you like what I wrote!
~*~*~
While you wouldn't necessarily complain about sleeping in the wilds, with the stars above your head and the sound of creatures going about their business, you had to admit having a roof to block out the rain and a comfortable bed to cushion your back was a nice change of pace.
"We don't have enough rooms for everyone in your party, unfortunately," comes the innkeep, flipping through her books. "Hopefully you aren't against rooming up."
"It would be cheaper that way," voices Wyll with a shrug.
Karlach laughs. "I don't care if I have to sleep on the floor. Give me a nice fluffy pillow and I'll sleep like a babe."
You catch the innkeep's eye and smile. "I think that answers your question."
Setting four keys down on the counter, she motions to the stairs to her right. "Well then, breakfast will be ready in the morning if you're interested. Enjoy your night."
As you grab the keys and turn to your companions, you grin as everyone eyes each other up. Shadowheart and Lae'zel would have to have separate rooms lest you wake up to one of them dead. Maybe the druids wouldn't be against wild shaping into cats that could sleep at the ends of the bed to free up space. Astarion--
Is staring at you with mischief in his eyes.
The moment he sees your eyes lock on his, he sidles up next to you. "What was that, darling? You want to share a room with me?" He puts a hand to his heart. "I'm honored, of course I'll agree. You needn't even ask."
Fighting the smile and giving him an eyeroll, you wave the remaining keys and set them back on the counter. "Figure it out, you guys. I'm tired."
"I would be too," you hear Gale mutter, eyes darting between you two with a raised eyebrow.
Slipping an arm over your shoulders, Astarion turns you toward the stairs. "I wouldn't bother trying to add yourselves to our room. We'll be...busy."
You hear Lae'zel scoff while Wyll laughs, "We know."
Letting him lead you up the stairs and to your room, he leaves you at the door while he sets his pack down on the bed. A single bed, large enough for two, yet... Glancing about the room, you spot a small fainting couch and make your way to it.
Rifling through your pack and grabbing up your nightwear and blankets, you start undoing your clothes. "I can take the couch."
His ruffling stops, and you turn to see his shirt half off, a confused look thrown your way. "What?"
"I can take the couch," you repeat, motioning to it for good measure.
Furrowing his brow, he looks between you and the bed. "Are you blind? There's enough room for both of us, darling."
Raising an eyebrow, you study the bed. While there was enough room to stretch out comfortably, and the thought of cuddling up against Astarion all night makes your heart flutter...
"You'd be comfortable with that?"
He gives you an incredulous look, then you watch as it morphs into a confused look once again, then shifts into one of surprise. Tossing his shirt onto the bed, he approaches you slowly and doesn't stop until your chests are mere inches apart.
The emotions you see in his eyes closes your throat.
"My love," he starts softly, quietly, feathering his fingers down your arm before gently wrapping them around yours, "you always continue to surprise me." Bringing your knuckles to his lips, he places a soft kiss upon them. "I wish for nothing more than to wrap my arms around you, feel you pressed up against me, and keep you all to myself."
Feeling your cheeks burn, you squeeze his fingers and give a smile. "How long have you wanted to tell me that?"
He grins with a wink. "I'll leave that to your imagination. Now!" Pulling you forward, he tugs on your shirt. "Get dressed so we can cuddle and be mushy and gooey and make myself want to throw up."
Laughing, you pull your hand out of his and do exactly as he demands.
679 notes · View notes
mpregdimension · 19 days
Text
Tumblr media
I melted back against the couch cushions, savoring the warmth of Santiago's muscular arms wrapped tightly around me. At 7 months pregnant, my belly had ballooned out enormously, though the sleepy Santiago still thought I was only carrying one big baby. If only he knew the truth that I had twin sons brewing in there.
"It's time for you to tell me how your three weeks in Colombia went. How're your parents doing?" I asked, craning my neck to nuzzle against his scratchy cheek. Santiago had just gotten back from another Colombia trip.
"They're good, babe" he mumbled groggily, planting a lazy kiss on my temple. "Mom keeps bugging me about when I'll finally bring you to meet them."
I managed a smile, though part of me worried his mother might not be as accepting of our relationship as she let on. Since I found out I was pregnant Santiago has stopped talking about his parents, children and friends like he did before, even though he travels to Colombia almost all the time to visit them.
"What about your...other family?" I ventured cautiously.
Santiago immediately tensed up, his eyes flashing open. "Paul, you already know I'm still in the same situation, there's no need to ask every time, please don't make me talk about that damn ex-wife," he grumbled, suddenly sounding more awake. "That shitty divorce is still going on for years, at least my boys are fine, busy at university without having to get involved in those problems."
Deciding to drop it, I just nodded and leaned back against his chest, breathing in his musky, familiar scent. Santiago nuzzled against my neck, his hands roaming down to cup my huge pregnant belly.
"Damn, you're getting so fuckin' big, babe," he purred in that deep, gravelly voice. "I can't wait to meet our little man."
Our little man...if only he knew. I worried my lip, debating whether I should finally tell him about the twins. 
Before I could decide, Santiago surprised me by whispering hotly in my ear, "You know...it's been way too long since I pounded that sweet ass of yours. Why don't we head to the bedroom so I can really go to town on you?" His breath was hot against my neck.
My eyes widened in shock at the bold suggestion, panic fluttering in my chest. As much as I craved intimacy with Santiago, I couldn't risk anything that might inadvertently trigger labor prematurely.
"Babe, I...I really don't think that's a good idea," I stammered awkwardly. "The doctor said rough sex is off-limits this late in the pregnancy."
He let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Who said anything about rough? I was thinking nice and hard...Help get you all loosened up down there for when the big day comes." His hand stroked along my thigh teasingly.
I gulped nervously, my heart pounding as desire warred with prudence. Part of me was tempted to throw caution to the wind. But the protective father within wouldn't endanger the twins.
"Please, baby," I pleaded, putting my hand over his to stop the sensual motions. "I want the memories of going into labor to be peaceful, not because we got too carried away fucking like animals."  
A frustrated groan rumbled from Santiago's lips as he begrudgingly pulled his hands away. His eyelids were growing heavy again, that burst of frisky energy fading. I could see him struggling between the urge to ravish me and the siren call of sleep.
Finally, with a defeated sigh, Santiago seemed to give in to exhaustion. "You're right, babe. We'll save that for after the little dudes get here." Within minutes, his breath had evened out into the steady rhythm of slumber. The lingering secret about my twin pregnancy is still burning in the back of my mind. Would it be better to keep it a surprise?
222 notes · View notes
pinkthrone445 · 28 days
Text
-Let it burn to the ground- Part 2
Part 1
Tumblr media
Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Gender:love, hurt, confort, funny, smut
Warnings:Mention about past trauma, fires, SEX! SEX YOUR SINFUL SOULS
Summary:Melissa lets the fire of love consume her when she meets the new chief of the fire station. And then she musters up the courage to take you on a date.
Your phone rang with a notification while you were lying down watching TV. Today was your day off and after dropping your child off at school and going to the gym, you came home to watch TV and get some rest. You wiped your hand full of Doritos powder on a napkin and took your cell phone
-🔥Miss Schementti🔥:"Hello chief, I hope that you are enjoying your day off... I'm exited about tonight..."-The redhead had sent you a message and you stared at your phone for a few seconds. While you had accepted the invitation the day before, it had been a while since you had a date and now you were questioning whether this was the right decision.
Your fingers danced on the keyboard without touching any keys while you chewed your lip, wondering what the appropriate response would be. Your cell phone vibrated again
-🔥Miss Schementti🔥:"I must warn you that I am not a person who eats little, not even in first dates, so do not get scared when you see me ask for another portion or two, you've been warned..."-The message made you laugh imagining her eating and the answer came naturally.
-You:"I get it, you don't have to worry, I'm also a big eater. In my childhood my nana taught me that if there was still room to breathe, there was room for food. Now I know how to stop when I'm satisfied, but it's not easy to get to that point either..."-You replied with a smile and your fingers danced again on the keyboard and then sent another message
-You:"Excited for tonight too... But I haven't played the dating game in a long time, be gentle with me please" - Your heart pounded from the nerves of admitting that, the bubbles that the redhead was writing seemed on screen for a few seconds and then disappeared. When 30 minutes went by without an answer, you questioned again if this date was a good idea. After a few more minutes, your cell phone rang again
-🔥Melissa Schemmenti🔥: "Sorry Chief, a kid put a bean in his nose and it got stuck and we had to go to the nurse, I even thought about calling you to come to the rescue, but I didn't wanted to bother you on your day off... Don't worry about tonight, we'll let things flow, step by step. I promise"-The message calmed you down somehow, and you decided to go through your closet to see what you would be wearing that night.
Later that day, you took your car and drove to pick up your son. As you waited for her class to come out, Melissa came up to you smiling and adjusting her jacket
-"Hey Chief..."-The redhead whispered, lengthening the vowels in a seductive tone
-"Hey Miss Schementti... Where are you taking me tonight?" - You consulted smiling watching as the redhead adjusted the jacket to her body because it was a little cold
-"It's a surprise... One that I hope you like and enjoy... Will you bring your child? He is welcome if you want..."-She whispered a little nervously and embarrassed
"No, he's going to stay at his aunt's house... Do you want me to pick you up tonight?" - You offered, and she nodded, smiling. The truth is that you offered to pick her up because if the date went wrong, you weren't the one who depended on her taking you home.
-"Mama!" - Your little one ran to you and you lifted him up holding him tight to your chest, while Mel couldn't help but watch the way your arms twitched
-"Hola baby" - You spoke and he smiled hiding in your neck-"How did school go?"
-"Good! We are learning cursive! I can write a letter now" - He commented and you laughed tenderly
-"I'm sure you can, son... Let's go home for lunch and then you have to visit your aunt, your abu and your cousins for sleepover" - You commented, and the little guy smiled excitedly-"See you later Schementti..."- You answered with a smile and walked to your car.
After dropping your son off with the family, you got dressed with the casual suit you choose and decided to drive to pick up the redhead.
When you arrived to her address, you got out of your car and knocked on her door gently, almost immediately Mel opened it
-"Wow Chief...Hi, sorry... I never thought you'd look better than wearing your firefighter uniform, but you're amazing right now with that suit..."-She whispered silly looking at you and you laughed
-"Hi Schementti... You look very good too with your dress... I love your leather jackets they hug you body so perfectly" - You commented before you could hold you back-"Ready?" - You murmured and opened the door of the car for her. The redhead smiled and climbed up carefully, letting you close it.
While at first you were very nervous as you had lost the practice of meeting people and dating, on your date with the redhead you felt an instant connection and everything went smoothly, she took you to a nice place with good food and entertaining music. The tables had some board games which you decided to use and have some fun.
While you beat her up by playing uno, the redhead took the opportunity to know and learn more about you
-"So...why do you say you've lost the practice of going out? You are a beautiful and attractive woman, not to mention that you are very hot and brave... I don't think you're short of opportunities where people will ask you out on dates..."-She asked, lifting the 12 cards from the deck that had accumulated with the draw 4
-" It's not that... It's just that since my husband passed away, it was difficult to get my life back on track... I didn't just want to have sex with someone I have no conetion with, aside from the fact that it's hard to do it because I live with my son, and I couldn't find anyone who would catch my eye to have a relationship with... Nobody wants to date you when you have a child like in my case, so it's been two and a half years since I've dated anyone or had sex in that time... You're the first person I've dated since he passed away..."-You muttered a little embarrassed to admit it out loud-" I know it's been a long time since I've had sex, but between work and my son I'm pretty busy and I don't have much time to think about it..."
-"I'm flattered that you chose me to go on your first date after so long..."-she replied and you rolled your eyes
-"Please don't make fun of it... It's embarrassing enough as it is..."-You replied blushing and she smiled as she took your hand on the table
-"I'm not making fun of it, I'm really flattered by it. It means that you did feel a connection with me, like the one I feel with you from the first time I saw you..."-The redhead responded by kissing your hand and you smiled looking into her eyes as you got close to her
-"Thank you Mel..."-You whispered close to her lips laughing and dropped a +4-"UNO, I chose red, I win"-You spoke almost close to her lips and laughed pulling away from her
-"That's cheating! You got me distracted!" - The redhead screamed annoyed because she didn't liked to lose and you laughed
-"Everything is valid in games and love..."-You answered and she rolled her eyes
-"Do you want to go dancing? Before you keep kicking my ass at board games..."-She offered and you nodded still laughing
The rest of the night you talked more and danced together, having a beautiful time together. You were really surprised by the connection you felt with her...
When it got late, you drove to her house to get her to safety, while you let the conversation flow.
When you parked at her door, you got out and opened the car for her and escorted her to her entrance
-"I really had a nice time... Thank you for being patient with me... I was scared, but now I feel really happy..."-You whispered looking into her eyes and she opened the door for you
-"Want to come in for a coffee? I don't want this to end yet..."-she offered and you nodded.
When you entered, while she was making coffee, you took advantage and observed a little bit of her house and the photos on the wall smiling, you liked that Mel was a family woman. Her house was quaint and well-kept, somehow the house suited her.
When the coffee was ready, the two sat down on the couch letting the television gently play in the background
-"And you? How about your dating life? You looked so calm tonight, like you had practice..."-You asked while tasting the amazing coffee, somehow the taste reminded you of your home when you were little, which relaxed you and made you feel happy and calm
-"I was married for a long time... When I broke up it was hard for me to get back in the game, but when I did, I started dating a man, but we didn't have the same goals, so I decided to end that relationship... Then I had casual sex a couple of times..." - She muttered embarrassedly not wanting to admit that it was with someone you knew, she didn't know how you were going to take it
-" I know that, with the captain of the station I was sent to take care of"-You replied and she raised her eyebrows surprised and a little embarrassed-"I know everything that happens at my station, it's not for nothing that I'm the Chief" - You replied and she smiled when she saw that you didn't take it the wrong way
-"Yes, with him... Don't make me embarrassed by making fun of it" - she muttered, hiding her face in her hands and you laughed
-"I won't make fun of it, if I'd gone out with him I'd have a lifetime of remorse just think about it and I think that's enough for you, you don't need me to make fun of it to feel embarrassment" - You joked and she slapped your shoulder laughing. Her hand didn't move away from your arm, but gripped it tighter
-"Wow... You are very strong... Look how firm is your arm..."-She murmured in a seductive tone and you blushed-"Do you think you can lift me up?" - she asked and you nodded-"Can we try?"
-"Sure" - You carefully set your cup down on the table and grabbed her waist, your hands fitting perfectly as if they belonged there and her skin was comfortably warm. Forcefully but without getting up from the couch, you picked up the redhead with ease and sat her on your lap again. Immediately Mel spread her legs, straddling on your lap comfortably, smiling very big
-"Wow, that turn me on in a hundred different ways" - The redhead said without thinking and you laughed looking at her lips
-"You are a gorgeous and funny woman" - You whispered, smiling without taking your hands off her waist, caressing the skin that the blouse had revealed as she stood up a little. Mel's excited smile changed to a softer one and her gaze also turned to your lips, leaning slightly millimeters from your lips. Although you didn't want to admit it, you felt so nervous to do this, you weren't even sure about going on a date on the first place, and now she was sitting on your lap about to kiss you. Was that right? Or was it all going too fast? Even your angels of good and evil must have been frightened, for not a word of your conscience occupied your mind. Without realizing it, you connected your lips to her. A sigh left your mouth when you felt her close, if her skin was soft, her lips were like a clowd, round, soft and filled, perfect
The kiss at first was slow, but after a few seconds it became deep and hard, shaking you and making your heart beat very hard, your hands squeezed her waist tighter as you felt short of breath, making the redhead moan softly
-"Let's go to my room" - She muttered quickly to kiss you again, you nodded and got up from the couch, grabbing the redhead's ass to lift her with you, she immediately wrapped her legs around your waist, gently kissing your neck as you climbed the stairs carrying her.
Her kisses on your neck clouded your senses, even blurred your vision and your breathing ragged. Upon entering the room, you closed the door with your feet and left the redhead on the bed, admiring the sight of her slightly disheveled clothes and tousled hair, her breathing was ragged, and her chest bounced gently with each breath
-"Do you have a strap or you want my fingers?" - The question took the redhead by surprise, but she'd be lying if it didn't make her more excited. With her hands she pointed to her nightstand, which you opened to find a purple dildo in a delicate leather strap.
-"I want everything" - She responded agitated and excited. Smiling, you took it with one hand as you peeled off your pants and kicked them to the ground, with that same hand you opened your shirt but without taking it off. With hands a little shaky with excitement or nerves, you placed the strap on your hips on top of your underwear, it was delicately clean and smelled like raspberry. When you turn, your knees almost buckle when you saw the redhead waiting for you in bed with only her underwear on, with a red bra and panties that matched, kneeling and sitting on her legs, staring at you smiling.
The redhead's gaze swept over your face, your breasts, your abdomen and the way your crotch hid behind the strap on your hips. She had to force herself to close her mouth to avoid drooling.
You delicately rested one of your knees on the bed to reconnect your lips on hers, placing your hand on the nape of the redhead's neck to gently pull her hair making her lie on the bed without taking your lips off hers.
You gently sucked her lip into your mouth, making her moan and taking the opportunity to claim her mouth with your tongue, battling for dominance and winning easily as the redhead was overstimulated just by having you there wearing her strap.
Your kisses slowly moved down from her lips to her jaw, alternating between kisses and gentle bites as you let your leg slip to the redhead's crotch, generating gentle friction and pressure making her moan. Mel took your hair in her hands and pulled it a little, needing a little touch to ground her, especially when you started biting her collarbone and went down to her breasts biting the part that the bra showed. She inadvertently began to move her hips against your leg, desperately looking for more friction, but a frustrated moan left her lips as you firmly grasped her hip, letting her press on your leg but not rub against it.
When you began to feel her wetness on your leg, you quickly stripped off what little underwear she had left on her body, admiring for a second her complete nakedness. You smiled and kissed her forehead and then her lips again going slowly down.
Your lips found her nipple sucking hard as your life depended on it, alternating between gentle, delicate sucks to firm licks with a few bites.
When you finished giving both breasts their attention, you kissed her deeply again as you replaced your leg with your hip, letting the dildo rub against her crotch, which was already very wet and slippery, but not entering her yet.
Your hand went down to her crotch to check if it was really wet enough to go in, when you felt her swollen and wet cliroris on the top of your fingers, you moaned on her lips at such perfection. You gently began stroking it with your index finger as you guided the strap to her entrance, enjoying every moan and sigh that the redhead let out into your mouth.
When you were well positioned and sure you wouldn't hurt her, you pushed in slowly, pulling away from her lips to watch as her body slowly hugged and took every inch you offered her. Your gaze wandered for a second to watch as the redhead squeezed the sheets with one of her hands while with the other she desperately squeezed and pinched her breasts, letting out a couple of profanities with your name included in a few of them.
When the strap went all the way in and your hip connected with hers, it was your turn to let out insults, that woman was a wish come true with how beautiful and sexy she looked open like that.
Gently you placed yourself back on top of her, kissing her vigorously as you slowly pulled the strap back as your finger gently twirled over her cliroris. You tried to stay calm and slow down for a few minutes, but when the redhead started to shake and breath heavily and the sounds of how wet she was reached your ears, you couldn't hold back for much longer.
Both of your hands went to her hip and you started to go faster, with short but deep thrusts. Watching how her breasts bounce, her hair brushed against the pillow and tousled it and her mouth was slightly open trying to breathe with each thrust you gave it.
One of your hands grabbed the woman's leg and you placed it on your shoulder, giving you a new angle and more strength to lunge. For her age, it was surprisingly flexible, allowing you to bend down a bit to get to kiss her shoulder.
Mel pressed down on your back with her leg, digging her heel into your back and pulling you deeper into her.
You started kissing her thigh which was close to your face and giving her gentle bites and marks.
Mel began to breathe more heavily, and to move her hips erratically and desperately, moaning almost like a pornographic movie. Your thrusts became desperate as well when you saw that she was close, squeezing her hips with one of your hands, taking advantage of hearing the slapping sound every time your skin collided with hers and the wet sound of her juices coating the toy and your legs.
In a matter of seconds, as your fingers gently pinched the redhead's clit, Mel's body began to shake uncontrollably as one of the strongest orgasms of her life took over her entire body, from the tips of her toes to her head, she felt as if she had been struck by lightning and every millimeter of her body was charged with electricity.
For a few seconds, the redhead contracted so hard that she caught the dildo inside her and your hips collided with her so hard that, you didn't know if it was because you hadn't been with someone for years or because just looking at the redhead naked was enough to reach your breaking point, but a surprising and strong orgasm came in your body too, feeling your juices dripping down your legs and leaving you exhausted and lost for a few seconds.
When the redhead's walls relaxed, you removed the toy from her, detaching it from your body and throwing it on the floor. Agitated, you lay down next to her and grabbed her waist, pulling her to you and hugging her against your body protectively.
-"That was..."-It was the only thing the redhead managed to formulate between her agitated breathing
-"Amazing" - You whispered, kissing her forehead. Before either of you could say more, a sleppy blanket took you both by surprise, making you sleep in each other's arms .
The next morning, the redhead woke up with pain all over her body but happiness covering all her thoughts. But when she turned in bed and saw no sign of your presence there or in the house, a feeling of sadness took her by surprise, a feeling that grew when she texted you over the next few days and you didn't answer, see her or call her again.
You disappeared completely, you didn't even pick up your son from school and you always sent someone else for him to avoid seeing her and the redhead didn't understand why. She thought everything had gone well, even perfect, but apparently she was wrong.
197 notes · View notes
personasintro · 7 months
Text
Mutual Help | #27
Tumblr media
↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.9k+
Tumblr media
⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
Tumblr media
"I knew I would see you slacking off. Again."
It doesn't take long for you to recognize the teasing and edge to the very familiar voice, the one you could probably never get mistaken. Glancing at Yoongi who's walking towards you, an evident smirk glowing on his features as he rolls up the sleeves of his black button up.
"Bothering me again? Here I was thinking you finally left me alone." you murmur, audible enough for him to hear because that's exactly what you wanted but all he gives you is an amused chuckle.
You don't even bother explaining to him that you're just taking a ten minute break, before you've to make calls for upcoming photoshoots. It's not worth it and he wouldn't care for sure.
"Me? Never," he smirks, leaning against the window sill where you're standing glancing at the busy Seoul streets. "And you seem happier, so now I'm back."
It surprises you that he brought up the sudden change of your mood, even if his words were tactical and light without actually prying at what happened. You purse your lips, trying to hide a grin because this man is just unstoppable and unbelievable. From the corner of his eyes you notice the corner of his lips twitch as he stares at you with those sharp eyes.
"Such a shame. I was hoping you'd leave me alone for a few days at least." you joke, hearing him feigning a dramatic gasp that makes you snort as you both laugh.
"Well, I'm glad you got your humor back," he teases, wiggling his brows as you roll your eyes although a soft grin spreads on your lips. "But are you okay?" he asks, the teasing long gone from his voice as you stare at him with widened eyes.
He sounds genuine and--
"Min Yoongi, are you worried about me?" you ask, a grin making its way back onto your lips as Yoongi scoffs.
"Don't be ridiculous," he denies, scrunching his nose as if the mention of him being worried about you disgusts him. "I'm just curious, that's all."
"Uhm," you hum, smirking when he growls in disagreement. "But since you're so curious about me, yes, I'm okay." you answer, knowing that he's waiting for your answer nevertheless of your teasing and he nods in acknowledgement.
You're okay. When you woke up, unfortunately there were no signs of Jungkook because he had to wake up earlier than you. In a sleepy state, you can remember his alarm going off but you drifted back to sleep before you could pry your eyes open. Jungkook managed to turn off the alarm quickly, before it could wake you up entirely. However, this morning has been different because there was a small note waiting for you on the kitchen counter.
'I had to wake up earlier, we'll talk when I get home. Have a nice day, JK :)'
Just a simple note was enough to make your day a little bit better. Oh, who are you kidding. It made your day better a lot considering how worried you were about your friendship and Jungkook as well. You're glad you got to talk and understand each other better.
"Oh, I take it you got laid."
You almost choke at Yoongi's blunt words, your eyes scanning the break room which you're currently alone in. Thank god.
"No, I didn't!" you deny, but it sounds like a lie even to your ears and your very attentive co-worker seems to know that too as he starts grinning.
"Oh my god, you did!" he exclaims, grinning as you hiss at him, annoyance crossing on your features.
"So what?" you grumble. There's no point of denying it. Well, at least you tried. "You should get laid too, maybe it would help you with your attitude."
"Are you offering?" he asks right away, catching you off guard as your eyes almost bulge out.
Heat spreads over your cheeks as you suddenly imagine Yoongi naked, most likely being intimate with you but before you can get a proper image, you shake out of it. Fucks sake, this is your annoying co-worker. Why would you even imagine something like that? In your defense, he's the one who said it. Not you.
"Oh, you've a boyfriend." he pouts, causing you to roll your eyes. As if that makes any difference.
"He's not my boyfriend for fucks sake," you groan, "He's my best friend." you clarify, growing tired that for some reason he doesn't believe you.
You don't even know why that bothers you so much. Maybe it's the same thing when people would assume you were dating, but you weren't. You weren't having sex back then and they still thought you and Jungkook are secretly dating, or that you will. It always annoyed you and not just you. It annoyed Jungkook too but he had always been better at brushing it off, unlike you.
"Wasn't he your fuck buddy?" he feigns confusion and you're super close to slap him across his face.
Yoongi finds this entertaining as he's staring at you, seeing you twisting with discomfort written all over your face. Ah, he loves making you embarrassed. You always play tough around him, but he knows you're much more sensitive than you're showing him.
"Actually, I don't think he is. He's no longer my fuck buddy." you tell him, sounding almost proudly which catches Yoongi off guard and you see it by the way his lips part.
You and Jungkook still haven't justified your deal, but you both know it should've been over a long time ago. What happened last night – well, you had sex and that's it. There's nothing much to say about that. You both were horny, angry and it felt like angry sex is the right decision at that moment. It definitely helped you get that anger and irritation out of you.
"And that's why you are so happy?" he asks, sounding confused and surprised as you shrug.
"Not exactly. We talked yesterday and sorted some things out. He's probably getting back with his ex anyway. We both got what we wanted." you tell him, not really sure why you're so honest all of a sudden.
"And you're... fine with that?" he asks slowly, as if he's still trying to process your answer. Poor guy, he's confused and isn't trying to hide it at all. It's a rare moment to see him so confused and out of place.
"Why wouldn't I be? We had a deal, there are no hard feelings." you shrug.
It's understandable Yoongi is most likely confused and tries to put the pieces together. He doesn't know your whole deal after all. All he knows is that you've a best friend and you became friends with benefits for some time. And according to your words, that has ended.
"Shit, you're even crazier than I thought." he exclaims, causing you to frown as you glare at him.
"Thanks." you mutter sarcastically, ready to get back to work before Jinho notices you're gone longer than you should be. You don't need him to ruin your day.
"Hey," Yoongi calls out, causing you to stop as you glance at him. There's something about his features that make them look more softer as he glances at you. "I was just joking, you're not crazy."
You blink a couple of times, staring at the man that uncomfortably shifts on his spot as you lick your dry lips. "Thanks?"
"Maybe just a little bit." he says, his lips twitching as you snort.
"Aren't we all?" you ask, slowly backing away. "You really are growing soft on me." you joke, causing him to scoff immediately.
"Fuck off." he says as he hears your laugh. The middle finger you show him with you walking away while turned with your back to him doesn't go unnoticed by him too, a scoff of disbelief filling up the empty break room.
Tumblr media
When you get back home, Jungkook's home, you're surprised by the sight of Jungkook himself. He's pacing around the living room, patting the pockets of his black slacks as he makes sure he has everything. You stare at him, legs bare and out of those awful heels that you were wearing the whole day, but you can't focus on the ache of your feet. It's hard to do so, especially when Jungkook looks extremely good. He always does, but there's just something about him wearing all black, especially that goddamn black button up exposing some of his chest. His black locks look natural but add just the right pinch of hotness to his whole look. It's the details too, like the silver earrings he usually wears and a shiny silver ring wrapped around his tattooed finger.
"Hi?" you call out, Jungkook's head snapping to yours as he finally notices you.
He gives you a big smile, greeting you right away as he reaches for his wallet before putting it into the pocket. "Hey, I was wondering when you'll get back." he says, voice light as he ruffles his hair.
"I had to go over Monday's plans with Yoongi, got caught up." you explain, giving him a small smile in return as his soft features twist in a mere confusion.
"Yoongi?"
"My co-worker." you answer, wondering if you've ever mentioned Yoongi's name. You probably didn't since he's asking. And there was no reason, you're glad you don't get to talk about him in your private life. It's just enough to bear with him almost every day.
"Ah," Jungkook hums, "Well, Jin texted me and the guys, and he wants to hang out tonight."
That would explain his outfit and obvious fact that he's about to leave.
"Oh, is he back from the honeymoon?" you ask, putting your bag onto the couch as if it's your daily routine every day coming back from work. That's because it is. You managed to have your own new routine ever since staying over at Jungkook's.
"Yeah, came back last week actually. They just had a little bit after the honeymoon phase," he chuckles.
Obviously, you know what that means. Sex, sex and a lot of sex. 
"And now he wants to hang out with us. You wanna go with us?" he asks, waiting for your answer as you open your mouth in surprise.
It's probably all guys hanging out, you don't think they would mind if you came too but you wouldn't want to intrude. Not that Jungkook would mind anyway. You're touched that he's asking you to come too, considering that you would be left alone in his apartment. But you're tired, you don't mind relaxing. Although, you thought you'd talk tonight.
"Ah, no. Thank you though. I'm tired and I just wanna relax tonight." you assure him, knowing that if he saw any doubt on your face, he wouldn't let you live.
"You want me to stay with you? I can just text them and decline, I don't mind." he says, and your heart warms up all again but you shake your head.
"Don't be stupid. Have fun, go hang out with them. I'll just watch Netflix or something and then go to sleep. Do you have a ride back home? I assume you all will be drinking." you tell him, changing topic knowing he would question you for a couple more seconds.
He looks as if he's contemplating asking again but just shakes his head. "I'll just call a cab or something." he waves his hand.
"You sure? I can pick you up." you offer, but he shakes his head again.
"No, it's okay. I'll probably come back late. You should just go to sleep, don't worry about me." he smiles, walking towards you as he pokes your nose causing you to frown.
"My apartment is already fixed," you tell him, remembering the call you got around lunch time.
You hoped you'd be happier when the repairman called you and informed you that it's all good now, and you're free to move back in. Well, living with Jungkook has been nice. He's been cooking for you, more than you had for him. You helped with cleaning, but it's proven that Jungkook has everything under control and manages to clean everything on his own. Surprisingly, looking at the fact that Jungkook is a man, he's very clean and likes his things in their place. Oh, and he's been taking care of washing your clothes and now they smell like him. Not entirely, but the fabric softener he's always using.
"I'll go back tomorrow." you add, his doe eyes staring at you as he sighs.
"Oh, okay," he says, sounding disappointed. "I'll miss having you around though." he says, causing you to snort as you push his firm chest. Oh god.
"I barely did anything." you laugh, causing him to grin as he scrunches his nose.
"Believe it or not, but just having you around is enough."
"Oh my god, Jeon. You're such a sap." you snort, causing him to roll his eyes but there's an amused grin spreading on his lips.
"What? You don't believe me?" he wiggles his brows, pinching your cheeks as you slap his hands away causing him to put a little bit of pressure which makes you whine.
"Let go of me, Jeon!"
He does, but not before he starts cackling at your red cheeks and frustration filling your face. What a kid. 
"But seriously, I'll miss you." he says, chuckling as he watches you rubbing your red cheeks to make the pinching feeling go away.
You glare at him, but how can you stay mad at him when he's scrunching his nose again as he's laughing at your expression. "I'm not dying, Kook. We can still hang out whenever we want." you remind him, growing soft that he really looks kind of bummed out that your apartment is fixed.
"I know that," he says, shrugging. "I hope you're not. Imagine if you were, who would I annoy?" he pouts fakely, causing you to raise your hand as you're ready to slap him but he's already anticipating it, dodging your hand with ease.
"Jimin or Taehyung? Or the hundreds of other friends you've." you murmur, giggling when he makes a grimace and shakes his head.
"None of them are like you," he says, voice soft but serious as he steps closer to you. Your breath hitches, anticipating his next move but you definitely don't expect him to poke you in your ribs as he lets out a cackle. "And you're too easy to annoy."
"I really hope that one day when you'll have kids, they'll annoy the shit out of you. You deserve it." you tell him seriously, only causing him to laugh as you're trying to hide your grin.
"Kids annoy the shit out of their parents anyway," he points out, shrugging as if your comment doesn't mean anything. "And your kids will annoy you too, don't think your kids won't be annoying just because it's you." he teases, causing you to roll your eyes as you shrug.
"We'll see, Jeon." you muse, pursing your lips while he snickers at you.
He stares at you for a couple of seconds, and you already know that look in his eyes. He lightly coughs, preparing himself for whatever he wants to talk about but you already have an idea what it might be. You wanted to talk after all.
"So..." he starts, nibbling on his bottom lip before he sighs and opens his mouth again. "What now?"
"What do you mean what now?" you ask, chuckling. "I guess our deal is off, isn't it? There's no point of us pretending to be dating. I'm guessing you've already agreed to meet with Kiko...?" you ask, a question lingering in the air for a couple of seconds as Jungkook nods.
"Well, we haven't set the date yet. She's visiting her parents right now. She told me she'll let me know when she's back." he explains, causing you to nod.
"But she agreed to meet up with you, right?" you ask just to be sure, earning a nod from Jungkook.
"Yeah, she did. I just don't know what to expect from it." he admits quietly, causing you to frown in a confusion as you glance at him.
He sighs, ruffling his hair as he walks up to the back of the couch and leans against it. Crossing his arms over his chest, you open your mouth to ask; "What do you mean? I thought you wanted to get back together with her."
Does he have any doubts about their relationship? About Kiko? That's hard to believe. He's been so determined and even though he was vocal about his recent thoughts with you and trusted you with his struggles and thoughts, there could always be something more. Love is confusing. Thank God, you're not going through the same thing he's going through right now. Even if he's the same Jungkook, teasing you and annoying you, you know his heart is cracked and he's trying to do the right thing by listening to it.
"I want to," he exclaims softly, almost sounding annoyed at himself. "But I told you... I don't know what will happen when I see her again. This time it'll be just the two of us again and the last time we were alone, just the two of us, she told me the most heartbreaking thing she probably could've said to me. I don't know how I'll feel about that. I've no fucking idea how I'll feel when we'll talk."
You look at him with a pity in your soft eyes. "Of course, you don't know. That's why you want to meet her and talk to her."
"I love her," he admits, like it's not obvious, "But a part of me wishes I'd hate her. It would make everything easier."
"Don't say that," you whisper, "You would be heartbroken either way." you tell him, walking towards him as you give him a tiny smile.
He's looking at you, eyes traveling all over your face as they stop at your eyes. He gives you a soft look, thankful even as the corner of his lips lifts up. "Yeah, maybe you're right. But hating someone is easier than loving someone who hurt you."
"Kook, you're not capable of hating someone. And by no means you're able to hate Kiko. You're just hurt and it's completely understandable. You know how you'll feel when you meet up with her. For now, just enjoy your night and don't stress yourself that much. I know it's easy for me to say but be with your friends, get drunk or something." you chuckle and he joins you, although it sounds pressured. Not that you're surprised.
"Come here," he says, already reaching towards you with his arms.
Taking two steps, he pulls you to his chest as he hugs you. Your nose is pressed against his chest, smelling the amazing and same cologne he always wears, the same one that smells like home. Because in a way, Jungkook is your home. Your friendship is so valuable, you've never had this kind of friendship with anyone.
Growing up, you had a best friend in primary school. He was cool and you got along with him better than with any of your girl friends. You remember when you used to order pizza almost every day after school. You'd try the one with seafood and examine little octopuses with a giggle before you ate them. Those are soft and nice memories. Until you both grew up and you stopped hanging out. He started hanging out with one of your other classmates, right before you went to high school. Then you heard he started smoking weed, not that defines him as a person but when you saw him in your home city, he looked... different. It wasn't the same boy you used to laugh and joke around with. He was someone else, he grew up just like you did.
But it's different with Jungkook. You might not know him from the complete childhood days, but long enough to remember the little pimples he used to have and the innocent look along with his big eyes, that remained the same. The only difference is that he's not a boy anymore, he's a man full of muscles while his skin is filled with a couple of tattoos decorating his right arm. His baby fat is no longer present and his jaw is sharp while his cheekbones are defined. And his appearance might've changed, but he still remains the same person. Yes, you got to see new sides of him (not just from the sexual side). He's no longer the innocent boy who blushed whenever a girl talked to him. Yet, he never changed towards you. No matter how many years passed, he's still the same.
Wrapping your arms around his frame, you smile into the hug.
"I feel bad for leaving you here alone. You sure you'll be fine?" he asks softly, mouth pressed against your hair.
"Yeah," you chuckle, "I'm tired. Have fun, Kook. We'll have fun some other time, I promise."
"I know we'll, we always do." he jokes, causing you to pull away so he can see the roll of your eyes. He mimics you and snickers when you want to push him away but he doesn't let you go, arms still wrapped around your body.
"So, I guess I'm no longer your fake girlfriend, huh?" you ask, chuckling when his eyes drop to your moving lips before they flicker back to your eyes.
"Yeah, I guess you're not," he chuckles, "Well, it was a pleasure to have you as my girlfriend." he jokes, causing you to snort.
"I'm sure it was," you snicker, "You're full of shit, Jeon."
Amused smirk adorns Jungkook's lips as he bites his lower lip. "I'm not, although your acting wasn't as great as I hoped it'd be." he jokes and you slap his back, the only available place for you where you can hit him.
He laughs, throwing his head back as squeezes you tighter. "My acting was perfect! Okay, the beginning wasn't that great but it wasn't my mistake!" you exclaim, laughing through your words as Jungkook nods with pursed lips, teasing you.
"Was I good with my part of the deal?" Jungkook asks, your body tensing for a second as you tilt your head to look at him.
"Are you seriously asking me if you were good at sex?" you ask with a chuckle, trying too hard not to let your cheeks flush. Fuck, you've no idea why you're so shy all of a sudden.
"No, I know I was great," he says, earning another roll of your eyes. Seriously, you can't with him. "I'm asking if I did everything you wanted." He sounds genuinely curious, but there's a dark glint in his eyes as he stares down at you, waiting for your response.
It's not helping that he's so close to you, your bodies pressed together. You can perfectly feel his warmth and you're suddenly remembered of all the times your bodies collided with each other. There's a sudden tingle between your legs and you've to shake yourself out of it before you can let it cloud your mind.
"Uhm," you hum, although there is something else that comes to your mind. For example, like there's a lot of things that you can think of. But you don't tell him that. But judging by Jungkook's weird chuckle and the way he frowns, he notices your short and unsure answer. "Our deal is off, remember?"
"Yeah, I know." he answers, slowly letting you go at the same time as his phone starts to vibrate in his pocket. "Sorry," he apologizes but you just wave it off and wait for him to answer the phone.
"Yeah?" There's a distant muffled voice that you recognize as Taehyung, although you can't hear him properly. "Yeah, yeah I'm going. See you soon," he ends the call as he gives you a tiny smile.
"It was Tae, they're already there." he informs you, but doesn't move an inch.
"Go," you laugh, nudging his shoulder as he chuckles. "Don't let them wait for too long. You know how impatient Taehyung gets."
"Knowing him, he'll be drunk by the time I get there." he jokes, causing you to laugh because you both know Taehyung. He likes to loosen up a lot lately.
"Oh god, don't let him get drunk like he got at Jin's wedding." you whine, remembering Jimin and Jungkook coming to the rescue because Taehyung got wasted and threw up all over the bathroom. Jungkook said the sight wasn't pretty and it was a good thing you stayed at the bar.
"I'll try," Jungkook promises, flicking your nose. "You can always tag along and babysit Tae." he jokes.
"No, thanks," you snort, "I'm sure you'll manage on your own. I trust you." you pat his chest before you turn around, seeing him grinning at you as he shakes his head.
As you're ready to grab your clothes from Jungkook's bedroom, you hear his keys rustling as he calls out to you. "I've my phone with me, don't hesitate to call me if something happens." he calls out to you, a laugh escaping from your mouth as you poke your head from the bedroom.
He's standing at the front door with a hand on the doorknob, big eyes looking at you innocently although his whole appearance screams the exact opposite.
"Don't worry, dad. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." you tell him, laughing when he stares at you in a mere horror.
"Don't call me that," he murmurs, "I know you can take care of yourself, just-- yeah, have a nice evening, okay?"
You look at him, a soft smile spreading on your lips as you give him a nod. "Of course, have fun." you call out to him, giving him a wave of your hand.
You see the dubious look on his face and you just know he's deciding if he really should go, and leave you alone. Your heart warms up at his kindness and before he can decide not to go and not to have an actual fun, which he really needs, you lock yourself in the bathroom and treat yourself to a steamy shower.
Tumblr media
The blasting rap music sounds like a knife digging into Jungkook's earlobe, but the amount of alcohol flowing in his system makes one of the main sensory organs almost numb. Who would've thought a nice evening in the diner with his friends would erupt into a night full of clubbing, alcohol and loud music. Well, he could've predicted it. It always happens and deep down he knew their next steps after their stomachs are full, would lead to one of the clubs. Jin's back, glowing with happiness after the honeymoon as he didn't fail to spill some details to his friends. The mood has been great, ever since Jungkook stepped into the diner and his friends welcomed him while teasing him of his late arrival – which wasn't that late. He was only twenty minutes late but of course Taehyung teased him the most.
The whole evening seemed fun and nice, women throwing their eyes at Jungkook which he bluntly ignored and prayed none of those women would actually make their move. He would feel awful to turn down any of them, knowing they would be most likely embarrassed if he did that. Couple of drinks later when a painful realization of his current life hit him like a ton of bricks, he couldn't think about anything else than what's happening in his life.
"Jungkook," Jimin says, patting Jungkook's shoulder as he's sniffling trying to cover his face even though nobody could tell he's crying, considering the lack of light in the dimmed club. If it weren't for Jungkook's slumped figure and worried eyes of his friends, he'd just look like another drunk guy barely holding up.
Instead, he's a drunk guy with a broken heart that couldn't hold it in any longer.
"What's wrong? Please, don't cry." Jimin's worried voice fills Jungkook's ears but just as the loud and energetic rap music, it's numb to Jungkook's ears and he barely registers it.
"Jungkook, did something happen?" Taehyung asks, sitting next to him as he clutches his other shoulder in comfort. But he barely feels that, not registering his friends' voices as they're just another empty noise.
He hates himself, he's ruining the fun for his friends who came here to have fun and loosened up, not wanting to experience Jungkook's breakdown that he desperately tried to hide before they noticed it. Trying to act like everything's fine is harder when he's drunk and barely managing to control his emotions and features. He never expected to find himself in this situation, fuck, he never thought he would have this breakdown like a little heartbroken boy.
"No," he sniffles, stubbornly shaking his head as he denies quite the obvious. "I'm fine."
"It's us, Kookie. You don't have to lie in front of us," Jimin reminds him softly, his gentle voice carrying itself as it contrasts with the music. "Is it something with Y/N? Did you guys have a fight?"
Jungkook lifts his head up, staring into Jimin's worried and big eyes as he stares at his friend that sniffles and shakes his head. "No, we're good."
If Jimin remembers correctly and he does, he knows you and Jungkook had a fight or something weird happened at the camping trip. As much as you tried to put a smile on your face when he asked you about it, he's not stupid and is observing enough to notice that something happened. Of course, you both had to figure it out because he witnessed Jungkook buying you pads and tampons, seeming determined to buy you both just because he wasn't sure. It touched Jimin's heart and he's not even a fucking woman.
But it still breaks him to see his friend crying over something nobody knows about. And all of a sudden when just a few minutes ago he was laughing with the rest of them.
"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Taehyung reminds him, rubbing Jungkook's shoulder who lets out a defeated sigh. "Just let us know if you'll be okay."
Jimin nods, something Jungkook fails to see because of his head hanging low as he stares at his black boots. His whole body feels heavy, along with the alcohol settling in his stomach. Fuck, why he chose to eat that much? And drink too. He should've stopped himself, but he was having so much fun.
"It's Kiko." Jungkook murmurs, almost inaudibly but Jimin and Taehyung hear him perfectly as they look at each other confusingly, before Jungkook leans himself against the booth.
"Kiko?" Jimin doesn't hide his surprise. "What happened with her?"
"What happened?" Hoseok joins the rest of them, the three guys staring at Hoseok lapping for his breath as he spent a good thirty minutes dancing his heart out with some girls.
He frowns, worriedly glancing at Jungkook who just stares back at his older friend with a mere frown.
"I found out she cheated while we were dating." Jungkook answers, surprisingly completely clear and loud enough for everyone to hear.
Jimin gasps out in shock, Taehyung's mouth dropping as Hoseok's eyebrows shoot up in guilt and worry. Jimin sees the interaction, mouth dropping as well as he stares at Hoseok. "You knew?"
"Of course, he knew. He's Kiko's best friend." Taehyung comments, frowning at their hyung who seems guilter than ever. Especially when he sees the reddened eyes that belong to the youngest, pain visible in them.
"That's why she broke up with you?" Jimin asks Jungkook, glancing back at him but not before he glares at Hoseok. Jungkook gives them a slow nod, closing his eyes for a few moments. The pain is too much, he wishes he could just forget it and he reaches for Jimin's drink that he bought for himself but hasn't had the time to drink it, since he found Jungkook crying and all alone.
"What a bitch!" Taehyung exclaims, causing Jungkook to stop and snap his teary eyes at him while Hoseok glares the shit out of Taehyung.
"Hey!" Hoseok snaps, causing the younger man to shrug as he glares back. "It's... it's not my place to say anything. It's between you two, Jungkook." he reminds him, his voice softening.
"Are you seriously standing up for her when she cheated? What has Jungkook ever done to deserve that?" Taehyung asks, voice raising his voice as everyone stares at him with a shocked expression. Taehyung barely shows anger, if it's not a part of him playing a video game or something, so it is quite surprising to hear his deep voice getting frustrated and even more that it's aimed at Hoseok.
"Nothing," Hoseok sighs, "I'm not saying any of this is alright." he tells them gently, sitting down at the opposite of the table as he glances at Jungkook with a pitiful look.
"Well, you act like it." Taehyung murmurs, causing Jimin to sigh as he shakes his head.
"Tae," he warns him softly, standing up from his crouch position as he sits down next to Jungkook.
He watches Jungkook reach for his drink again but before he can even touch the cold glass, Jimin's already slapping Jungkook's hand away and moves the drink away from Jungkook's reach. "I think you've had enough."
Jungkook rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything as his head keeps dropping down. Thank god he's sitting down, at least he has some kind of stability now.
"I'm gonna grab some water for him." Hoseok says, excusing himself as he gives all of them a pitiful look again, looking guilty and sad at the same time.
"He does look miserable about this." Taehyung comments, watching Hoseok's figure disappearing in the crowd.
"Go easy on him, Tae. He doesn't have it easy, he's Kiko's best friend and Jungkook's friend." Jimin sighs, reminding Taehyung which makes Jungkook scoff. He heard similar words just a few days ago.
Whatever Taehyung's thinking, he stays silent and just lets out an exhausted sigh as he glances at Jungkook. He still looks miserable, the conversation bringing another set of memories and pain.
"I know it hurts, Kook. But look at the positive side, you've got Y/N. She would never--"
"We're not together." Jungkook slurs, both of his friends freezing.
"Wait, what?" Jimin asks, staring at Jungkook who seems to be spacing out as he curses when he falls forward and almost bumps his head into the table in front of him, if it weren't for Jimin's and Taehyung's fast reflexes. "What did you say?" Jimin presses, staring at Jungkook who grins lazily and closes his eyes.
"What about Y/N?" Taehyung tries, holding Jungkook in case he'd stumble forward again.
"Me and Y/N," he slurs, letting out a burp that makes him almost gag. "We're not together."
"What? You guys broke up?" Jimin exclaims, not believing his ears as Jungkook seems to live in his own little world, completely ignoring Jimin's question and reaction.
"Jungkook," Taehyung nudges Jungkook's shoulder. "You and Y/N broke up?" he asks, Jungkook eyes opening again as he processes Taehyung's question.
He sits there, staring dumbfounded in front of himself before he shrugs, remembering something. "Oh, yeah, we did." he sighs.
"What? When?" Taehyung asks, glancing at Jimin who looks just as shocked as he shrugs.
However, he's not the only one and Jungkook shrugs as well, not knowing how to answer that. What is he supposed to say? You did tell him that your deal is off today, well yesterday. It's already past midnight if he can remember.
"What about Y/N? Is she okay? Where is she?" Jimin asks, blurting out all these questions at Jungkook that makes him just shrug which causes Jimin to groan in annoyance. Talking with a drunk person is extremely hard, Jungkook is a perfect example of that.
"Fine," Jungkook slurs out, "She's fine."
"I've to call her. She's probably--"
"No," Jungkook says, trying to touch Jimin but he just pats with his hand awkwardly in front of Jimin as he stares at Jungkook with an arched brow.
"But where is she, Jungkook? I don't think a person can be fine after a breakup."
"She's at mine." Jungkook answers, Taehyung scoffing a chuckle as he seems to grow genuinely amused at the current situation. He wishes it wouldn't be so serious, maybe he'd actually laugh.
"What?" Jimin asks dumbfoundedly, "You broke up and she's at your place?"
"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, brows pinching confusingly as he looks at even more confused Jimin.
"You're an idiot. You broke up, she's at yours and you're partying here?"
"She didn't want to go." Jungkook answers innocently, shrugging slowly.
"Oh my god, Jungkook," Jimin exclaims, slapping his forehead. "Of course, she didn't. You broke up! Why the fuck is she even at yours?"
Jungkook shrugs causing Jimin to groan. "And don't shrug all the time!"
"Okay." Jungkook sighs, head hanging low as he lets out a defeated sigh.
Taehyung snickers, patting Jungkook's shoulder. "Don't yell at him, Jiminie. He's drunk as fuck."
Jimin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I've to call her."
"No, she's fine," Jungkook waves his hand. "She's probably sleeping."
Jimin stares at Jungkook, wondering if he wants to let out a desperate sigh or laugh at Jungkook's drunkenness. He doesn't do either, simply sitting in silence for a moment. It's his sudden silenced cries and sniffles that snap both men into action, Taehyung rubbing Jungkook's shoulder as Jimin sighs.
"I'm gonna take him home." he informs Taehyung, not thinking Jungkook is paying attention to both of them and definitely not to what neither of them are saying.
"You drank, you can't drive." Taehyung says, still rubbing Jungkook's shoulder as he gives him another glance of worry and pity.
"Of course, I won't drive. I'm not stupid Tae," Jimin tells his friend, "I'm gonna call us a cab and then come back here."
Taehyung is ready to nod, thinking it's probably best for Jungkook to sleep it through. He won't enjoy this night anyway, not in this state. They all will probably go home soon and Jungkook looks like he'll either throw up or fall asleep any minute. They can just pray he won't be throwing up in a cab, maybe Jimin should try to make him throw up before they'll actually hop into a cab.
"No," Jungkook disagrees, shaking his head. "No, no cab."
"Kook, we've got to get you home." Jimin reminds him softly, pulling out his phone as Jungkook gives him a glare before he burps.
He slurs something, so quiet that both men stare at him with a dumbfounded gaze, wondering what the hell he just said. Taehyung asks him to repeat it, causing the younger and drunk man to blink a couple of times before he says it again.
"Y/N," he says simply, burping again as he covers his mouth with a hand. "Call Y/N."
"Jungkook, she's most likely sleeping, you said it yourself. Let her sleep, let's not wake her up." Jimin says, wondering when the fuck has Jungkook grown so stubborn. He's always been stubborn when it came to work or his determination, but not in these kinds of scenarios. But then, those scenarios where Jungkook would get drunk and emotional never really happened.
"Call her." he snaps, causing Jimin to groan as he throws his head back.
"You're selfish, you know that right?" Jimin mumbles, chuckling when Jungkook scoffs in response and crosses his arms over his chest.
"For fucks sake, just call her." Taehyung tells Jimin, causing the both friends to glare at each other as Jimin fumbles with his phone with an unsure expression.
"You heard him," Jungkook says innocently, "Call her."
"God, you're so annoying. No wonder you guys broke up," Jimin mumbles, but not inaudible enough for him not to hear.
"Hey!" Jungkook exclaims pouting before he stares into the distance, nibbling on his bottom lip.
"You okay?" Taehyung asks, leaning forward to get a better glance at his friend's face as he sees tears falling down his cheeks.
"I can't believe she cheated on me," Jungkook cries out, falling onto Taehyung's side as he drops his head onto his shoulder and starts letting out soft cries. "Why?"
Taehyung looks at Jimin, both sharing the same look of pity by the evident heartbreak of their youngest friend that awfully reminds them of the very moment they both found out Kiko broke up with him. The only difference was that Jungkook was too stubborn to actually cry in front of them. And he wasn't drunk, but still the pain in the ass before you came to the rescue. Even though Jungkook's reaction might've been different, they can notice the pain and heartbreak in both of them. And just like before, they both look at each other while Jungkook's soft cries are muffled by the loud music that slowly blends into the background.
Taehyung opens his mouth; "Call her." Is all he says before Jimin is already searching for your number as Hoseok is coming back with the bottle of water which Jungkook refuses and almost throws it back at him, calling him a liar.This whole night became a mess, a heartbreaking mess for Jungkook and nothing seems to help. You're the only hope they all have left. Again.
450 notes · View notes
beejunos · 1 month
Text
SINNERMAN | Alastor x f.reader | part 1.
Tumblr media
Summary: After Sir Pentious's failed attempt at spying on the hotel, the Vees approach you to make a new deal—a deal that you can't refuse. Help them take down Alastor, and you will get to kill him again.
After all, the great butcher of New Orleans had killed your brother, so it was only fair that you had killed him in return. And you would love to do it again.
Tags: Alastor x f!reader, slow burn, obsessive behaviour, enemies to lovers, spying, murder
PART 1. | AO3 | PART 2.
Chapter 1. The Deal
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Hell was not just a place where souls who had done horrific things with pleasure went, but also with people who had done appalling things out of necessity. Murderers, thieves, abusers and, growing more in numbers every year, politicians - hell was not a place for the weak-minded, but sometimes a human could be pushed into such acts, not because they themselves were more inclined to such behaviour, but because circumstance could turn anyone into a bloodthirsty killer.
You were one of those people.
Condemned to Hell for an eternity for a crime that you still believed to be justifiable. After all, the great butcher of New Orleans killed your brother, so it was only fair that you killed him in return.
Tumblr media
"I told you it was a bad idea to pick that idiot to spy on the hotel. Did you honestly think it would work?" said Velvet without looking up from her phone. She was typing something with rapid-fire as she blew a bubble with her pink gum. It made a big popping sound that seemed to echo in the living room, making Vox clench his fist so as not to destroy the desk again. They had just replaced the last desk after he had dug his claws into it and left deep and long marks in the wood, and he did not feel like getting yelled at again for ruining the decor.
Vox counted to ten slowly backwards before he turned around from the monitors to look at the short woman. She was sitting curled up on the sofa before him, dressed in luxurious loungewear with hearts all over it. Valentino was sitting stretched out right beside her, his arm casually on the backrest. He was on his phone as well and did not look up when Vox came closer, but Vox could see that he was also irritated by Velvet's comment from the slight twitching of his right eye.
"Well, Velvet, my dear," Vox said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don't remember you having a better idea, but please, if you do, share it with the group."
Vox stopped walking as he reached the sofa, hands behind his back, and leaned down in front of the female sinner to force her to look at him. He had never been good with others ignoring him, and Velvet was taking her sweet time finishing her text before she even looked up from her phone. When she met his eyes, electricity was firing between his antennas, filling the air with static noise.
She just sighed before she picked up her phone again and started typing.
"You picked an idiot; that's why your plan didn't work. Little Miss Sunshine will believe anyone; just pick a smarter spy next time," said Velvet in her heavy British accent, popping another bubble with her gum. Vox's irritation grew with every word she uttered, and for a moment, he entertained the thought of grabbing her phone and throwing it out the window.
"And who do you suggest we'll ask?"
It took Velvet a few more seconds of searching before she found a decent photo, and then she turned her phone and showed Vox who she had in mind. The photo was old and blurry, with its subject in the distance, but it was still possible to distinguish who was in the picture. Vox turned his piercing gaze from Velvet down to her phone and quickly stepped back.
"You can't be serious!"
"Who?" said Valentino, now interested, as Vox started to pace the room. Velvet turned her phone towards the moth demon, and he reared back in alarm. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you even know how expensive she is?"
"So what? If you want the job done well, then pay a fucking professional," stated Velvet as if it was apparent.
"Professional? She runs a PR firm! Glorified party whores. Why the fuck should she be the spy?" cried Valentino, throwing his arms in the air. The gesture would have made anyone in his studio flinch, waiting for an impact, but Velvet sat rooted in her seat. She was used to the man's physical displays of anger by now but never feared them since he would never dare lay a hand on her. She lifted one of her eyebrows and continued with her argument:
"Didn't you see the fucking joke of an interview the princess did on the news? The hotel has a serious marketing problem. Everyone thinks it's a joke! What if the princess had someone to help her with the marketing and networking? Someone she would trust wholeheartedly, and that person worked secretly for us? It would be the best fucking spy! Not a guest but a staff member who could manipulate everything from the inside. We would know everything. A staff member would also be with the princess all the time and could keep an eye out for Alastor to make sure that no deal is made!"
Valentino groaned loudly before throwing his phone on the coffee table. He knew that Velvet's argument was good; he just did not like how expensive it would become if they went with it. There was a reason only the top of the elite of hell hired this PR firm, and it wasn't just for the public relations part. Rumours were travelling around the underground networks that you also dealt with some shady businesses, but who weren’t in this town?
"Can't we just kill them ourselves? I still want to shoot someone," mumbled Valentino, knowing none of his partners would accept the idea.
"And what? Piss of Lucifer for attacking his daughter? We could just piss on our own graves instead! If we pay her, we know she will get the job done; after all, you've heard the rumours, right?"
"What rumours?" snarled Valentino, sinking deeper into the sofa. His night was now officially ruined.
"No one hates Alastor more than she does."
"Well, that's not new! Half the city hates the old-timey prick." Vox, who had been pacing back and forth deep in his thoughts, abruptly stopped and turned around to look at Velvet. He also highly doubted anyone could hate the radio demon more than he did, but that was beside the point.
"So, let's use that to our advantage," said Velvet, growing more frustrated by the minute, "She is bound to at least be interested in the job if we can convince her to take down Alastor with us."
It wasn't a dumb idea, which annoyed Vox the most. However, his desire to take down Alastor outweighed any concerns for costs. He was prepared to cut his own leg off with a rusty saw if it meant he could take down the demon that plagued his very existence.
Vox sighed and crossed his arms in front of him, effectively giving up on arguing against Velvet.
"Okay, how do we contact her?"
Tumblr media
On the opposite side of the entertainment district, where the Vees residence was located, was a small part of the pride ring where the older architecture still stood. The sinners who lived there were usually the ones who had stayed in hell the longest, many of whom had lived during the 18th and 19th centuries. There were fewer flashing lights and billboards in this part of town, but that did not mean that the sinners who lived there were anti-technology—for the most part.
That was why you liked living in this part of Pride, being from the early 20th century yourself. There were no loud noises, and during the night, you would, on more occasions than not, get a good night's sleep. Compared to the entertainment district, where no one seemed to sleep ever.
Your PR firm was located on the top floor of an old Gothic Revival building in the centre of this district. With its intricate stone details and towering spires, the building could feel almost cluttered and overwhelming on the outside. However, the rooms were spacious and elegant, with large stained-glass windows that cast colourful lights throughout the building.
You loved your office building and its moody exterior and interior. It made you feel like a character in one of the gothic novels that you had only learned to appreciate after your death. You could also argue that the whole thing had been influenced by the fact that when you had died and woken up in hell, your soul had taken the form of a bat. Reminding you of the book Dracula that your mother had loved so much, but that was irrelevant.
Walking around dusty old stone buildings, surrounding yourself with heavy wooden furniture and thick dark fabrics worked much better with the wings, big pointy ears, claws, and razor-sharp teeth you had now.
You had tried in the beginning to surround yourself with things that reminded you of the time you had been alive, but as time ticked on and the years went by, you could not help but leave most of the 20s and 30s behind and welcome the new ages, and all their inventions and quirks, with somewhat open arms. Your youngest assistant, a young sinner named Claudine, who died at the age of 25 in 2015, talked a lot about how similar social media in hell was to when she was alive, but considering the things she liked to show you, social media was one of the inventions you did not have any interests in. Your people could handle it for you instead, and if the three overlords that had strolled into your office like they owned the building were running the biggest tech and social media company in pride, you would happily leave that responsibility to Claudine.
Vox, Velvet, and Valentino were indeed a sight to behold. A poor sight for you. Their fashion and colourful clothing clashed horribly with your moss-green couch.
It was always a satisfying experience to observe new customers arrive at your office. However, this time, you could not help but wish they would just leave.
You put down the silver tray you held, with all the teacups and the teapot, on your mahogany coffee table and sat in the armchair on the opposite side of the sofa. Slowly, you started to pour the tea from the pot into the small and thin teacups before handing the first to Velvet. 
"Suger?" you asked, opening the lid to the sugar bowl. 
"Yes, please," she said, putting two sugar cubes in her tea. The smaller sinner grabbed one of the tiny spoons before she started to stir her tea, making the spoon hit the side of the teacup. The clinking sound seemed to bounce around the room endlessly. She may not have the most refined manners, according to you, but you suspected that she was the one who had wanted to see you in the first place since she was the one who was behaving the best.
"I must say, I was quite surprised when my assistant said that the Vees were waiting in my office." You took one sip of your tea that had one sugar cube and a dash of milk in it. "It is not often that I get these types of unplanned visits unless someone is in dire need of their reputation being saved, and last time I checked, you three had your own PR team." 
"We are here because we are interested in your more niche skill sets." 
Now, that was far more interesting. You had a sense that the Vees were not here for what your company offered on the outside but more for what you could provide that was strictly off the records. 
You looked over at Vox, who had spoken. Waiting for him to continue. 
It did not take the sinner long to tell you their plan and why they had decided to contact you specifically. Hell was filled with sinners and demons who said they specialised in espionage or assassinations, and although they could get the job done, more often than not, these "professionals" would leave long traces of evidence behind, which didn't matter in the end since hell did not have any justice system to speak of, but if you wanted to be undetected, it wasn't the best solution. However, you took your job seriously and worked with the utmost discretion, which led to you now holding almost the same amount of power as any overlord in pride. The big difference between you and the other overlords was that your capabilities were mostly unknown, and that's how you wanted it. It made it easier for you to work in the shadows. To hunt and kill without anyone knowing they were being hunted.
Only two overlords, Carmilla Carmine and Zestial, knew of your strengths and often hired you to deal with others they did not have time for or wanted to make time for. Yet, if the Vees knew about this side of your work, that meant the information about your skill sets was being spread around a bit more frequently than you wanted it. But that didn't worry you too much since you could always have Claudine and Earl fix it in just a few days.
"That is not a small task you have asked of me. To take down another demon is one thing, but to take down an overlord? Who also works for the princess? Now, why would I ever do that?" 
"We're not asking you to take down the princess. Only Alastor," said Velvet, putting a hand on Vox's arm. The man had started leaning forward unconsciously, his fists closing up with every second. 
Alastor. There was no man on earth or in hell that you hated more, and you would gladly watch him bleed to death, forgotten and alone in the forest again. After all, he had killed your brother, so it was only fair that you had killed him in return. But things had changed. He now possessed a form of power that you had never seen in another sinner in all your years in hell, and it made you pause. You knew that as soon as he found out what you had done, he would avenge his death, and you were not sure that you would survive that. So you stayed in the shadows, bidding your time. 
"Either way, we are not asking you to take him down alone. We want you to ensure no deal is struck between that radio freak and the princess. Find his weaknesses and help us take him down." Vox had the sort of manic look about him that you only saw in souls who were consumed by their obsessions, making him unreliable and reckless. But a deal like this did not come to you often, the type of deal that made you believe that you could kill Alastor again, and you never looked a gift horse in the mouth.
"Very well, I will help you, but it will cost you. Five hundred souls."
"Dea-"
You did not let Vox finish before saying, "Each."
"Each? Bitch, are you out of your mind?" roared Valentino, who had been quiet up till now. Even if the other Vees did not start shouting like the moth daemon, they were equally shocked and angered by your demand.
"My prices have always been high. Take it or leave it." You looked over at Vox, staring him down. You knew he would be the first to crack and agree to your demands. Velvet may have been the driving force that had led the Vees to your office, but she was still too rational and would start to bargain with you. Vox would sooner or later let his obsession win, making him agree to your deal.
"Do we have a deal?" You reached out your hand to Vox, trying to corner him and push him into a contract with you.
Before Velvet or Valentino had the chance to stop him, Vox shot forward and took your hand, and as he uttered the words that would sign their contract, an eerie green light filled the room. Cracks travelled up the walls all around you as the howling of hunting dogs travelled with the wind that started to blow in the office. Large shadows of the hunting dogs began to grow on the walls, their red eyes fixing the Vees in their places and right as the dogs would pause and devour the sinners on your sofa, the green light dissolved, and all that was left was the four of you in your office.
"Always a pleasure doing business with new customers," you chuckled, letting your sinister smile dance on your lips.
147 notes · View notes
lunamochii · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
'your love and support is what keeps me going.' oikawa toru x f!reader
"Are you coming? Class is going to start."
You read the message of your friend replied "I am, just buying something." Bowing to the shopkeeper, you exited the shop and prepared your speech on why you are late to your teacher. Thankfully, she just let you in and your friends is eyeing you suspiciosly.
The class went on for an hour and half and with each minute passing by, you can tell your body temperature rising. You thought your fever will go away yesterday since you just stayed all day at your house. You even said no to the date you supposed to have with Oikawa. The moment the class ended, you excused yourself from your friends who wanted to know why you're late, you were never late.
"Shit.." You whine when you felt the throbbing pain inside your head again, you already drink some medicine but it's not doing any good. Looking at yourself at the mirror, you look horrible.
"Are you okay, miss?" Looking up, you notice some first years and you just weakly smiled at them
"I am, thanks." They just nodded and went out of the bathroom, after fixing yourself. You tried your best to get to your classroom, your vision getting blurry and it's like everything is spinning. The moment you open the door of your room, your head began to throb, horribly.
Last thing you heard is the voice of your classmates and friends screaming your name.
The last thing Oikawa wants right now is the attention from his fans, he likes it don't get him wrong but he really wants to focus on their training this time.
"Are you still mad because she declined your date?"
Iwaizumi said when he approach the setter, Oikawa woke him up at the middle of his nap just to cry and whine on how you don't love him anymore. He knows his bestfriend is a lil'bit dramatic so he let him rant and he just went back to sleep.
"We planned it for so long! She knows our schedule doesn't match up so we specifically agreed on that date."
The brunette huff and spike the ball he was holding and let out a sigh, if something came up you would've told him. Iwaizumi stared at his bestfriend before shrugging and returning to practice, some time later there was a commotion at the entrance of th gym
"Please! We need to speak to Oikawa-san!"
"I told you that his busy!"
Coach Nobuteru glared at his captain and Oikawa grimace and went to calm down his 'fans' but before he could speak, your angry bestfriend shove all the girls and glared to Oikawa
"Your girlfriend collapsed!"
He didn't need to get a go signal from his coach and sprinted towards the clinic of their school. He never ran that fast all his life, he was panting, hard, catching his breath as he entered the clinic where he saw you getting check up by the nurse
"Baby.." he manage to blurt out while wiping the sweat off from his face and approach where you are "Rest for 15 minutes first. Oikawa take her home after she take this medicine." He nodded and grab the medicine from the nurse's hand. The nurse excuse herself and slightly close the curtain, enough to cover you and Oikawa.
"Why didn't you tell me?" You look at him and sighs "You have a match coming up, I wouldn't want you catching my sickness."
It's true but you could have inform him, he grab the stool and sat beside you. You laid down on the bed, facing him. Your right hand slowly coming up to cup his cheeks and he groan feeling how hot your palm is.
"I'm sorry. I know we've been looking forward for our date yesterday... I'm so-"
"Shush it doesn't matter. All that matters is you'll be healthy and energetic again, okay? Now, rest. I'll go get our things, when I come back you'll take this medicine and we'll go home, okay?"
Even if you are wearing a facemask, he can still see your smile. He lean forward and kiss your forehead and almost curse when he felt his lips get burn. Even if he misses the practice tomorrow, he'll nurse you back to help. He won't get weak just by missing a single practice. Plus, when you are all well again he'll have your whole love and support and it's enough to fuel his desire to win everything in life.
193 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 2 months
Note
same hozier anon from earlier!
i was rereading your viking au and couldn't stop thinking about soap and butchered tongue!? specifically:
so far from home have a stranger call you "darling" and have your guarded heart be lifted like a child up by the hand
of course, hozier is specifically discussing the treatment of indigenous peoples and the wexford rebellion of 1978. but it got me thinking, what was soap's transition into viking life like? what is it like to speak a different language with reader when it's something shared just between them? the first time reader calls soap a term of endearment in his own mother tongue?
imo, andrew made unreal unearth with the intent of forcing us through every circle of hell and then just keeping through it all on a loop. and i thank him for it (what does that say about me).
Viking!Soap and Butchered Tongue is such a winning combination. I absolutely adore that song, it makes me tear up each time I listen to it. We'll get to Soap's backstory, his trauma, in the official story line, but for now yeah I can talk about his transition to viking life.
Strange men speaking in strange tongues, their clothing so different from his own, but their rough hands are the same, the sadness in their eyes is the same. It's human, it's familiar in a way that stings more than the cuts along Soap's face. They don't understand him when he speaks, looking between themselves, talking in quiet tones. The language they speak is rough, like hearing his own sounds jumbled back to him, but Soap's always been quick. Certain words repeat themselves, certain sounds repeated between men questioningly. He can make assumptions.
He tugs the cloak one of them men gave him tighter around his shoulders. He doesn't want to seem weak in front of them, not when they're so clearly attempting to decide what to do with him. A different man pushes the conversation apart with his mere presence, leveling Soap with an icy stare. When he opens his mouth the words that come out are rough and mispronounced, but familiar.
"You want work?"
Soap nods quickly. Work, sure. He's strong, he's smart, he'd do anything to get away from the smell of death that carried him here, he can work. Even if it's hard, even if he hates it, he can work. Anything to get off this godforsaken rock.
What he thought would take months takes mere weeks. Weeks of living with the men that call themselves vikings to pick up enough of their language to converse. "Soap" they call him.
"Because ya needed a bath," Ghost grumbles over dinner one night. Soap laughs, not because it's particularly funny, but because he understands him. It's rueful, almost despairing. He understands him. No one will ever hear the words of the Mactavishes again.
Working helps him adjust. There are things to do to keep his mind off of everything, he learns the words for ship parts before he learns colors. He knows how to count money before he learns how to introduce himself. He knows Price before he learns the word for Captain, learns not to apologize for that. He watches the sun fall, watches it rise again. He teaches Gaz a few words, stops when it makes the ache in his chest grow too big and unavoidable. They get back to his new home and he's given a share of the profits, more money than he's seen in his life. He's given a bed in the long house, warm food, new clothes, he's given a sturdy iron band to wear around his arm, if he wants.
He learns the language, the culture. He adjusts. He translates the next time they're across the sea, trading with people he no longer feels familiar to. A viking wearing his tartan over his shoulders, speaking a familiar tongue, he feels like a stranger in his homeland. He leans against Ghost by the fire, toys with the iron band around his wrist. Strangers to every land but the one that took them in.
He misses his ma.
He doesn't mention it.
He meets you like a ghost of his past. He watches your village burn and sees his own in the smoke. He hauls you off kicking and screaming, in a familiar, painful, tongue. You sound like his memories of home. You sound like the place he's never been able to forget. You mean everything to him, and you hate him.
You won't speak to him, not the way he wants you to, and it's like losing his home all over again.
161 notes · View notes