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#even though i have not only WATCHED that a year ago but also READ it
jk97 · 1 day
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Unprofessional Attraction | THREE
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♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 23.6K ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff, ANGST, and explicit content (mdni), teacher/student relationship, some other members are featured, drinking alcohol, bigdick!yunho, pet names (angel, pretty, sweetheart, etc.), possessive/obsessive/toxic behavior, cunnilingus, hickeys, fingering, praise, unprotected sex, creampie(s), jealousy, blackmail ♡ A/N - I’m soooo sorry this took me forever to write (it’s so many words ahhh 🫠) but hopefully this is worth the wait. The next part will be the finale of this series. This also isn't beta read so I apologize for mistakes ahhh. I love ya’ll, thank you for your patience friends, STREAM GOLDEN HOUR ♡
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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“You could at least try a little harder to pretend you want to be here with me, ____.”
Wooyoung’s antsy fingers pinch at the straw of his drink while he watches you thumb away at your phone. Going back and forth with your friends in the group chat about Jongho’s upcoming recital is the only thing calming your nerves this afternoon. When you had agreed to his ruse, you didn’t realize you were signing up for public humiliation. Those two words might be a bit dramatic, but sitting together in the dead center of the campus food court has you immensely anxious either way. This is entirely way too public…
You don’t mean to offend him with your embarrassment. It’s not like Wooyoung isn’t handsome; in fact, that might make things worse. It helps draw in too much unnecessary attention from other women, and it feels as though there might as well be a spotlight circling your table. Luckily, Yunho has a lecture through the next hour today, so you’re not too concerned on that front. Regardless, your first fake date with him is starting to be nothing short of awkward. 
“You can’t even look me in the eyes?” He inquires further.
“I’m sorry,” you find it within yourself to apologize, placing your phone face down on the table and sliding it away. To offset your anxiety, you put new effort into inspecting your food and preparing to finally eat it. Anything to just keep busy. “This is just a little out of my comfort zone.”
“Pretend I’m Mr. Jeong if that makes it easier,” he suggests, but his tone hangs on the edge of condescension. It’s not all that intentional, but he’s poking the bear. “I have access to the grade book all the same, you know.”
With narrowed eyes, you try to let his wisecrack roll off your shoulder, “That’s not a very funny joke.”
Continuing to avoid his eyes, Wooyoung watches you put all your attention into eating the meal he’s bought you so that you both can pretend to be on this lunch date. He was gracious enough to offer to pay for any meals you share moving forward, as long as it would make things easier on you while being a part of his plan. That’s what a real boyfriend would do anyway, right? Though, right now you’re not treating him like a boyfriend— you’re treating him like some kind of dirtbag with an open wallet. He can feel his own appetite slipping away slowly but surely.
“What are you both anyway, fuck buddies?” He asks a little too bluntly.
It might be a bit muffled, as your mouth is stuffed with food, but you still manage to retort, “That’s none of your business, actually.”
His increasing annoyance is evident by the deep exhale he tries (and fails) to suppress. Wooyoung doesn’t want things to be so tense, but you’re not exactly making it easy. He supposes you might gain some sympathy for him if he explains his troubles. You seem like a genuine person despite any contempt you might hold for him right now, so he figures you’ll be understanding. He needs to make conversation in some kind of way, anyway.
“How about I tell you a bit about my situation then?” He finally offers. You hum to let him know you’re listening, so he continues, “She and I were together for the last three years, but then she broke up with me a few months ago. And over something so stupid, really.”
“Go on,” you encourage, swallowing the bulk of food in your throat.
“Well, I need a master's degree to get the specific job I want… After telling her, one of her friends got in her ear about how me staying in school might hold her back after we graduate next year.” Wooyoung tries to sound indifferent to her friend’s heavy influence on her decisions, but the look behind his eyes, as he glances around to see if she’s in the area, says otherwise. It’s full of bitterness and hurt. “She wants to travel for a year before getting a job, and they told her I’d stress her out too much with a long-distance relationship. She took that to heart, for whatever reason.”
Would it be a lie if you said you didn’t support a tiny bit of actual pity towards Wooyoung? Probably. Knowing what you know now, you ponder more about the tight situation between you. He’s an intelligent guy, and you’re sure he knows exactly what Yunho is to you with the way you get touchy about his name even being mentioned. That’s why he’s using someone else’s happiness to retrieve his own once more. While that’s not exactly just, you’re aware that love makes people do crazy things. Moreover, you know you in particular can’t judge anyone after doing what you’ve done to achieve Yunho’s attention.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” is all you can reply, but it’s genuine.
Before you can process what’s happening, Wooyoung suddenly reaches across the table and links his fingers with your free hand in an act of endearment. Your cheeks prickle with heat, not from being charmed, but from more humiliation. This is embarrassing, suddenly having to do public displays of affection with someone you don’t even like in front of whoever is looking hard enough to notice.
“Don’t turn around, she’s here with a friend,” he mumbles, and then an affectionate smile tugs at his lips. It looks fairly genuine… He is much too good at looking charming on the drop of a dime. “Do you think it’d be too corny if we wore some matching outfits a couple times?”
You hesitate for the briefest second before squeezing his hand with false affection and leaning forward on your elbows to seem more interested.
Nobody is close enough to hear you reply, “Are you trying to win her back or get her to block you? Because I honestly can’t tell.”
“It’s just a little joke. Laugh a little, I beg,” Wooyoung pouts. 
He leads your connected hand to fondle his cheek, trying to inconspicuously guide you through the motions. If Wooyoung didn’t know any better, he would assume you’ve never been on a date in your life. His hopes were much higher than this, as you’re much too pretty to be this stiff when it comes to showing affection. It almost has him second-guessing whether he’s right about you and Yunho being involved more than just sexually. Much to his surprise, your hand finally relaxes against his face, and he revels in the way you even stroke his skin with your thumb. The timing couldn’t be more ideal, truly. He can sense the attention of his intended audience, and the corners of his mouth curl into a subtle smirk of approval. 
“That’s perfect. Keep going.” 
“Don’t push it, please.”
For the rest of that week, Wooyoung insisted on repeating these kinds of daily rendezvous. This request also accompanied another for walking each other to class when applicable. He knew he couldn’t always time it right for when she’d be present, but he had his workarounds. He was fairly knowledgeable about a few of her friends’ class schedules, and he made it a point to walk with you on paths that would often intersect with those who he knew would inform her of his behavior instead. Occasionally, he would ask you to show up to school a little more fetching than usual, with prettier clothes and makeup. Wooyoung also made a point of concealing her identity from you, for reasons unbeknownst to you. He failed to tell you any more details about her after your first date, and that included basics as simple as her name. Several possibilities were considered when you finally identified this as a problem. The rational explanation would be that he doesn’t want you approaching her on your own time and taking things into your own hands. A particular irrational explanation starts infiltrating your thoughts with the more days that pass by bearing no evidence of progress:
“I’m starting to believe this ex of yours doesn’t exist.”
Your snide remark about his secrecy started as a joke. 
“I have nothing to gain from lying to you.”
His terse reply didn’t necessarily extinguish the conspiracy behind your jest. After consistently being told not to look in certain directions for nearly two weeks, and no updates on her position, it became harder to believe his words. Despite everything, you do as you’re told and pray that his ex breaks through sooner rather than later.
I’m sorry.
It seems as though those two words haven’t stopped coming out of your mouth ever since you stepped foot in Yunho’s home this evening. 
It begins with apologizing profusely for asking to come over on such short notice. Your complex’s Wi-Fi went out due to the wintery mix storm slamming the town tonight. Wooyoung’s been trying to lay it on thick the last few days and make your presence more than known to his ex, anywhere and every way that he can. Consequently, with a lot of your free time being taken away by him, you found little time to put towards important assignments due at the end of this week. The lack of Wi-Fi is the absolute last thing you need to happen right now. 
Yunho doesn’t care about your abrupt presence at his door or even the way you track slush past his doorstep. He's more concerned about how you drove in the middle of a huge storm so late into the evening with no care for your safety. Over and over, you find new things to apologize for that make no sense to him. Another set of frazzled apologies comes from your mouth for keeping him up late after an hour or two passes. Yunho can’t help but genuinely laugh at this one.
“You do realize what day it is, right?” He inquires. The clueless look on your face makes him sit up, “It’s Saturday, ____. The day you typically come over and spend the night. I actually texted you about it earlier today, I didn’t know if you still wanted to or not since you were so busy last Saturday.”
This epiphany makes you immensely bashful and draws many more apologies out of you for your poor memory and lack of communication. How could I have lost time so badly that I forgot to reply to him about something we do so routinely? Under your stressful circumstances lately, your days are running together, and there’s just too much on your plate to appease everyone. Yunho visibly sees the shame blanket you from head to toe, and he hopes he didn’t come across as if he was upset with your behavior. In fact, he’s more concerned than anything.
Your lover can hear you type much faster after this brief exchange and he scoffs. Surely you don’t believe he’d willingly let you make haste of your work so you can disappear for another week or two… he groans internally when he realizes that’s exactly what you’re doing. He doesn’t understand why you’re so self-conscious and sheepish tonight, but he’s not going to press it. Instead, he rises from his spot on his couch and creeps over to where you’re seated at his table. His hands find the slopes of your shoulders and thumbs rub comforting circles into your muscles.
“You know you’re not going home tonight, right?” He questions after a moment of being nosey and peeking at your screen.
“And why not?”
The abrupt feeling of Yunho’s large palm skating up the skin of your throat before pushing your chin up to meet his gaze above you makes a chill run up your spine. His eyes are warm and concerned, yet stern.
“Because I said so,” he says point-blank.
Whether it be because of the terrible storm still slapping at his windows, or maybe even the fact that he hasn’t seen you outside of a classroom in quite some time, he knows this succinct answer suffices just as well those do. The subsequent pout on your lips to him is seen simply as an invitation to kiss them, and he does just that. You don’t even try to argue any further. It may not be your best work this semester, but it’s not too much longer after that when you finally submit everything due before its midnight deadline.
After briefly disappearing to his room to rummage through his dresser and change into something more comfortable, you eventually join him on the couch. Tonight’s position of choice has your head using his thighs as a pillow, cheek squished against his soft sweatpants as he spends endless minutes massaging the tense muscles of your back and shoulders with his fingers. He smells so good… that lavender and musk mix has you closing your eyes every handful of seconds just to breathe him in. Even if he can’t see your face, it’s obvious that you’re not paying attention to the movie he has on the TV, so he suggests that maybe you both should move to the bedroom so you can be more comfortable. You assure him that you’re more than comfortable right where you’re at, and that’s the truth.
Despite laying so peacefully with him, in what should be a moment of sedating intimacy, your mind is still reeling with things that need to be accomplished in the next few weeks. Every time you mentally check off something on your list, there are several more things added after, such as your three final exams, Yunho’s final paper, returning your textbook rentals, finally figuring out your ceremony dress, picking up your guests’ ceremony tickets–
“Are you going to attend my ceremony?” 
Yunho hears you mumble this randomly after a while of sitting in comfortable silence. You’re sure he doesn’t need a ticket as a teacher, but the thought of having to get them brings you back to earth and reminds you of his presence.
“That was the plan,” he confirms, but hesitantly adds, “Unless you don’t want me there. I don’t want to make things awkward.”
The way you’re acting lately has him questioning things like this, now that he thinks about it. You immediately dispel his apprehension with a displeased grunt.
“No, I… really need you there.”
Yunho’s hand falters slightly in its kneading. He’s grateful that you’re unable to see his face with how you’re lying because the apples of his cheeks are taut from the overjoyed smile threatening to break through his lips. It’s one thing to be admired or adored by someone, but it’s another thing to be needed. He doesn’t hear that word often, if at all, but hearing it come from your mouth makes it even more monumental to him. That’s something he could get used to. Yunho hums in understanding, wordlessly confirming that he’ll be present. Following along the topic of graduation, he decides to ask something present on his mind recently.
“Have you thought about what you want to do after graduation?” 
“Career-wise or celebration-wise?”
“Whichever… or both.”
You close your eyes to think. Nothing immediately comes to mind in terms of celebrating, but you’re sure your friends will be holding parties to attend. Putting that aside, you turn over and decide to open up a bit about your impending employment.
“I had a great internship last semester that I put my all into,” you divulge, “They wanted to bring me on full-time, so I asked if they could hold the position and wait for me to finish my degree this semester. Lucky me, they agreed.”
“Already set up for success right after you leave that stage… You’re amazing,” Yunho marvels. “I suppose I’m just as lucky too, huh? I get to watch you shine, front row.”
There’s a brief moment where you peer up and match his fond smile that’s already beaming right back down at you. When you reach up to caress his cheek, Yunho leans into your touch as if it’s second nature. The further you both dive into this relationship, it feels as though maybe you’ve finally found an additional frontline cheerleader.
“Mhm, something like that,” you tease. When he turns to kiss your palm in his form of congratulations, you sigh. Your hands have been tainted by someone else’s touch, and here he is blindly showing them genuine affection. Before you can help it, another apology comes out, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, Yu.”
“Why do you keep apologizing tonight for things you can’t control?” The gentle, unsuspecting laugh he lets out makes the guilt sitting in your chest about Wooyoung just a little bit heavier. “It’s finals season, I know how it goes.”
When your hand returns to your chest, your gaze falls just the same. He’s right, albeit unknowingly. With those words, you can finally accept that you have no control over your current situation at all. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself that you’re guiding this blackmail ship forward, you’re just not. In any case, you still feel like you’re doing what’s best for Yunho's future. Tonight’s tornado of apologies have all been unconscious overcompensation. As much as you feel like you need to, you know you shouldn’t have to apologize for your shortcomings when they result from such unmanageable circumstances. You’re doing your best, even if your best isn’t enough just yet. 
Yunho can’t figure out what it is about tonight, but you seem like your head is a bit more in the clouds than usual. You’re here with him physically, but he can tell you’re somewhere else mentally. However, he acknowledges that he could be reading into things too much since it’s been a while since you both have spent time privately.
“Hey, stargazer, everything okay?” he finally asks in a soft voice, gently tugging on your cheek to bring you back to the present.
“Sorry—yeah, everything’s alright,” you reassure him. There’s something behind those soft eyes you’re giving him that makes him question your answer, but he keeps those concerns to himself and simply nods. “Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll make it up to you when this is all over with, I promise.”
You’re no longer talking about school with those words. He’ll probably never truly understand how much weight that sentence holds, but that’s okay. For the rest of your time with him tonight, you pretend that none of your problems exist outside his home. He deserves your unwavering attention tonight, at the very least. 
On the first day of the following week, Wooyoung requests your presence in front of some familiar dormitories. It’s been quite some time now since you’ve been on this side of campus, considering you moved into your current apartment around the end of your junior year. The nostalgic feeling you get when meandering your way to your meeting place doesn’t do much to alleviate the anxiety you regularly get every time Wooyoung brings you somewhere so populated.
“What are we doing here again?”
“I heard she’s swinging by here today to drop something off for a mutual friend,” he explains while his eyes still scope the area for her presence, as usual. 
You busy yourself with playing on your phone, keeping your head down and yourself hidden for as long as you can manage. This place, while technically not as densely populated as the dining space you frequent, has too many opportunities for lurking gazes. This particular set of dormitories sits on the side of campus that encompasses a good amount of academic halls and the largest campus library. There are plenty of teachers and students walking to classes or accessing the library, and even more lingering outside within the surrounding courtyard despite the frigid weather. Wooyoung had insisted on holding you by your waist for the time being as well, citing something about how “normal couples warm each other up”. You just want this to be over with as quickly as possible before too many people can see you both standing so close together. 
“Hey, ____,” Wooyoung hums after a while, catching your attention quickly.
“Hm?”
Before you can even fully look up from your phone, Wooyoung’s head dips down and seeks out your lips. Shock is an understatement; the feeling of your heart seizing in unison with your limbs makes you feel like you might as well be flatlining. This cannot be—
“Relax,” he whispers before deepening this kiss, interrupting your thought as his tongue enters your mouth. 
Reluctantly, you do as he says and try your best to relax while kissing him back. Over and over, you remind yourself this is supposed to be putting on a show in front of his ex. You try to allow yourself to fully slip into the role you have been forced to play. Your hands find purchase on his jacket, albeit uneasily. For someone who’s making your life so much more difficult, you can’t deny he’s at least a decent kisser. This moment feels like it lasts entirely too long, but eventually, Wooyoung pulls away and you watch his eyes dart around somewhere behind you. 
“She’s gone now,” he sighs, “Pretty sure she saw that though. Nice job.”
“Don’t ever do that without warning me beforehand again,” you scold him in a voice low enough for his ears to hear only. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, though he follows up with an apology. Even though it seems genuine, it does nothing to quell the immediate guilt that washes over you the moment you go to swipe saliva off of your lips with your thumb. The nauseous feeling stirring in your stomach over simply kissing someone else other than Yunho begins to build up and feel unbearable, “Can I go now? I’m supposed to meet with a teacher during their office hours soon.”
Despite the tremor of uneasiness in your voice, Wooyoung believes your lie without question. That uneasiness doesn’t depart your system for the remainder of the day even after removing his presence, and you decide to call it quits early instead of attending your final class. This feeling of guilt, almost as if you cheated while in a relationship, has you more saddened than frustrated tonight. To make things easier to deal with, you repeat the same phrase about you and Yunho in your head over and over.
It’s okay, we’re not together yet.
While you cook yourself dinner–
It’s okay, we’re not together yet.
While working on your final paper–
It’s okay, we’re not together yet.
Yunho’s failure to text you back that evening before going to bed makes that fact easier to swallow. It’s the truth, so it shouldn’t be so hard to digest, right?
Yeosang does not expect much when he asks you out of the blue the next day to come and spend time with him after school. His roommate is gone for the week to visit family and he’s all by his lonesome. For the majority of the month, he’s become used to you declining in favor of completing overdue work. He’s not used to you being so behind on your work, and it doesn’t quite make sense to him when other times you say you’re even busier throughout the day. You look a bit more drained than usual when he Facetimes you that afternoon to suggest it, but he figures he wouldn’t be that upset to hear another no if you need the rest. 
The answer was yes, for the first time in a while. 
As luck would have it, the imaginary shackles on you had been released for the day, and having time to yourself for an entire weekday almost felt strange. Your personified migraine had texted you early in the morning informing you he’d be out of town for the day to attend some seminar that you didn’t care enough to remember the details of. Yeosang doesn’t do a good enough job concealing his shock the moment confirmation comes from your mouth, and you feign offense.
“I'm being punked, right?”
You scoff, “I don’t like the way you’re acting like this is bizarre, loser.”
You both know that’s a fairly accurate word considering your disappearances these last couple of weeks. His broad smile at your usual banter makes you feel cherished and missed, and it’s comforting for him to know you still have such a sense of humor even through your fatigue. He’s secretly been concerned for your well-being, but he didn’t want to seem meddlesome. Eventually, you go from two faces on a screen to you perched at his kitchen table. Yeosang insisted he cook you a nice homecooked meal when you mentioned to him in passing how much you miss eating his food. His back might be turned away, but he’s still actively engaging in discussion with you over the controversial love triangle taking place on the dating reality show he has you catching up on with him tonight. Toward the end of an episode, it takes you a few minutes of rambling to realize your best friend has grown silent while he cooks. Behind your back, he’s busy ruminating over thoughts of love triangles when he decides to finally uncork the bottle he’s been keeping closed in an attempt to have a peaceful evening.
“Can I ask you a question?” Yeosang calls out suddenly over the sound of oil popping in his pan.
Your eyes stay glued to the television, but you hum in consent, “What’s up?”
“Is it true that you’re dating Wooyoung?”
Wooyoung.
His name is a burden to you these days; the syllables of it only bring you discomfort. Hearing it mentioned on a day when you almost felt like you could get away from him draws a long beat of silence from you, though Yeosang doesn’t turn around to confront such silence. He allows you the time to answer however you’d like to if you would even provide one. Even though he was somewhat putting you on the spot with such a question, Yeosang is still your best friend at the end of the day. He’s not the kind of person to pressure you or give you a hard time about your private business, despite the times he rags on you in jest. 
The truthful answer is right on the tip of your tongue, begging to be shouted, but you don’t have the strength to say such a thing yet. Instead, you inquire, “Who did you hear that from?” 
You don’t mean to, but you sound a bit miffed when asking. Until this point, you had hoped your fake relationship with Wooyoung wasn’t too obvious to those who don’t pay close enough attention, but the feeling of failure is now pooling in the depths of your stomach. You should’ve known better. 
“When someone begins getting close to the TA who’s in charge of their grades, I guess it’s understandable that there would be some rumors… Some people in our class are saying you’re together now,” Yeosang explains, voice as calm as ever while he continues to push around the meat in the pan. “I overheard those speculations and I didn’t really believe any of it at all. Unlike them, I know you’re already seeing Mr. Jeong.”
Yeosang pauses to allow you a chance to say any words you wish to insert if anything. Being amongst speculations of wooing someone to raise your grades is the least of your worries, and you honestly couldn’t care less if people believed such silly things in the last semester of your college career. At this moment, you are much more concerned about Yunho catching light of such rumors, or really anything regarding you and Wooyoung in the same sentence reaching his ears. It didn’t seem that way when you were both in each other’s presence a few days ago talking about your future, and you’re sure that he would’ve confronted you about such things if he could. Still…
“I’m not dating Wooyoung, nor would I even think of doing that for my grades. You know me, Yeo.”
You’re sure Yeosang can feel your eyes gazing over at him now, boring anxious holes through his back. You know he can hear the uneasiness plaguing you, making your words waver.
“I understand, I do. It’s just…” Yeosang pauses once more to find the right words that don’t sound so accusatory, “Hongjoong told me he saw you both on each other on his way to class the other day. I figured I’d simply ask you about that before I come to any conclusions, that’s all.”
Several beats of silence pass before you feel like you’ve finally drowned deep in this ocean of stress you’ve been trying to keep afloat in.
“Yeosang, I’m in over my head and I can’t handle this anymore.”
Yeosang finally ceases his stirring and peers over at you the moment the last syllable leaves your lips. This is the first time you’ve both met each other’s eyes since he began cooking and his gaze is undeniably the most concerned you’ve seen him give you in years. He can’t help it when he can so clearly hear the hurt in your voice. He knows you’re a bit more reserved these days when talking about your relationship with your teacher, and he understands that it could be out of respect for his privacy. This moment doesn’t seem like a situation where that’s applicable anymore.
Navigating this situation all by yourself is draining. 
These last months in college are supposed to be nerve-wracking in an exciting way, finishing finals and prepping yourself to walk across the stage for your diploma. You’re supposed to be anxious about what to wear and how to do your makeup for your ceremony, about how you should smile when the ceremony’s photographer tells you where to look as you grab that fake symbolic roll of paper. Instead, you’ve been running yourself dry trying to appease a man who’s threatening to ruin one of the best things to happen to you thus far in life. You just want to be happy. Yeosang was right in warning you about playing with fire when pursuing Yunho, but it all still hurts so fucking badly.
“I want to help you ____, but you have to be honest with me,” he stresses, “I’m concerned about you. Tell me what’s wrong, please.”
You’re uncomfortably silent for a moment, eyes glued to his while contemplating his words. At last, you decide to broach the subject of all your mental stress. If you trusted anyone to help you navigate this situation, it was going to be him. This was no longer something you could handle on your own. 
“I’m being blackmailed by Wooyoung.”
The words don’t even sound real coming out of your mouth when you finally betray the promise of silence you made to Wooyoung.
Yeosang’s brows draw together even closer in concern, “What?”
“Wooyoung found out that Yunho and I are together,” you confess further, words running out as quickly as you can think to say them, “And now he’s forcing me to date him to make his ex jealous. He wouldn’t stay quiet otherwise, and it’s all my fault, Yeosang. It’s all my fault.”
Your best friend pushes his pan away from the eye of the stove and makes haste over to where you’re sitting. He knows you better than you know yourself sometimes, already sensing you crumbling before you can realize that you’re finally breaking down. All of the pent-up stress over the last couple of weeks was finally taking its toll. 
“I thought it would be over quickly, but it doesn’t seem like we’re making any progress,” you sputter, putting your head in your hands and pressing your palms to your eyes. The last thing you want to do is cry over a man who does deserve your tears. “He won’t even tell me who she is. I can’t handle this anymore, I just can’t.”
Yeosang’s arms wrap around you to ground you before you can allow yourself to descend further into your breakdown. Very few times has he seen your foundation be shaken so badly by something. You’re one of the strongest people he knows, and it takes a lot to disintegrate the fortitude you hold. He knows he can help you build it back later, he’s your best friend for a reason. For right now, though, he’ll let you get everything out that you’ve been holding in and dealing with by yourself. He knows you probably had your reasons to keep such things inside and away from him.
“He kissed me yesterday and I felt so guilty for the rest of the day, like I betrayed Yunho,” you tell him, and before you realize it tears are finally brimming in your eyes.
“Be kind to yourself, ____,” Yeosang hums while he holds your face in his hands. “You didn’t do that because you wanted to, it’s okay. You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore, okay?”
Hearing those words for the first time since this all began allows a veil of peace to cover you and you nod, finally accepting your need for help. Yeosang promises you that he will do whatever he can to find out who Wooyoung has his sights set so heavy on without interfering enough to throw things out of kilter. His help could be the only chance you had at getting this charade to end faster, even if it meant riskily trying to nudge things along behind Wooyoung’s back. You were no longer satisfied with being patient, and you now realize you don’t have to settle for that anymore.
While you might’ve gained some peace that night, around 2 AM that morning, there is no peace to be found in the home of your lover.
Yunho’s been staring at his ceiling for the last hour, unable to sleep even though he knows he needs to be up in a handful of hours for work. He had tried to push this situation plaguing his thoughts out of his mind all day yesterday, but his brain does its worst on nights when he’s left to his own devices and his thoughts spiral. At least tonight it’s not for self-sabotaging reasons like he’s prone to. 
He allows himself to close his eyes and relive the moment when he saw you and his assistant kissing on his way to a multi-department meeting at the library. The moment he recalls the way your hands were clutching Wooyoung’s chest, he grimaces with unadulterated resentment. For the entirety of yesterday, he felt numb. He went through the day simply going through the motions, lacking any of his usual charisma and cordiality amongst most people he crossed paths with throughout the day. He was able to put on a mask for his students at the very least. How is one supposed to act when they see their girlfriend kissing another man? That’s when he has to remind himself:
She’s not my girlfriend.
At least, he doesn’t know if you are or not, since you haven’t said it out of your mouth yet. This is exactly the kind of bothersome bullshit he was so worried about weeks ago when he realized the severity of his feelings for you. He should’ve had the conversation with you earlier to see where your head was at, but he put it off for so long under the excuse of being afraid of scaring you off. He wonders if maybe you think he’s not serious about you enough since he’s never brought it up first. And sure, he knows you both aren’t technically together right now, but you could’ve at least let him know that you’re seeing more people than him, right? It hurts a little more that it’s also his assistant of all people.
He turns onto his side in a huff and buries himself deeper under his blanket. Yunho wishes he hadn’t fallen for you so hard. It’s hard enough to deal with his feelings as things are now, especially with the circumstances, but the introduction of competition might just drive him insane. She’s a grown woman and she’s allowed to do whatever she wants, he reminds himself reluctantly while closing his eyes once more, but again—a heads-up would’ve been nice. He doesn’t even know how to approach this situation moving forward. How is he supposed to look you in the eyes today during class?
The answer is that he doesn’t. 
If he can help it, he actively avoids those engaged eyes of yours while he goes on for an hour about pragmatics. He doesn’t even look over at your side of the room. It’s not until the mid-class break that he takes multiple swift glances over at you chatting with Yeosang about something that’s got you enthusiastic. That smile on your face while excitement physically pours out of you makes his eyes soften. He wonders if you’re discussing graduation, as it is coming up in some weeks now. Then, he remembers that he wanted to take you away or do something relaxing to celebrate since you seemed to not have existing plans. Would that sway you back over to his side, if he planned something nice and spoiled the surprise early? Before he can even finish that train of thought, he finds himself finally meeting your eyes while you briefly let yours wander around in the middle of a sentence. The sneaky flirtatious wink you send his way makes him clear his throat bashfully and adjust his tie.
Yunho spends the remainder of class discussing the final paper and offering to read any final drafts that people would like feedback on, as long as they’re submitted by a specific date. He knows he’s probably shooting himself in the foot by putting that kind of work on his plate so close to the deadline, but he genuinely wants people to do well on his final and he knows there are quite a few seniors in this particular class section. The least he can do is make sure those of you end your college careers with a satisfactory grade to finish off your transcripts. He did very well with his midterm evaluations as well, so he wants to do the same for his finals. 
When class ends, Yunho finally takes notice of how Wooyoung has been leaving as early as everyone else lately. He could’ve sworn Wooyoung used to stick around to ask him questions, and often times he even departed after Yunho had already departed. He also notices that you are nowhere to be found now even though Yeosang is still present, seemingly already having fled the room for one reason or another. He doesn’t want to think about if he’s been so oblivious to these kinds of things up until this point, but the thought of you and Wooyoung rushing to meet up after his classes sticks with him for the rest of the day.
Yunho can admit he’s a bit toxic sometimes. 
It happens in moments of weakness where he lets his selfishness outweigh anything else. He reasons to himself that this isn’t one of those situations as he stands in front of your apartment door late into the evening of that same day. He had called you and asked if he could come see you at your place, which rarely happens. While it caught you by surprise, and you were in the midst of work, you were still as welcoming as ever. He knows you’d never say no. He’d never admit it aloud, but he’s not solely here just to see you—he’s here to be a bit nosy. 
It’s freezing outside, so when you finally open the door he’s scrambling to get inside.
“That was fast,” you marvel. 
When you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug, your shivers and giggles are like white noise in his ears as his eyes sweep the room. He doesn’t notice anything out of place, nothing that would make it seem like anybody other than you had been present here anytime soon anyway. His cold hands slide up the slope of your back to cup the sides of your face, and he offers you a sweet closed-mouth smile before briefly pressing his lips to yours in greeting.
“Yeah, traffic was pretty non-existent,” he hums.
“I made soup since it’s so frosty,” you glance towards the kitchen as your hands go to unzip his jacket for him, “Are you hungry?”
“If you’re cooking, always.”
Tonight, Yunho takes things slow. 
From graciously eating your cooking to cuddling on your couch, he builds up the intimacy minute by minute. It’s something he’s been craving from you lately, that feeling of intimacy and domestication. He’s more than willing to indulge you when grow aroused by something as innocent as him mindlessly drawing shapes on your thighs with his fingers, slowly shifting them inside your pajama shorts when you whisper, “I want you to touch me.”
“I’m already touching you, baby.”
You push his hand just a smidge lower, whining, “You know what I mean.”
When things finally move to the bedroom, Yunho fucks you nice and slow, and it feels much more intimate than any of your previous times together. Slow, steady rolls of his hips into yours like he’s intent on showing you every ounce of love he holds for you in his body if he’s unable to say it outright himself. Nothing inherently strikes you as odd about the way his demeanor is different tonight. In fact, this kind of pure intimacy is something you’d been curious to experience from him. It almost makes you feel like you’re officially together. Sure, sex is naturally intimate, but this? This feels different. 
His hands go from holding yours beside your head so affectionately to passionately gripping and kneading the plush skin of your sides and thighs like they’re fresh dough. It’s like he’s trying to solidify that this is reality, that you’re truly here in his hands and not someone else's. Grip strong enough to dig deep into the tissue and make you moan, but gentle enough not to leave bruising marks. Truth be told, he’d rather leave marks of where he’s been in less covert places. That’s why his mouth subconsciously finds its way to your neck before you feel the gentle drag of his teeth on your skin. It’s too quick to even be considered a warning.
“Yu, wait–”
You begin to tell him he can’t leave hickeys in such open places, but Yunho quiets you by sucking your skin anyway. The first one is on the tender skin just under your jaw, right where he can feel the pulse of how fast your heart is beating with his tongue. The desperate whine you let out when he finally lets up with a quiet pop! of his lips off your skin encourages him to put another on the column of your throat. You’ll probably throw a fit later when you see how bad these are and complain about the trouble of covering them up, but he really couldn’t care less. 
When he finishes off the second hickey, he kisses his way up to your lips so sweetly as if he didn’t do something so obviously possessive. As if he didnt do something so mischievous which’ll draw questions from your friends and get you flustered trying to explain. These marks are warnings as much as they are bites of love. You throw your arms around his neck and arch your back, itching for more than what he’s offering. It doesn’t matter that it still feels euphoric, those long drags of his cock against your walls just to fill you up again—it’s too slow. The breathy laugh he lets out against your lips draws a pout from your own. 
“What’s wrong pretty girl, don’t I make you feel good?” Yunho asks in a whisper, deep chocolate eyes holding your gaze while he continues to roll his hips at his leisure. He doesn’t like that he needs a bit of reassurance right now, but he wants to hear it so badly. When you nod with fervor, it’s just not good enough for him, “Tell me, angel. Tell me how good I make you feel.”
“You’re everything I crave, Yu,” you oblige him breathlessly, hands scratching at the sensitive nape of his neck while you arch again. For the first time this evening, Yunho’s hips falter in their steady rhythm. He’s quite caught off guard by your choice of words; it’s as if you know exactly what he needs to hear more than he does himself. “Nobody could ever make me feel like you do.”
“Yeah? This pretty pussy needs me, huh?”
There’s that word that he now loves so much: need.
“More than you know,” you gasp when he pushes his hips into yours as deep as he can manage, obscenities bubbling from within your chest.
Even though you both have had sex many times since this all began, this part still feels fresh. The way he manages to reach new depths inside of you and stretch you out to his heart’s content feels fresh every single time. Yunho’s thrusts begin picking up some speed finally and whines claw at his throat.
“My sweet, needy baby… You’re the only one who gets this, ____,” he admits, voice trembly while he drags his lips against the sensitive skin of your jaw, kissing his previous artwork, “It’s all yours, okay?”
In a perfect world, he’d love to hear you say the same back to him, but he’s snapping his hips too roughly now to allow for words. The way you begin begging for him to give you more of himself makes up for it. Bitten-off moans tumble from your lips as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, and it makes his cock throb and ache for release. The way you’re chanting his name has his eyes fluttering up in bliss. There’s no doubt in his mind that you want him, mentally and carnally, but the real question is if he’s not enough to satisfy that want. Yunho doesn’t have time to let his mind wander off into that kind of insecure territory. His brain becomes fuzzy as he becomes eager to feel you cum stuffed full of his cock, and then see his own paint your sweaty skin. Those familiar heavy pants he lets out against your lips make you simper.
“Getting close?”
“So close,” he nods, hissing when he feels you clench at his answer, “H-hah, oh fuck.”
“Wanna cum inside?” You offer this so shyly against his lips that he nearly doesn’t hear you talking altogether. When he offers you an absentminded ‘huh’ in response, you giggle and move to speak directly in his ear, “Want you to cum inside.”
Something behind Yunho’s eyes changes when you pull back—those blown-out pupils of his with little hearts swimming in them zero in on yours with a look you can’t quite put your tongue on. You cross your ankles behind his back to emphasize your words, to show him you’re serious.
“Really want me to fill you up, pretty?” he rasps. When you bite your bottom lip and nod, he offers you a lopsided grin, “Use those fingers and catch up, then.”
You don’t need to be told twice, one hand moving from being around his neck down to your clit to rub quick circles that’ll push you over the edge together. He’s never cum in you ever since you both started having sex, but he’s feeling overwhelmingly possessive today and it might just subside if he sees his cum leaking from your cunt onto your sheets. It’s now the only thought screaming at him in that fucked-out head of his. Your mouths connecting in a messy, sensuous kiss is the final push he needs.
Yunho’s fingers wind deep into your sheets with as much strength as he can muster while he buries himself inside you, pelvis to pelvis, pushing you deeper into your mattress. The throb of his cock and the broken moan he lets out while he finally cums trigger your own orgasm. The moment you lock your legs around him to keep him in place, your walls flutter and squeeze his cock to help milk him dry. He makes a note somewhere in the lusty haze of his mind that he just has to get you both to cum at the same time like this again at another point in time because the way you’re practically squeezing every last drop from him while you fall apart is nearly making him whimper repentance for how sinful it feels. When your legs let up on their grip, he gives you a few shallow thrusts before finally pulling out. Focusing on catching your breath is hard when he’s gazing so heavily at the mess he’s made of you. 
“Don’t stare...” Yunho doesn’t even realize he’s been fascinated with watching the way his seed spills from your heat until you poorly block it with a self-conscious hand. Only then does he finally look up and find you flustered, the pout on your face growing more prominent by the second, “It’s embarrassing...”
“God, you’re so fine,” he coos. The jolt your body produces when he takes his fingers and pushes what’s been wasted back into your sensitive hole makes him laugh. “Even prettier like this too. Let’s get you cleaned up, pretty baby.”
Yunho hadn’t originally planned on sleeping over—it is a weekday after all, and he has work tomorrow morning. After showering, though, his willpower is tested. He loses nearly all his self-discipline to leave like a responsible man when you use this irresistible voice the moment he steps foot back into the room, humming honeyed words while holding his briefs behind your back to keep him from getting dressed.
“Can’t you just wake up early to swing by your house and get ready?” You eventually pout up at him when he looks as if he might change his mind. With the way your gaze is focused on his attentive eyes, you can’t see the way his cock is already twitching back to life again at your pleading eyes, the same ones you use on your knees between his thighs. He’s so thankful for that. “This is why I said you should leave some outfits over here just in case.”
“I know, I know. I should listen to you more. Can I please have my underwear back now?”
“Are you gonna stay? Please?”
He chuckles before finally conceding, “I can’t say no when you ask me so nicely, can I?” 
You nearly fall apart at the way he pulls your face up by your cheeks with firm fingers before planting a kiss of surrender on your lips. Yunho doesn’t even remember why he’s over your house anymore, now only focused on getting his underwear back from your hands before you can see him getting hard all over again. He has enough sense to know that a second round will surely be much longer than the previous one, and you both need to sleep soon if he wants to wake up early enough. Lucky for him, you’re much too tired from a full day to stay up too much longer anyway.
It’s 8 AM when Yunho’s phone starts chiming with an annoying tone he set specifically to force his awakening. That grating sound is also your punishment for persuading him to spend the night. He’s slow to turn it off specifically for that reason, and a lazy smile stretches across his face when he hears you groan. Success.
“You’re so annoying,” you murmur. You instinctively search for your phone on your nightstand to glance at how early your lover has you suffering, then slowly slide yourself out of bed to go blindly search for a bottle of water. 
Yunho screws his eyes shut and open a few times to regain his vision before flipping over and patiently awaiting your arrival. He gave himself a fairly decent buffer on the off chance you decide to stay awake and eat breakfast with him. At least, that was the plan until something happened that immediately changed his brain chemistry. Yunho’s eyes swivel towards your phone when it vibrates a couple of times on the nightstand. It really wouldn’t have been a problem had he not seen and recognized the name on the screen. Against his better judgment, he picks it up gently. He sees two older notifications from the prior night and the two new ones now piquing his interest. 
[Wooyoung: Don’t forget lunch tomorrow]
[Wooyoung: Usual place]
...
[Wooyoung: Good morning]
[Wooyoung: If you get on campus by 10 let's do breakfast instead, they’ll be there. lmk]
His eyes constrict to slits almost instantaneously. 
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me… 
He doesn’t care that it's petty, he swipes each of the message notifications and deletes them with a pool of satisfaction boiling in the deepest pit of his stomach. You were too busy with him last night to notice his other messages anyway. If he could delete those messages permanently, he would. Realistically, there was no way he could keep you from eventually meeting up again with Wooyoung, but maybe distracting you enough to be late could be worth being a bit late to his own obligations. He’s extra needy on purpose this morning, immediately seeking out your attention the moment you groggily slip back into bed after chugging water. Feeling his warm hands grope your butt just makes you groan in that special kind of annoyance that naturally comes with waking earlier than need-be. When his fingers travel to fiddle with the elastic of your panties, an indirect request of sorts, you muster enough energy to nudge him weakly.
“S’too early, Yu,” you pout without even opening your eyes and bury your cheek deeper into your pillow.
“I know, I know. I have to leave soon,” he acknowledges. Still, his hand dances its way into the fabric. He watches you shudder when his middle finger pushes against your clit experimentally. His brow lifts when you open your legs. He licks his lips eagerly before murmuring, “You don’t even have to do anything, I’ll take good care of you. Go ahead and rest, okay?”
The hum you let out, signaling him to do as he pleases, has him gently working your panties down your legs and tossing them on the floor. He spends all the time he can, all the way until the last few minutes before he has to leave, with his face buried between your tired thighs. Always a starved man when it comes to your greedy cunt, the one that he confirmed last night needs him oh so much, he french-kisses his way into a sore tongue and a stiff jaw. 
“Mhm, that’s it,” he talks directly to your heat, holding open your lips with his thumbs while watching the way slick, cum, and spit seep out to sully your sheets, “Gimme another one.”
Sleepy whines and garbled whimpers of his name have him rutting his hips against your bed. He would touch himself if he could, but his hands are too busy massaging your tense thighs in rhythm with his aching tongue lapping at your clit. The friction isn’t enough. He supposes his poor underwear will just have to suffer from precum leaking out his deprived cock, drenching the fabric the more he gets aroused. Each orgasm he’s able to pull from you drains your body of its energy more and more until you’re a meek puddle of fatigue splayed out on your mattress.
Yunho doesn’t remember what number orgasm his mouth finally parts from your core, but at some point, he finally reminds himself that he’s a man with responsibilities who still has to go home and change into his work clothes. He also needs to take care of this painful hard-on quickly when he gets somewhere private. Self-admittedly, this all was as rewarding to himself in fulfilling it as it was to you receiving. Seeing you absolutely spent and on the verge of (hopefully) deep sleep puts a shameless smile on his face. 
He’s still a gentleman above anything else, taking the extra time to clean your skin and the mess he’s made of your cunt with a wet cloth before lovingly redressing you in your undies. He doesn’t even know if you can hear him after a certain point, but he still tucks you back in and whispers sweet nothings that he’ll overthink about later when he’s in his office after remembering why he was here in the first place. He even apologizes for ruining your sheets, again. The timid, fleeting kiss he leaves on your temple is followed by him carelessly saying, “Love you.”
The moment those two words tumble from his lips his eyes grow wide, and he waits with bated breath to see if you are even the slightest bit awake to hear his blunder. When you show no signs of stirring, Yunho releases all air caged within his chest and decides it’s best to leave quickly before he can make a fool of himself any further. You don’t hear from him for the rest of the day.
-
“I see… so she does exist,” you mutter sarcastically.
At the end of the week, following your shared linguistics lecture, you and your best friend convene at a table deep in the back of the library. Yeosang had spent a good amount of his time in the last few days covertly asking questions about Wooyoung to random acquaintances in hopes of getting bits of useful information about him or his ex. He was finally able to give you her name and class year, but he came up short otherwise.
“I wasn’t able to get any of her socials, I didn’t want to seem like I was pursuing her. However, I do have another idea,” he says, hands motioning for you to hear him out after he sees your spirits drop, “I was told she’s in Hongjoong’s capstone class and–”
“Oh brother,” you groan and sink further into your seat. 
If Yeosang’s words days ago were anything to go by, Hongjoong was already convinced you were dating Wooyoung, so asking him for his ex-girlfriend’s number is surely just going to cause prying questions. You’re fully convinced that he probably won’t even consider giving it to you because he might think it’ll lead to drama. 
“I know. Just hear me out,” Yeosang leans forward and lowers his voice, “I honestly don’t think it would be hard to get him to tell you. If you can come up with a plausible reason why you would need to reach out, I think he wouldn’t hesitate too much.”
“Which would be?”
“Well, I don’t know anything about her other than that she’s in a sorority. You can figure something out from that, right?”
You couldn’t deny that this was definitely a useful piece of information. Yeosang watches you purse your lips while you toss around some of the logistics in your head before nodding with some renewed optimism.
“Which app do you think I should start on?”
“I’m sure the majority of our sororities have IG pages to promote their activities. That’s probably your best bet,” he recommends, “I can help you search in between finals prep–”
“You’ve done enough, I can definitely handle that part,” you interject with a reassuring smile, “Thank you for even getting this info. I appreciate it, Yeo.”
While things definitely looked more positive from this conversation, there was an odd feeling lingering in your stomach over the next few days. From his time at your home through the weekend, Yunho’s communication and presence were lacking a bit more than usual. While it made things easier for you to see Wooyoung when requested without fear, it didn’t make things any less disappointing. Knowing he’s still there for you even through all of this mess was the only thing keeping you afloat, so it’s troubling when that disappears out of nowhere. Nevertheless, the end of the semester was creeping up faster than even you realized, so it makes sense that his schedule is being affected. Moreover, his job is what you’re doing this all for anyway, right? Even without his presence, you’d silently root for him in the shadows if it meant that December ended with you both together. 
In the meantime, you push these feelings to the back of your mind and give yourself a break from being so worrisome. With this charade moving deeper into its timeline, it’s time-sensitive and imperative to ask for his ex’s phone number from Hongjoong in an effort to contact her. Wooyoung might be intent on keeping you from meeting her, but he’s severely underestimated the fire in your belly when it comes to getting what you want. You’ve played along with his shenanigans long enough.
Hongjoong’s brows furrow while he shoves a few of the fries in his mouth from a meal you asked to treat him to this particular Monday afternoon.
“I should’ve known you wanted to see me for ulterior motives,” he takes a swigger of his soda with pursed lips, “Buttering me up with free food for my connections, huh?”
“I didn’t remember until just now, I promise,” you lie, trying to remain composed. You’re not exactly the best at lying to your close friends and this time is no different. “If I knew about anyone else having her number I would’ve asked them. I wouldn’t lie to you, Joong.”
His eyes examine your body language keenly before scoffing, “I’m still caught up on how you didn’t tell me that your mystery man was Wooyoung all this time. That was a lie by omission.”
“I am not dating Wooyoung, I already told you this.”
“Then why do you suddenly want his ex’s number?”
You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and offer him an easygoing smile that you had practiced a plethora of times before even leaving to meet him.
“I’m reaching out on behalf of a mutual friend about possibly being commissioned to make the graduation stoles for their sorority. That’s all.”
Yes, through hours of snooping and finally finding her Instagram, you discovered that she is a die-hard sorority girl for one of the smaller sororities on your campus. You had almost talked yourself into simply contacting her there, but as luck would have it, her messages were turned off for strangers that she doesn’t follow back. There was no doubt in your mind that she would never follow you back if you tried that route.
“You sure you’re not trying to stir the pot?” Hongjoong inquires playfully, eyeing you with an elvish grin. You groan in annoyance. “I’m all for a little mess sometimes, but I don’t like being the gateway.”
“Come on Joong, it’s nothing like that at all. I didn’t think you would be so difficult to ask about this… You’re supposed to be my rock—”
Your heart is threatening to break out of your chest when he holds up his free hand to quiet you with a roll of his eyes. Then, with his other hand, he finally scrolls through his phone to find said information.
“I’ve heard enough, please stop being so dramatic,” he sighs. His thumb stops swiping as soon as he sees what he’s looking for in his class’ group chat, and he hands you the phone reluctantly. “Under no circumstances do you tell her who gave this to you.”
“You know I love you the most, right? Even more than Yeosang!” You smile and he matches it sarcastically.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you liar. I love you too.”
While Yunho’s impromptu visit might have subdued his anxiety briefly, he knew it wouldn’t be a permanent fix. He spent some time away from you under the excuse of helping other people prepare more for the final paper deadline approaching, but that only made things worse. The longing he feels these days is stronger when he realizes you could be spending the valuable time he’s avoiding you by seeing Wooyoung instead. It’s embarrassing really, being so envious of someone younger than him. He shouldn’t be letting some university student get under his skin so easily, but there’s too much he’s given of himself to you to just be calm and collected about things. 
These things swirl about in his head while he’s seated alone at the bar’s counter, patiently waiting for his friends to finish playing Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who pays the tab tonight. It was fairly evident that it had been a rough start to the month for Yunho from his mood, so his best friends were intent on treating him tonight. Today and the next were the university-designated study days for finals. Seonghwa personally coaxed him out of hiding by stopping by his home and offering to drive. He knows Yunho has a hard time saying no when confronted directly. As karma would have it, it was looking to be an expensive night for Seonghwa unfortunately, marked by the heavy groan Yunho can hear come from behind him when the two finish.
When he finally joins Yunho at the counter, he searches through his wallet for his credit card while asking, “Which beer do you want?” 
“I need something stronger tonight,” Yunho states before flagging the bartender down himself.
Nowadays, he’s more favorable to something light and bubbly like beer because it’s easy on his body and the buzz is manageable over a longer period of time. He can’t remember the last time he drank pure liquor… It had to have been New Year’s Eve or some other holiday that’s usually burdened by alcohol. Yunho’s not remarkably sensitive to liquor and he’s by no means a lightweight, but tonight he’s truly done a number on himself. Three Long Island Iced Teas and a few extra shots of rum have him loose and on stage in front of many eyes doing what he does best: singing. Singing karaoke duets with Seonghwa always makes him feel like a college student again, bringing him back to the days of their music classes.
When the next hour comes around and several more shots enter his system, the second phase of his inebriation hits: heartache and depression. Distractions are wonderful until they’re not, and his throat hurts from doing too much falsetto. He keeps thinking about how he’s supposed to show you this side of himself eventually, serenading you like a cheesy romcom just to hear your pretty giggles telling him that he actually sounds like an angel, and those thoughts make him sad. On top of that, his social battery is depleted entirely and now all he can think about is going home. Distancing himself for the last several days is finally coming to an end, as you’re the only person he can think of to call since he doesn’t want to ruin his friends’ time by asking Seonghwa to take him back home. While booking an Uber ride would’ve been the smarter idea, Yunho’s too lovesick to pass up on a moment to hear your voice right now.
So, while Seonghwa is busy using the bathroom and San is distracted by an attractive woman who’s gone out of her way to challenge him to a game of pool, his hazy eyes manage to find your contact card in his favorites before calling you. You take a bit longer to answer than usual, but the moment he hears that familiarly sweet ‘hello there, handsome~’ come across his speaker, he physically melts into a heap on the counter. You can overhear the loud music coming through the speaker clear as day and figure he must be at the bar tonight with other teachers since they’re all essentially off tomorrow. Calling you of all people while with his friends is risky, but you understand why he’s being so reckless the moment he opens his mouth.
“I need to see you, please,” Yunho drawls, his free palm pressed to his forehead to ground himself, “Drank too much, wanna go home.”
“Where are you, Yu?”
Yunho’s heart feels like it’s ready to take flight at the way you ask this with no hesitation and how he can hear you already shuffling to grab clothes. Maybe your feelings are as strong as his afterall.
“At that dumb bar near campus. Hwa drove me,” he sighs, and you can practically hear the drunken pout stuck on his lips. “I’ll just send my location… Can you come, baby? Please?”
“Of course, I’ll come take you home. Sit tight, I’m leaving now.”
When you do finally arrive, Yunho lets his friends know that he ordered an Uber to go home, and successfully convinces Seonghwa not to walk with him outside even though his steps feel leadened. 
“Go back to karaoke,” he waves him off with an anxious smile, “I’ll let y’know when I get home.”
Parking so close to the entrance might’ve been a bit daring on your part, but you expected Yunho to have some trouble walking too far with too much distance. To offset the risk, you’re donning a black face mask with the hood of your jacket pulled over your head, and you figure that should conceal any particulars about you enough for any lurking eyes. Yunho’s surely more operational than he sounded over the phone, and even though his feet are slow on his way over, he slides in easily enough and even buckles himself in. From there, you focus on leaving the area before either of his friends gets curious enough to look outside.
The drive is comfortably silent. You keep the music low and drive a bit slower than usual to make sure he doesn’t feel too dizzy during the trip. Yes, you care for the man dearly, but the last thing you need is his vomit in your passenger seat. With his head resting idly on the cool glass of your window, he tries to relax his mind and settle the stuttering of his heart. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to be around you right now.
“Overdid it tonight, huh?” You ask him after a while to make sure he’s still conscious. 
“I don’t ever drink this much,” he replies with his eyes still closed, “M’so sorry for bothering you so late.”
“You didn’t bother me at all. Go ahead and relax, we’re almost home.”
His call was perfect timing actually, as you were just wrapping up exam prep for the day. Usually, you don’t take study days seriously, but with this being your last semester you figure giving your all includes taking advantage of the academic liberties that are offered by your university in exchange for not having to go to class. He was on your mind tonight as he always is, and even though the moment is unconventional, you appreciate him finally calling you at all. That’s all you can think about for the remainder of the drive to his home.
This is so embarrassing, he mopes internally. Yunho feels extremely vulnerable with every lug of his feet up his steps to his door. He’s not sure he ever wanted you to see him in such a state either—liquored up and liable to say anything lingering in his chest without inhibition—but it’s too late to worry about those things now. 
“Thank you for coming,” Yunho sighs upon entering his abode, shrugging off his coat and kicking his shoes off to a place he probably won’t remember tomorrow. 
His throat is dry and itching for something else, anything other than liquor. You know better than anyone that he needs to be drinking water right now and flushing his system as well. Closing his front door, you follow suit with your shoes and jacket.
“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart,” you assure him with a smile, “I’ll go get you some water.”
However, before you can slip past him, Yunho’s warm hands gently clasp around your cheeks. Your back hits the door as his sticky liquored lips squish against yours in an affectionate kiss. Much to his dismay, after only a few seconds of gratification you manage to pull back enough to talk.
“Water first, kissing later. Okay?” You chide with a giggle. 
Yunho makes a whiny noise in the back of his throat in place of a ‘no’ before stealing your lips once more. This time, his arms fall to wrap around your torso. There’s something desperate about the way his arms squeeze the air out of you as if he loosens them even in the slightest bit you might slip right from his grasp. That’s how he’s felt for some time recently like you’re slipping away right into someone else’s arms. Somewhere deep down in his intoxicated subconscious, he’s able to acknowledge the feeling of his heart slamming against his chest from pent-up anxiety of seeing you again, touching you again… and maybe lack of oxygen. Yeah, perhaps that’s what this intense feeling is building in his chest is, a blatant lack of oxygen. Breathing is just not something present in Yunho’s impaired mind. 
You, you, you, you, you!
All he wants to do is think about how he loves you more than you know.
He feels like he’s suffocating, but his brain won’t let his limbs move to breathe, lost in the thoughts and desperation of just needing to be connected to you. Just then, when he feels like he’s about to nearly pass out, you find the strength within yourself to push him from you hastily. The way you gasp for air lets him know that he was inadvertently suffocating you as well. His arms finally release their intense grip and a flurry of apologies tumble from his lips.
“M’so sorry,” he offers one last time, words running together, “I just missed you so much.”
Yunho’s head falls and rests in the crook of your neck while embarrassment floods his cheeks. 
“It’s okay, really. I missed you too,” you tell him, lungs settling while you card your fingers through his hair soothingly. He’s so fragile at this moment and seeing this side of him makes your heart melt. You could never be mad at something like a little stolen oxygen. “Let’s get you settled in first though, okay?”
“Please le’me stay like this for a couple minutes…”
He’s a bit dizzy, and your fingers lovingly massaging his scalp are making his heart feel ready to burst out of his chest. It doesn’t matter that he’s older than you, or that technically he’s an authoritative figure in your life. You’re always so soft with him, so attentive to his needs, and tender in your touch. You even came and picked him up while he was a mess, with no hesitation. For some reason, in Yunho’s inebriated mind, he’s so sure that a positive answer to this next question will finally solidify your loyalty and how you truly feel about him. 
“Can you stay with me tonight?”
There’s a moment of silence where you’re unusually still, and Yunho can practically hear your answer before you even open your mouth. Mentally, you’re battling with yourself because of premade morning plans with Wooyoung interfering with his request. Normally, you’d never decline to spend some extra time with him, but you’re not sure if blowing off Wooyoung last minute will have some consequences. Yunho’s the most important thing to you, but which choice proves that the most? 
“I have some important obligations in the morning, Yu,” you mumble a moment later, unable to outright say no. It’s hard, but you figure the best way to show him his importance to you is to put his career first, ahead of your feelings. 
In the crook of your neck you can feel him inhale, and for a second, he’s so still that you could’ve believed that he’d passed out. You’re just about to call his name when you feel him begin to tremble and snivel, and alarm bells begin blaring in your head. Lifting his head with your hands gently, you gaze up at him in panic.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” You comfort him softly, thumbs on either side of his face wiping away fat tears that begin spilling down his rosy cheeks. “I’ll stay, I will. I’m so sorry baby.”
“I can’t do this anymore, ____.”
You’re no longer worried about the warm tears spilling onto your fingers as you are the immediate tightness in your chest at such simple words. Simple, but hurtful. The last time you heard that kind of sentence, it was followed by a breakup. The pang in your chest at the realization that this is what’s probably happening makes you feel sick. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t blame him if your behavior over the last few weeks ended up being the final straw for him, and if leaving him alone drunk was the cherry on top. Your diminished communication and sudden lack of availability with obligations you could not explain… and who knows what he’s heard about your increasing closeness with his TA, if anything. You ponder if maybe that’s why he has been acting differently recently, how perhaps the rumors had finally gotten back to him. It’s hard to meet his eyes while you try to prepare yourself for words you figured you hear eventually but still never built your confidence up enough for.
“Look at me, please,” he requests. It takes a moment, but you find it in yourself to do as asked. The way Yunho’s glazed-over eyes only hold dejection when you meet them lets you know something is seriously wrong. You’ve hurt him, you just know it. You’re not sure what to expect, but it surely isn’t him following up with, “I love you so much, it’s beginning to hurt, ____.”
Yunho didn’t expect this genuine divulgence that he had finally found within himself to reveal to be met with annoyance of all things. The way your brows crease and the corners of your mouth downturn throw him for a loop.
“I know you’re drunk but you really shouldn’t say a serious word like that so easily,” you chastise him in a soft voice. 
The gentleness of your tone doesn’t change the fact that you mean that statement wholeheartedly; he’s never used that word with you when sober, so why now? You don’t want to be made a fool of when these drunken words get taken back when he’s in his right mind tomorrow. Being drunk doesn’t excuse playing around with your feelings like that.
“I mean it. I do love you, so much. Not gonna pretend to be so casual about things anymore,” he retorts. While his voice still has that intoxicated twang in it, it’s now alarmingly firm.
That sudden tone and the way his face remains determined to make you understand him make your heart stutter. In the context of romance, ‘love’ is a word you haven’t heard from someone in a long time. To be fair, it’s a word you haven’t offered to anyone you’ve dated in a long time either. How long has it been since you met someone worthy of a word that powerful… You’re at a loss for words. The increasing tightness in your chest with the more you take in the situation won’t let up, and you wonder if he can feel your anxiety through the trembling of your hands still caressing his wet cheeks. 
Yunho doesn’t mind that you don’t say it back, he may be intoxicated but he still knows he’s coming on very strong right now. Instead, he adds, “You don’t have to say it back, but I can’t handle not knowing what I am to you anymore. I can’t tell how you really see me.”
The way your face immediately only offers confusion at that final statement is involuntary—his complete obliviousness to how you feel about him, about everything you’ve done till this point, is just baffling. Despite any impending consequences of being involved with your teacher, you’ve given this man so much of your time, your adoration, your body—what is there to question? When you finally take your hands back and place them on your temples, Yunho senses your frustration. He begins to feel bad when he realizes too much liquid courage may have made him go a bit too far.
“Yunho, I thought it was pretty obvious that I want to be with you. I’m just waiting for graduation to say it officially,” you explain. “I– We’ve been dating for 3 months, for Christ’s sake.”
You try to remind yourself that he’s intoxicated and that maybe you should treat this situation with a bit more grace. The next question he throws out completely shatters that mindset.
“Then why did you kiss him?”
The immediate mortification you feel at that string of words hits you like a sledgehammer, and the silence that consumes the room following this question is deafening. Yunho’s eyes hold your shameful stare before you finally become physically uncomfortable, and you avert your gaze sheepishly. Yes, you had considered he might catch you in the act sooner or later, but did it have to be the stupid unwanted kiss of all things? This is not something you had readied yourself enough to be confronted about. It’s something you wish you could’ve taken to the grave if possible.
The lack of an immediate reply to such a simple question has him pressing his palms to his eyes because he feels himself needing to cry again. He’d do anything to turn off those leaky faucets behind his eyes for good right now if he could. Crying over someone he had no business falling for in the first place is exasperating because he knew better. He’s sure he’d be able to compose himself more than this if he wasn’t so drunk as well, but it’s too late for those kinds of thoughts now. Everything is out in the open, all the way down to the intensity of his feelings for you, and there’s no turning back.
“It’s not what you think, Yunho,” you finally offer after taking some seconds to sort out your thoughts. The thing is, there is no other viable option at this point: it’s either tell him the truth or lie and break his heart further. You would never consider doing the latter. “I want to explain, but this isn’t the best time—”
“You can be honest, I promise I can handle it,” Yunho interjects. He runs his hands through his messy hair, trying to mellow himself out and prove that statement, but his insecurities start to get the best of him. Words begin spilling out of his mouth without much thought, “Is it because we can’t go out like normal couples? Am I not giving you enough attention? I know it’s tough right now but—”
“No, no, of course not! None of that matters to me in the slightest.” 
“What is it about him, then? If it’s something I can fix or do better, I will. I promise,” he tells you earnestly, but his face already looks defeated. He still can’t even say his name. Seeing him so distraught and broken like this over your actions is like a stiff punch in the gut. The last thing you ever wanted to do was make Yunho feel like he’s not enough.
Instead of answering, you ask him, “Do you trust me?” 
As much as he should be inclined to say no with everything he’s seen, or the way you won’t give him straight answers, he just can’t say no.
“Of course I do.”
“Then I’d really love for us to have this conversation in the morning when you’re sober,” you insist, hands seeking out his for comfort and reassurance, “Please, Yunho.”
“And what happens if I wake up alone again?”
There it is. The hint of pessimism screaming at him in the back of his mind slipped through. He remembers the last time you left with no word and how it sent him irrationally spiraling. He just needs that final bit of reassurance.
“I’d never do that to you again, okay? I love you too much to hurt you like that. I promise.”
Yunho's left mute at this reply, damp lashes blinking repeatedly as his brain struggles to compute that you just said three very pivotal words he’s never heard from anyone else he’s ever dated. After not immediately reciprocating his sentiments earlier, he didn’t really ever expect them to come from your mouth anytime soon. 
“You…love–”
It happens way too fast, the wave of nausea that consumes him with how overwhelmed he begins to feel. Pulling his fingers away from yours, he clasps a clammy hand over his mouth and stumbles off toward his hallway bathroom in haste. This, of course, is not the ideal response you’d like to get back after fully confessing your feelings to a man. You try not to take it to heart and finally go to grab some water for him while he’s emptying his stomach in the bathroom.
The night comes to a close not too long later with you both burrowed in the blankets of Yunho’s bed, and he falls asleep against your chest faster than your brain will allow you to join. How lucky he is to have alcohol easily lull him to sleep after such a mess, you muse. You suppose this is as good of a time as ever to sort your thoughts and words for your explanation tomorrow. That and the possible consequences following you finally revealing the truth. While Yunho might seem mild-mannered and easygoing on a day-to-day basis, you are now aware of just how sensitive he is as a person inside. He feels with his whole heart, and he keeps certain things locked inside of him. You want him to feel comfortable enough to share those things with you as a partner. You want him to trust you wholly with his entire heart, but you suppose that begins with being entirely honest with him first. He’s more than enough, and you want him to believe that. Before you can let your mind wander too deep into the territory of that subject, your eyes finally feel unbearably heavy, and you fall asleep with your fingers curled around his own a little more securely than usual.
One thing Yunho prides himself in is not being prone to heavy hangovers, and this morning is no different. From his first couple years in college, he had learned that lots of water, sleeping in, and a good meal was the cheat code to his body’s ability to survive a night of binge drinking. This was partially thanks to his first roommate who was a Nutrition Major, because if he couldn’t discourage him from drinking he could at least aid him in recovering from it. Aside from you forcing him to drinking a few water bottles before he could sleep, throwing up the prior night and purging most of it helped a lot as well, of course.
You’re not in bed when he stirs awake, but he can hear miscellaneous noise coming from another part of his home and smell the third element of his cheat code in progress. When he finally ambles out of his room and into his kitchen after chugging the bottle of water left on his nightstand, he finds you cooking something with what little groceries he has stocked in his fridge. The sound of him pulling out a chair at his table tears your attention away from the stove.
“Good morning,” you hum. He seems fully coherent, which makes things much easier on you. “How’s your stomach?”
Yunho rubs his bleary eyes with the back of his hand while yawning, “Much better… What time is it?”
“Around eleven, I think.”
“I thought you had something to do?”
“I canceled,” you tell him, “You’re more important.”
Earlier, while Yunho was still passed out, you found some time to slip away and call Wooyoung to raincheck. You’re not entirely sure if he believed the performance you put on about coming down with something last minute, but it didn’t matter. The least he can do is give you a day off of this charade. You move the food you’ve been working on off of the stove’s eye and turn off the heat before snatching up his mug of coffee and joining him at the table. 
You look different this morning, the way your eyes lack any of their usual whimsy or humor, and how you sit yourself to his left with body language more reserved than normal. Your stress is palpable, and that doesn’t help settle the sad feeling beginning to manifest in his stomach when he realizes the conversation that’s about to begin. Nonetheless, he decides to prepare himself for the worst.
“I promised you an explanation,” you sigh, “So let’s talk.”
Messily relaying this story to Yeosang first helped you a lot with finding the confidence to make things more concise if a moment like this were ever to happen. You were able to tell Yunho the full extent of Wooyoung’s actions without getting as emotional as the last time. Even though you were trying to be truthful, you ultimately decided not to tell him about trying to connect with Wooyoung’s ex behind the scenes, as you didn’t want to give him any false hope if things happened to fall through. When you finish spilling anything left lingering in your guts about the entire situation, there’s an unbearable silence that settles over the whole room. Yunho’s eyes are trained on his coffee, finger circling the rim of his mug while he lets his mind run wild. The guilty feeling that washes over you feels heavier and heavier with every passing second of him not replying.
“I’m really sorry,” you finally break the silence with a final apology. “It’s my fault for being so pushy in your office that day. This wouldn’t have happened if I had just taken no for an answer.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, ____,” Yunho tails your sentence quickly. The tension in your chest finally dissolves when he speaks, and hearing his caring voice is really all you can ask for right now. He reaches a gentle hand over the table to cover yours for some well-needed comfort, before offering you a soft, sober smile, “I don’t want you beating yourself up for decisions we made together. I’m a grown man who makes my own choices, don’t forget that.”
When Yunho dares to ask how far Wooyoung has made you go for him physically, you assure him the worst has only been that kiss. 
“I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t fucking suck,” he groans, brows furrowing at the thought of being so stuck between a rock and a hard place, “I would remove him from class if I could. Seeing his face is going to piss me off even more than before.”
“I understand. The semester ends in a couple of weeks though… I know it might be a lot to ask for from you to deal with, but it won’t be too much longer,” you offer resignedly, though it’s not much of a consolation. Optimism is the only thing you have worth giving him at this point. You’re only optimistic yourself while banking on his ex wanting to meet with you. When he goes from frustratedly rubbing his eyes to running a hand through his hair, you feel the need to add, “I’d understand if you don’t want to deal with that though.” Yunho turns to you, his expression one of sheer incredulity.
“You really believe I would willingly let someone like him end our relationship?” The teasing lilt in his voice is refreshing to hear, even if it is a serious question underneath. He reaches his hand over and holds your chin while assuring you, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, okay?”
“That sounds more like a threat than a promise,” you chuckle.
“Maybe he should take it that way, then.”
For the remainder of the week, Yunho tries to bear through the new knowledge that Wooyoung is somewhere on campus turning you into a puppet for his own gain. It hits harder on the days when he texts you in an effort to check in on things but is met with radio silence. He was made aware that Wooyoung preferred you off of your phone when with him, but goddamn was it annoying. For your sake, he tries to keep these kinds of grievances to himself. He knows he needs to be supportive if he can help it. During this time frame, you also secretly began your effort to contact Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend. Getting left on read with your first message was to be expected. It took her a full day before she entertained you by replying back, even if it was a little snippy. Regardless, her replying at all was a step in the right direction. She opened the door and you planned to slip your way in as best you could. Between Yeosang asking for updates, his ex contacting you sporadically throughout the days, and Yunho checking in occasionally to make sure his assistant isn’t causing you problems that he’s more than happy to fix, you decide it’s best to keep your phone face down and away from Wooyoung when you’re together this week. Even if you want to keep up with your friends to pass the time, it’s just too risky.
“You haven’t told him anything, correct?” 
Wooyoung asks this out of the blue when you both convene for breakfast on Friday. You find it funny how neither of them can say each other’s name, but you suppose Wooyoung is a bit more cautious these days to keep you from getting an attitude. You’re much too tired to even entertain such a question, but you don’t want to cause any suspicion by choosing not to answer.
You yawn after muttering, “No, why?”
“He looks at me differently these days,” he muses, pushing his fork into the plush of his lips, “It’s giving me bad vibes.”
“He has a lot on his plate with finals that you can’t help him with. I’m sure the stress is overwhelming. Cut him some slack.”
Picturing Yunho trying to give Wooyoung the evil eye when they cross paths everyday has you turning your head away, suppressing a smile to keep from laughing at the end of your sentence.
“You know better than I do,” he acknowledges with a nod and leaves the conversation at that.
Yunho begins losing a bit more of his resolve that same day when he catches Wooyoung rushing to meet you out the door after class, calling out your name right in front of his face. He doesn’t particularly care for the carefree tone of his voice, and he feels like doing something so openly is too cocky for his liking. His fingernails rake at the material of his slacks irritably from behind his podium as he opens his mouth.
“Wooyoung,” Yunho calls out before he can consult his better judgment. 
When his assistant spins to face him, Yunho finds himself at a loss for words. He didn’t really think this part through. His eyes flicker to you, who’s waiting patiently by the door for your puppetmaster to join you, then back to Wooyoung. That’s when he makes the executive decision to steal him away from you for the next hour or so. He deserves that satisfaction at least. 
“I wanted to discuss some things about my schedule regarding final papers next week, and then submitting final grades,” Yunho exhales while clasping his hands together. 
He throws in a free and easy smile to twist the knife because his assistant loses all joy in his face at his words. The brief glance you exchange with your teacher as Wooyoung reluctantly ambles back to his station holds a world of emotions, conveying everything words cannot. The gratification he receives from simply seeing you nod and smile while departing alone for the day gives him everything he needs to complete his day with renewed composure.
Mondays generally suck for Yunho, but this final one of the semester is absolutely atrocious.
Today, he’s had the worst technical difficulties in both of his morning lectures with no valuable help from the University’s IT department. One of his biggest pet peeves is not being taken seriously when he’s working, especially as a younger teacher, and it seems that they put his issues on the back burner all morning since he’s not one of the elderly professors. Regardless, he made things work even through the giggles of some students. It’s his final class before exam week begins, the least he can do is end his spiel of encouragement towards the final paper deadline on a good note.
If things had ended there, then he would’ve had a decent rest of his day. Spilling hot coffee all over his white button-up that he rarely ever even wears puts a permanent grimace on his face for the remainder of the morning. He tries his best to dab it out with water when he gets a free moment during his lunch break, but he’s one hundred percent sure he made the liquid spread much worse. Coupled with him not even being able to put his tie back on properly in an attempt to fashion it in a way that hides the stain, he’s exactly three seconds away from deciding to go home for the rest of the day. 
He decides to work through lunch in his office instead so he can end the day early once he’s finished. At least this way nobody could see how much of a mess he is today. But, after a while of Yunho holing up in his office and hiding from the rest of the world as long as he can manage, his phone vibrates with an unexpected call from San. He presses the answer option reluctantly and puts it on speaker.
Before he can even say hello, San’s voice is already excitedly asking, “You on lunch?”
“Something like that,” he chuckles weakly, and San can hear the clicks of his mouse in the background. When he hears San ‘tsk!’ in disapproval of him working, he sighs, “You know me, work’s never done. Shouldn’t you be teaching a class right now?”
“Bathroom breaks are important for everybody.”
“And you decided to call me during yours why?”
“Listen, I know you told me not to make any unannounced visits to your classroom but,” San pauses to laugh at the foolishness of what he’s about to say. “But, it seems that your student has done this to me today instead. I suppose that means today is fair game, right?”
Yunho’s hands pause their movements as he filters through his mind what exactly his friend might be referring to. When he finally recalls that line from their conversation on the day his friends briefly met you, his face pales. San adds that you seem to be dressed oh-so-pretty today and Yunho’s brows crease, not only in irritation at him talking so liberally about you but in confusion. Yunho’s prolonged silence at what should be insignificant information is duly noted in San’s mind. 
Truth be told, San did not call Yunho just for shits and giggles. A few days ago, during a shared lunch break, Seonghwa had come to him secretly about Yunho’s recent behaviors:
“You can’t be serious Seonghwa,” San laughs wholeheartedly at his friend’s implications. “Yunho is a bit desperate these days, but he’s not that desperate.” 
“You can’t say I’m being delusional.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just saying that it probably isn’t what it seems like.”
Seonghwa rolls his eyes so far back that it almost hurts, “Enlighten me on why he’s being so secretive when I ask then.”
“You asked him about her directly?”
“Not exactly… but I asked him about dating someone,” Seonghwa leans back in his chair and sighs, “He told me nothing. Barely even got a peep about where he met the woman. A Tinder match has got him so quiet? It just doesn’t make sense.”
“And you think it’s his student because of what exactly?”
“I didn’t say anything at the time but I saw a glimpse of his phone a month or so ago,” Seonghwa snaps his fingers while he tries to remember the details, “That night we went to that fancy lounge uptown, remember?”
“And?”
“When he was using the bathroom, he left his phone face up on the couch. I didn’t mean to pay too much attention to it, but it lit up with a text and I recognized the name.”
San pushes the food around in his Tupperware with pursed lips while he tries to rationalize this revelation. Seonghwa does have a point… Why in the world would you have been texting him at 10 PM? San’s a pretty laid-back teacher himself, but none of his students have his personal number. All teachers do things differently though, he knows this. Still…
San lowers his voice to ask, “What did the message say?”
“I didn’t see that part,” his friend continues, the disappointment in his voice making San snicker, “He came back too quickly. I mentioned it in passing though, and he said they text occasionally about her schoolwork.”
Seonghwa uses his fingers to put air quotations around that last word; as if he’d ever believe a student is texting their teacher close to midnight about “schoolwork”. He’s slightly offended that Yunho thinks he’s that much of a fool.
“That’s not that implausible—”
“I’m calling bullshit. She’s at the very least got a crush on him and he’s playing into it,” Seonghwa states plainly. 
San resumes eating his lukewarm leftovers, humming, “I really don’t think he would risk getting fired over hooking up with his student. We barely even see him flirt with people outside of work… Anything beyond that just isn’t him. You know this.”
The conversation didn’t last much longer than that, and San had effectively convinced Seonghwa to simply mind his business at the time. He ponders for a second if he should have a serious talk with Yunho about the repercussions that could come to him if Seonghwa’s speculations were true, as he obviously doesn’t want to see one of his best friends lose their job. San may joke around a lot about these kinds of things, and he’s overly flirtatious with a numerous amount of people that may or may not include younger women, but he knows he’d never cross the line and put his job in jeopardy like that. 
It’s always been complicated. Yunho is an exceptionally loyal person and a hopeless romantic, but very few people get to see that side of him. San has seen plenty of women attempt to pursue him with both good and bad intentions, and Yunho has difficulty deciphering sometimes. That being said, when his friend is head over heels for someone, there is nothing he won’t do. There have been plenty of times when Yunho has done some stupid things because of stupid impulses when it comes to women he falls hard for. Don’t get him started about when he had to talk him out of getting a tattoo just because a girl he fell for told him she preferred “bad boys” when turning him down. He feels with all of his heart, and that’s honestly something San admires about his friend. 
He supposes while he has him on the phone, he should push the boundaries to see how he replies. 
“She’s been outside of my class for nearly half an hour,” San continues in a nonchalant voice, stoking the fire, “I was wondering if I should invite her to join in on the lecture, maybe chat—”
Unfortunately for San, Yunho’s already having a bad enough day, and he doesn’t need his friend joking about trying to pick up his woman. 
“Do not bother her,” Yunho interrupts him in a voice with a steely edge that makes the instruction come out slightly more bitter than he intends it to. He immediately regrets letting that kind of emotion slip through and becomes bashful, quickly sputtering a playful jab at his friend instead, “Getting a girl’s attention without buying her a drink first? That would be an amazing feat from you anyway.”
“Getting a girl’s attention at all recently would be an amazing feat for you too,” San quips back with a laugh, but he makes a mental note of this peculiar reaction. It surely doesn’t help extinguish Seonghwa’s conspiracies planted in his head. “Anyway, my class ends in half an hour, so I’m sure she’s just waiting for a friend to come out.”
At that suggestion, a thought crosses Yunho’s mind that makes his stomach churn. 
“San, tell me something. Do you have a student named Wooyoung Jung in your class?”
“I do indeed, how did you know?”
I’ve got to be losing my mind… 
That’s the only explanation Yunho can come up with as to why he’s speed-walking from his building in the middle of campus to the one that hosts San’s class a handful of minutes away. It’s brisk out, evident by the sharp chill of early December running down his back with every quick stride, but it’s a perfect excuse for why his cheeks are so red. He’s not flustered, he’s just cold… of course.
The moment he spots you rocking back and forth on your feet in front of San’s lecture hall, patiently thumbing away at your phone, his chest aches. You’re dolled up today just like San alluded to, wearing a pretty dress that he’s never even seen you in before. Coupled with some makeup and your hair done charmingly, he gets flashbacks to when you both went on your very first dinner together. This doesn’t fare well with Yunho’s mood.
The tap he does on your shoulder startles you enough to elicit a squeal, and that shock doesn’t change even when you realize it’s Yunho beckoning for your attention. 
“I– What are you doing here?”
When Yunho’s brows furrow in offense at your question, you wince. You don’t mean to sound like the last thing you want to do is see him right now, but this is not the best time for him to be showing himself. The last thing you need is for him and Wooyoung to cross paths outside of the classroom with you directly in the middle. Nevertheless, you don’t even get an answer to that query. The moment your arm is snatched and your feet drag while your captor hauls you away from your waiting spot, you internally scold yourself about how you’re probably the easiest kidnapping victim ever. To be fair, he’s a lot stronger than he looks.
“Wait, I have a date with Wooyoung–” 
“I do not care,” he snaps back.
He doesn’t bother responding to any more of your attempts of chiding him, eyes too busy following the signs that guide him to where the nearest restroom is. When he stumbles upon an unoccupied handicapped restroom, he sighs in relief and pulls you in before closing and locking the door. 
“What is wrong with you?” You sputter in a dumbfounded, hushed voice. 
Yunho’s face is splotchy, and he’s visibly agitated while his eyes dodge between your outfit and your face, “Why do you look like that?”
What a silly question, truly. 
In his mind, the problem lies within who you’re looking so beautiful for, and not the fact that you look beautiful at all. Yunho rarely gets to see you as it is, but this prick’s got you dressing up for him? Surely this isn’t necessary, because you’re beautiful enough to make anyone jealous as you already are. In his eyes, anyway.
“I just told you I have a date and I needed to look nicer,” you argue. Before he can muster up another pointless question, you fold your arms across your chest, “Right now is really not the time to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous, I’m annoyed.”
“Then why are we here, Yunho?” His eyes finally shy away from yours when you motion to your surroundings. He hates it when you use his first name like this because he knows that often accompanies the tone of displeasure. The last thing he wants to do is upset you. You sigh, “Can’t you hold out just a little longer?”
“Dressing up so pretty for him doesn’t help me feel any better.”
“Making a scene about it doesn’t necessarily help anything either, does it?”
You’d snicker at the shameful silence that follows that statement if the situation wasn’t so genuinely distressing to him. He’s genuinely upset, you get it. You’d never admit it out loud, but a piece of you likes seeing him like this: wound-up, needy, and protective. The roles were reversed not too long ago about Wooyoung particularly, so seeing him show that same yearning and agitation when the tables are turned, even if it’s in terrible circumstances, makes you feel validated. Still, you do what you can to ease his mind for now.
“You’re too handsome to be this envious, love,” you murmur sweet nothings. He remains silent, letting those words swirl around in his head while you reach out to fiddle with the kink in his tie until it’s fixed. His lip juts out when you chuckle at the stain sullying his shirt underneath. Your eyes gaze up at his fondly before you add, “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m yours and yours only before you start believing it?” 
Yunho soaks in every syllable of that soothing voice of yours while his eyes settle on your glossy lips when they talk. Anything not to look at those eyes that could surely make him get on his knees and apologize profusely for causing a scene. He’s so predictable sometimes, you muse. You’re sure a kiss or two to help settle his jealousy before you have to leave won’t hurt anyway.
Just as you predicted, he can’t help himself, and the feeling of his impatient hands grabbing at your waist and his lips slotting over yours ignites this fire inside the pit of your stomach. Your butt hits against the counter of the bathroom sink and your hands try to find purchase on his blazer.
“Reminders never hurt, right?” he breaks briefly to mumble before slipping his tongue into your mouth. You indulge him, falling victim to that sinful mouth of his as you always do.
And, sure, maybe kissing you should be enough to quell such intense feelings inside of him, but it’s just not. The thought that Wooyoung also has the ability to kiss you whenever he wants to enhance whatever convoluted plan he has going on makes it almost insignificant. Instead, his hands haphazardly drift under the hem of your dress, because he’s the only one allowed to touch you like this. He hopes so, anyway. 
His warm fingers drag up the soft skin of your inner thighs with no hesitation, and your hands grapple onto his blazer tightly when he reaches the apex to stop briefly at your clothed cunt. Yunho swallows the surprised yelp you let out into his mouth when he begins to rub up and down, pressing on your clit through the cotton and feeling how damp you already are just from kissing him. God, it never gets old, the way he turns you on so easily. You shudder when he tugs your panties to the side and drags his lips in wet kisses from your lips to your ear.
“I’m gonna be late, Yu…” you complain, voice airy and whiny when his thumb rubs at your clit.
“I’m really sorry,” he murmurs while kissing the shell of your ear, “I’m just really pissed off today. You understand, right, angel?”
He punctuates that statement by finally slipping two fingers into your sopping cunt.
Yunho’s a mess. 
He stares at himself in the mirror behind you while his fingers busy themselves with pushing in and out of your cunt. How did he get to such a point, experiencing so many intense emotions over someone he never should’ve fallen in love with in good conscience? How did he end up in this bathroom with his fingers evoking such sloppy noises from between your legs? He stares at how flushed he is in the cheeks with your glittery lipgloss smeared all over his lips and beyond. This is beyond silly…
Yunho swears he’s not actually such a jealous person, he swears, but the current circumstances are doing a number on his mental health. He deliberately curls his fingers up against that plushy spot he loves to find within you and watches tremors travel through your back. Aside from some tiny gasps and whimpers that are barely audible unless you’re close enough to hear them, you’ve learned your lesson on being quiet in these situations, and you keep your lips pressed together tightly. The way your knees are buckling and your hands are clutching onto him for dear life—yes, this is just what he needs. He’s never felt such an intense need to see someone cum in his life.
“Do you want more?” Yunho suddenly breathes against your ear, pressing a loving kiss on your warm skin before pulling back to look you in the eyes, “I’ll do whatever you want me to, even if you just want me to stop.”
As God is his witness, he means every word. He’ll get down on his knees and suck an orgasm from you if you want him to. He’ll hold you against the wall and fuck any word other than his name out of your head if you want him to. To be honest, deep down he just wants to see if you’d blow off your date with this nuisance—even for just a few minutes—to let him satisfy you. Those shiny eyes of yours innocently blinking at his inquiry could make him melt on the spot. You don’t know how much time has passed since you got dragged in here, or how much time there is left of Wooyoung’s class, but your hands move faster than your brain when considering these things as a problem. 
His fingers slip out of your core and into his mouth the moment your hands drop to fumble with his belt hurriedly. There are no words spoken, and the only sounds filling the quiet air of the bathroom are Yunho’s belt buckle coming undone and clattering against the floor tiles once his pants are shoved down. He pushes down his underwear and quickly fists his cock while you turn to bend over the sink. It doesn’t take much to get him hard because seeing you so wet and ready for him to stretch you out with no care for anything else turns him on to the highest degree. 
After tugging your panties down what he deems is enough, he doesn’t even bother teasing and prods at your hole so eagerly that it’s almost embarrassing. The soft gasp you both share when Yunho’s tip fully slips into your cunt by accident makes your stomach manifest butterflies. 
Your hands grip the edges of the counter while he continues pushing forward, mouth agape and brows drawn together while watching the way the tight skin stretches around him and sucks him in greedily. When you finally feel his thighs meet yours, you release a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding heavy in your lungs. 
“You’re so wet, slipped in so easily,” he huffs, giving you an experimental thrust to see all your arousal coat his cock again before he bunches your dress around your waist in his hands. “Gonna be good for me and stay quiet, right?”
“I should ask you the same,” you whisper, giving him a coy gaze through the mirror. 
The smirk tugging at his lips in place of laughing is followed by a knowing nod, and you close your eyes when he finally begins moving his hips. Yunho has no intention of purposefully rushing things to get you back to your obligations any quicker than him bringing you here. Even so, he isn’t going slow or taking his time like he treated you the last time you had sex. No, this is an exceptionally needy fuck today, with hasty, desperate thrusts that make his eyes flutter closed and chest feel heavy with noises of arousal just begging to creep out. He just can’t help himself; Yunho swears your cunt was perfectly crafted just for him. 
When he feels your knees buckle after one particular angled thrust, he groans lowly, “Right there, angel?” 
With a nod of your head, Yunho's hands move from your dress to your hips, fingertips digging deep into the plush skin while he reciprocates that previous thrust over and over and over until you’re gripping the sink spout to maintain some of your sanity. 
“I need more Yu, please,” you beg him in a whisper, cock-drunk eyes meeting his own in the mirror, “More, more—please—harder.”
You want nothing more than for him to just grab a fist full of your hair and make a mess of your sopping cunt—to ruin your makeup and send you back out to Wooyoung looking like a mess. You crave that pure and raw act of Yunho showing him who you truly belong to. Knowing your lover, he wouldn’t decline the opportunity to assert his dominance in this situation, but you have enough self-control to keep those desires to yourself. He’s giving you enough to handle anyway, firmly pressing your stomach to this counter with strong hands and settling on a brutal pace to satisfy your request. The sounds of skin slapping skin echo amongst desperate pants and gasps from you both every time he bottoms out just as fast as he pulls back.
The steamy air of the bathroom is interrupted when your phone begins ringing on the counter. You know it’s probably Wooyoung finally out of class and wondering where you are. You can’t blame him, as you had explicitly told him you’d be waiting for him outside the classroom. 
Even so, you can’t seem to care enough to remove your focus from Yunho, your unwavering eyes still locked on his own through the mirror as he continues snapping his hips into you quickly. Yunho would be lying if he said this attention didn’t go straight to his head. He knows you shouldn’t ever have to prove it, but the reassurance he feels from seeing your devotion to him in real time makes his chest tight with adoration. The way nobody else matters to you right now, and how he’s the center of your attention, chips away at every inch of jealousy he was feeling earlier. 
Yunho’s hands abruptly pull you off the sink by your arms and up against him. This new position with your back arched and you on your toes has you seeing constellations, and you know you probably aren’t going to last much longer with the way he’s also heaving just behind your ear. When one hand of his moves down to rub sticky circles on your clit, you presume he’s close as well. Yunho feels like he’s going crazy, mind spinning with thoughts of if you keep squeezing him like this, he might just accidentally cum—
“Inside,” you whimper, “Please.”
He finds himself groaning against your skin, teasing you by breathing, “Going on a date with another man’s cum in you’s kinda rude, no?”
“Don’t care, please, please.”
As usual, how can he say no when you beg so cutely? He did say he’d do whatever you want, after all. Your eyes flutter closed and you focus on the final sounds of Yunho’s soft grunts and your shaky exhales mingling in the air while he ruts up into you quickly. It always seems like he knows your body better than you know yourself these days because his hand covers your mouth before he gives the last few sharp thrusts that precede him finally spilling into you, and he successfully stifles the desperate moan you would’ve let fly out once you fall apart in his arms. 
“Quiet– Oh fuck, that’s it,” Yunho hisses, letting out a soft moan at the way you struggle to stand while your legs tremble and your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. He’s dangerously too addicted to this feeling already; you should’ve never introduced something so heavenly to him. He can’t stop his hips from beginning to buck again in messy strokes, intent on fucking you through your orgasm even if he’s sensitive himself. Watching the way you bite down on your lip to keep quiet as told, he whispers well-deserved praises in between kissing your skin, “Taking it so well, sweet girl. You really were made for me. Shhh, I’ve got you.”
Yunho only stops himself when your body becomes pliant in his arms, fully surrendering to fatigue and overstimulation. He waits patiently until you can put your weight back onto your feet before finally releasing his grip. When he finally pulls himself out, he’s not quick enough to step away, and his seed spills from you onto his pants still pooled around his ankles. The handful of curses spilling from his mouth at his fuck-up has you shushing him in between breathless laughs. 
“I’m an idiot,” he groans.
“Yes, and that’s exactly what you get for dragging me in here.”
Yunho spends a handful of minutes using wet napkins to make his pants look a little more presentable while you do the same with the mess you’ve both made soiling the insides of your thighs. He doesn’t even try to hide the satisfied smirk tugging at his lips while inconspicuously watching you try your best to get his cum to stop seeping out of your core. There’s just not enough to properly clean up, and he finds this just as gratifying as getting you here in the first place. To be fair, you were the one who told him that you didn’t care. On that note, he goes to grab your discarded phone and ushers it your way eagerly. 
“You should call your date and let him know you’ll be wherever very soon,” he insists, “I’m sure he’s waiting patiently.”
“Rushing me out after throwing such a fit is crazy,” you mutter while pulling your panties back up. You’re sure he’s just obsessed with the thought of his cum making a cameo on your date.
“A man can’t change his mind?”
As you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, quickly dabbing at your neck with napkins to clean any smeared lip gloss, Yunho leans against the bathroom wall and tries to decide how long he should wait in the bathroom before leaving after you. Between watching the way you apply a fresh coat to your lips and entering post-nut clarity, he’s a bit too scatterbrained to think about this critically, but he’s brought back to the moment when you finally spin around with a sigh.
“Do I look okay?”
There’s a bit of anxiety hidden in that question, evoked by the fear of looking disheveled or being perfumed with the smell of sex, but those thoughts are quickly extinguished when he gives you those eyes that look as though he’s falling in love with you all over again. Maybe it’s that special afterglow that sex grants, but to him, in this moment you look even better than when you enter this bathroom with him. You’re exceptionally beautiful at all times, and he doesn’t even have to answer that question for you to know his thoughts. After planting a quick peck of farewell on his cheek, Yunho stays hidden away against the wall out of view of the door so you can finally leave and call Wooyoung. He’ll hold off on teasing you about the little limp in your walk until you see each other again in private.
The following day, you find yourself seated alone at the familiar table tucked away in the back of the library, the very spot where you and Yeosang often retreated for private discussions. Wooyoung’s ex was supposed to be seated in front of you 10 minutes ago. I’m giving her 5 more minutes before I leave. She was the one who finally asked you to meet with her after a bit of cordial back and forth, so being late to her own plans didn’t necessarily make you as sympathetic to her situation as before. You suppose you should give her a little more grace, considering this is your only opportunity to try and put an end to the madness of Wooyoung’s chasing. Still, you’re a busy woman who needs to prepare for your first exam tomorrow.
“____?” 
A soft voice emerges from behind you that has you craning your head to seek out its owner.
“Hello,” you greet her, and your eyes follow her as she ambles around the table to set down her bag to settle in across from you. “Didn’t know if you were still going to show up.”
“I apologize for being late,” she sighs, embarrassment blossoming on her cheeks. With her first question, she wastes no time delving into the purpose of your meeting, “So, how long have you and Woo been dating?”
Due to her Instagram page being locked down, you hadn’t seen very many pictures of her before this meeting. You were only able to get glimpses of her in a scarce amount of posts on her sorority’s page that included all sisters. In person, she’s exceptionally beautiful, and you expected nothing less of someone being so heavily pursued. Your blatant staring and lack of reply to her question have her glancing at you quizzically.
It’s a bit surreal at first, but it finally sinks in that sitting in front of you is the very person of Wooyoung’s desires. An involuntary giggle escapes you at how silly this situation is, as you were never really prepared to be confronted by the very girl Wooyoung kept you from knowing this whole time. She was merely a faceless hindrance to your life, to the point of even doubting her existence at one point. Your reaction doesn’t fare well with her, and she’s noticeably bothered at being laughed at. 
“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you offer a genuine apology before leaning onto the table on your elbows and admitting truthfully, “Not too long at all, just about a month.” 
Still, way too long, you’d like to add. Even though she visibly relaxes at this revelation, you can see a conflicting look flicker behind her eyes.
“I still don’t really understand why you contacted me,” she sighs, but the look in her eyes just doesn’t correspond. 
You’re sure she knows exactly why you reached out and exactly what you want to say; surely she already knows she is all Wooyoung wants. During this conversation, you had planned to tell a series of half-truths. She didn’t need to know how you got wrapped up in this mess, but you figured it’d be helpful to admit that Wooyoung only thinks of her when he’s with you. Maybe you’d give her some empathetic spiel about how you “think” he hasn’t moved on from his feelings for her, and make it a bit emotional on your end. Despite those words dancing on the tip of your tongue, ready to give your best performance, you realize that she looks as if she wants to do your job for you. So, you play into it and let her take the wheel.
“You look like you want to ask me something,” you observe, “I’m all ears.”
Sitting up a bit more erect in her chair, she meets your eyes head-on.
“I’d like to ask you if…” But, her voice falters before she can get to the tail of her request. 
You wonder if it’s a pride thing that’s keeping her from being honest with herself. She wants him back, you’re sure of it, but she’s the one who broke things off initially. Maybe she’s embarrassed, you muse. You suppose you could gently guide the conversation, posing the question she hesitates to voice herself.
“Do you want me to break up with him?” You ask forthrightly.
“I do,” she finally confesses, “I was hesitant about rekindling our relationship, but you reaching out to me made me feel more confident that I should ask. I’m so sorry.”
Feigning indecision is easy, and pretending to fight your feelings about the situation is the cherry on top. It wouldn’t be believable if you gave up too easily, so the uncomfortable silence is more than necessary. The false front is believable enough because she cuts into the tense silence before you can even respond.
“I made a mistake and I would just like a second chance with him. I know I’m asking for a lot from you, and I want him to be happy, but I can’t pretend that I don’t still love him anymore,” she rambles on, trying her best to be authentic, “We were together for quite some time and—”
“I’m aware,” you finally interject. When she downcasts her eyes, you perch your head in your palm and sigh, “Wooyoung is still in love with you as well. I don’t want to be with someone who’s still caught up on someone else anymore. You understand?”
The way her eyes light up at this revelation makes yours soften. Even though Wooyoung’s actions may be maddening to you, you can tell he genuinely brings her joy. They both truly love each other.
“I don’t know how to go about this,” she admits after a moment of thought.
"Just tell him you want him back. He'll probably end things with me right away," you say bluntly. You feel it's best to give her a gentle nudge to act sooner rather than later, though. So, you add, "I think he’s been planning a trip for us after finals, but I'm sure he'd rather go with you. Please, do it soon."
Underscoring the word please to her might come across as begging, but at this point, you are beyond caring. Going your separate ways after closing this conversation feels like a hefty weight lifted off of your shoulders. In the end, you’ve done what needed to be done in terms of setting the stage; now it was time for her return to the spotlight as the lead. 
The next morning, you awaken to a text from Wooyoung finally breaking your arrangement off. He doesn’t go into any specifics of what happened, but at any rate, you don’t need or care to know. As far as you’re concerned, he’s fully evaporated from your life the moment you delete his text thread. You find that your coffee and breakfast taste better than normal with one less weight of stress hanging over your head. Exchanging many [Good luck!] texts with Yunho has him subsequently requesting to meet with you after today’s exam. That is how you ended up dawdling around your favorite aisle in the campus bookstore just before lunch. You had decided to turn in your textbook rentals early and put all of your faith in your notes for these next few days. The only other thing really lingering over your head was to finally turn in your final paper for Yunho’s class before midnight.
You start to get a bit impatient when Yunho fails to show up after your proposed meeting time, and you wonder if maybe he’s in the wrong spot. With calculated steps, you begin to roam the nearby shelves, reluctant to call out his name too many times in such a quiet place. There are only but so many aisles he could be in within this store anyway. After a couple of minutes peeking into different empty aisles, you finally decide he’s simply just late. You venture back to your original aisle and decide to browse in the meantime; this is the last time you’d ever be stepping foot in this place, so it couldn’t hurt to chew over a last-minute purchase. No matter how frequently this aisle has seen your presence in the last few years, you never fail to find something new that piques your interest. Unfortunately, today’s mark is a small book with the prettiest spine, and it sits just out of your reach on the top shelf. Being unobtainable only makes your curiosity even more inevitable.
Stretching every muscle in your body as far as it’ll give to try and at least graze the spine fails; there’s just no use, and it seems appealing to simply give up. The moment you finally fall back on the heels of your feet, you can feel the sturdiness of a chest slyly pressing against your back while reaching for that very same book just out of your reach. 
“You should really be more aware of your surroundings,” Yunho’s smooth voice hums next to your ear after feeling you freeze up underneath his presence. He plucks the book from the shelf with ease and sighs. You can feel his breath fan out on your neck and even smell the mint on his breath when he adds a playful jab, “Short stuff.”
“And you should really be more punctual,” you quip back, trying your best to ignore his proximity. 
He’s dressed casually today, charmingly sporting a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater since classes are officially over. If you didn’t already know who he was, a simple glance would have you thinking he was a student himself.
“Oh c’mon pretty, at least I’m here like I said I’d be, right?” He reasons excitedly while offering you a toothy grin that’s way too cute for your liking. The gentle tap of the book on the crown of your head has you scrunching up your nose, and he sets it aside. “You sure this section is private enough?”
“One hundred percent. I used to sit here in my free time when I wanted to read books without buying them,” you admit, adding, “No cameras over here either.”
Yunho eyes you curiously. You're practically glowing today, evident to him by the smile you can’t seem to keep off of your face even when you feign annoyance at his tardiness. He presses a hand to the shelf ledge behind you while the other finds solace in his pocket with his belongings.
“What’s got you so happy today?”
He’s torn between whether you’ll say something about already being rid of one exam, or maybe your spontaneous rendezvous with him here has you that giddy. Your eyes gaze back into his expectant ones and you find yourself finally able to relax for the first time in many weeks. 
“It’s all over, Yunho.”
Normally, a sentence like that would seem ominous, but the wide stretch of your lips has his poor heart shooting into his throat. It’s the way your eyes are lit while saying his name that really gets him. His pocketed hand finds its way to your cheek and his thumb skims the apple of your cheek. This kind of smile is something he hopes he can evoke from you on his own in the near future.
“I really missed seeing you this happy,” he confesses, “You look like you can breathe again, ____.”
Something about the way those soft chocolate eyes of his are openly admiring every inch of your face, committing this kind of happiness from you to memory, has you shrinking back in shyness and averting your gaze.
Eager to move the spotlight off yourself, you inquire, “So… why’d you wanna meet up here?”
Oh, that’s right…
Yunho’s decision to drive to campus today mainly stemmed from the fact that you would already be here. He didn’t want you to have to go out of your way just for him to see you, especially after an exam. A clandestine meeting in the bookstore, which you assured him beforehand would be devoid of many students, seemed like a feasible option. He moves to wrap his arms around you, pressing you against his chest in a firm embrace. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist.
“It’s going to be a very busy week for me with grading final papers all by myself,” Yunho begins tentatively. 
His eyes close and he focuses on slowing down his heart that’s beating a bit too prominently in his chest when your ear is pressed against it. There are a lot of emotions coursing through him today, many he can’t quite decipher, although he supposes maybe that’s just everything he’s been feeling throughout the entire semester coming to a head: love, jealousy, desperation, angst, and more. Even amongst the newfound happiness blossoming within his chest at such a detrimental obstacle being overcome, anxiety is still the most overwhelming feeling consuming him. It’s a bit nerve-wracking inching closer and closer to the final moments where he can confidently say you’re his with no repercussions. He’s been reflecting on how things will change between you both when finally crossing over this hump, and how things will flourish sans the threats to your futures. He doesn’t want to get too ahead of himself, though.
“Continue,” you encourage him, “I’m listening.”
“I just wanted to see you in person before I have to disappear, and tell you that I know you’re going to do amazing on your exams,” Yunho’s gentle voice imparts. He lowers it further to add, “I’m very proud of you and…”
When he trails off, you turn to plant your chin on his chest and peer up at him with coy eyes, “And?”
“And… I love you,” he whispers, eyes flickering up for the briefest second to confirm you’re still in solitude. 
Your gentle laughter at his neverending caution is like music to his ears. He’s still learning how to comfortably say those words without being fearful of not hearing them back. The feeling of his arms letting you go in favor of his hands holding either side of your face steals the opportunity to return his words of adoration. Instead, you put those unspoken words into the kiss he doesn’t hesitate to initiate. When you reach up and pull him by the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and encouraging him to let go, he feels his nerves finally melt away for this moment and this moment only. Yunho pulls away before he can get too lost in the feeling of not caring where you both are, and the way you’re led to chase his lips has heat prickling your cheeks.
“You know, the store’s nearly empty… Might even just be me and you,” you hum. Yunho’s eyes don’t leave yours, even as he feels your hand mischievously skirt down his chest to tap at the belt buckle under his sweater. When your fingers dare to dance further down to the crotch of his jeans, he finally takes hold of your wrist. “Oh come on, are you still nervous?”
He shakes his head confidently, “Just think it’d be more fun to reward you once your exams are over. Making you wait a lil might be fun, no?”
“You sure you can go a couple weeks without it?” You taunt him with a cock of your head. “All that stress while grading finals adds up, no?”
“Is this coming from the same woman who spent two weeks away from me in the arms of another man before I knew about it?” He immediately counters, eyebrows dancing with mischief. “I’ll be just fine. You, on the other hand, are a needy little thing it seems.”
“Don’t make me consider going back,” you warn him.
Yunho eyes find the ceiling as he inhales a deep, frustrated breath. Provoking him like this is unfair and dirty. If he were a man with no self-control, he’d have half a mind to have you in this aisle on your knees, putting that mouth to better use than spouting such nonsense. For now, he simply purses his lips and nods curtly. 
“That’s okay, be that way,” he concedes in a voice low enough for your ears only, “Because the next time I get my hands on you…” 
He trails off while palming your ass through your leggings and squeezing to his heart’s content. The yelp you let out at his fingers sinking in a little deeper than usual makes a pleased smile tug at his lips. He’d say a lot more, let those lewd thoughts entering his mind go freely for once, but the sounds of feet shuffling not too far away shut him up just as fast as he could think to say them. You both separate abruptly and face opposite shelves. How disappointing…
Yunho clears his throat before finally sighing, “On that note, I look forward to receiving your paper tonight.”
“I look forward to you reading it, Mr. Jeong,” you hum, and he can hear the smile lingering on your words. It’s been quite some time since he heard such formalities come from your mouth. “I hope it ends up being worth the wait. You did help me craft it, after all.”
Behind you, his warm chuckle is followed by him laying a comforting hand on your head. 
“See you at graduation, ____,” he whispers. 
When he departs, being left alone doesn’t feel so lonely for once.
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stayevildarling · 20 hours
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Natasha Romanoff x Reader- In the silence
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A/N: This is dangerously close and inspired by the Cordelia Goode version of this that I wrote years ago. I have been enjoying writing for Natasha even though I felt quite anxious about whether I was doing her any justice but the support has been lovely so thank you 🫶🏻
prompt: Natasha and you have always been close, working as avengers beside each other for years. And deep down you both know you love each other. What happens when a mission goes south and you admit your feelings to her?
tags/warnings: female reader, mention of weapons (mild), mention of violence (mild), mention of gunshot wound, mention of blood, angst, fluff at the end
translation: detka= baby
word count: 4.5k
taglist:
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Standing by the entrance of the gym inside the avengers compound, you are greeted by warm sunlight coating your cheeks, as well as some music playing loudly in the background. A smile creeps it's way onto your features, as you see Natasha leaning against one of the large glass windows, her breathing heavy as she dives into her protein shake. The gym had always been your safe space, the place you could run to, whether it being one of those days, one of those lonely nights, a mission not going too well or one of the guys annoying you. Most of the other guys would usually use the gym to train, let some anger out on one of the punching bags. To you, it had always been your source of safety and peace and sometimes you question whether it was silly, as after all it was only a gym. However, the only person beside you, treating the place with the same care and feeling the same sense of safety, is currently drinking her protein shake without a care in the world. Natasha.
You watch as she moves from the window back to the equipment, not having noticed your presence yet. Another smile makes it's way onto your features, as you remember seeing her in here for one of the first times, years ago. Her hair used to be shorter, the shade a slightly darker red. The first time you had seen her in here, Natasha for sure intimidated you. Of course knowing about the avengers and Black Widow from reading the stories and seeing her on television, however she undeniably scared you, as she seemed tough both on the inside and out. However, despite some initial holding back on her part, unsure about another woman on the team and also feeling a bit intimidated herself, the two of you quickly got to know each other better, spending many sessions in said gym together, getting to know more about your pasts on missions and sharing the same interests and humour.
She finally turns around, noticing a presence lingering by the door, for a moment she halts, not particularly in the mood for company, as the last few weeks had been filled with missions. However, as she glances up and notices your frame, a smile instantly greets you, the same smile she had reserved specifically for you, even though she wouldn't admit it and you had been too oblivious to notice. You watch as she smiles contently at you for a moment, almost as if she was relieved it’s you and not one of the others. She wasn’t in a talkative mood today, you could tell by her posture and her tense shoulders, that seem to relax when noticing you. Natasha could rely on you, always knowing the two of you can work beside each other without a lot of conversation, if it wasn’t needed. The Black Widow and you had always enjoyed the quiet moments, being in each other’s company, experiencing moments together and words exchanged without speaking. Neither of you needed talking to do that, a little smile an indication or rather a reassurance that either you or Natasha were okay. The smirks exchanged when in company of the others or across the dinner table, either one of you able to judge Steve's stupid jokes or thinking of inside jokes you and Natasha have, without letting the others share or in on your jokes.
Communication has many forms of expressing things, mostly by talking but you and Natasha had always found a different way to communicate. Mostly through mimics, glances and whispered confessions. Of course, that didn’t come naturally and it hasn’t always been this way. But throughout your years with the avengers, Wanda discovering you, finally agreeing to speak to Tony, you had grown close. After walking through the large doors at the compound for the first time, you finally understood Wanda's words and why she spoke so highly of this place. The instant feeling of home and belonging, after sharing a similar fate to Natasha, having been captured and mind controlled half of your life. You quickly became part of the avengers after training with Natasha and Clint, attending sessions at first but they could instantly tell you fit right in with them, your heart in the right place.
From the first training session, Natasha had known that you are destined for this. They allowed you time to arrive there, to get to know everyone, before fully training you to be able to control your abilities and what the organisation had put you through. Eventually, the redhead had asked you whether you wanted to join her on a mission, as she had talked to Tony and thought you were ready. Her offer came as a surprise but she had a feeling about you and it turned out to be right. The first mission was a big success, after all you had done this sorta stuff for your whole life, just playing for the wrong team. And from then on, you would regularly join Natasha and the avengers on missions, after becoming a liable asset to them, the Black Widow even offering you to train newer recruits together and it meant everything, considering you started out that same way.
Once again, you are snapped out of your thoughts, all the memories about joining this place and meeting Natasha slowly pushed into the back of your mind again, as her voice fills the room.
,,Are you just going to stand there?'' she jokes and just with those words, the redhead has your cheeks glowing red as if the sun coating it moments ago, left it burnt.
,,No.. sorry'' you chuckle, finally stepping into the gym, towards her.
,,Penny for your thoughts?'' she speaks again, still a little out of breath as she steps onto treadmill beside you. You simply act as if you didn't hear her, not too keen on sharing what you had gotten lost thinking about, before starting your warm up.
Natasha watches you intently, despite working out herself, having had a feeling lately that something was up with you, as you had been more lost in your thoughts. As she often finds you glancing into nothingness or staring right through her. And it was quite obvious that the redhead cared about you, despite her never admitting it. Natasha was mostly only really nice to you, due to the massive soft spot she has for you. And despite the others, especially Wanda mentioning it a few times, you simply brushed it off, assuming that neither of you could ever be more than friends.
Love had always been a stranger to you, it often felt like a missing piece in your life, seeing couples holding hands or intimate moments shared. However at some point you started to realize that love doesn’t necessary mean being in a relationship with someone or putting labels on something. To you, love had always been about feelings and expressing emotions towards someone, it didn’t need more than that. At some point you realized, that person, your soulmate is closer than you initially thought. For years, Natasha had been your mentor, despite teaching alongside you in the end and always treating you as an equal, however there was something else involved, something almost impossible to put into words.
Both you and Natasha developed a bond, a silent promise that no matter what happens, you would have each others back. Neither of you would let anyone speak bad about the other, often finding either you or Natasha argue with Steve or one of the younger recruits if they dare made a remark about the Black Widow or you. Neither of you would let the other one get hurt, both of you ready to take your last breath’s for one another at any moment given. It had happened once, an unexpected moment, a mission going sideways, the two of you caught in the crossfire before Natasha stepped in front of you, shielding you from the attack.
“How are you feeling?” she asks after a while and your gaze lingers on her, taking your eyes away from the treadmill screen for a moment.
You can’t help but take in her features again, your eyes not able to comprehend her beauty. She is wearing one of your favourite training outfits on her today, completely black, the colour complementing her features and curves perfectly. As you glance into her green eyes, they make you feel calm and at peace, just like they always would. Whether a mission scaring you, one of the guys annoying you, Tony pushing you and demanding too much. Her green eyes are always somewhere to be found, a silent understanding and promise that she had got you.
Of course you had questioned it, after all surely she couldn’t like you, or see you as anything more than being an avenger like her, teaching recruits alongside you and her always being able to rely on you. However throughout all of these years, getting to know Natasha, her dark and troubled past and the scars it had left on her soul, despite her smile and the desire to keep people safe, you realised something. After all, Natasha had given you what you always longed for, those warm smiles, those inside jokes, affection as she always placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder or held you after a tough mission. Her greeting you with a gentle smile or that specific smirk, being enough to make your heart beat faster. Nevertheless, there were nights, those nights where the moonlight would light up your bedroom at the compound, you gazing at the ceiling, wondering what it would feel like to feel her lips on yours, to wake up beside her and to feel her. You would always shake those thoughts away though, grateful to have her in your life, never feeling incomplete but you did wonder sometimes.
,,Out of breath, how about you?'' you joke, noticing her gaze on you, causing for her to shake her head in a playful way before snarkily remarking ,,Same''.
After the two of you finish, you finishing the pre workout and Natasha finishing for the day, she throws you a bottle of water as you sit beside each other, trying to catch your breaths again. Natasha avoids your gaze for a moment, parting her lips as if she wanted to speak. And you could tell, being able to read the redhead like a book at this point. ,,What's on your mind Romanoff?'' you ask, nudging her shoulder a little, to lighten up her serious features. ,,Nothing, I'm fine'' she brushes it off and you accept it, knowing if she was ready she would share what's on her mind.
,,Want some help?'' she asks after a while and you accept gratefully, as she lifts weights with you, impressed after noticing you can bench more and more now since first training you.
,,Natasha?'' you ask gently, after you finish your set with her. Her green eyes meet yours for a second and without words needed you can tell again something is on her mind, the pain and doubt very visible in her green orbs. It tears you apart, hating to see her in any kind of discomfort and knowing something is on her mind, clearly upsetting her. You wish you could fix her, make her smile again, throw silly jokes around, stop the pain, just like the many times she had done the same for you.
“What’s going on? please be honest” you plead, your voice breaking in the second half of your sentence. She averts your gaze again, biting the inside of her mouth as if she was trying to bite the words back, keeping herself from being honest with you.
“You can be honest with me, you know that right?” you try and reassure her, knowing the battle she is fighting in her head currently. She nods at your statement, knowing she can fully rely on you but something is still holding her back, maybe the fact she isn’t sure how to word what she is feeling, as she doesn’t completely understand it herself.
“It’s -” she finally parts her lips, the words trying to spill from her heart but the rational and stubborn Natasha still fighting to be quiet. “I’m here” you whisper, reassuring her yet again. Your hand wanders to her leg, gently swiping your thumb across it in a comforting manner, reassuring her that she can tell you anything, desperately wanting to make her feel better and stop the aching in her heart and your own, seeing her like this.
“Do you ever feel like there is something missing in your life Y/N?” she asks, suddenly the conversation turning more serious, her thoughts slightly trailing off and she allows herself to be honest and vulnerable around you, speaking her mind.
You swallow hard, the only thing to be heard for a moment the beating of your own heart as your mind instantly wanders to that feeling, as you know it too well, despite accepting long ago to be grateful for what you have instead of being upset over what you don’t have.
“Yes I know Tasha” you start “But I learned to understand to be grateful for the things that I have in my life” you explain and yet again your eyes lock, her brows furrowing for a second, before her lips part again.
“But don’t you ever miss anything?” she asks, unable to understand how you could be eternally grateful, without missing anything at all. After thinking about it for a moment you reply “I have everything I need, working here, the avengers, an amazing family here and yo-” you stop yourself, not sure whether naming her of things you need, being too much or too direct in this moment.
“What about love?” she whispers, completely snapping you out of any thoughts, waking you up like a slap from reality. “Lo- love?” you ask, stumbling over your words and locking eyes with the redhead. She nods, a statement of both reassuring you, you heard correctly but also begging you to explain.
“I have love in my life, Nat, it might be a different kind but I’m so grateful” you explain, feeling confident as she started the subject and conversation in the first place and part of you feeling like this being your only chance to ever have an open conversation about this with her.
“But - do you ever wish it wasn’t hidden or silent?” she asks her accent slightly showing, taking you by surprise yet again with her statement. Her eyes haven’t left yours for a second, your hearts beating in synch, as all the silence is finally about to be broken, your feelings open for each other to understand.
“There is still love in the silence Tasha” you reassure her. You watch as her demeanour changes for a moment, as if she just realised what words are being said, for a moment you fear she won’t allow the conversation to go further, maybe getting up and walking out or maybe changing the subject, but yet again the redhead takes you by surprise.
“I just-” you find her stumbling over her words, the usual confident woman faltering under her walls breaking down in front of you. Before you can finish the conversation however, Steve stumbles into the gym, getting both of your attention as he informs you Tony needed you both for an urgent mission. You watch as she grabs her things, before following after you and your eyes don't leave hers for a moment as you wish this conversation could have finished, as you had been so close to finally get there after all these years.
--
Hours later, the quinjet hums softly as it soars through the night sky, carrying the team of Avengers to the next mission. Lately, the missions had been a lot as Tony had been determined to find the base of a secret organisation specialising in the newest weapons and technology. As you glance around the quinjet, you look at their features, being able to tell they had been tired, worn out and in desperate need for a break.
Sitting across from Natasha, the dim light casts shadows that dance across her face. The team was focused, despite the tiredness on their features, also determination, each of them mentally preparing for what lays ahead. However, you couldn't help but steal glances at the redhead. You could tell she was also tired, despite that same expression on her mind from before. And you hate that Steve interrupted you when he did as you wonder where the conversation may have gone. She can't help but give you a reassuring smile as her eyes lock with yours for a brief moment before Tony interrupts the peace and quiet.
,,We are approaching the drop zone'' he announces, standing tall in his Iron Man suit. ,,Everyone ready?'' he confirms before the team nods in unison.
The atmosphere shifts to one of anticipation and readiness, the earlier tiredness quickly vanishing from their determined features. You are quick to check your gear one last time, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline. This mission was crucial and you all knew the importance of it, this being the last puzzle piece you needed to complete this whole operation and defeat and expose them once and for all. Which also meant, there was no room for error, no room for you to get distracted due to having Natasha by your side or the others after working hard for the last few weeks in a row.
As the moon illuminates the enemy compound, you and the team descend, everything going to plan at first. Tony cleared the way using his technology, allowing you access before you all split up, everyone having their respective individual tasks on this mission. Tony working on hacking into the compounds database and collecting the necessary data. Clint and Natasha working on taking out any guards to clear the way for the others, while Steve and you needed to find out more about the weapons and technology they store here and how they managed to access the materials and resources as Tony had discovered, they certainly didn't come from earth.
As you and the team entered the foreign compound, everything seemed to go according to plan as you communicated over your coms. Until it didn't- alarms blaring loudly, chaos quickly erupting as more enemy forces swarm the area. More than either of you could have seen coming, more than either of you could take on with the amount of people on this mission. Natasha and Clint fight vigorously, clearing the path for Tony and making sure he could access what he needed without interruptions. Steve and you in the meantime fighting the troops that try to keep their secrets hidden and rid you of your presence in their base.
However, the odds are overwhelming, as whenever you manage to fight most of them away, another group of them arrives, keeping you on your tired feet. Eventually, you find yourself separated from the team, pinned down by heavy fire. Your heart pounds as you fire back, but you knew you couldn't hold out much longer. Suddenly, Natasha appears at your side, as if she was able to feel your struggling. Her movements a blur of lethal precision as she dispatches the attackers, making one after one fly to the nearest wall and knocking them unconscious.
,,Tha- Thank y-ou Tasha'' you breathe out, struggling to stay on your feet and keep your breathing under control. Her eyebrows furrow as she watches your struggling state, you never usually one to get tired on these kind of missions. She worries then, whether you may have gotten injured or if one of them hit you too hard after seeing you from a little further away as she tried to make her way to you, seeing some of the heavy hits and blows you had to endure.
,,Woah, are you alright there?'' she asks, her voice filled with a hint of seriousness and concern. ,,All fine'' you reassure, as she places her hand on your shoulder, trying to keep you up on your feet.
For a moment, everything seems to stand still, the attackers finally gone, the mission seemingly complete as you hear Tony mention something about hacking into their data and getting all the important information. As you glance at the attackers on the floor through your blurry vision, you suddenly notice something out of the corner of your eyes, one of them moving his hand to the gun abandoned on the floor, before you can react aiming at Natasha who still stands there, taking in your features and holding you up.
,,Look out'' you shout, freeing yourself from her grasp before using your last strength to push her out the way and throwing yourself in front of the redhead. With a loud sound and a piercing pain, everything goes quiet, Natasha's screams muffling out as she quickly takes him out.
,,Y/N'' she instructs, kneeling over your form. ,,Keep your eyes open for me'' she pleads, as you look up at her through your blurry vision yet again. She calls for backup in an instant, giving them the exact location and keeping pressure on the wound from the bullet that had entered you, the blood pouring and staining your uniform.
,,You need to look at me detka'' she instructs and you try your hardest, battling the fight of unconsciousness taking over before your lips part slightly. ,,Tasha I-'' you try but she quickly shushes you ,,No don't try to speak, you're okay'' she speaks again, her voice now filled with panic as her hands stain in blood, quicker than she can stop the bleeding.
,,I need to- tell you'' you struggle, as you squeeze her hand tighter, ushering her to look at you. ,,Nat- I- I love- you'' you struggle through your words and you can't see her reaction, both the shock and sadness written across her features as your eyes finally close, your strength staying just how long you needed it, to finally tell her what had been on your mind all this time.
,,No Y/N, not like this'' she instructs as the others arrive, quickly taking your form into their arms and carrying you to the quinjet, making sure to speed through the night sky in order to get you back to the compound and to med bay as soon and quickly as possible. Natasha remains by your side the entire time, her features tense as she couldn't be more angry at you, giving your health away for something so stupid, despite her having done the same in the past and your admission finally confirming what she hadn't only been thinking for a while but also feeling for years. You loved her and there was no doubt about her loving you too, especially seeing you on the brink of this thing, telling you over and over again to keep hanging on.
--
The next time your eyes force open, you find yourself in the unfamiliar surroundings of med bay. So far you had actively avoided it, other than your necessary routine checkups. Everything is white and bright and so your eyes quickly close again, before the feeling returns to your body, at first being able to feel a stinging pain, before feeling something holding on tight to your left hand. As you force your eyes open again, trying to determine the source, you find Natasha sitting beside you, her eyes closed as she had been by your side for hours, sleep finally washing over her, her hand still protectively holding yours nevertheless.
You can't help but smile, not quite remembering what happened exactly before passing out. Remaining silent, you simply rest, trying to shuffle a little trying to get comfortable, not wanting to wake her. However, Natasha was awake in an instant, her eyes snapping open and relief washing over her as she sees you awake. ,,Hi there'' she smiles warmly as she finds your eyes on her. ,,Hi'' you mumble, your voice still hoarse from the medication and pain lingering on your body.
,,How are you feeling?'' she asks, her voice serious as she observes you a little further.
,,Bruised'' you smile, causing the redhead to chuckle and roll her eyes playfully.
,,No shit'' she remarks with a raised eyebrow ,,That's what happens when taking a bullet for me'' she speaks, her tone laced in the slightest disapproval.
,,I'll always take a bullet for you Tash'' and she smiles then, being able to tell the drugs are still in your system a little.
,,You're an idiot'' she smiles, letting go off your hand to offer you some water and more painkillers that Bruce had left there for you.
After taking them as instructed, you keep looking at her and it's that same look you had when confessing your love and Natasha can't help but feel the same feeling in her chest, having wanted to tell you since you fell asleep in her arms after the bullet had hit you. ,,I'm sure you won't remember this by tomorrow but just for the record I love you too'' she whispers, barely audible as your eyes keep closing, still feeling tired from the drugs and painkillers.
,,You- love me?'' you ask surprised and she can't help but chuckle before pressing a kiss to your forehead. ,,Yes detka, now sleep'' she instructs. ,,We'll talk about this another time''. And as your eyes force closed yet again, the smile remains lingering on your face, as her words sink in, knowing that now the two of you wouldn't have to keep loving each other in silence. And Natasha looks forward to have you awake again soon, being able to love each other fully.
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matilyntheweirdo · 3 days
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Out of curiosity- How much do you know abt ur fav character in The Outsiders?? My fav is Dallas, who was the sixth character to be introduced by pony in the book- hence my blog name lol
Dally’s full name was Dallas Tucker Winston (as we know)
was 17 (also as we know) and died just two months short of his birthday, which is November 9th, meaning the book begins in September on a Friday
got his disc memorized- you know the drill with him so I’ll keep it shortish: described as tow-headed with an elvish face, with high cheekbones and a sharp chin, small sharp animal like teeth and ears like a lynx, his hair was almost white it was so long, but he didn’t like haircuts or hairpins either so it went over his forehead in wisps and kicked out in the back in tufts along the nape of his neck and curled behind his ears. The shade difference between a greaser and a hood wasn’t present in Dally, he was a wild as a brumly boys, like Tim Shepard’s gang. He had pale icy blue eyes, cold with a hatred for the whole world- he didn’t have anything specific to hate. (So much for short- Read it 217 times since 7th grade)
gave pony the letter from soda and didn’t want to get beat tf up by Darry for giving pony the money and the gun
bought pony and Johnny food at Darry Queen :D
he showed up to the rumble with his arm burnt tf up and fought anyhow
Took Ponyboy to see Johnny because he knew he was dying in the hospital and wanted pony to seem him one last time too
he was born in 1948- since the book was finished in ‘65, I just subtracted 17 from there- so he would’ve been 76 this year :,(
on a lighter note, S.E. Hinton confirmed that he was most likely out of the gang to be scared of spiders- had me rolling 🤣
Lmao it got to the point where I gaslit myself into thinking he lived and Johnny lived based on a fic I read years ago and when I reread it this past month my whole reality with him shattered- please send help I can’t be the only one obsessed with a character to this degree🫠
Wow I think you’re more obsessed with this book than me 😭 HOW HAVE YOU READ IT 217 TIMES? I’m on my 3rd reread in the past 8 months or so.
But seriously wow! I’m glad I found someone who is as obsessed - if not more than me lol. Dallas is probably my 3rd favorite character (ik don’t come and find me lol) behind 2. Johnny and 1. Darry
Darry has always been my favorite character ever since I read the book for the first time. He just stuck out to me and I love his character so much. He also is played by Patrick Swayze and he is the finest man to ever walk the earth sooo. (Like seriously I’m obsessed with this man I’ve watched almost every movie he’s in please send help)
Even though Darry’s my favorite character I don’t know everything about him off hand lol. I’m just gonna make a list of everything I know off the top of my head about my favorite character (yes out of every book I’ve read he’s my favorite character, secondly being Katniss Everdeen if you would like to know lol)
• He’s 20 years old
• His full name is Darrel Shayne Curtis Jr (I say this at least twice a day idk don’t ask why)
• Don’t quote me on this but I think he was introduced last in the book
• He works as a roof repair man person
• His birthday is January 5th
• He’s the oldest brother (obviously)
• He is said to not be a greaser if it weren’t for his brothers and the rest of the gang
• Darry was a MESS when Johnny and Pony were at the church (DARREL STAYS UP ALL NIGHT LONG, TILL HE FINALLY FALLS ASLEEP BY THE TELEPHONEEE - Sodas Letter from the musical)
• Also he was the football captain in high school and was voted boy of the year
• Don’t ask me how I know this offhand (I need a hobby) but in the book Darry is one of the tallest if not the tallest greaser but Patrick Swayze isn’t crazy tall so in some of the photos you can see him standing on bricks to make him look taller lol
Okay that’s all I remember right now but I know more will come to me later lol. And also I sincerely believe also that the events in the book are fictional (well no shit) but like FICTIONAL in a FICTIONAL way. Like Ponyboy definitely just needed a good grade so made up a bs story lmao. I really have tricked myself into thinking both Johnny and Dally are alive and well and the gang is still partying in Tulsa.
ALSO thank you for this ask it was really fun to do!
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bitethedevil · 11 hours
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Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 8
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Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
Read this fic on AO3 (Link)
Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.
…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.
Chapter Summary: Tav snaps. Her determination to get out becomes stronger than ever and she decides to change her tactics when it comes to dealing with Raphael.
AN: This turned super horny, idk what to tell ya. Also, I found it really difficult to write Hope because she just acts and speaks in such a specific way that's really hard to capture.
TW: Mentions of Abuse
WARNING: NSFW
Tav sat up in the bed and looked at him. Raphael so blatantly admitting to what he had done had made something snap in her head. It was as she was finally resurfacing back to reality and back to the person she had been before Raphael had gotten his claws in her. For the first time since she got to the House of Hope, she saw him for what he was.
“I thought you said that your plan was to kill my friends and then me,” Tav said with a calmness that surprised even herself.
“And I am a man of my word,” Raphael said, still lying in bed. He was studying her face for a reaction. “I never specified when. I will one day take your soul, which is my property by right, and should your friends decide to pay us a visit I will kill them. Though I have removed any motivation they might have to come knocking on my door, for which you are very welcome, by the way.”
He ran his fingers over the metal cuffs around her wrists.
“So, you are not even trying to lure my friends here. You intend to keep me here…indefinitely...” Tav said.
“Yes,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I want to,” he answered. “I made it clear from the beginning that you would never leave, did I not? Death would have been all to easy for such a fearless little thing like you. It has been much more fascinating to see you trying deal with all those wonderful conflicting feelings of yours.”
She could see it in his eyes and his widening smile that he was expecting a reaction from her by saying this. He wanted her to get angry, to cry, to be scared. Something in his eyes reminded her of her father. The way he would look at her after he had beat her or said something cruel to her to get a reaction out of her during her childhood. That gleeful anticipation as they waited for her to either explode or break.
She looked at him and was quiet for a moment. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears out of anger, but her expression remained unreadable.
Then a smile spread across her face, and she leaned forward to brush a hand over his hair. She kissed him sweetly on the lips and he froze.
She wished that she could bottle up the look of genuine confusion she saw on his face.
She did not say anything. She just laid back down on the bed beside him. She pulled his arm around herself and got comfortable.
Raphael had made a misstep in his eagerness to piss her off: he had admitted that it was not his plan to kill her anytime soon.
Tav was not going to let herself be a passive player in his little game anymore. She would play and she would win. Not by giving him the resistance that he seemed to be thriving on, but by giving him exactly what he wanted.
He had told her the first day they met that he liked when people put up a fight. She would not. She would shower him with affection, heed his every whim, be his adoring little mouse, and when she finally found that damn hammer, she would watch him burn, just as she had watched her father do all those years ago.
As always, he was gone when she woke up. She got dressed. Instead of searching for the least provocative piece of clothing she could find as she usually would have, she grabbed a rather revealing dress from the wardrobe.
It was a tight-fitting dress with a plunging neckline in a burnt orange color that complimented her red hair. There was a matching gold choker with yellow stones that she also put on.
It looked completely foreign on her who had mostly dressed in thick robes for the majority of her life. It felt more like a costume, she thought as she looked herself in the mirror. Then again, she was definitely playing a part with what she had planned, so perhaps it was fitting.
She left the boudoir. She reached the entrance to the main area where she usually ate her breakfast when she stopped in her tracks and her eyes widened.
With her back turned to Tav, she was looking out over the balcony: it was Hope.
Hope! How could she had forgotten Hope? Tav felt terrible but she had not as much as given a thought to the odd Dwarven woman she had met back when she had broken into Raphael’s home. Tav had even promised to free her, she remembered with a knot in her stomach.
It had been too risky to free her. She even remembered selfishly thinking to herself that it was not her problem before they left. What Raphael did in his privacy was not her business. Neither her nor her companions ever spoke about her after they had left.
How fitting that Tav herself should end up in the very same position as her. She really did deserve it in a way, she thought to herself. She completely understood why Hope had stayed away from her during her time there. She had every right to hate her.
“Hope…?” Tav called out softly.
The projection of Hope turned around and a wide cheery smile spread across her face.
“There you areee! And without my sister or his new one at your heels!” she said in a cheerful tone. “He has barely had time to torture me since you got here, you know? Maybe if he leaves me long enough, I’ll be in one piece for the first time in years!”
The sad and pitying look in Tav’s eyes strongly contrasted Hope’s cheerful demeanor.
“What is it? Are you hurt?” Hope asked, looking her up and down. “Hurt, but you still look like you are in one piece…Hm…Oh! Oh! Did he drown you? Suffocate you? Was it the Omuan dreamcatcher? Oh, he loves that one.”
“I’m fine, Hope…” Tav said quietly as she tried to hold back the ocean of emotions that was building up inside herself by seeing Hope again.
She could not even begin to imagine the things Hope had endured. Her heart had sunk to the floor. Who knows how long Hope had resisted Raphael’s persistence? And Tav had brushed her off back then instead of saving her while she still had a chance…
“Oooh, no one’s fine here for long,” Hope said with the same manic intensity. “He prods and pokes and slices and cuts and then he puts you back together to do it all over again!”
Tav took a deep breath. The guilt she was feeling was crushing her.
“I’m so sorry, Hope,” Tav managed to say. “For not saving you back then…”
Hope went quiet for a moment.
“And I’m sorry that you are here…” Hope said in a sad tone, though it quickly turned hopeful again. “But…your friends will come with the hammer and save you! Maybe they will smash my chains as well. Oh, please don’t leave me here after you kill him…”
Tav sighed. She almost did not have the heart to tell her.
“My friends can’t get to it right now…Raphael took it back,” Tav said in a defeated voice. “But I’m determined to find out where he is hiding it. When I do, I will free both of us.”
Hope's smile returned even bigger than before.
“This is great news!” Hope said. “It means it’s here. It will be, it has to be, it is! It’s hidden, but it’s here.”
Tav’s brow furrowed.
“How are you so sure?” she asked.
“It’s what he does…” Hope said, still smiling but with a sad tone in her voice again. “He dangles things right in front of your nose. Freedom, riches, everything you could ever want! Always so close that you can smell it and always just out of reach.”
The projection of Hope froze after they both heard a noise. A servant was walking down the corridor towards them.
“Oh! I have to go,” Hope whispered.
“No, wait—” Tav said, but Hope had already disappeared.
Tav was looking at the spot where she had just stood. If Hope was right, there was a chance that she could find the Orphic Hammer and escape on her own without the help of her friends, which would be ideal.
Her meeting with Hope reaffirmed her plan. Resisting him was not the way to go. Hope was the living example of that. Perhaps, there was a chance that he would even grow bored with her if she simply gave him what he wanted.
She would keep the peace. She would keep him happy and distracted for as long as it would take her to figure out how to escape and then she would strike.
She had been scouring the parts of the house that she could access without servants or debtors watching her for where Raphael might be hiding the hammer. There were a couple of options for where it could be that she knew of: the archive or the vault.
It was obviously not on display in the archive, but she knew that there were more to the archive than what met the eye. She had heard that more artifacts were hidden in the bowels of the house underneath the archive. How she would access it or even find the entrance, she was not sure, but perhaps Hope knew if she could find her again.
Then there was the vault. Her and Gale had tried to break into it back when they had broken into his house, but without any luck. The lock was heavily protected with magic, but if she could get to it without any debtors or servants watching, she might be able to crack it with enough time on her hands.
She had given up for the day, but at least she now had some leads as to where to look. She knew that it would not be long until Raphael arrived home again, so she sat down in the archive to read and prepare herself for her role as his adoring prisoner.
For once he sought out her and not the other way around. He entered the archive and smiled when he saw her. He was in human form. She looked up from her book and smiled back warmly, without showing as much as a trace of bitterness in her expression. She saw him narrow his eyes at that, but his smile did not falter.
It was clear that he was still waiting for a reaction. For her to either explode or break down crying. It was delicious to see him treading so carefully, because he was not sure what to do next. She was not following the script that he had so carefully planned out for her, and she could see that underneath his smile, there was a tinge of frustration over it.
“Evening,” Tav said breaking the silence.
He took a seat in the sofa opposite from where she was sitting.
“Good evening,” he said back, still studying her face for a reaction.
Tav’s smile widened as she noticed how he had decided to sit away from her. She closed the book she was reading and put it on the table before getting up from her seat. She walked over to where he was sitting at a leisurely pace. He sat in silence as his eyes followed her every step.
He then seemed to notice she was wearing much more revealing clothing than she usually did. His eyes were devouring her exposed skin for a moment before they settled back on her face.
She sat down right beside him on the sofa. She leaned forward to place a quick kiss on his cheek that seemed as casual as if she had done it a hundred times before. His body tensed but he did not move away from her.
“How was your day?” she asked with a bright smile.
She could see that there was a bit of amusement to his smile now. It was clear that he was not quite sure what was happening, but he knew that she was up to something.
“Slightly tedious,” he answered casually. His eyes drifted down to her dress and lingered on her cleavage for a moment. “You look even lovelier than usual. The dress suits you…as does that charming smile of yours. You really should smile more, my dear.”
Tav’s eye twitched in annoyance at his last comment, but she quickly hid it. Though not quickly enough that Raphael did not notice it, and she could see the satisfaction in his smile at his comment managing to get a reaction from her, albeit a small one.  
“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to notice,” she said instead of the many things she wanted to say to that comment. “It’s difficult to smile when I miss you so much all the time.”
“Is that so?” he purred and snaked his arm around her waist to pull her closer.
She was not fooling him, and she could see it in his face, though that did not stop him from seeing how far he could push her in the little game they were playing.
“Mhm” she affirmed and leaned more against him.
“Hm,” he hummed and kissed the side of her head before murmuring into her ear: “Nothing ruins a good play quite like actors overplaying their parts, dear.”
She smiled and turned her head towards him. Her nose was almost touching his and she was looking directly into his brown eyes.
“You’re one to talk,” she said before kissing him.
He kissed her back and tightened his grip around her waist. He put his other arm under her leg and lifted her to sit on his lap.
He was in control again and Tav was not having it. She was done with simply letting him do what he wanted to her and be a passive participant like she always was with him.
She snaked her arm down between them and felt his hardening erection. He made a low groan in response and his tongue invaded her mouth. Both of his hands were around her, kneading her ass as she rubbed him through his pants. It did not take long before she could feel that he was fully hard.  
She tried to discreetly unbutton his pants while they were kissing, but one of his hands slid up her back and into her hair. He yanked her head back.
“What is it that you are trying to achieve with all of this?” he asked, looking into her eyes. Though his question had no doubt been meant to sound threatening, his tone and dilated pupils revealed just how aroused he was.
Tav smiled. Oh, she was having fun with this. It was immensely satisfying for her to finally see him a little rattled and confused. She traced the outline of his cock through his pants.
“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.
Raphael growled in a way that sounded simultaneously aroused and frustrated, as she touched him. He yanked her head back further, so her neck was exposed to him. He left a kiss and a gentle bite just above the choker she was wearing, before letting go of her hair.
“Off,” he commanded. He gave her a firm but not painful slap on her ass and then gestured for her to get off his lap so they could go to the bedroom.
 
To her surprise he indulged her and let her take the lead, at least for the moment it seemed. He had always been on top of her, but now she was on top of him, kissing her way down his body. She heard his breathing become heavier and heavier the closer she came to the part of him that was aching for her.
The moment her kisses and bites down his stomach reached to just above his cock, she heard his breath hitch slightly at the sensation. She saw his cock twitch in anticipation. It was her first time seeing it so up close. Even in his human form it was impressive in both length and girth.
She teased him by leaving sloppy kisses and small licks up and down his shaft, all while keeping eye contact with him. She could see that the teasing was getting to him. His body was aching for her, and he seemed to be on the verge of losing control.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked impatiently, referring to her endless teasing. She could hear that he was getting impatient, but it was too delicious to have him in the palm of her hand like that for her to stop.
“Mhm,” she affirmed and ran her lips over his shaft, earning her a groan.
She felt his hand tangle in her hair. He was not taking control over her movements yet, but it was a clear warning that he would if she kept going.
“Patience is a virtue, you know,” she said.
She teased the head of his cock with her tongue. It made him instinctively tighten his grip on her hair and groan deeply.
“Is that so?” he said. “So is humility, I hear.”
With that he pushed her head down, signaling that he was done waiting. He inhaled sharply as she took him fully in her mouth. When she began moving her head up and down on her own, his grip on her hair loosened and he let her do it at her own pace.
It did not take long before she managed to push him over the edge. She dug her nails into his thighs as he came in her mouth. He held her hair in a grip that told her that he expected her to swallow. His seed was almost burning in her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow.
He was breathless. He loosened his grip and ran his fingers through her hair instead.
“Such a good little mouse,” he said condescendingly, almost as if to a pet, which somehow managed to both piss her off and turn her on at the same time. “Come here.”
He gestured for her to kiss him. As she did, she wondered exactly how far he would let her take her little game. She felt daring. She wondered, not for the first time, how it would be to sit on that smug face of his and shut him up.
She moved further up his chest, and he must have guessed her intentions, because he smirked and grabbed her. He pushed her backwards, so she landed on her back. He pinned her to the mattress and then he started kissing his way down her body, the same way she had done with him.
“Control freak,” she muttered under her breath. She received a bite on her stomach for that comment.
Raphael was twice the tease that she had been. When he finally reached her now dripping core, he started teasing her with his tongue in an excruciatingly slow pace. She bucked her hips against his mouth, which only made him grab around her thighs to hold her down.
“Tut-tut. Patience is a virtue, dearest,” he said repeating her own words.
“You’re—” she interrupted herself with a moan as Raphael lightly ran the tip of his tongue over her clit. “You’re hilarious…”
So much for staying in control and not being a passive participant. Raphael was being relentless with his teasing, to the point where she was becoming a moaning and dripping mess under him. It went on for a long time and it was pure torture.
“Perhaps I would be able to find a shred of sympathy for you, if you begged nicely,” he suddenly said. She could feel him smile against her inner thigh, as he kissed and nibbled at the skin there.
Tav had to remind herself of the role she was currently playing. She was supposed to indulge him in what he wanted instead of resisting.
“Please…” she said.
“Oh, come now, dear,” Raphael said and looked up at her with a look that was downright sinful. He inserted a single finger into her, making her grasp the sheets. “Surely you can do better than that.”
He curled his finger inside her.
“Please, Raphael,” she moaned. She almost cringed at how pathetic and desperate she sounded.
“Much better,” he said and spread her legs slightly more.
He transformed into his devil form without warning, making her jump slightly in surprise. She seemed a bit confused with why he would suddenly do so, until he lowered his head between her legs.
“Mind the horns…” he said before he started eating her out.
He had to hold her legs open, so that she would not instinctively close them and hurt herself on his horns because of the sensation she felt between her legs. She suddenly understood why she had changed into that form: his tongue was not only longer but it was also forked.
He was looking up at her through the whole thing. He was making a low rumbling noise in his chest that almost sounded like a deep purring sound as he hungrily ate her out. His long tongue was inside her, and it almost sent her over the edge immediately.
She came harder than she ever had before, and it took her by complete surprise. She was grasping the sheets and on the verge of screaming as her climax washed over her. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath as it passed. Her legs were shaking, and she could hear Raphael chuckle as he was looking at the state of her.
Fuck him for being able to make her feel like that, Tav thought.
He leaned over her and kissed her. His long tongue was almost in her throat, and she could taste herself on his tongue. It was passionate, hot, and intoxicating. When he let go of the kiss, his gaze went from her lips to her eyes.
She was looking directly into his burning orange eyes when he suddenly changed back into his human form. He kissed her again, but this time it felt sweeter and more loving. His hand was caressing her face gently.
He left sweet kisses down her jaw and neck before laying his head on her chest. An all too vulnerable gesture that made her freeze.
She was not quite sure how to react.
She put her hand on his head with the gentleness of someone daring to touch an animal that might bite them. When he did not move or make a snarky comment at the gesture, she started slowly massaging his scalp with her fingers.
He made a low rumbling noise that almost sounded like a purr. He fell asleep on her chest not long after. Tav could not sleep. His arm was around her waist and his head was resting over her heart as he began snoring softly. She looked down at him. This man who was bigger than her and who was snuggling up to her in a way that seemed completely out of character for someone like him.
There he was, the devil that rips people apart simply to put them back together and start all over again, being infuriatingly human and vulnerable in her arms.
He was doing it on purpose, the bastard, Tav thought. He knew that she was playing games with him and now he was doing the same to her just to assert control over the situation.
She would not be fooled by him again, but she would play along.
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elluvians · 17 hours
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Hey! I got a question and you're the first person I thought to ask since you're a huge Dragon Age fan. I just bought the games to play for the first time and I was thinking of recording it for my youtube channel as a preparation for Dreadwolf (I have a small channel with only one video from a year ago 😂). Do you think a series of each game is something people would be inerested in? Aaaand if you could give me some non-spoilery tips about the games (I'm going in mostly blind besides who I plan to romance in each game 😅)
Welcome to Dragon Age Hell (affectionately)!
I think people would definitely be interested in watching your playthroughs! I watched some people playing DA games on YT and they always had a lot of people commenting and engaging.
As for the tips/more info on the games:
DAO came out in 2009 so be prepared for a pretty dated gameplay. Many people say it's their favourite games and it is really good but it's also old :D There are also 2 sections that can be pretty tedious but I would recommend to actually play them to get the full experience. There are shortcut mods for them though, in case you want to skip them.
DA2 - has some of the best characters and interactions but the game had lots of problems during (extremely short) development and it looks and feels pretty rushed. But seriously it has an amazing story. I think I played it even more than Origins.
Dragon Age Inquisition - I'm pretty biased here because it's my ultimate comfort game. The best advice I can give is don't feel like you need to stay in Hinterlands forever lol :D It's the first big location and there's lot of side quests and walking around so it can be overwhelming and you can feel stuck. So once you unlock new locations you can go there, you won't be locked out of any of the main ones until pretty much the end so you can always go back. Also if you have it definitely play Trespasser DLC! It's crazy good and packed with lore. Same for The Descent. And Jaws of Hakkon is also really good!
I hope you'll enjoy the games and if you have any questions feel free to ask! ❤️
There are also novels and comics available to read. And here's a link to a post with all the free stories if you'd like to read them as well!
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iturmom · 2 years
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SASUKE SHIPPUDEN PART 2! SASUKE SHIPPUDEN PART 2! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YEAH BABY! THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN WAITIN FOR THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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oveliagirlhaditright · 9 months
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I forgot to mention that I saw the trailer for the new the The Hunger Games movie when I went and saw Blue Beetle (the prequel, you know?) and it does look really good (even though at first I was unsure about it). I'm probably for sure going to see it when it comes out. Though this will be the first time that I haven't read the book first... unless I do end up reading the book between now and then.
#friends how do we feel about the 'the ballad of songbirds and snakes' novel?#because for me personally. and a lot of people i know... i honestly preferred the hunger games movies more than the books (even though you#have to love and appreciate the books. of course. because without them there would be no films)#is it the same with the prequel?#though i also know that many fans prefer the books and hate the movies: thinking the movies left out too much and that kind of thing#but yeah. since i DID prefer the movies. and think there's a good chance it might be the same way again. i'm thinking i might just watch th#movie first or maybe not even read the book at all#even though i'm usually of the mind of always reading the book. of course. and usually first#i think my reasons for preferring the movies are as follows... i really hated katniss in the books. i'm sorry. but i did. but seeing her#brought to life with the way jennifer lawrence played her really made me love her#also. people complain about some things the movies left out. and i definitely get that. to each their own#but i personally love the things the movies ADDED! that we didn't get to see since we're stuck in katniss' pov. that i think just bettered#the stories so much#and some (surely not all) of the things that were left out that people complained about i feel like aren't THAT needed?#like they didn't explain the avoxes#but i also feel like if you're smart you can clearly figure out what the capitol did to them#idk. this is just my opinion of course. anyone is free to disagree#but i say all as this as someone who isn't SUPER into the hunger games#i only read the books once. years ago. and i haven't seen the movies in a while. so i'm sure there are things i may have forgotten and migh#be getting wrong here#oh! another thing too is that i've seen people mention that they felt like suzanne collins' writing style with thg is almost script-like.#even though it's not a script of course#and that that might be another reason that i. and so many others prefer them as movies#because it was almost like she was writing the books TO be made into movies
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eggmeralda · 9 months
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kind of wish my way of coping with morbid things wasn't to expose myself to them until I become desensitised lol
#saw an iceberg for deaths caught on camera and was like. wow there is a LOT of information to look into and take in and none of it#is going to be nice. maybe i should leave and forget I've ever seen this#but no like obviously now i have no choice but to read in depth about every single death on there#bc i know if i ignore it i'll be thinking about it for longer#this was like with threads bc when i first heard a bit about it i was like. that sounds horrible. and i have a dissertation due in a few#weeks so like. i do Not need this on my mind right now#but that didn't do anything so in the end i had to watch it to get it out of my system#and then i guess it sort of worked bc?? now me and threads are besties#fav comfort film of all time. would recommend to everyone#okay not that. but genuinely i forget how bad i felt when i first read about it and now i think about scenes from it like 😐#is that healthy. probably not. anyway#also at the start of this year i was obsessed with kaylea titford's death and then not long after that shafilea ahmed's as well#that era feels so far away even though it was only like 8 months ago#but like e.g. with the shafilea ahmed thing i'm at the stage now where if it comes into my head i can easily push it away#but i could not do that back in february i literally wouldn't be able to sleep until i'd found out every single bit of information#oh god it's nearly the 20th anniversary of that isn't it#but yeah anyway it's like once you show me something morbid. even just a glimpse of it. that's it there's no going back#i will Not Stop until i know everything there is to know about it. and then it'll be on my mind for weeks until i stop feeling anything#and then i'll forget about it#i remember as kids me and my sister would sometimes see An Image on the unfiltered 2000s internet#like that one pic of the chupacabra that's obviously not real but like as a kid it's terrifying#and my sister's response would've been to close it and never look at it or think about it again#and i remember my parents wouldn't allow me to talk about chupacabras in front of my sister#which waS SO HARD bc my response to it was to hyperfixate#and the image creeped me out so to get rid of it i would look at it like everyday until i didn't feel anything anymore#and then me and the chupacabra image were besties <3 and I'd make jokes about it#idk what the point of this post is I've basically just told the same story three times#and there will soon be a fourth. once i watch this video going through the deaths caught on camera iceberg#which i am not going to do now bc it's 00:35 and if i don't sleep now i never will#ramble
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kalims · 2 months
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pop !
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giving them a balloon with a confession in it and running away,
premise. out of confession ideas? sick of the pile of stupid papers crumpled up on the leg of your desk? or perhaps you're just in the 'you only live life once' mindset. since the school year is ending, why not get rid of the annoying feeling of him tingling your mind? (in the form of a balloon, you never said you were gonna stick around!)
characters. all sorted by dorm
content. mc runs away after giving it, based on a tiktok I stumbled across approximately a year ago... mentions of marriage (one sign and some were speeding through the future)
note. savanaclaws part hmmm yummy
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heartslabyul
unsurprisingly, riddle gets a lot of bizarre things from students and professors alike. confessions are one thing but having one in this... circular, red, full of helium balloon is certainly a surprise. creative, he'll give them that. if anything he's just confused with it in his arms as you just sort of, shove it in his arms and run away. he recognizes you easily but once cater plucks it out of his grip and shows him the message he just turns red.
trey is the type of guy to accept whatever you give him, honestly. it doesn't matter if you give him the most random of items, he'll take it without a single word of query (unless it's really questionable.) you could hand him a bottle of mustard in class, trey'll just blink and hold onto it patiently. a pair of batteries? thanks he guesses. a red, inflated balloon? he spares you a questioning glance but you're already collecting dust with how fast you ran away so he turns it and resists a smile. clearly spotting the bold letters.
the opposite of clover, cater just doesn't take anything from you unless it piques his interest or is just a casual 'hold onto this for a few' like water or something. things bordering past unusual is what he'd hesitate to take, though less given he trusts you. sometimes he doesn't take it all together simply cause he doesn't feel like it. caters probably updated on everything so when you shove the balloon in his arms and beeline he's pulling out his phone ready to scream his ass off in his dump account. (also gotta magicam this, duh.)
will most likely just dump it on the ground without another thought. or hand it back to you. ace does not care about balloons, he might even pop it in your face. that is, if you stayed for more than a second. he feels more inclined to peer further cause you ran away so fast. you looked embarrassed, and he finds out quickly why you'd proceed to never show up to his face for the following week when he spots it. stares at it dumbly for like, a minute before taking off after you... be scared ig.
added to the top ten best moments of his life note on his phone. deuce silently highlights your name on it with the same angry, red bump on his forehead because he accidentally ran into a pole midst trying to find you around the campus. he had the same idea as ace (twins) which is finding you immediately except once he read the confession he promptly lost all his braincells in the process. so he's very excited, slash embarrassed, slash shy? and can't conjure any logic cause it's just your face.
savanaclaw
jokes on you. you think he's gonna make an effort to catch your stupid balloon? leona just watches it drop to the floor. the effort is only exerted when he's absolutely sure you've run away on your slow legs, he's not bashful—not at all. maybe that's just denial speaking though. he takes one look at the balloon, and pops it with a single dig of his nail. the stare is so brief that you'd doubt if he ever read it at all, when the evidence of your apparent love is now non-existent in the physical world, very much still lingering inside him. leona comes to the predicament that he can't seem to sleep days after.
ruggie is all too familiar with the lack of appreciation some folks hold towards cheaper material gifts. like a luxury jewel, a big, shiny lil' thing ultimately rotting in the closet of some soul cause its the 'price' that counts. he spots the words easily, discerning the black ink. not entirely formed with straight lines, the keen eyes of his spots the wriggles some hold. as though whoever wrote was nervous and he bores an impish grin. (and some back corner of his closet holds no big, pricey jewel, but the deflated balloon is worth all the more to him.)
more likely to leave it on accident. after falling victim to the annoying pranks his other first year 'friends' like to do, with him as the victim apparently. he's more suspicious of it than anything, jack does not want a face full of whipped cream once again. he stares at it like it's an alien and only goes for the initiative to take it into his hands when it rolls and showcases the very bold text, highlighted and straight to the point. jack inevitably ends up accidentally popping it due to the fear that some other person probably saw it, he did not mean to wreck it. atleast not with a messy chain of thoughts, but hey. atleast he got the message...
octavinelle
well versed in catching you in a gentle manner, if you ever slipped (he definitely did not practice.) so azul's reflexes respond quick enough to capture the red little thing with ease. he recognizes it as one of your antics, and he rarely doesn't humor them since it was harmless ones that don't really get under his skin, unlike that of the tweels... the curiosity of looking forward to whatever you had far outweighed any annoyance, and great sevens he might actually combust. ("JADE PREPARE THE LOUNGE—") <- absolutely ready to initiate the plans he had detailed through a script ages ago if this were to ever happen, with a red face. ha, ha.
either clueless, or already got an idea based entirely on the adorably stiff look on your face. jade easily puts two and two together, it's quite funny because he picks it up and doesn't spare a single look. stalking off to find you immediately, and only then does he take a peek as to whatever made the balloon special, right in front of you cause apparently he's gotta witness your raw embarrassment in the flesh?
floyd is likely not interested in the ball in the first place, he thinks you want to play catch so he runs after you with a laugh that... makes you a lot more concerned. he flings it uselessly to the face of some poor soul before he sprint after you, probably traumatizing them when they spot the 'I like you' on it, and when they realize they got it from the resident terrorist whose definition of 'I like you' is 'you're entertaining, I'm gonna keep on playing with you'. (only blinks when you tell him about it, seeing as he isn't close to releasing you anytime soon from his arms.) caught you!
scarabia
sparkles, around the sun... too bright... kalim's blinding everyone else with his obvious joy. almost immediately turns it and it's clear he saw something he really liked cause he has one of those grins, really wide, showing off his teeth and his face scrunches up to the point where you could barely spot the red irises of his eyes. his lips are wobbly too! and he thought the notion was simply too cute... (so much he just had to send it back, so you could feel what he felt too!) except it comes in a hundred times balloons inside your home.
really confused. is this supposed to be a new form of comfort in the era that he hasn't caught up with yet? jamil does nothing much to stop you from running away, yeah. that's your choice but it did strike an inkling of suspicion in him. with the way you aggressively shoved the balloon in his arms before you ran away makes him think it's contents are supposed to be for him only. seeing as you collected dust with that sprint, so he brings it home. and damn, thank god he did because seven forbid if anyone else actually saw the flicker of bashfullness in his expression, hopefully not his warming ears either.
pomefiore
you try to fool him by not rushing up to him, shoving it and then speeding away for once. but instead calmly placing it in his arms and then walking away like it might be the last time yall have a friendship haha (👀) vil sees right through you either way. dare I say he thinks the whole execution is strange, he means, you could literally just walk up to him and say the exact same thing written on the balloon and he would've loved it either way but eh, atleast you got it out!
don't walk into his room cause you will probably the very prominent place the balloon has in his room. rook surprisingly did not put it on a pedestal which is tame for his nature, but it does have a place in the corner of stuff he absolutely adores. you'd think you'd spared yourself from the embarrassment of seeing his reaction cause c'mon, that was a confession. it's nerve-wracking! but NO cause you spy him outside the window of your class and suffer a heart attack (3rd floor btw)
wherever he read that, epel's jaw drops. people would mistake him as someone who escaped from a mental asylum from the way he's gaping at a balloon like he just got told vil schoenheit got canceled on magicam for some controversy (he in fact, did not.) spends so much time staring at it, and the following where he's managed to snap out of it is spent also staring off into the distance *wedding bells ringing*
ignihyde
uuuuhhhhh... either send it to him digitally or shove it inside his room and dip?? if we're going with the latter, idia doesn't even notice until like, a day after cause he's been playing for. and it isn't even him who notices!! it's ortho!!! even if he did find it he would've ignored it, but behold, ortho, who reads the text in a hilariously flat tone. idia thought his brother was professing his love until the boy reveals it was from you. (nearly falls off the chair, then actually falls when he realizes it's been a day. imagine getting ghosted irl haha)
ortho could be the delivery boy if you're too embarrassed lmao. will help you in constructing a more poetic way with words but honestly the "YOU'RE CUTE LETS DATE" gets it done. boy probably doesn't understand why you don't wanna do it yourself, and records the entire thing, reaction of the person? forwarded to you until he leaves. but now you're suffering through wanting to watch, and not because you're too pussy to actually do it.
diasomnia
what... malleus is the equivalent of '???' like he's seen a few of these unique, forms but he never got the purpose of them. so he assumes it's like, some nice gift of human traditions question mark. so he appreciates it either way, he looks content honestly which is funny cause the terrifying wizard looks kinda silly holding that balloon like it's a child. actually you should've just gave him a blank balloon cause once he spots the confession, oh honey. are you fine with early marriage?
if you can't find lilia might as well yeet the balloon in the ceiling. chances are, he's there and he's gonna catch it. there's already a cheeky smile quirking up the ends of his lips, usually he'd have some sort of retaliation on the personal attack you inflicted on his heart but oh dear, it's strangely blank. he's humming, the round thing upside down as he rubs his chin in contemplation. everyone's just scared at the echoing giggles of the already dark hallway.
an attack? AN ATTACK! unlike lilia who knows how to use the figurative words youth joke about all the time, sebek is... hilariously serious about most things, if not so much that it strikes just a teeny tiny concern in your mind. honestly you didn't take much into account, not the fact that he might consider it as an assault or something because you're already speeding away. apparently not having gotten too far cause he catches up easily and holds you up by the back of your collar like a cat. (you'd most likely have to mention the words cause all he registered was the apparent attack, when he does check he goes redder in the face and accidentally drops you. nows your chance to run!!)
*angelic voice singing* silver, my boo boo, I mean what...? felt something soft being squeezed into his arms, he knew it was you but assumed it was a pillow so he just?? used it as a pillow?? under his head now?? most folks would be confused at the sight of the sleepy guy laying on a balloon cause, one, it might pop and startle everyone in vicinity, two, there's words scribbled on it. although cut off since his head is blocking the way, but the 'LIKE YOU' is really obvious. so he wakes up, glances at it and goes back to sleep, except he couldn't cause the balloon actually popped comically the same time he absorbed it in.
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inkskinned · 4 months
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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
loved beyond thinking.
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levitiquee · 7 months
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“Daaa-ddy.”
Levi startles, looking up. The little girl stood before him, all wide eyes and beaming at him.
“Yes? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
She shrugs, then thrusts out a hair brush and a set of scrunchies. “Do my hair today!” She grins.
Levi is taken aback slightly, not at all expecting such a request. It’s not that he had a bad relationship with his daughter really, if anything Levi spends every second that he can spare with her. But even so, it was so sudden and specific, not to mention she has never asked him to do it before. It was you who helped her get ready.
“Doesn’t mommy usually do that?” He asks slowly. “Is she busy?”
She shakes her head quickly. “I just want you to do it today.” She smiles, holding the brush out to him, waiting for him to take it.
Levi glances at it then looks back up. How could he say no to that?
So, without a word, he motions her to turn around which she follows happily, pulling a stool nearby to sit between Levi’s legs. Levi takes the brush, though slightly hard to hold without his missing fingers, he manages, combing through the black silky strands.
Like his.
Though, his own hair was stranded with gray now, a sign of the long years he had lived. Even Ackermans don’t stay young forever.
But it’s still so strange to him, having her here, right in front of him. He still freezes a little when she smiles at him, watching her with awe. She looked almost exactly identical to him, starting from the shape of her face to the color of her eyes, just the exact shade of the silvery blue that his own eyes hold. But there was a brightness in those eyes that Levi doesn't think he ever had. She was like this little ball of sunshine, always so bright.
And her smile, that came from you.
She was his. Yours. Theirs.
A part of him and a part of you. A whole other human being. A child. A blessing.
It was the hardest at thr beginning. For him to get used to it. Despite the 9 months of pregnancy, it was when he first held her that the realization finally hit him. That she was his daughter. His.
And the moment his eyes locked with the newborn, he knew he was doomed.
That there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this small, small, absolutely tiny person that came to earth no more than half an hour ago. That he had just met.
It was crazy how it only took him only a moment for him to swear his life for her, to become so protective. It was actually ridiculous, how he felt anxious even when it was the nurses holding her, he’d been so rigid, so poised. Even when handing her over to someone else’s arms, he had his hand outstretched because just in case. It took a shit load of convincing from you for him to let Jean and Connie hold her.
It was crazier watching her grow up. Never had he felt this ridiculous amount of pure joy and excitement ever. Only to hear her first words, to watch her take her first steps, holding his hand. He swears it was only yesterday.
His chain of thought was cut off as she started to happily chatter about things. Unlike Levi, she talks. A lot. Levi doesn’t mind, he listens quietly. Every once in a while, inserting a comment.
“I’ve read about you. In the history books. Our teacher taught us.”
“Yeah?” He mumbles, brushing softly. “What’d you learn?”
“They called you humanity’s strongest.” She stumbles on the word a little, which was a bit heavy for her usual vocabulary. She turns around to look at him with awe and wonder, wide eyes asking for confirmation. “That’s so cool!”
He only lets out a small hum in response.
"Will I be as strong as you one day?"
"Sure. You already are." He hopes she never needs to be.
“I saw your picture too. And mommy’s. Also, Uncle Connie used to be bald back then.” She finishes with a giggle, the idea of Connie’s lack of hair amusing her. “You were like a superhero, weren’t you daddy?”
“I wouldn’t shoot that far.” He answers with a small smile.
Back then, Levi had never imagined the idea of having a family. There, caged between the walls, surrounded by those tremendous monsters. When there was no guarantee that you’d come back alive once you’re out there. How could he even think of bringing a child to the world, if he couldn’t even do the least that is to promise their safety?
But now, here she runs and plays outside, without a worry in the world, tirelessly. She doesn’t have to starve like Levi had to, she grows up with only all the good the world has to offer. She doesn’t know the worst of how things could be and Levi hopes she never does. She doesn’t yet understand the role Levi and you had played in creating this world, but she does understand the value of it. She asks questions sometimes, about the wheelchair and the eye and the hand. About your scars and why somedays you can't get yourself from bed. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to answer. And Levi knows, one day, he’ll have to tell her all of it, life back then and the life he had. But for now, he prays, let her grow up with only love and pureness. Let her see the world in her rose colored glasses. Something he never got to do.
She taps Levi’s leg as he bunches the hair to tie a ponytail. “Do braids.” She says.
“Braids? Don’t you always wear a ponytail?” Levi asks.
“Yes, but,” She tries to explain, stumbling for words. “Tash always pulls by it.”
Tash was one of her classmates, Levi knew from her frustrated rants about him. From what he could gather, neither liked each other much. “Next time he bothers you, you do the thing that I taught you.” He tells her.
“The thing with my hands?” She asked brightly, balling her hands to show him.
“Hey, no beating up kids at school. Levi!” You appear in the doorway, only catching the last bit of the conversation. “Don’t give her ideas. And you,” You look at your daughter who was smiling smugly. “I’ve been looking for you–wait, is Levi doing your hair?” You say, finally noticing and very surprised.
‘Yes!” She replies excitedly, “He’s doing braids! He’s very slow though.”
Levi playfully pats her head. “It’s because you keep moving.” He sighs. “Must you need braids? I’m not sure if I can–”
“Yes.”
Levi was about to say something else until she turned around, giving him the most adorable pout ever, eyes all round and needy, her brows pinched together. “Please?” She asks sweetly.
Well damn.
Levi tries, he really tries. But the word no somehow managed to disappear from his vocabulary, along with all of its synonyms. So he sighs, nodding.
“Levi, I can–” You start.
“It’s okay.” He puts up a hand, stopping you. He doesn’t know much about the process, but he’s spent enough time watching you do her hair. So he thinks he can manage it. “I can do it. Probably.” He says uncertainty.
It was slightly difficult to manage multiple sections of hair when you’re missing two fingers, but even surprising himself, he does manage it, after a few attempts. A little uneven, but works.
"Happy?" He asks her, patting her head.
It was good enough for the girl, who jumped up right after it was finished and cheered happily as an answer to Levi. She jumps to his arms, pulling him by the neck to plant a big smooch in his cheek.
“You're the best.” She beams at him, then running off to grab her bag which was by the door.
“Wow, mommy’s nonexistent now?” You fold your arms in mock offense.
She doesn’t answer, only picks up her bag and runs to hug you full speed, wrapping herself around your knees. “I love you.” She calls out, then turns to Levi. “And I love you too! I'm leaving now!”
Then she was out the door before you could say I love you back.
“Don’t run, you’ll fall.” Levi calls out to her, who was already far out of hearing range.
You closed the door. Then leaned against it, staring at Levi.
Levi looked away, cheeks heating up slightly, noticing the strange way you were staring at him, already knowing what comes after.
“So.” You said.
“So, what?” He said, glancing at you.
“Where'd you learn how to do braids?"
He huffs. "From you. I watched you do it.''
"Really?' It was so cute you could melt.
“Stop looking at me like that.” He grunts. “She’s my girl. I can do her hair sometimes, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“So, I’m not your girl?” You pout, exactly the same expression your daughter made just moments ago. “How come I don't I get braids?”
“I–” Levi starts, then huffing frustratedly. He can’t even say no to his daughter, who was he to say no to the mother? He tries nevertheless.
“I’m not doing it. Stop looking at me like that.”
You did not look away, pouting out your lips more.
“I won’t.”
You blinked, turning your expression sadder.
Levi gives up.
“C’mere.” He sighs.
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alisonwritesimagines · 9 months
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Please Don't Be In Love With Someone Else ~LA!Shanks x Reader x LA!Mihawk Imagine~
Summary: You keep waiting for Shanks. But someone new comes along and suddenly, you're not so lonely.
Author’s Note: You read the title correctly. I'm evilly laughing right now as you read this in pain. Also, this is technically a rewrite of the angst ending cause the one I wrote and in my drafts is more fluff than angst.
Angst Ending to I Was Enchanted to Meet You
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: angst, fluff, but angst to all you Shanks lovers
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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It had been years since you last saw Shanks. And it's been a year since you last saw Luffy. Ever since he was old enough to sail off in the world to find the One Piece to become King of the Pirates, you had been by yourself since. Of course you did a lot for your small village to keep you occupied but you still missed your boys.
You were tending to your garden as it was time for you to harvest before it became spoiled and over grown. That was until you heard someone say something behind you.
“You don’t seem like someone who can harm a fly."
You turned around to see the warlord Dracule Mihawk standing before you. You stood up straight to seemed less intimidated.
“I can hurt a fly. Don’t think I’m good at harming anyone else,” you tell him as you crossed your arms.
“I see.”
“I know who you are so what do you want?” You asked.
“I was sent to kill you but in all honesty, I don’t think I can kill you. You’re too beautiful to be killed,” he tells you.
“Who sent you to kill me?” You asked, now worried. You’ve stayed in the island since you were born. Not only that, you stayed even when Luffy left.
“Not to worry now. I don't have any intentions to kill you," he tells you.
"Then what are you still doing here?"
"I'm curious to see why someone would send me to go after you."
"Feel free to stay. Just to tell you, it's going to be quite boring," you tell him.
Mihawk stayed around the next day to watch over you. He didn't understand why Vice Admiral Garp would want a warlord like him to kill a sweet little thing like yourself. You did nothing of the sort that would be considered dangerous or even pirate bounty level dangerous.
"Ow!" You yelled as you accidently burnt yourself with the pan.
"What happened? What's wrong?" Mihawk asked you as he rushed inside your home.
"Just burned myself," you tell him.
Mihawk quickly grabbed your bucket of water before gently putting your finger in the cool liquid.
"Thanks," you tell him.
"Of course."
"I made extras if you'd like. I got used to cooking for two," you tell him.
"Was it for you and your past lover?" Mihawk asked you.
"Not really surprisingly. I used to take care of a little boy who used to live with me who had a bottomless stomach. He wanted to become a pirate so he set sail a year ago," you tell him.
"I see."
"So, dinner?"
"Why not."
Mihawk stayed for a couple more weeks before he needed to back out to sea. You stood on the deck as you watched Mihawk get ready to leave.
"So I guess this is farewell?" You asked him.
"For now. I will be back in a month at most," he tells you.
"To finish me off and claim your berry?" You asked.
"No. To come see you again," Mihawk said before sailing off. You shook your head at him before walking back to your home.
You assumed Mihawk was lying or joking when he said he was coming back to see you. But to your surprise, you opened your door to see him standing before you.
"Brought you some new seeds for you to grow in your garden," Mihawk tells you.
"I'm guessing you're staying for dinner?" You asked with a small smile.
"If you'd have me," Mihawk said. You nodded before letting him inside your house.
-
As much as you didn't want to admit, you fell for Mihawk. Even though part of you hoped for Shanks to come back, you appreciated the fact that no matter how long Mihawk was gone for or even if he was wounded badly, he came back to you. Even though Shanks would come back to you, he hasn't for years.
"Will you be mine?" Mihawk asked you one night. After a midnight stroll, you both headed back to your home. Mihawk stopped you from walking inside by holding your hand.
"What?" You asked in shock.
"Be mine. I've fallen for you Y/n. And I swear to you, I would never let anything happen to you," Mihawk tells you.
"Alright. I'll be yours," you tell him. Mihawk gave you a small smile before pulling you towards him.
"May I kiss you?" Mihawk asked you.
"Yes."
Mihawk cupped your cheek with his hand before leaning in to kiss you.
-
Shanks rushed over to your home after being away for so many years. He was excited to tell you his adventures and was looking forward to seeing you once again. He knocked on your door, his heart pounding in excitement.
Instead of seeing you, he saw someone else open the door. His smile faltered as he stared at the stranger in front of him.
"May I help you?" The stranger asked him.
"My apologies. I was hoping to find Y/n L/n? The woman who lived here?" Shanks asked.
"Oh. I'm sorry. She's been gone for quite sometime. She left the village I want to say two years ago? Her and her husband moved to another island."
"Her husband?"
"Yes. I'm surprised she married a warlord but he had been kind to the village whenever he was here," the stranger pointed out.
"Do you happened to know her husband's name?"
"I believe it was Dracule Mihawk."
Shanks made it to Mihawk's castle where he knew you would be at. After demanding to see you, Mihawk came out to talk to him.
"You should know my wife is resting," Mihawk tells him.
"You took her from me," Shanks angrily tell him.
"I didn't take her from anyone. When I met her, she was alone," Mihawk informs him.
"She never told you about me?" Shanks asked.
"No she has. I just never told her that I knew you."
"Please. Let me see her!" Shanks asked.
"Let me see if she's well enough to move," Mihawk said.
"Is she sick?" Shanks asked.
"Not entirely."
Shanks waited anxiously for you to come down. His eyes widen when he saw Mihawk helping you down. Your stomach was large but he knew that it was because you were pregnant. And what's worse was that it wasn't Shanks's child you were carrying. It was Mihawk's child.
"Shanks?" You asked in shock.
"Hi, Y/n."
-
You sat in the garden with Shanks alone so you two could talk. Shanks stared at you, admiring your beauty once more. While you thought you were alone, Shanks knew that Mihawk was watching nearby.
“Are you happy my love?” Shanks asked you as he held your hand.
“I am. Hawk Eye makes me happy,” you tell him with a small smile.
“I’m happy that you’re happy.”
“I did wait for you Shanks. I really did. But I feared that if I waited any longer, I’d be too old for you,” you tell him with a frown.
“You could never be too old for me. You could have white hair and many wrinkles and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Shanks tells you. You smiled at him before tearing up.
“I loved you Shanks. And I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you longer."
“Don’t apologize my love. I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you sooner,” Shanks said. You nodded before taking off your makeshift necklace that held the ring Shanks gave to you. You handed it over to Shanks before kissing his cheek.
“I hope life treats you well and I hope you find a woman who will love you endlessly as much as I did,” you tell him.
“And if Hawk Eyes dares to lay a hand on you, come find me. I’ll protect you.”
“I know you will."
"So this is goodbye then huh?" Shanks asked you.
"If you find Luffy, tell him I miss him and love him dearly. And that, he's more than welcome to visit me or find me whenever he wants," you tell him. After all, Luffy was yours and Shanks's unofficial son and you two were his unofficial parents.
"Goodbye, Shanks,” you tell him before giving him a kiss on the cheek once more.
“Goodbye, my love.”
You sat on the couch in your lounge room waiting for your son to arrive with his new fiancée. Twenty five years had gone by and you had lived your life. Dracule sat next to you as you both waited for your son to come home. Now that your husband has retired from being a pirate, he had spent his time with you while your children explored the world.
“I wonder what she’ll be like,” you tell your husband.
“I trust his judgement. After all, I chose well didn’t I?” Dracule joked.
“You most certainly did,” you smiled.
“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” You heard your son say.
“Over here!” You called from where you were.
You smiled at your son the moment he walked in but your eyes widen from the sight of the woman next to him. Not only did she have the exact same hair as Shanks, but she also had the same eyes as him. It was no doubt that she was Shanks's daughter.
“Mother. Father. This is my fiancée, May,” your son said proudly. You smiled at the woman before getting up from your chair to greet her.
“It’s nice to meet you, May,” you tell her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Mihawk.”
“Please call me Y/n,” you tell her as you shook her hand. You noticed her necklace with a ring on it. It looked exactly like the one Shanks gave to you from years before.
“I like your necklace,” you say.
“Oh thank you. My father gave it to me. Said it was his prize possession,” she tells you. You felt your heart break a little from what she said.
“Will we be able to meet your parents soon?” You asked.
“Unfortunately no. My mother passed away from childbirth and my father passed away not too long ago,” she tells you. You frown from hearing that.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright. I’m really glad to have met your son,” May tells you. You smiled at her before giving her a hug.
“Well, I know my son will treat you well. And if he doesn’t, you tell me,” you tell her. May smiled at you before looking at your son.
At the end of the night, you stood outside on your balcony as you stared up at the stars.
Maybe this was the universe telling you that in another life, you and Shanks end up together. But you did wish he didn’t have to be gone so soon. You wished that he would’ve came back to you sooner and maybe you two could've had the future you two wanted together.
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bratbby333 · 25 days
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your beauty never scared me ˚➶ 。˚ ☁️ suguru geto
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ synopsis: after having your heart broken, your best friend helps you pick up the pieces ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ content + warnings: nsfw + mdni !! fem!reader x suguru, reader was in a toxic relationship + cheated on, fwb!suguru, angst, comfort, smut, unprotected sex ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ word count: 5k (+ a smau!! woo!!) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ author notes: pink indicates reader's pov, orange is suguru's...inspired by Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green <3 also this was not beta read so pls excuse any typos xx i hope yall enjoy !!
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Heartache has its own special way of ruining someone…
...stripping away every ounce of self-respect you work so hard to accumulate. That’s the trouble with letting people in. The outcome is almost always undecided, left in the hands of fate or whatever the hell you believe in. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness, letting a stranger entangle themselves with every fiber of your being, see every inch of your skin, explore the darker parts of your mind– even the things you hide from yourself. Putting trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. Never knowing someone’s true intentions until you discover them in bed, in your bed, with another. When something breaks inside of you, something cynical puts the pieces back together. You are a shell of who you once were. Blame it on soul-crushing character development.
It’s hard to watch the woman you love destroy herself…
...for the sake of holding on to someone who has only ill-intent in their heart. Perhaps it’s best to remove yourself. It’s agonizing, knowing you have the ability to save her from all this. You could relieve her of the heartache, free her from the suffering. Bring her nothing but joy. She has changed, evolved, and is nearly unrecognizable now. You watch as he withers her down into nothing. That man broke her, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And the woman you see now isn’t the same one you knew all those years ago.
The cold air of December flurries around outside as your chest erupts in warmth at the sight of her name illuminating your lock screen. She asks to see you, and you’d be a fool to decline. As she’s sat before you, you take in every part of her that you missed. But she’s different now. Dull eyes, sloping shoulders, her cheekbones are sunken in as her clothes hang from her figure like it's two sizes too big. But it isn’t, you remember the day she bought that t-shirt. The soul that normally inhabits her body has been replaced with something…unrecognizable. You know it’s her, but your mind tells you otherwise. The way her voice lilts from her lips, how chillingly different she sounds while delivering the news, it’s heartbreaking. 
She informs you she won’t be around much, mentioning that it will take time for her to heal from this. You pretend to be supportive of the distance she wants to place between herself and her loved ones, even though it absolutely crushes you. 
There’s something peaceful about loneliness…
…only relying on yourself for company. It can be draining of course. With the few friends you do have, you make the most of it. It’s a serene feeling, private even. People perceive you however they please, but only a few trusted individuals know your ins and outs. It's refreshing. 
God forbid you have to cater to someone else, especially when dating. It's hard enough having to take care of yourself. You make sure your friends know they’re loved and appreciated, of course, but the idea of inviting another person into your life; someone who demands your time and attention in order for it to work out? No thank you. It’s backfired for you many times before, you aren’t willing to go through it again. Your friends have watched you heal from heartbreak after heartbreak, each one more damning than the last. No one blames you for your cynicism, it’s understandable. 
Plus, the emotional upkeep of a romantic relationship is exhausting. And the idea of meeting someone, falling for them, and it not working out in the end? Torturous. Why put yourself through all that?
“You just haven’t found the right one!” 
“They’ll come around when you least expect it!”
“You gotta put yourself back out there!” 
Blah, blah, blah. Not interested. There’s no room for hopeless romance in this ill-fated world. You’re not dealing with that pain anymore. Not if you can help it. 
The trouble with love is that it’s cruel…
…discriminatory, even. Picking and choosing who gets to rejoice in its bliss and simultaneously alienating the unfortunate souls who suffer in its unyielding grip. You attempt to find peace in the silence of her absence, telling yourself that she’s okay, but knowing all too well that her precious heart is still shackled to someone so undeserving. You hold on to the irregular check-in’s you get from her. You hope she’s healing, and you prepare yourself for the outcome; that when she finally returns, she will not be the same person she was. 
Betrayal has a pesky habit of sticking around…
…a lingering feeling that still eats away at you. The night you caught him in his infidelity, something deep within you broke. It wasn’t your heart, no, that would be too simple. It was your psyche, the core of your being. The day he left, a part of you left with him. The chemistry of your brain changed, your atomic makeup shifting toward nihilism. 
So you move through life differently now. Every positive outlook you once had now cast to the wayside, replaced with unyielding suspicion in attempts to keep your heart guarded from the outside world. Hope has finally run out, the idea that there’s good in everyone proven to be a goddamn lie. You shove your desire for love into a padded safe and hide it away on a forgotten shelf in your mind. Hell, you’d burn that obnoxious feeling if you could. Run it through a meat grinder, chuck it into a volcano, nuke it. Doesn’t matter. Anything to stop it from tearing you apart. It’s not like it’s done you any good. Besides, who would want someone as damaged as you?
Part of you feels guilty…
…for sitting idly by, knowing your dear friend was hurting so deeply. But there wasn’t much you could do. You grant her space, knowing she wasn’t given that same courtesy for four years of her life. You pray she returns soon, aware that she doesn’t do well on her own. Her own mind is acting like a prison, holding her hostage, forcing her to relive her pain day in and day out. But, god damn it, you can’t take it anymore. You have been without her for so long. So you reach out, demanding she spend time with you. Self-isolation can only get you so far. It had been months since you’d seen her last. And to your surprise, she agrees.
A spring evening, 65 degrees, the setting sun…
…a gentle breeze that laps at your warm skin as you sit cross-legged on a checkered blanket. The beautiful flowers of May decorate the ground in colorful clusters. The cicadas sing while the bees are busy buzzing around. It’s a strange feeling; coping with the fact that your life has reached rock-bottom, a total stand-still as you work to heal yourself, yet life continues to move, to grow, to thrive. It’s inspiring in a way. You are accompanied by Suguru. He managed to get you out of the house after weeks of rotting away inside, anchored down by the gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak.
Laughter echoes through the park as the two of you revel in the serenity. Life feels…good. Whole. Worth living. It’s been a while since it has felt this way. It shouldn't feel strange, but it does. Happiness has become a foreign concept to you.
Sitting before you is the woman you love…
…the color in her cheeks has returned, the fullness of her face present once more. After suffering through the many months of thunder and unrelenting downpour in her mind, she has bloomed once more. Finally. You couldn’t pull your attention away from her even if you wanted to, your body and mind drawn to her in the most spiritual way. Even though she’s deep in thought, working to take in her surroundings, her beauty is still very much evident. She isn’t even aware of the power she holds– utterly entrancing. You would do anything to live in this moment forever. You’d do anything for her. 
But in this moment…
…with a forgotten feeling of fulfillment creeping its way into your chest as the soft rays of the sun dance across your skin and the sounds of nature swirl through your ears, you realize something. Something so beautiful, yet so fucking terrifying. You love him. Suguru. Maybe it was just your heartache talking, connecting dots that had no business associating. 
You brush it off, hide it away, and chalk it up to just being in a vulnerable moment. Your heart had been torn from your body only a few months prior. Anger still rips through your chest when you think about it. Four years wasted on someone you had placed on the highest pedestal, far higher than you placed your family, your friends…yourself. You were blindsided. In an instant, everything you had come to love, the home you felt safe in, the person you thought you knew…ripped away. Like it was nothing at all. 
Suguru has done what he could to mend the wounds for you, knowing good and well that if you are left to your own devices you would spiral past the point of return. And as renewing as this spring evening is, you know you will never be the same again. 
But you can’t help but fixate on the way he makes you feel. And as hard as you try to push those feelings away, they continue to bubble up. What happens when it finally reaches its boiling point?
You’re only human. You have wants, needs, and desires…
…so who do you turn to for that release? Suguru, of course. Isn’t that what friends are for?
Some would say it’s an evil thing to do; to use someone for pleasure, your own personal gain. A part of you understands that, too. Sure, it may have started out that way, but it’s shifted. And that scares the shit out of you, how you find yourself searching for his validation, the sadness you feel when he leaves in the morning after a night full of fun. So why not tell yourself that you’re just doing what you need to do, rather than what you want to do. Ignoring the fact that deep down you really fucking love it. 
It’s not like you’re taking advantage of him and the bond you share…not really, anyway. The two of you are very close, having known each other for ten years. Side by side, maneuvering through a decade of emotional ups and downs; personal dilemmas, weird family dynamics, terrible relationships, fluctuating hormones and unexpected cast changes within your friend group. But the two of you have always stayed consistent, the main characters. Your personalities mesh well, constantly riffing off one another. Never ending laughter and smiles. He's seen you at your absolute worst and vice versa. The true definition of unconditional love. So why not get a little more from him? After all this time, it feels warranted, well-deserved, even. Ignoring what you feel for him, it just makes sense that this is how it should go down. Plus, if it was such a bad idea, why would he agree?
You would accept her…
…in any way she chooses to present herself to you. After years of watching her hurt, you finally have your friend back, and there isn’t anything you wouldn't do to make her happy. Especially with guilt that you still feel, knowing there was nothing you could have done that would’ve saved her from her suffering. So when she suggests the idea of being friends with benefits, you’d be insane to deny her that. Is it a bad idea? Perhaps. You refuse her offer? She slips away, seeking refuge in the arms of another, someone who could hurt her…Never again.
You crave her so deeply that this arrangement seems perfect. Even though you dread the morning after, not wanting to leave her side…jumping on every opportunity to see her, showering her in praise every time you’re nestled deep within her warmth– the way her eyes light up at your word makes you melt. Is it possible she feels the same way? The more you think about it, the less crazy the idea seems. Would she leave you in the dust if you told her the truth? You don’t want to risk losing her. Not if you can help it. But you can’t confess your underlying intentions. Even though a deep part of you hopes for more, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Hide it. You get to be with her in a way that you never have before, and that’s enough for you…right? 
.。*゚+.*.。
It all transpired after one drunken night playing a confessional card game with your friend group. You were shit-faced and horny, and he wasn’t any better off. You’re honestly surprised his dick still worked that night, but god did it work. You didn’t expect it to go any further after that, assuming it was a one-off occasion. The two of you never really addressed what happened, either, didn’t take the time to have a real conversation about it. Just a quick “hey, do you wanna…” followed by an indifferent “yeah, why not?”, and that was that. Which is probably a good thing, because any more talking would have most likely resulted in your true feelings coming to the surface. But it happened, and is still happening, so who are you to complain? It’s perfect.
.。*゚+.*.。
Your friends and random on-lookers alike say you’re compatible, and yeah, they might be right, but fuck that. Why risk the friendship you cherish so deeply for a title? That's idiotic. It's borderline insanity. The minute you put a label on something it all comes crashing down. So, why ruin a good thing? 
Don’t overthink it. It’s nothing serious, and it never will be. You refuse to open yourself up to somebody else, someone new. No more getting hurt. You’ve let Suguru into your life in a more meaningful way than you have for anyone else. And that’s far enough.
Does he know every little thing about you? Sure. 
Does he care for your well-being? Yeah. 
Is he attentive, thoughtful, and supportive? Of course…it is Suguru after all. 
But so what? That's what friends are for. 
.。*゚+.*.。
You and Suguru see each other frequently, at least three times a week, whether it’s just a normal hangout or…a hangout. You just get what you need and go; a good laugh, dinner and a movie, casual drinks, or a heaven-sent dick appointment. You both seem content, enjoying one another’s company and…bodies…and minds and souls. 
Fuck.
It’s hard to ignore your totally natural, human need for deeper intimacy. But you try to, and damn do you try hard. It would probably be best for you to stop hooking up with Suguru and just go back to how things were. 
You can’t go through this. Not again. You’ve already shifted the perfectly normal dynamic you once had into something deeper. Something…real. There’s no turning back now. So you continue to hide behind your ego, fighting off every demon known to man in hopes that this will all just go away. 
You’ve been somewhat successful in suppressing your feelings, molding them into something more manageable. You are best friends, with the addition of benefits. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. You pretend to be ignorant of Suguru's awe-inspiring beauty. How his energy is absolutely addicting, the way his lingering touch burns your skin so beautifully. He makes you feel seen for everything you are and appreciates you for everything you’re not. That sentiment alone propels you through the unexplored cosmos, crossing the line between reality and nirvana as starlight dances across your skin.
Not to mention, when you two are actually fucking? It's like two parts of the same soul finally meeting after centuries of arduous searching. You don’t know where your body stops and his begins, entangled in the most profound way. 
God. You sound insane. This is no way to view a friend…your best friend, at that. Get it together. 
What would you even call this? Touch starved? No, he touches you plenty…and in all the right places, too. Is it desperation? Your insatiable need for love? Karmic punishment for all your failed relationships? The corny trope where you end up falling for your best friend? As much as you want to fight against the feelings you have for him, it’s too late. 
Whatever. Just play it off. You refuse to let your walls down. And you’d hate to give Suguru the satisfaction of being the one who commandeered heavy machinery and sent a wrecking ball toward your emotional fortress. 
If you don’t acknowledge your feelings they’ll just cease to exist, right? Yeah, that’s how it works. And it’s a super healthy coping mechanism, too. 
.。*゚+.*.。
All this deep pondering and emotional soul searching has got you worked up. You decide to see if Suguru wants to come over. Not because you miss him, or anything. It’ll be nothing more than a casual hook up. Dick only, no feelings. 
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You catch yourself giggling at his messages. Gross. You brush it off with a shake of your head, a violent wave of self awareness washing over you. 
I'm not going through this again. I refuse.
You read the messages over and over. Do you seem desperate? Do your texts carry the perfect amount of indifference? Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s just Suguru, anyway. He's stuck around this long, it would take a lot to scare him off, now.
The plan’s in motion, and you’re going to have a good time tonight. You feel your heart rate spike at the thought of seeing him. That's a totally normal reaction for someone who has no feelings involved, right? Just friends…right? 
Suguru chuckles as he reads your response. Excitement floods through his body in anticipation. Is it finally time to confess? His own eagerness catches him off-guard. He can’t. It’s too soon. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Keep it together.
.。*゚+.*.。
It’s been so long since the feeling of joy has drifted between these barren walls. You take a swig of your drink, exhaling happily through your nose as the sweet juice dances with the sting of the liquor, warming your chest as you swallow. Leaning back on the couch with one leg kicked up on the coffee table, you absentmindedly swirl your glass as you gaze at Suguru.
“I’m really happy to see that you’re doin’ better,” he muses, taking a sip before setting his cup down. You offer him a small nod paired with a gentle smile, looking back at the drink nestled between your fingers; the ice that’s creating condensation on the outside, the way the sun seeps between the half-open curtains in your living room, the cooing of birds just beyond your window panes. Quite frankly, you’re trying your hardest to focus on anything but him. Ignoring the thrum of your heart every time you look into his eyes, pretending the smooth cadence of his voice doesn’t make your body tremble. 
Say you do confess? What then? Is that really something you want, anyway? Or is it just nice to lust after someone? No, it’s not that. You really do love him. You haven’t even considered the possibility of him reciprocating these feelings, and odds are if he does, you’ll just run for the hills, not willing to open your heart up again. Your last relationship destroyed you. There’s no way you’ll allow someone to fill that void. Not with the possibility that it’ll all be a farce. 
After a moment of silence, you finally speak up. “Me, too. And it’s all thanks to you, Sugu.” You finally meet his gaze, and it’s as if his eyes are attempting to pierce through you with how intently he’s looking at you. His expression quirks as if to ask what you mean. You decide to test the waters a bit. Fuck it.
“You…you’ve made me feel…whole again,” your words come out a bit choppy and drawn out, still battling with your decision to come clean. Your eyes dart around his face before looking away once more. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of if you want to elaborate. Even if you stop here, it’s okay. That’s a totally normal thing to say to a friend who helped you in your time of need.
Your head snaps toward him at the sound of your name. More is said, but you focus on the way he addresses you. He says it so softly, so gently, like the very syllables of your title grace his tongue as they sway from in between his vocal cords. For four years, your name was used against you, weaponized with anger and hatred. But his words are relayed to you with nothing but love behind them. 
Your ears are ringing as you stare at him blankly. You shake your head in hopes to clear the thoughts that are clouding it. “Wait…wha? What did you just say? The last part?”
“I said, it’s because I love you,” he smiles as he watches your face flush. Time slows as your heart rate speeds up. You brows furrow a bit, trying to piece together what the hell is going on.  A million thoughts spin through your head as you stare at him. “You…love…me? Like, in a ‘best friends’ kinda way, right?” You’re shocked as he shakes his head. “No. I love you, and I have for a while. In a more than friends kinda way,” he laughs a bit before leaning forward, reaching for your hand. “You love me, too. Don’t you?” 
“I-” your words get caught in your throat as his fingers rub against the back of your hand. As calm and collected as Suguru seems on the outside, he is spiraling on the inside. He isn’t sure where this newfound confidence is coming from, but he decides to roll with it. His heart thrums in his chest as he anxiously awaits your response. He has reached his tipping point, wanting nothing more than to finally be able to call you his.
You look down, staring at the place where the two of you meet, the feeling of electricity coursing through your body. A chill runs down your spine before you look back at him. “I-I do. I love you.” 
.。*゚+.*.。
You’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out across the bed. Your arms are wrapped tight around his neck as he gently thrusts into you with slow, deep ruts of his hips. His head is tucked into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing across your sensitive skin. 
He leans back, looking down at you with a sweet smile, “You are so beautiful.” His eyes run up and down your body, taking in every dip and curve of your figure, before fixating on where the two of you meet. His lips part as he watches himself disappear inside of you, a deep moan breaking through his chest at the sight of your sweet juices coating his length. He rubs intricate circles into your clit, loving the way you sound as your body writhes under his touch.
Tears begin to pool behind your eyes as you gaze up at him, entranced by the way he manages to stimulate every sense in your body. This is what love truly feels like, bestowed upon you by a man who wants nothing more than to fulfill every facet of your life.
He presses his forehead against yours as he continues to pump into you, his movements influenced by nothing more than pure adoration.
The sun bounces off your features, illuminating your face in such an ethereal way. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the way the light makes your eyes glow. You are angelic in every sense of the word. Someone too pure for this realm, unfathomably delicate; sent to this world to be worshiped and protected.
“I love you. So much,” he groans. Every ounce of devotion he has for you is being pumped into your body with every plunge. It’s overwhelming for him. He's nearly bursting at the seams as he makes love to you, moving his hips so tantalizingly slow, but wanting to thrust into you with fervor, to pound the message into you that you are deserving of all love in the world, and that he will be the one to give it to you. But he takes his time, wanting nothing more than to savor you. 
Small whimpers break through your throat. “I…ahh!– I love you, S-Suguru,” you moan, whining as his head brushes into your sweet spot, making your back arch off the bed as your chest presses into his. The pleasure raking through you is immeasurable, every neuron in your brain firing off at once. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every single part of him.
He cups the sides of your cheeks, brushing away your tears before placing two soft kisses over each eye. “Why’re you cryin’, my love?” he coos, concern evident on his face as he rubs his thumbs against your face. His hips pause as his eyes dart between yours. 
“Just…’m just so happy,” you whisper, scrunching your nose up with a small sniffle before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles deeply before returning to his original pace.
“You deserve it...just wanna make you feel good, baby,” his hips press him into the deepest parts of you, rubbing against your sweet, gushing walls, but his pace remains deliberate. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world,” his teeth grit ever so slightly as he feels you clench down on him. “F-fuck, baby… fuck. You are just... incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to keep brushing against your g spot.
Even though you’ve had each other many times before, no other instance compares to the way you feel right now. Your body brimming with love, fulfillment…with him. His touch makes you feel reborn, like no one has ever hurt you before. His hands glide across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, his unyielding passion evident in the way he clings to you, and you to him.
“Sugu…” you gasp as he bottoms out once more. Short pants leave your lips as you feel the tightness in your stomach intensify. “P-please, keep goin’...I’m…gonna cum,” you mewl. His hands reach underneath your body, palming each asscheek as he lifts your lower half off the bed. The new angle makes your eyes roll as stars begin to dance around your head. “Me too…y’feel so fuckin’ good.” The fiction of his pelvis against your clit shoots ripples of pleasure through you. Your nails drag down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail. This feels otherworldly. His pace picks up a bit, pushing you to unravel, your body succumbing to bliss. The warmth that engulfs his lengths makes him reach his peak right after you, his hips stuttering as he works you both through your orgasms.
He props himself up on his forearms, making a conscious effort to not collapse on you and crush you with his body weight, though you would most definitely welcome it. He watches as your chest rises and falls, every soft pant that leaves your lips like music to his yearning ears. He can’t bring himself to pull out, loving the way your walls are still spasming around him. You stare into his eyes for a moment, running your fingers down his spine. A gentle moment of silence settles between to two of you. No words are spoken, but they don't need to be. 
He begins to get up, but your legs lock around his waist immediately, resheathing him inside of you. “Baby–”, he begins to object, but your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, pulling him down as you kiss the spot below his ear, “Jus’ a few more minutes. Love having you like this.”
A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he smiles into the crook of your neck. “You keep this up and we might just have to go again.”
And you do. For hours and hours, attempting to make up for all the years wasted. Your two souls engaging in the most mesmerizing dance. He is determined to replace all the heartache you feel with pleasure. And he does. You feel nothing but him. And he can’t focus on anything other than you. Rolling around together until the golden hue of the setting sun shifts into a light pink as it rises above the horizon. But it feels like no time has passed at all. 
Suguru draws soft circles into your skin, holding you tight against his sweat-glistened chest. Your body trembles from the copious amount of pleasure coursing through you. A gentle peck is placed on the top of your head before he looks toward the ceiling. A sense of contentment washes over him, dancing with the soft pulse of his many orgasms still reverberating through his body. After years of waiting, you are finally his, and he is determined to grant you your well-deserved peace.
Dawning a robe, you sit on your balcony, listening to the birds sing you their habitual 'good morning'. The door slides open behind you, and Suguru takes a seat, presenting you with a cup of tea. A quiet thank you leaves your lips as the two of you take in the scenery before you. 
“We should probably get some sleep now, huh?” You ask, turning to him as you take a sip, smiling at the fact that he knows exactly how you take your tea. But, of course he does. It’s Suguru. 
He grins, “No…I don’t want to leave this moment behind just yet.” You blush, reaching your hand out to grasp his. 
“Me neither.”
In his eyes, you are precious, the most important person in his life. The deep-rooted fear of not being worthy of love is disproven in the form of Suguru’s undying loyalty to you. He has waited years to be with you, and he would have waited years more. And as the two of you sit together, with your fingers intertwined and heartbeats in sync, you know there is nowhere else you want to be…no one else you want to be with. An unfamiliar feeling of safety creeps into your chest. You’re in good hands now.
Maybe opening yourself back up to love wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.
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author notes: this fic is incredibly self-serving...but i really needed this. i just want a pretty boy named suguru to save me from the heartache i feel rn ugh
my reqs are closed at the moment, but thirsts and chats are always welcome !!
alsoooo !! i just wanted to send out a big big thank you for 700 followers...im literally in shock i cannot believe it. im spinning around my room rn just thinking abt it. yall are amazing n i appreciate every single one of you 🫶🏼
tag list: @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @sadmonke
likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated !!
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.
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lushaletta · 2 months
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the lamb and her wolf / tom riddle
pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader
content: muggleborn!reader, tom is goin a lil mad
summary: have you fallen into the dark lord’s trap, or has he fallen into yours?
a/n: i wrote this at 4 in the morning so enjoy this stream of consciousness grumpy x sunshine esque tom riddle fanfiction or something.
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⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
Tom is in a frenzy of sorts, he’s concluded.
Perhaps it is the sleepless nights and stressful days that cloud his weeks that are causing the weird feeling in his chest. Insomnia-induced hysteria.
There’s a flurry of thoughts swirling around his head recently. All with a common theme; you. The space in his brain that he typically reserved for Ancient Runes or Arithmancy was now composed of you, you, and only you.
It makes him sick to his stomach.
He’s unfocused. And he can’t be, because he’s supposed to be working on the secret that Salazar Slytherin hid in the deep crevices of Hogwarts some years ago.
His fingers tap on the book that he can’t seem to pay attention to as he tries to make sense of this. The disgusting, awful, pleasant fondness he feels for you. For a Muggleborn girl no less.
The only solution to his problem is to kill you. It wouldn’t be hard, he thinks. You’re small and meek and all too trusting of him. Like a lamb to the slaughter.
You are a symbol of everything he despises. Joy. Innocence. You are of the same kind as his worthless father. So why is it that he can’t bring himself to end you? To end your time together? He’s done it before. He’s done it plenty of times and without a second thought.
“Tom!” your horrible, beautiful voice cheers, snapping him out of his thoughts. Oh, great, he thinks. You plague his mind and now you bedevil his reality.
“Hello,” he says after a beat.
You ignore his bothered expression and smile. “I’ve brought snacks! You do like mince pie, don’t you?” He nods weakly. “Good, because my mam’s had some sent. She’s trying out a new recipe. Secret ingredient or something like that. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet, with your inane study habits, I mean, do you ever have breaks?” You ramble on and he listens with fascination. How could you be talking to him so casually? So endearingly?
You’re far from done. “It doesn’t matter, though. You’ll have a break now. Go on, put your book away, would you?” He does as told. He’s not sure why. You take a seat at his table, fumbling with the paper bag you’ve brought. “Aha! Mince pie! One for each of us. Tell me if you like it, I’ll have Mam send some more. She’d be delighted.”
It’s at this point, where he’s chewing on warm minced pie and watching you do the same, nodding contentedly, that he wonders which life decisions he’d made led up to this. He’s the Dark Lord. A name that the world will soon fear. If all goes to plan, you’ll be reading in terror of all the vile things he’s done in the paper. You’ll be afraid of him, and he can’t help dread it. He dreads the thought of your heartbroken eyes as you realise what a wicked person you’d extended your kindness to.
It’s the frenzy again. What is he even thinking? He dreaded nothing. He looked at his plans with excitement.
“Tom? Hellooo,” you say, singsongingly. He didn’t even realise you’d been speaking. He glances up at you and imagines what you’d think of him once the truth comes out.
“Yes?”
“What do you think? About the pie, I mean.”
He clears his throat, fingers gripping the armrest of his seat. “Good. It’s good.” That draws another pretty smile out of you and he really hates the way it made him feel. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome! Also, Tommy,” He quirks his brow. The nickname was a slip of the tongue. You’d never used it and it made you nervous, but he didn’t seem to mind so much. “Are you busy later? I need some help with Transfiguration.”
He’s always busy. Well, he should be. He’s been slacking recently, too preoccupied with your freshly baked desserts and strawberry-smelling hair.
“I could make time for that,” he says decidedly.
Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.
You’re immediately on your feet, giddy like how he’d imagine a child to be upon receiving candy. “Thank you! Oh, you’re a lifesaver, truly!” you say, and suddenly a kiss is planted on his cheek.
A full stop. His world pauses and spins on its axis. Your lips felt good. Bad.
What an evil, evil wolf he was.
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 9 months
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Beer and Bunny’s
(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)
Summary: Eddie can’t seem to get himself to make a move on the new bartender at the hideout he has a crush on, but one night you decide to take matters into your own hands and he sees something that he just can’t resist. Wk:4.5K
Warnings: 18+MINDI Smut (unprotected P in V), Oral (M & F), Eddie being a lil pervy but reader is into it, kind of inexperienced!Eddie (he’s really nervous and has a lot of self doubt. My head canon for this Eddie is that he’s been with a few girls but none of them were interested in more than a one night stand), no use of Y/N so pet names, and I think that’s it? The smut is kinda soft n sweet, nothing too crazy. Lmk if I missed any!!
A/N: So I was running errands wearing my black mini skirt and my pink bunny panties the other day and this idea came to me. It’s super self indulgent tbh, but in my mind Eddie would lose his shit over something like this and I’ll die on that hill. 🫡 Also I usually read through my shit obsessively but I only read through this once so if you see mistakes, no you didn’t. (Not really tho pls tell me so I can fix them bc typos make me crazy) My Masterlist
Eddie was in a trance, playing his guitar on autopilot as he watched you bus tables, make drinks, and occasionally indulge a customer’s flirting for extra tips. Not that you needed to, that dress and your sweet smile was enough to have any man dumping his wallet out and emptying his bank account for you. Or maybe that was just him.
He knew it wasn’t though, because even though his band was up there putting their hearts into playing for 15 people tops, most of their eyes followed you. Granted it was mostly drunk middle aged men besides Ruth, a 60 something year old woman who was always sitting in the same stool at the bar, drinking the same cheap vodka, with her red lipstick smudged on her teeth. But still, he’s convinced even if the room was filled with a hundred women you’d still be the prettiest one there.
You started working at the hideout a few months ago when you moved to town and ever since then it was like Eddie was possessed by you. He thought about you constantly, the way those cut up band tees always fit so perfectly and how your ass always looked in those tight little skirts has him fisting his cock sometimes twice a night. He wanted to record the way your voice sounded saying his name when you’d bring him his favorite beer after a show without him even asking and play it on a loop over and over again.
But that wasn’t all, he thought about little things like holding your hand, or going to the drive-in and watching horror movies with you. Or just kissing you, god, he wanted to kiss your pretty glossed lips.
The only issue was every time you talked to him it was like his brain turned to mush and everything he had practiced to say disappeared from his mind.
Tonight was different though. After their last song when you came to bring him his beer, you gave him that sweet smile and told him how awesome they did like you always do. But then it happened. You accidentally walked backwards into one of the small amps, tipping it backwards.
“Oh my god! I'm so sorry, shit!” You apologized before turning around to pick it up and when you did Eddie felt like he was about to cum in his pants.
You were wearing this tight little faux leather mini dress with a zipper that went all the way down the middle and these sexy calf high combat boots. But when you bent over he saw you were wearing the cutest pink panties that had little bunnies printed all over them and something about that combination made him absolutely feral.
He heard a whistle behind him and when he snapped his head around to see where it came from he saw one of the guys sitting at the table closest to the stage practically licking his lips while he ogled you. He instantly felt possessive and moved closer so he was standing a few inches behind you, blocking you from everyone else.
You pulled the amp up with a huff before turning around and nearly jumping out of your skin when you realized how close he was.
“Holy shit! You scared me!” You brought your hand to your chest and laughed. “I didn’t know you were so close.”
“Y-yeah I’m sorry, when you bent over, you could uh- see your panties and um… people were looking.” He turned beet red and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Oh, you’re so sweet Eddie, protecting my modesty.” You placed a hand on his forearm and caressed it with your thumb a few times before you stepped close enough to him to whisper in his ear. “Were you looking too?” You pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes through your lashes.
“I- I mean- fuck.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry… I know I shouldn’t have you were just standing right in front of me and then that guy whistled and-“
“Eddie!!” You squeezed his arm gently to get him to look at you and when he did you just wanted to kiss him. Those big brown eyes all filled with a mixture of lust and guilt were driving you crazy. “It’s okay… I want you to look.”
He’s pretty sure his brain just short circuited, you want him to look? What does that mean?
“I- you want me to- really?”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “You think I dress like this every time I work? Nope. Only on Tuesdays… just for you, Eds.”
“Shit. Really?” He looked at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the girl he’s been dreaming about is really standing here in a sexy little dress telling him that she wore it for him.
“Yeah.” You nodded and bit your lip. “I like how you look at me, it makes me… So. Wet.”
He threw his head back and groaned, he never thought you’d be so forward like this.
But he didn’t know that you had been waiting for him to make a move on you for weeks. You were tired of dancing around your obvious attraction to one another so you decided tonight you were going to take matters into your own hands.
“Shit sweetheart. You can’t just say things like that to me in public. You’re seriously going to make me bust in my pants. ”
“Well… don’t do that.” You giggled. “I know somewhere better that you can cum though…” You ran your hand down his arm and linked your hands together causing him to shiver. God, he was so responsive, you knew he liked you but apparently you didn’t know just how much.
“Fuck. Are you serious?”
“Deadly. You have a van, right? What’s the back like? Maybe you can show me.” You winked at him.
“Shit, yeah, I’d love to. But I have to put all this shit in the back and take it back to Gareth’s garage.” He looked so disappointed you just wanted to kiss his pouty pink lips.
“Hmmm… well, I live down the street. What if you drop off your stuff and meet me at my place after?” You suggested.
“GARETH! Take my van to your house, I’ll come get it later.” He turned to his drummer and threw him his keys.
“Dude. Seriously? You’re just going to leave us to pack up all this shit?”
His other band mate, who you think is named Jeff, looked between you and Eddie and put two and two together pretty quickly.
“We’ve got it man, have fun!” He wiggled his eyebrows at him before going back to packing up their equipment.
“Well, it looks like I’m all yours.” Eddie smiled at you nervously. God, he was just too cute.
“Looks like it, cutie. I’m off now, just gotta clock out. I usually walk so if you just wanna wait outside I’ll be right there.” You got on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before jumping off the stage and walking toward the back of the bar, making sure to swing your hips extra for him.
The walk back to your apartment was filled with easy conversation and stolen glances, hands grazing but not quite grasping onto each other. The air heavy with the tension of what was to come.
“This is me!” You gesture towards the front door of your apartment before unlocking it and letting him inside.
Eddie looked around as you turned on some lights, he saw some cool posters on the walls and a large bookshelf in the corner. But before he could take in too much of your world you walked over to him and put your arms around his neck.
“Hi.” You smiled at him with a glint in your eye.
“Hey.” He returned your smile with a crooked smirk, bringing his hands to rest on your hips.
You brought one of your hands to his jaw, cupping it and running your thumb along his cheek. “I really really want to kiss you right now.”
He didn’t respond, instead he pulled you closer by the hips and smashed his lips against yours. His lips felt just as you imagined, pillowy soft and just the tiniest bit chapped. He tasted like the beer you gave him, the cigarette he smoked on the walk, and something that was just him. You moaned into the kiss, shoving your hands into his hair, tugging slightly. He groaned when you licked along his bottom lip, allowing you access. He kissed you until your knees were weak and you were both breathless.
“You are so beautiful. Fuck. I can’t believe I’m here right now. This feels like a dream.” He ran his hands up your sides over your dress. “Also this fucking dress… Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah? You like it? It’s new.” You took a step back so you could do a twirl for him. “I thought about you when I bought it, you know…” you brought your finger to the o-ring at the top of the zipper and tugged on it a little.
“I thought about you dragging me to the dingy bar bathroom, shoving me up against the wall and ripping it off me.”
“Holy. Fuck. You’re naughty, huh?” He chuckled.
“Maybe, wanna find out?” You grab his hand and start walking backwards toward your bedroom, dragging him with you.
You plop down on your bed to take your boots off but before you can reach for the laces Eddie walks forward and takes your foot in his hand, unlacing your shoes for you. Once they’re loose enough he pulls them both off your feet and he’s pretty sure you aren’t real at this point.
Your socks are the same pink as your panties with cute little bunny ears at the top of the ankles. Your socks match your panties.
“Yeah, you like these too?” You wiggled your toes in front of his face and giggled while he looked at you and froze, his face turning bright red.
“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes, you did. Wanna know if my bra matches too?” You sit back on your hands and stick your chest out.
“Hell yeah I do.” He nodded dumbly.
“Why don’t you take my dress off and find out then, pretty boy.”
He didn’t hesitate to lean down and slip his finger into the o-ring zipper of your dress, slowly beginning to slide it down. When the tops of your breasts were exposed it became more and more clear that your bra didn’t match your panties because you weren’t fucking wearing one. He pulled the zipper down until it was just under the bottom of your tits and just as he thought, no bra. Your chest was on full display, slightly glistening with sweat from the material of your dress and he wanted to lick it off.
“Fuck, look at you… prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.” Not that he’d seen many but he’s pretty sure these are the best tits in the world regardless.
“You can touch them Eddie, I want you to.” You brought your hands up to squeeze them a few times before grabbing onto your nipples and twisting.
“Hold on, I’m appreciating the art before I destroy it.” He grabbed back onto your zipper and pulled it the rest of the way down so your dress was hanging open. You let the straps fall down your arms, leaving you in just those little panties and socks and he had never seen anything sexier. Your hair was a bit disheveled but still in the style you had done it in before you left for work earlier that night and your slightly smudged dark eye make-up contrasted with the soft pink of your garments. You stand up in front of him and play with the hem of his t-shirt.
“Take this off? I wanna see you too.”
He reaches behind his back to pull his shirt over his head and god damn. He has a few tattoos littered across his pale chest, his skin mostly smooth aside from his happy trail that you wanted to nuzzle your nose into on your way down to his cock.
“Wow. You are so sexy Eds.” You run your nails down his chest and torso, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and pulling his chest against yours. The feeling of your bare nipples pressed up against his warm skin sent shivers down your spine.
“Yeah? You think so? I think you’re the sexiest girl in the world.” He blushed.
“Thank you baby, can I take these off?” You pull on his belt loops with your fingers, running your thumbs along his soft waist.
“Please”
That’s all you needed to hear before you were on your knees in front of him, undoing his pants and pulling them down with his boxers.
“Holy shit Eddie…” Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of him fully bare in front of you. “You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to taste it.” And you meant it, his cock was fucking huge, the hard tip leaking just for you.
He was speechless, looking down at you on your knees in front of him with wide eyes.
You lean forward and run your tongue along his slit, holding eye contact with him while you take his tip in your mouth, suckling on it a few times before taking him deep in your throat.
“Oh fuuuuckkk holy shit.” He brought his hand to the back of your head and rested it there gently, letting you set your own pace.
But it was too gentle. You didn’t want him to hold back.
“Eddie.” You pulled your mouth off him with a pop and a string of saliva. “Use me, pull my hair, fuck my mouth, don’t be shy.”
“Holy shit. Are you- are you sure?” He was panting, looking down at you like you just told him he won the lottery.
“I’m so fucking sure, so so sure. If I don’t like something I’ll tell you baby. I promise, I like it rough.”
You spit in your hand, grabbing onto his cock and tugging it a few times before looking up at him with your tongue out.
He was still looking down at you with those big shiny doe eyes and you were about to lose it if he didn’t do something. Your other hand grabs onto his, guiding it to your hair and signaling for him to grab onto it. It took his mind a second to catch up but when he did it was like something snapped in him.
He grabbed onto your hair hard and slid his cock along the length of your tongue, hitting the back of your throat.
“Close your mouth- yeah, like that.” Once your lips were wrapped around him he started to slowly rock back and forth in your mouth, testing you by going deeper with each thrust.
After a few times of him hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag he realized you liked it. Your eyes were watery, mascara starting to run down your cheeks, drool was dripping down your chin and you were fucking moaning around him like you were getting as much pleasure out of this as he was.
He was fully fucking your mouth now, pumping his cock down your throat while he cursed and moaned, using you just like you wanted. You reach your hand up to grab onto his drool slick balls and take them in your palm causing him to jerk forward and let out the sexiest moan yet.
“FUCKING SHIT!” He used your hair to pull you off of him and you look up at him with hooded eyes, a mixture of his precum and your drool dripping down your chin and he has to physically will himself not to cum at the sight. “ If you keep that up I’m going to cum in the next thirty seconds and I was really hoping I’d get to fuck you.”
“What? You don’t wanna cum twice? We have all night, unless you’re busy then I guess you can stop.” You said dramatically, in a way that he would’ve stopped to find really cute if he wasn’t so fucking turned on right now.
He practically growled as he grabbed back onto your hair and resumed his assault on your throat. One of your hands finds its way back to his balls while the other snakes around him to grab a handful of his ass for leverage.
“F-fuck this mouth is so fuckin- You’re such a good girl fuckin droolin all over, grabbin my balls while I use your little mouth. Wearing those little fuckin panties and socks. Fuck!” His grip on your hair tightened and his hips sputtered as you felt him explode in your mouth. You swallowed around him, moaning at his taste and taking all that he gave you.
He released his hold on your hair and you pulled your mouth off of him, bringing your pointer finger to the corner of your mouth to swipe the cum that dripped there into your mouth.
“Mmmm, you taste so good Eddie.” You smiled up at him, still on your knees.
“Yeah? I bet you taste even better.”
“Wanna find out?” You smirked at him, getting to your feet and laying back on the bed.
“Fuuuuuck” Eddie groaned at the sight of you laying there for him with your legs spread, a very prominent wet patch in those fucking panties, your hands grabbing on to your tits while your fingers pinch your nipples. You looked like the only meal he wanted to eat for the rest of his life. He got on the bed on his knees between your legs, smashing his lips to yours and kissing you like his life depended on it. He slid his tongue along your bottom lip and you immediately granted him access. He tasted himself on your tongue and it caused him to moan into the kiss.
He kissed down your jaw to your neck, running his tongue along the column of your throat, stopping just behind your ear at your pulse point to suck a mark there. He kissed and licked and sucked all the way down your body, stopping to pay your nipples extra attention.
When he reached the band of your panties he licked across your waist and nipped at your hips causing you to let out breathy little moans. He placed a kiss on each of your hip bones before placing one right on the top of your mound, looking up at you with those fucking eyes.
“Mmm baby, I can smell you.” He groaned as he breathed in your scent, flicking his tongue out to run it along your cloth covered slit, adding extra pressure to your clit. He wraps his lips around your bud, swirling his tongue, and even with the small barrier between you it still makes you see stars. He licks all around your cunt, soaking your already wet underwear as he laps at it. Finally he brings his finger to your panties to move them to the side and you barely even have time to process before he’s shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out.
“Oh f-fuck! Yes Eddie fuck!” Your hands come down and tangle into his hair, tugging it and causing him to groan into your pussy, the vibrations going through you like a shockwave.
His tongue came back up your bud, rotating between rough and soft flicks. His pointer and ring finger circle your hole before he inserts them both fully without resistance. He pumps them in and out of you, the room filled with the sounds of your moans and wetness as he laps at you. He sucks harder on your clit just as he curls his fingers just right and you see stars. Your grip on his hair tightened as your hips rocked against his face, his name on your lips like a prayer, riding out your high until it becomes too much and you’re pushing his head off of you.
He looks up at you with your jucies still running down his chin and fucking smiles.
“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”
“Yeah? And have you tasted a lot of pussys, Mr. Munson?” You tease.
“I mean-“ Suddenly his face flushes red and that shy nervous boy from earlier was back “Not… that many, a few. I’m no lady killer or anything I mean you know this town is I-“
You grab his face in both of your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips.
“Honey, I was just teasing, I don’t care how many girls you’ve been with, I wouldn't even care if you hadn’t been with any.”
You smiled at him sweetly, pushing his bangs off his forehead and he smiled back, kissing you deeply. There was something so comforting about you to him, he felt like he could truly be himself with you and he’s not sure he’s felt that when he was with a woman ever.
You sit up and push him down by his shoulders, swinging your leg over to straddle him. Your underwear were still pushed to the side, your slick pussy lips were nestled on either side of his shaft as you slid back and forth on him with ease.
“I can’t wait to feel this pretty cock splitting me open.” You leaned forward and slid your fingers in the band of your underwear to take them off but Eddie’s hands came down on yours, stopping you.
“Can you keep them on?” His eyes were pleading, his lips pouty.
“Anything for you, sweet boy. You really like these huh?” You giggled.
“The whole cute pink panties and socks underneath the black leather thing is really doing it for me, if you couldn’t tell.” He bit his lip, running his hands down your sides before bringing them to your tits to squeeze them roughly.
You giggled as you rose up to your knees, taking him in your hand so you could line him up with your entrance and sink down on him slowly. Once your hips were flush against his you both moaned loudly.
“Fuck, so big, filling me up so good Eds.” You rocked back and forth slightly, just adjusting to the feeling of him so deep inside you. Once you felt adjusted you rose almost all the way off his cock before slamming back down on it causing him to jerk forward and moan out your name.
“Holy fuckin shit, your pussy is suckin me in so good holy fu-fuck, ridin me s-so good baby.” And you were, you were riding him like your life depended on it. “Bouncin on my cock just like those little bunnies on your panties, is that what you are? A lil bunny?”
That snapped something inside you, it was like he said the magic words and nothing else mattered in that moment besides riding his cock, being his little bunny.
You were on your heels now, using his shoulders for leverage as you bounced on his cock. Rotating and rolling your hips, the patch of curly brown hair at his base rubbing against your clit just right.
Eddie was in Heaven, he wanted to throw his head back and shut his eyes but he couldn’t tear them off of you. You were bouncing on his cock like a rabbit in heat. A layer of sweat glistened on your body, your hair a mess, there was a bit of drool dripping down your chin and your pussy was swallowing him hole over and over again, you were so wet he could see a milky white ring of your cum on his cock. He was going to cum soon but he absolutely needed you to before he did.
His grip on your hips tightened causing your movements to halt, but before you could even protest he was fucking up into you hard and fast.
“Oh fuuuuck yes, just like that baby, right fuckin there don’t fuckin stop I’m so close.” That’s all Eddie needed to hear, he brought one of his thumbs down to your slick clit and started rubbing fast circles on it while he continued to fuck up into you at a brutal pace.
“Shit, me too bunny, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”
“Inside! Inside please Eddie I want you to fill me up.”
“Oh godddd” He let out a guttural groan, throwing his head back while he pumped his cum deep inside of you. The feeling sent you over the edge, coming undone on his cock while he continued to sloppily fuck you both through your highs.
You sighed, and exhaustedly let your body slump over Eddie’s while you both tried to catch your breath.
“Holy. Shit. That was… wow” he chuckled, running his hands up and down your back.
“Yeah, it really was.” You giggled as you rolled off of him, laying on your side next to him and resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. He was so pretty, his hair disheveled, his skin flushed and decorated in your nail marks, his lips swollen with your kisses. He smiled at you sweetly, shifting around so he could hold you better, he finally got a glimpse of your room.
He didn’t even really look at it when you walked it, he obviously noticed that you had a black open canopy on your four post bed but what he didn’t notice was the cute stuffed animals that were sitting by your black silk pillows, or the cool ass horror movie posters on the walls that contrasted that completely. You noticed him looking around, his eyes filled with awe, like he was genuinely interested in your world and it warmed your heart.
“I like your room, you really have this whole creepy cute thing down to a science don’t you?” He smiled at you, cradling your jaw in his hand and you leaned into it.
“Mhm, I guess I do.” You returned his smile with your own sleepy one, yawning. “You wanna stay the night? You don’t have to if you don’t want to but-“
“I want to.” Eddie cut you off, it was his turn to reassure you. You had seemed so sure of yourself all night but when it came down to if he was going to leave or not he could tell it made you nervous, like maybe people didn’t usually want to stay with you after and that broke him a little. Who wouldn’t want to stay with you? You’re perfect. To him at least. “I want to stay, and I want to take you to breakfast in the morning. I also would really like to take you on a proper date, if that’s something you’d want to do.”
Your heart swelled, because you did want that, more than he knew.
“I’d love that actually.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
You both giggled and kissed each other sweetly, whispering jokes and sweet nothings into each others ears until sleep peacefully took over.
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leascorner · 4 months
Text
b.b. | Emergency contact
Summary: “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
Pairing:  Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of multiple accidents, mention of break-up, probably inexact medical and american army facts, deaths, grief, mention of trauma/PTSD, mention of food
Word Count: 4.7k
Author note: y/n = your name; y/s/n = your sister's name. Enjoy!
Masterlist
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Maverick saw her first.
Hair all over her face. Cloudy eyes. Blank cheeks. Y/N looked even worse than what he had thought and considering the situation, that was perhaps to be expected. He could only imagine the call she had gotten when maybe she was on her way home after work. The kind of call that just say, “your loved one is at the hospital”. They could be dead already. They could be alive for now, but dead before she’d make it there…
Maverick did not know her personally. He knew, however, who she was and who she had been to Bradley. He had heard what had happened at that time; even if his godson had not gone into much details - he wasn’t exactly one to confide about his love life. Being aware of her story, he felt like this moment would be exactly like any of his own PTSD - reliving your worst nightmare. He had known from the moment the nurse had told him he was not family - Y/N was - that whenever she would show up, he needed to be there for her.
Getting up from the seat in which he had been waiting for some times now, he called out her name. Her eyes scanned the whole room before landing on him. She had never seen him other than in Bradley’s old photobooks, but she recognized him immediately. Though Maverick was now a couple of years older, he looked as in the pictures. It relieved her to see him there; it was partly because he did not look like someone who was going to have to bury his godson any time soon. Of course, it also startled her. The last time she had talked to Bradley, many (many) years ago, his resentment against Maverick was consuming him. She guessed they had finally worked things out.
“We were testing new materials,” Maverick explained as he sat her up in the seat next to his. Though her cheeks were slowly regaining colour, she was still trembling like the leaves of a tree caught in the wind. Perhaps it was being in this ER room again, in the exact same hospital, after all this time. Perhaps it was also the adrenaline wearing off. “Bradley’s jet had an issue and he had to extract. He landed quite roughly though. His left leg is pretty messed up.”
Y/N stayed silent, staring at him, and Maverick let her be. Of course, she had imagined him to be dead. Though she had just heard the contrary, her brain took a couple of seconds to work everything out. “So, he will be alright?”
He nodded slowly and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was selfishly relieved. She wouldn’t have to decide on the last clothes he would wear. She wouldn’t have to be handed his flag and colors. She wouldn’t have to watch his coffin buried six feet deep. She wouldn’t have to read over and over that stupid phrase written in the marble of this grave. She wouldn’t have to get through this again.
She had done that too much for her own lifetime already.
“Doctor, this is Miss Y/L/N”.
Maverick’s hand on her shoulder made Y/N surface out of her thoughts. She was quick to hop onto her feet and greet the surgeon that had just joined them with a nod. She braced herself for whatever news he had to give - couldn’t be that bad, Bradley was alive after all - and when it didn’t come, she presumed from his look that he was silently waiting for Maverick to go. She understood now that she was the only one listed as his emergency contact.
“He can stay, he is family.”
The surgeon nodded and started to explain in a more complex manner what Maverick had already told her before. Bradley would be immobilised for a couple of weeks, waiting for the bruise in his knee to resolve before he could undergo surgery. After that he would still need to have Physical Therapy before being cleared.
“How long until- how long ‘till he can go back to flying?” Y/N asked, nervously.
“A few months, six at most.” At her side, it was Maverick’s time to let out a shaky breath. He already knew it was going to be difficult to keep Bradley off the tarmac for this long. “He is awake now, if you want to visit.”
After they thanked him, Y/N heard Maverick turning to her - only a few seconds away to say what she assumed to be a “you go first” - and she stayed frozen on her spot, not able to make a move as she finally understood she could be seeing Bradley again – it had never crossed her mind before. There was no way she was facing a very much alive Bradley today. Not today, nor any time soon.
“You go, I’ll handle the paperwork.”
Maverick knew better than to say a thing; he only nodded, thanking her quietly. He knew she would most likely be gone when he would be back. He didn’t blame her though.
This was just a tragic story.
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Bradley saw her first.
He had been at the beach near Penny’s bar probably a thousand times since he last spoke to her, all these years ago. Yet, never had he seen her there.
Watching her, sat on an enormous beach towel, watching Henry - or at least he guessed it was Henry - playing in the sand a few feet away, he could only feel guilty for what he had put her through a month ago. The call from the military hospital, the minimal information given, the drive alone, fear clenching her stomach, the parking lot where she could’ve vomited her gut out, the hospital smell. It must have been like reliving her worst nightmare. Except this time there was no tragic ending...
He had changed his emergency contact as soon as the painkiller had permitted him to think straight. To be honest, after all those years, he had forgotten she was even mentioned in his file. They had never been married and therefore had never been officially together for the Navy. He really thought no one was his emergency contact; it only felt natural having no family of his own. No parent. No wife. No kid. Now, he only had his godfather - they had reconnected a couple of years ago.
He was only relieved this had happened when Maverick was here, that someone was able to be by her side and that this time, she didn’t have to live it all alone.
Though he wanted to, Bradley did not go and apologize. He imposed so much on her already. Breaking her heart. Letting her go. Probably scaring the hell out of her. No, he definitely had done enough already.
He was mentally wishing her all the best from afar, ready to turn back to the bar, when the little boy at her side made his heart stopped. One of his tiny fingers was pointing in his direction and it took only what seemed to be a second for Y/N to turn around as well, her eyes landing on him. Against all odds, she waved shyly in his direction, which made Henry - who he had only met when he was still a couple of days old - waved at him as well.
Awkwardly, Bradley waved back and decided that at this point, he couldn’t just turn around and leave. The walk to their spot was pure torture with his messed-up knee for which he had yet to undergo surgery.
“You are the guy in the wedding picture in the hallway,” Henry said once Bradley was to their level. Bradley frowned, not sure what to answer to this. Of course, he understood he was talking about Y/S/N’s wedding, though he didn’t quite understand how this little guy would have recognized him in the hundred guests that must appear on the pictures.
“There is a picture in the hallway,” Y/N simply answered, before explaining to Henry that the polite way to greet someone was to say hello first.
Bradley only nodded, preferring to stay silent as he wasn’t really sure what to say now that he was there.
“How is your knee?”
“Well, could be better, I guess?” Bradley shrugged and Y/N nodded, a serious expression on her face. He hadn’t been in the best of mood due to his injury, and he realized too late this tone wasn’t the friendliest. To make sure she didn’t take it personally, he was quick to continue: “I wanted to say-”
“It’s okay,” She cut him off; she couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, yet she wanted to spare them both the struggle of his thanks. She hadn’t done him a favour running to his side at the first call. In fact, she hadn’t really thought anything, coming running blindly to the hospital as the nurse on the phone told her he had an accident. Maybe it was selfish of her, maybe this time she had thought she could save someone she knew.
“No, I don’t think it really is…” He sighed. “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
“Thanks.”
Some more silence.
Bradley’s hands had become even sweatier, and it wasn’t due to the weather of the first days of spring. This whole situation was literally making him so uncomfortable. It was like walking on eggshell; he didn’t want to break her even more.
“I very am sorry.”
Bradley wasn’t sure what he was really sorry for. This wasn’t just for the scare, last month. It was also for breaking her heart, leaving her the second he had his dream job - like they couldn’t have made it work, not being around when Y/S/N and her husband died in that horrible car crash, him only sending flowers for the funerals, him not calling to make sure Y/N was surviving - how could he have, when he was the one leaving her to live his dream life and she was now the legal guardian of her six-months-old nephew at thirty something.
Y/N only stared at him, trying to see through him like she used to. He was sincere - she knew that much.
“I know.”
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It had been a little more than three months when Bradley saw her again.
He had just completed yet another session of physical therapy; though it had been ten weeks since he had surgery and he didn’t need crutches to walk any longer, he still had not recovered the totally of his knee motion. Maverick was driving him twice a week to the military hospital to have PT; with his messed up left knee, Bradley couldn’t drive his manual Bronco.
While he was patiently waiting for the secretary to hung up the phone to get his next appointment scheduled, his eyes landed on a familiar face in the ER waiting room. She was here yet again, eyes puffy and red, breathe short and hair all over the place.
“Y/N?”
Hearing her name, she jumped from her seat, all senses on alert. Her eyes scanned the room urgently before stopping on Bradley. Understanding it was him calling her name, the tears she was holding back started flowing on her cheeks again. His heart started to pound furiously in his chest as the only thought that passed his mind was that something terrible had happened. Again.
“Hey, hey,” he said once he had walked - not so easily - to her. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his white T-shirt. She was grabbing him as if he was a lifebuoy. “What happened?”
As her only answer, her body broke into violent sobs. Bradley kept her close, stroking her hair gently, trying to soothe. It took what seemed to be like a couple of minutes for her to at least remember to breath and a couple more for her to be able to speak multiple words in a row. This time, Bradley held her through it all.
“Henry fell down the swing and the school called and- and-” Some more sobs rocked her body and Bradley only held her tighter, heart swelling of seeing her in this state. She must have had the scare of her life. Again.
“It’s okay,” Bradley reassured her. “Is he with a doctor now?”
She nodded, more tears falling down her cheeks. “He has a bad cut on his forehead,” sob, “needed stitches,” sob, “I couldn’t - I couldn’t” stay with him, Bradley understood even if she didn’t finish her sentence. “Shouldn’t see me like that.”
“It’s okay.”
Y/N was still grabbing his T-shirt like she would drown had she ever let go, so he held her a little more, wondering how long she had been in the ER waiting room, clearly in utter panic.
“Breathe with me,” he said. She looked up at him and gently, he dried off her tears. For one split second, he was brought back to that night, what felt like a hundred of years ago. He had promised her everything would be okay. How wrong had he been…
If anything, this was a very bad remake of their break-up.
“He is okay now, more fear than harm.” Y/N nodded, trying to gain back her composure. “You know, somebody told me one day that scars actually made you look pretty badass,” he pointed to his own scars on his chin and cheeks. “It will be a hit with girls and boys for sure.”
“I don’t remember saying that,” she finally smiled. There she is, he thought.
“Miss Y/L/N?” Y/N let go of him to turn to the doctor he understood was taking care of Henry. “We are all done. A nurse is doing his bandage right now. It will need to be redone once a day for a week and we’ll see him again in ten days to remove his stitches.”
Y/N squeezed the hand Bradley didn’t realize she was holding. She was relieved and still, she did not move when the doctor went away.
“You’ve got an automatic, right?” This made Y/N turned back to Bradley in surprise. He had that small smirk on his lips that she could recognize anywhere. The one that he offered when he had a surprise for her. Whatever it was a bath after an extremely long day or to watch Love Actually for the second night in a row when she was on her period. All she had to do back then was to follow his lead, she knew he would take care of her. The truth was, she would have followed him anywhere.
And even after all those years, she still trusted him.
“You do the paperwork, I’ll get him?” Y/N nodded slightly, muttering a quiet thank you. After yet another nod to make sure she was okay, Bradley finally let go of her hand and went to get Henry. On his way, he texted Mav to let him know he did not require a lift up from the hospital anymore. Something had come up, but he’ll explain later.
When Bradley entered the examination room, Henry was sat down on the examination table and a nurse was just finishing to put the last blaster on his forehead.
“Hey buddy!” Henry’s eyes face lifted up seeing Bradley on the doorstep, unfazed it was him rather than her aunt who went to get him. “A little birdie told me ice-cream would make it all better.”
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“Bradley!”
Against all will, the ice-cream little “date” had become a recurrent event now. It started ten days later when Henry had his stitches gotten taken out - Y/N asked if she could pick him up after PT to return him the favour. Then, it was a week or so later, for the end of the school year. Then again, on regular occurrence during the summer - sometimes with their friends and family. Some other times, just the three of them.
Today was the first day of the new school year, Henry’s first day of 1st grade. It also was six months now that Bradley had been in contact again with Y/N. Still a couple of weeks until he could get cleared for flying again. A couple of weeks until he would be deployed somewhere on this planet.
And Bradley, picking up Henry from school with ice-cream for celebration, wasn’t really sure how to feel about it; he had decided to elude the matter for now.
“Hey buddy!”
Bradley watched the little guy through his reversing mirror to make sure he was putting his seatbelt on before driving off. He and Y/N had planned to meet up at the beach, once she would have finished work.
On the way there, Henry told him all about Mrs Simpson, his new teacher; how he got lucky to be paired with his best friend, Tom in the class room, and how sure he was that, by Christmas, he would be able to read so they could share reading of his bedtime stories: “You’ll read Daddy Pig’ part and I’ll read Peppa Pig’ part, okay?”
Yes, after all, Bradley definitively did not want to think of his future deployment; he would rather just stay here, in this moment in times.
After taking a swim and perfecting Henry’s swimming techniques (Bradley had taught him how to swim during the summer in between two ice-cream dates), Bradley and Henry were in the middle of sandcastles building contest when Y/N finally arrived.
Bradley sat on the beach towel, Y/N at his side, as Henry excitingly told them about his day and most importantly, all the painting materials they had in his class and that he couldn’t wait to test. The sun was starting to decline in the distance, bathing them in its last warm sunshine. A soft breeze was tenderly blowing his hair. Y/N, with Henry on her knees, was sharing a story of her sister’s first day of ‘big girl’ school and her nephew had a million questions about his mom.
Like every time the subject was brought up in his presence, Bradley tried to add as much details as he remembered of Y/S/N. It was some of his best childhood memories after his dad died: Maverick and his mom making sure his dad’s memory was still alive. He hoped it would be the same for Henry.
“You know what our family tradition was to celebrate the first day of school year?” Henry shook his head no. “Pizza night!”
Bradley laughed as the boy’s face lighted up; he was quick to be on his feet and gather his stuff to get back to the car - it was probably the first time ever Henry would agree to leave the beach without making a fuss.
Y/N helped Bradley to get up - even if he had told her multiple times before that his knee was perfectly fine, she had still treated him as if he would fall down any time. He was attending his last physical therapy sessions by now and he had already started physical training at the base. In a few weeks, he would have to have a medical examination to confirm he could fly again; his accident was well behind him at this point.
Folding the beach towel together, Y/N took this as the opportunity to thank him again for picking up Henry that day.
“My pleasure,” Bradley had assured her.
“Seriously, I owe you big time. I couldn’t see myself putting him in afterschool for his first day.”
For a split second, Bradley saw on her face an expression he knew by heart but couldn’t quite recall what it was; the next second, she was continuing to file her bag with Henry’s beach toys. It took a moment more to Bradley to understand what he had just seen: guilt. The same guilt he had observed in his mom eyes when there were things he asked, and she couldn’t simply offer him as a single mom.
“I don’t know if you are being told that enough but Y/N,” He gently grabbed her wrist to make her stop filling her bag and look back at him. “You are doing more than good with Henry.”
“I am trying my best.”
“And you are doing good,” he assured her again, squeezing her hand in his. Realizing what he had just done, he grimaced slightly but Y/N was quick to reassure him and squeezing his hand in return. “Let’s go.”
Later that afternoon, they were sat down at Pizzeria Luigi, waiting for their pizza. Bradley and Henry were having a funny face contest - Bradley copiously winning despite all the kid’s efforts. Y/N was laughing along with them, the small intimacy moment they shared before was long forgotten.
“That’s a cute family you got there,” the waitress smiled as she put their pizza on the table.
“Oh, we are not-” Bradley started, but was quick to be cut by Y/N saying:
“Thanks!”
While Y/N exchanged a few more banalities with the waitress, Bradley looked at her, utterly touched she would consider him family. He was incredibly lucky she even accepted him in his life again, after how much he had hurt her. On the restaurant terrace, surrounded by the last rays of the summer sun, she looked so happy. When she looked at him with her big sparkly eyes and the biggest smile on her lips, his own heart swelled of happiness.
And he swore he could have kissed her. Right here, right now.
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“Henry, can you go wash your hands please? Dinner is almost-” Y/N passed a head through the kitchen door framing, looking what Henry was doing in the entrance corridor. “Bradley?”
“Hi,” he greeted her quietly from the doorstep, Henry by his side the doorknob still in his hand.
Bradley stayed silent, not moving, and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Y/N’s. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come over - he was more and more these past weeks, but he was usually texting first to confirm he wasn’t imposing on them. Him showing up unannounced, at that time of the night, was odd.
“Your hands, please.” The kid passed in front of her on his way to the bathroom and Y/N waited for him to be gone before turning back to Bradley.
He was looking at a picture hooked up on the hall wall. The picture of his sister’s wedding on which her sister, her husband, Bradley and she were all smiling. It has been taken a few weeks before he was accepted into the academy. A few months before her whole world crashed down. He had walked by a multitude of times before, yet today he couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“Bradley?”
Bradley’s attention finally went back to her, a look on his face Y/N couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t the apologetic look he had worn when he broke up with her. It wasn’t the mask of fury she had seen on his face when he had explained to her one night that his US Naval Academy application had been rejected, by Mav out of all people. It wasn’t either the naturally serious face he would most often wear, nor the sly smirk she had seen on his lips so many times.
His stare was even darker than usual and heavy on her. She couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to say if he wasn’t using words. One thing she had learned with Bradley was to not rush him and let him come to her.
“We were about to eat, mind to join us?” She asked instead of the millions of questions in her head.
He only nodded, not speaking a word. Y/N took another look at him before heading back to the kitchen.
They stayed silent for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, waiting for Henry to come back from the bathroom. Knowing the kid, with the times he was taking, he was probably making a mess with the soap in there, but none of them went checking on him.
Y/N was watching the vegetables cooking and Bradley was leaned against the kitchen sink unit, deeply in his thoughts, arms crossed over the short-sleeve shirt he still wore even if it was already late October.
“I’ve been cleared.”
Y/N was surprised by the tone of his voice - if there was only one thing for which Bradley was living, it would be flying. “Is that… a bad thing?”
Bradley sighed, passing a hand on his face. He had only received the news about an hour ago and the first thing he had done was to drive to Y/N’s place. He had tried so hard not to think about this moment and what he would do - as if he had any other option than just to follow the orders. Now that the moment had come, it didn’t feel right with him.
“I-” another sigh, “these last months, I just realized what I could have had if-”
If he hadn’t felt like he had to do it on his own.
If he hadn’t been too scared of hurting her.
All those moments he shared with Y/N and Henry over the last few months had made him realized that his own fear - of hurting the people he loved and especially leaving them behind - had prevented him to live some beautiful moments. He had self-sabotaged himself, breaking off with Y/N so he could be sure she wasn’t hurt by his choices - ironically enough. He had shut her off, convincing himself somehow that he was doing the right thing for the both of them - and how wrong had he been, those last few months had proven him.
“Do you remember what you told me when you broke up with me?” Y/N asked suddenly, making Bradley look back at her. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had said besides ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’. When he thought about that night, he could only remember her tears, her hands grabbing his shirt and not wanting to let go of him. She had fought for them, so hard, but he had already made up his mind.
He shook his head no as Y/N moved closer.
"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can come together,” Y/N reeled out quietly as if she had re-lived this scene over and over again in her head.
Bradley laughed bitterly, “I overdid myself on that one, didn’t I.”
Y/N wasn’t laughing. She was staring at him, this determined look on her face. Like she had waited for this moment for a while now. “I do think that is true, somehow,” Y/N smiled softly.
She had thought about this a lot over the last few weeks - it wasn’t just only her now, she was also responsible for Henry. It wasn’t her intention falling back in love with him, after Bradley got back in her life. She had been pleased to find in him a friend, a friend that had rekindled a flame inside her with his sly grin and attention. She felt more alive than ever. He made her feel so… whole.
Heart pounding, Bradley watched her intensely. There were unspoken words in the air, words neither of them wanted to stay out loud, too afraid it would break the spell. He knew looking at her now that they were on the same page. He knew he could let go of his fear; whatever life had in store for them would always be worth it.
They could have stayed like this forever. But Y/N couldn’t let her chance pass.
Without warning, she kissed him. If he hadn’t been leaned against the unit, Bradley would have fallen backwards from the feeling of her lips on his, how his hands found her hips by instinct to bring her closer to him, and how he could feel the warmth radiating off her. It was like in his best memories, and just like it had always have been: two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.
“What does that mean?” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers. He needed her to say it.
“That, perhaps, you could add me back as your emergency contact?”
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