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tainsan · 6 months

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opposites attract.

↳synopsis: you are on the verge of being expelled, so your teacher helps you find a tutor, yet what you weren't expecting was much more than just tutoring sessions.

↳ word count: 14.3k

↳ a/n: i know this isnt misfits or misfits related but i wanted to give you guys something whilst you wait for the next chapter. i havent been active due to a majot burnout, but im getting into the swing of it again. I hope you enjoy this one shot whilst you wait for the next chapter <3

↳ warnings: fem bodied reader, mentions of alcohol, explicit smut, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected sex (wrap it pls), gn pronouns but Yunho calls reader a good girl.

MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT AHEAD

"Expelled, what do you mean?" you exclaim, the words of your professor hitting you like a sudden, unwelcome storm.

Your professor leans forward, her expression grave. "If you don’t make a change," she replies, her tone weighted with concern. "Your recent academic performance has been far from ideal, and it's no secret that you'd rather be out partying and socialising than studying. I've tried to advocate for you for the past few months, but even the student council is beginning to lose faith. You need to make a change, or else they will remove you from this program."

The news leaves you feeling torn. You have always been drawn to the vibrant social scene on campus, and it was no secret that you enjoy a good party. Balancing your studies with your social life has been a constant struggle, and it has finally caught up with you in the form of this dire warning.

Taking a deep breath, you try to gather your thoughts, your mind a whirlwind of confusion. "I don't know what to do, though," you admit, your voice tinged with both desperation and uncertainty.

Professor Turner fixes her gaze on you, her expression stern yet caring. Her half-moon glasses perch on the edge of her nose lends an air of wisdom to her appearance. She had always been one of the few teachers who genuinely believed in your potential, even if you hadn't quite lived up to it yet.

She leans forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours. "You can start by addressing that persistent partying issue," she says, her tone deadpan but not without a hint of exasperation. "I've always seen your talent, but it's time for you to believe in it too. My patience for you is wearing thin, and the threat of expulsion is very real. You need to get your studies together, and fast."

Her words strike a chord, and bow your head down, tears starting to form in your eyes. The urgency of the situation finally sinks in, and you know it is time to make a change.

Professor Turner's expression softens, and she leans back in her chair, understanding the turmoil in your eyes. "I know it can be challenging to balance both, but it's essential. Perhaps you can establish a more structured study schedule and limit your social activities during the week.”

Looking up at her, you notice the warmth and unwavering belief in her eyes, which provides a glimmer of hope amidst your uncertainty.

She continues, "In fact, I found a tutor for you. Someone had to cancel on him at the last minute, and he's willing to take you on until your grades improve. He’s an incredibly sweet person, his grades are the best in my class."

Although you would rather avoid any study sessions or anything to do with your university academics, you reluctantly take the paper showcasing the number of the tutor your professor found for you. The paper displays the name "Jeong Yunho" along with his contact number. You have never heard of him before, which was unusual considering you considered yourself as a social butterfly who knew nearly everyone on campus. It occurred to you that there truly was a first time for everything.

As you held the paper, a sense of curiosity overcame your reluctance. You pondered the mystery behind this unknown tutor and wondered what kind of person Jeong Yunho was.

—

Clutching your bag tightly under your arm, you reluctantly made your way towards the library on a Friday evening. With every step, you grumbled to yourself, yearning to be at a lively party instead, drowning your sorrows about the looming threat of expulsion. The future seemed bleak, and hope was a distant memory. When you left Professor Turner's office earlier, you almost crumpled the paper she had given you, fully intent on disregarding any contact with whoever the hell Yunho is.

The journey to the library is slow, partly because you have never set foot in the place before, and partly due to your resistance against the impending academic endeavour. You had never planned on being a library regular; it wasn't part of your college vision. Yet, the harsh reality of the potential consequences weigh heavily on your mind. Losing your education at this point would not only set you back years but also jeopardise all the hard work you have invested to even make it to this esteemed school in the first place.

With every reluctant step, you can’t help but reflect on the choices that have led you here. It was time to face the music, find this enigmatic Yunho, and see if, against all odds, he held the key to salvaging your academic future.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors of the university library, you're immediately greeted by the familiar scent of aged books and hushed whispers. The soft lighting casts a warm glow over the rows of shelves filled with knowledge, and you can't help but feel out of place in this quiet atmosphere. You've rarely ventured into this sanctuary of academia, and your lack of familiarity is evident as you scan the cavernous space, unsure of where to start

Stepping further into the library, your frustration and reluctance grow. You have little idea of who you're even looking for. The notion that Yunho might be some stereotypical "nerd-looking" guy briefly crosses your mind, and you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for the shallow assumption.

After several minutes of wandering the labyrinthine aisles, you find yourself standing in the centre of the library, defeated and ready to give up on this wild goose chase. You can't even muster the energy to be disappointed; you're too focused on your own internal battle between academic responsibilities and your desire for the social scene.

Just as you turn to head for the exit, your hasty retreat is halted by an unexpected and rather forceful collision. You practically bump into a broad, solid chest that seemingly appears out of nowhere. Startled, you stagger back a step, nearly dropping the papers that you have clenched in your hand.

Looking up, you're met with the sight of a tall man, much taller than you. The first thing you notice is his thick black-framed glasses perched on his nose, giving him a rather studious appearance. However, his eyes sparkle with warmth and curiosity, and his friendly, wide smile catches you off guard.

"I'm sorry," you stammer, feeling flustered by the unexpected encounter.

The man's voice is deep and soothing and light-hearted as he replies, "No need to apologise. Are you looking for someone, or can I help you find a book or something?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should reveal your purpose in the library. But the kindness in his eyes and the genuine desire to assist make you decide to share. "Actually, I'm trying to find someone named Yunho. I was told he could help me with my studies."

His smile widens, his eyes scrunching in the process, and he extends a hand in greeting. "Yunho, at your service. It's nice to meet you."

You shake his hand, feeling a mix of surprise and relief. Yunho is not what you had expected, and the moment you assumed he'd be a stereotypical "nerd" is now a distant memory. As you look into his friendly eyes, a sense of hope and optimism begins to replace the frustration and doubt that had plagued you earlier.

"You're Yunho?" you ask, a hint of surprise in your voice, as he begins to lead you towards where it appears he was sitting.

"Yes, is it hard to believe?" Yunho responds, a slight nervousness in his tone. "I can get my ID out if you're sceptical." He quickly reaches into his pocket, his ears turning a shade of red as he rushes to grab his ID.

Hastily, you halt him, not wanting to put him through the trouble of proving his identity. Silently, you smile to yourself, he is sweet.

You and Yunho take a seat at a quiet corner table within the library, and you find yourself fidgeting with unease in your chair. Yunho, observant of your discomfort, wisely refrains from commenting, valuing your need for privacy.

"Alright," Yunho began, adjusting his glasses with a hint of nervousness in his demeanour. He reaches into his bag, carefully pulling out two well-worn textbooks and a stack of papers, placing them on the table in front of you.

"I wasn't entirely sure which topics you needed help with, so I brought materials for all five modules you're studying this semester."

You examine the books, their covers showing the marks of countless readers who had delved into their pages.

"Are these your books?" you inquire, surprised by the thoughtfulness he has put into his preparation.

Yunho shakes his head, his cheeks flushing slightly as he admits, "No, I borrowed them from the library. Microbiology isn't my field of study."

Your disbelief is evident as you fix your gaze on him. The rosy hue on his cheeks deepens as he fiddles with the sleeves of his oversized sweater and adjusts his glasses nervously. "You don't study microbiology?" you ask, genuinely surprised.

"No," Yunho confesses, his embarrassment now fully on display. "I just study it as a hobby."

You can’t help but be impressed by his dedication and the sheer audacity of teaching a subject purely out of passion.

"That's impressive," you state. You were well aware that to tutor a subject officially, one typically needed to pass a test administered by the school, certifying one's proficiency. The fact that Yunho was willing to help without any formal obligation was both admirable and unexpected.

Curiosity gets the better of you, you inquire, "What else do you tutor?"

Yunho hesitates for a moment, his fingers still absently adjusting his glasses. "Um, history, algebra, and applied sciences," he finally reveals, his modesty and shyness contrasting with his evident knowledge.

As you listened to him speak, you found yourself captivated not only by his academic prowess but also by the way he wore his thick glasses and his endearing shyness. Yunho was turning out to be a surprising and impressive individual, and you couldn't help but feel a growing fascination with the person who had just entered your academic world.

“So how much do you know about Microbiology?” Yunho questions, thinning through some of the papers in front of him.

“Uh, the basics I guess.” you mumble, your knowledge not the best seeing as you have missed many lectures the past few months.

Yunho's gaze meets yours, and you sense him observing your unease as his eyes traverse your form.

With a soft tone, he reassures you, "it’s okay, you can be honest. I'm here to help you, so you have to be honest. Then I can help you in the best way possible.”

For a fleeting moment, his words touch your heart, a warmth spreading within. Yet, you quickly suppress the feeling, reminding yourself that there is no time for such emotions in your busy life.

“I’ve forgotten a lot, to be honest.”

“That’s okay, we will start with the basics today, to refresh your memory.”

Under the soft glow of the study lamps in your cosy corner of the library, Yunho begins to unravel the basics. The excitement in his eyes was unmistakable, his passion for the subject evident with every word he spoke.

"Alright," he begins, tracing his finger along the pages filled with complex diagrams and scientific jargon. "As you likely already know, microbiology is the study of tiny organisms, like bacteria, viruses, and fungi. These microorganisms are everywhere, and they play a crucial role in our lives, from the food we eat to the diseases we encounter."

Yunho's explanation is clear and concise, making sure to break down complex ideas into easily digestible pieces.

He continues, "Uhh, the basics: the three main types of microorganisms. First, there are bacteria. They're single-celled organisms that can be both good and bad. Some bacteria help with digestion in your gut, while others can cause diseases."

You nod along, your memory starting to be refreshed. Yunho's enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself getting more and more interested in the subject.

He flips to a page with colourful illustrations of various microorganisms. "Then there are viruses, which are even smaller than bacteria. They're not considered living because they can't reproduce on their own. Instead, they need a host cell to replicate. Viruses are responsible for many illnesses, like the flu or COVID."

You absorb the information, appreciating how Yunho made the complex concept of viruses relatable. "And the third type?" you prompt.

"Ah, fungi," Yunho smiles. "Fungi are more complex microorganisms. They can be beneficial, like the yeast used in baking bread, or harmful, causing infections like athlete's foot. They're known for their unique cell structure and reproduction methods."

Whilst he explains, he encourages you to ask questions, making sure you are following along. The library's serene ambiance, coupled with Yunho's patient teaching, created a comfortable learning atmosphere. He didn't rush, taking his time to make sure you grasped each concept before moving on.

He continued to cover the basics of microbiology, including the significance of studying these microorganisms, their role in medicine, agriculture, and environmental science. Yunho's passion for the subject was evident in the way he animatedly discussed the various branches of microbiology, from medical microbiology to environmental microbiology, each with its unique focus and importance.

In the quiet of the library, during this unexpected first study session, you find yourself lost in thought. This wasn't how you had imagined it would go, and you can’t help but be impressed and thankful for Yunho's extraordinary patience and intelligence.

You had initially expected a conventional tutoring experience, but Yunho has proven to be so much more. His explanations were crystal clear, his passion for the subject contagious, and his willingness to help you with genuine enthusiasm is striking. He isn’t just a smart individual; he is a rare combination of intelligence and empathy.

You marvel at the fact that he wasn't the stereotypical snobby, know-it-all type who might look down on your abilities. Instead, Yunho is an embodiment of understanding and non-judgment. As he continues to make the complex subject of microbiology comprehensible, you can’t help but feel immense gratitude.

The study session with Yunho nears its end and you find yourself in a much different frame of mind than when you had started. Initially apprehensive about having a tutor, you have been pleasantly surprised by the experience. Your worries have somewhat melted away, replaced by a growing sense of confidence and gratitude.

Yunho, having covered a significant portion of the microbiology basics, closes the textbook with a satisfied smile. "I think we've made some good progress today," he says. "But there is still a lot we have to cover before exams next month. I expect to see you every Wednesday and Friday until then." Yunho attempts a stern voice, jokingly pointing his finger at you.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Yes sir.” you salute him, acting back on his funny actions.

Gathering your belongings, you prepare to leave the library, yet Yunho surprises you with a genuine offer.

"If you ever have questions or need further assistance, don't hesitate to reach out. I'm here to help, and I enjoy teaching. We can meet on more days if you need."

You smile at the sincerity in his voice, “that’s okay, Yunho.” you say before turning towards the exit.

Walking out of the library, a lightness seems to settle upon your chest, replacing the initial apprehension with a sense of accomplishment. Glancing at your phone, you note that it is only ten in the evening. This realisation fills you with a newfound sense of freedom and opportunity.

With a contented smile, you contemplate the evening unfolding before you. The memory of the house party, just a short walk down the road, initially seemed distant due to your earlier commitment to the study session with Yunho. Despite knowing that you should be heading home to review your notes, a mischievous thought crept into your mind – what Yunho didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

A sly smirk plays on your lips as you begin to make your way toward the house party. You can’t deny the allure of a night filled with fun and perhaps a little indulgence. Yet, as you take your first steps, a fleeting moment of hesitation overcomes you. You pause, reflecting on the considerable effort Yunho had put into helping you today.

It is a big realisation. Few, if any, have ever invested so much time and effort in your growth and success. Your heart warms for a brief second at the thought, but just as quickly, you push aside those emotions. You have your reasons – a past that still haunted you, and the fear of getting your heart broken once more. You can’t afford to be vulnerable.

Despite your better judgement, you continue your journey to the house party, determined to enjoy the night to the fullest.

Unbeknownst to you, though, Yunho's presence would linger in your thoughts throughout the night.

—

Several weeks have passed since the start of your study sessions with Yunho, and it has been quite the transformative period. Initially, you had been reluctant to engage in any additional study outside of your scheduled sessions with him. But over time, Yunho's presence had become a reassuring constant in your life, offering a sense of peace and support that you couldn't quite admit to yourself.

During the past couple of weeks, you found yourself increasingly immersed in your books and studies, even sometimes choosing academic pursuits over the lively parties that your large, party-loving friend group frequented.

The shift in your priorities had not gone unnoticed by your friends, who seemed disheartened by your withdrawal from their activities. A residue of guilt clings to you every time you opted to hit the books rather than attend a party. Your ‘friends’ have grown vocal about it, casting you as a bore and a waste of time, berating you for supposedly losing your popularity.

Amid this turmoil, your study sessions with Yunho had become a sanctuary, a refuge from the social pressure and expectations. What you didn't fully realise was the profound positive impact these sessions were having on you, not just academically but also in terms of your personal growth.

Just a few days ago, you faced your first exam since you had started your sessions with Yunho and today you are receiving the results. You are well aware that if you do not pass this, it is not a huge deal seeing as it is not a final exam. Yet you do need to prove yourself to the student council by at least getting a D.

The anticipation is palpable in Professor Turner's classroom, the air thick with nervous energy. She stands at the front of the room, clutching a stack of papers that hold the results of the previous week's exam. Your heart races as you sit there, your anxiety mounting with each passing moment.

Whilst Professor Turner begins to distribute the grades, your palms grow clammy, and your heart races even faster.

As Professor Turner finally reaches your desk, she hands you the paper with a warm smile that holds an underlying pride. In the corner of the sheet, a vibrant red 'C' was marked. It isn’t the highest grade in the class, but at this moment, it feels like a monumental achievement.

A sense of accomplishment washes over you like a warm wave, as you realise that all the effort, Yunho's unwavering support, and Professor Turner's belief in you is beginning to pay off.

You cannot wait to let Yunho know about the news.

The campus courtyard was alive with activity as students milled about, enjoying the pleasant weather and the break from their studies. Among the various clusters of friends, you spot Yunho, standing with a small group of his own. His friends seem to be engaged in an animated conversation, their voices and laughter filling the air.

You observe Yunho for a brief moment, his expression appearing neutral as he attentively listens to his friend's conversation. Your gaze then drifts down to the sight of Yunho pulling up the sleeves of his knitted sweater, revealing his unexpectedly well-defined forearms. The contrast between his baggy clothing and his toned physique momentarily catches you off guard.

But as you approach, your excitement is impossible to contain, the momentary thought of how toned Yunho is elsewhere leaves your mind. Your heart races, and you feel a surge of joy within you. The sense of accomplishment overwhelms you, and you can’t wait to share the news with Yunho, regardless of the audience.

Without hesitation, you stride purposefully toward him, determination etched across your face. The moment you reach him, you suddenly feel a little small under the eyes of his friends who seem to have noticed you approaching.

“Yunho,” you say gently, attempting to get his attention.

Yunho turns around, surprised to see you talking to him outside of your study sessions.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yunho questions, his attention fully on you as he forgets his friends existence.

“I passed the exam,” you beam, “well barely it was only a C.”

Yunho’s eyes widen as his face breaks into a bright, genuine smile. His eyes, behind his thick glasses, now sparkle with delight.

"That's amazing! I knew you could do it!" he exclaims, his enthusiasm matching yours.

His friends can’t resist exchanging glances among themselves, finding it rather peculiar to witness your conversation with Yunho. After all, you are a highly popular figure in their school, while Yunho remains a reserved and relatively unknown individual.

The smile of pride that graces Yunho's face stirs a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, a sensation that has become increasingly common in recent times. Yet, you can't quite bring yourself to acknowledge the feeling, even to yourself.

Yunho's hand rises with a touch of hesitation before gently resting on the top of your head, playfully ruffling your hair to convey a silent 'good job.' Your entire face warms at the simple gesture, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

"Now, it's time to focus on those major tests, okay?" Yunho exclaims, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he makes an effort to infuse you with the same excitement.

"Yes, sir," you respond with a playful salute, evoking a chuckle from his lips. Saluting Yunho has become somewhat of a habit, and he finds it endearing every time you do it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You offer a nod, a warm smile gracing your face as you wave and bid farewell to Yunho and his friends.

Walking away, you feel a deep sense of gratitude for Yunho's unwavering support, not just as a tutor but as a friend who is being a great help in your journey toward success.

His encouragement had been a driving force in your recent accomplishments, and you couldn't have been happier to share this victory with him and his friends in the vibrant courtyard, a testament to the bonds forged through your academic pursuits.

As you depart, Yunho's gaze lingers on your retreating figure, a faint smile gracing his lips as he replays the conversation in his mind. The moment you vanish from his sight, his friends swivel toward him, their faces etched with bewilderment and curiosity.

"When you mentioned you were tutoring someone, you didn't say it was them?" Wooyoung exclaims, genuine confusion stemming from the exchange they just witnessed.

Yunho, momentarily caught off guard by their reactions, inquires, "What do you mean?" He shifts his attention toward the group, ready to address their inquiries.

"Dude, she's the most popular person in this school; you don't just get to talk to them," San chimes in, his astonishment mirroring Wooyoung's.

Yunho, however, didn't buy into the notion of social hierarchies. He pokes San in the forehead, responding, "We're not in high school anymore, and there's no such thing as popular girls and guys."

Wooyoung's expression softens as he mulls over your interaction. "And they were so nice," he continues, noting Yunho's reaction. "I didn't expect someone with their status to be so nice."

Yunho's annoyance flares at the stereotype implied in Wooyoung's words, his brow furrowing. "Don't hold such stereotypes," he chastises his friend. "They... they are the sweetest person I know."

San's eyes widen as he glances at Yunho, connecting the dots. "Holy moly," he exclaims. "You like them, don't you?"

Yunho scrambles to hush him up, his cheeks flushing. "Shut up," he grumbles, though the embarrassment in his voice hints at a deeper truth.

—

“Ugh, I’m never going to pass this test,” you groan as you throw your head into your hands, frustration emitting from your every fibre.

"Come on, don't be so pessimistic. You've got this, and I believe in you," Yunho exclaims, his warm smile casting a ray of encouragement over the room. He watches as you succumb to a hissy fit, a mix of frustration and self-doubt, a smile covering his features at your actions.

"You always say that, but this time I am doomed," you groan, your voice muffled by your hands as you bury your face in them.

Gently, Yunho reaches out and takes your hands, coaxing them away from your face. The contact sends a brief tremor through your heart, and you can’t help but notice the warmth of his touch.

"You can do it; you're the smartest person I know," Yunho says softly, locking his eyes with yours. His words catch you off guard, and you look at him, a puzzled expression furrowing your brow.

"I'm not smart; if I were, I wouldn't need a tutor," you state flatly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone, which elicits a chuckle from Yunho.

"I'd be an idiot not to see your potential. I just think you had your priorities muddled when you first came here," he remarks.

Curious, you probe further. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's no secret you enjoy a party," Yunho replies.

"No, before that."

"Oh," Yunho responds, and he continues, seemingly on a roll, "Well, I'd have to be blind not to see how smart you actually are. You're very capable of applying knowledge and solving problems. You have an excellent memory; most of the time, I only have to explain something once, and you've already processed it and applied it. It's very impressive. You're incredibly talented too. I see all the drawings you do in your book when you’re bored."

Yunho continues his praise, yet he is unaware of the emotions that well up within you. When he eventually glances in your direction, he is taken aback to find your eyes glistening with tears and a smile gracing your face.

"Did I say something wrong? I'm so sorry if it wasn't my intention," he inquires quickly, a sense of concern crossing his features as he worries he may have inadvertently hurt your feelings.

You shake your head and wipe away a tear, still smiling. "No, Yunho. It's just... no one really sees me like that anymore."

Now Yunho is confused for a different reason. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, most people see me as the 'popular girl' or 'the life of the party.' I don't know. It's nice to be seen as something other than the stereotype.”

"I know what you mean," Yunho says, his hand ruffling his hair as his cheeks turn a faint shade of red.

"What do you mean?" you ask, intrigued by his response.

"Well, I'm usually seen as a nerd or a loner. People only talk to me when they need help with assignments or answers for exams. It was nice at first, feeling needed, but now it just feels like I'm being used in a way. I only have two friends, and they spend more time with each other than they do with me." Yunho admits, his gaze drifting down to his fingers, where he idly picks at a piece of dead skin on his nail.

"I know it's weird coming from me since you're literally my tutor, but I don't think your intelligence defines you," You begin, causing Yunho to look up at you with a puzzled expression, waiting for you to elaborate.

You continue, your words flowing with sincerity, "You're a sweetheart, Yunho. I see you helping people, not because you have to, but because you genuinely enjoy it. You're kind, a gentleman, and incredibly thoughtful. Your sense of humour is beyond anyone I've ever met before; it's refreshing to talk to someone whose humour isn't just 'your momma' jokes or making others look bad to get a laugh."

Yunho furrows his eyebrows, taking in your words, his expression almost studying them.

"Plus," you add, a warm smile gracing your face, "whether you like it or not, I consider you my friend."

—

The evening sun casts a warm glow over the campus as you join your friend group in the bustling cafeteria. Laughter and chatter filled the air as you settled in with them at your usual table. The topic of conversation quickly turns to the party happening later in the night, an event that has become increasingly rare for you to attend. The thought of partying when there was a crucial final exam on the horizon weighs heavily on your mind.

"Hey, you are coming to the party tonight, right?" your friend asks, a glimmer of anticipation in their eyes.

You hesitate for a moment, knowing what your priorities were. "I wish I could, but I really need to study for the final exam," you explain.

Immediately, your friends' expressions grow sour, and they exchange incredulous glances. "Again? You're always studying or making excuses. It's like you're avoiding us," one of them remarks, frustration creeping into their tone.

Their words sting, and you feel the pressure of their expectations bearing down on you. "I'm not avoiding anyone; I just have to prioritise my studies, you guys know I might get expelled." you insist, your voice wavering slightly as you try to maintain your composure.

But your friends aren’t satisfied with your explanation.

"You never come to parties anymore. You're turning into a loser nerd, just like that loner Yunho," another friend declares with a snide tone, and the others chime in agreement, chuckles leaving their mouths.

The words strike a nerve, and you can’t hold back any longer. How dare they insult Yunho, who has been there for you during your toughest times of studying? The anger that has been building up inside you erupts.

"Yunho is not a loser," you snap, your voice filled with indignation. "He's been more of a friend to me than any of you. If you can't understand the importance of my studies and support me, then I don't need ‘friends’ like you."

At that moment, you make a decision. These friends are just immature individuals who only care about getting drunk and partying. They value popularity and shallow connections over your well-being and academic success. You have had enough of pretending to be something you weren't just to fit in.

"I don't care about popularity if it means I have to be fake and have fake-ass friends," you exclaim. With that, you push your chair back and leave the table, leaving your former friends behind, realising that true friendship means understanding and respecting your priorities, not forcing you to compromise your goals.

Walking away from the cafeteria, you feel a mix of anger, relief, and sadness. It was painful to let go of friendships that had once meant so much to you, but you knew that your academic journey is more important than trying to fit into a mould that didn't truly represent who you were.

Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t prevent them from spilling over as you stand just outside the school gates. You pay no mind to the curious glances of onlookers, for your emotions are too overwhelming to be hidden. You aren’t entirely certain if these tears are born of sadness, frustration, or a turbulent mix of both.

Without even thinking, you pull out your phone and dial Yunho’s number. You are not sure if you want to be alone tonight, yet you definitely do not want to go to a party. The only person you know will be available is Yunho. Maybe you can have an extra study session tonight.

It takes the phone only five seconds before Yunho picks up, his voice bright as he greets you.

"Hey, Yunho," you begin, attempting to maintain a sense of composure, but the tremor in your voice reveals your unease.

Yunho's keen ear picks up on the shakiness in your tone, and concern washes over him as he responds with a soft, soothing voice, "What's wrong?"

You sniffle, trying to brush off the emotions threatening to overcome you. "Nothing, it's nothing," you reply, your voice still carrying the traces of distress. "Are you free to study? I don't have anything to do, and I need to go over a few things."

Yunho is aware that a big party is scheduled for tonight, information he had gathered from Wooyoung, who also enjoys such gatherings. He finds it puzzling that you, too, had initially expressed an interest in attending the event, but he refrained from voicing his curiosity.

"I am free, but the library is closed today, and the school is closing soon too," Yunho explains, an idea begins to take root in his mind, and he hesitates before asking, "You could come to my place?"

The offer hangs in the air for a moment, full of unspoken implications. Yunho's excitement about the prospect of having you over is palpable, yet he tries to maintain his composure. He knows that his place will offer a quiet environment for studying.

The offer hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, you hesitate. You are well aware that accepting Yunho's invitation would signify a slight shift in your academic tutor relationship. The unspoken implications dance in the silence between you.

Yunho, on the other hand, finds his nervousness manifesting in the way he chews the inside of his cheek. His heart races as he awaits your response, unsure of how you would react to his proposition.

Despite your initial reservations, you can’t seem to bring yourself to decline his offer. The warmth and genuine concern that Yunho has consistently shown makes you feel safe and comfortable around him, and you find it difficult to resist the idea of studying in his presence, even if it means stepping slightly outside the boundaries of your tutor-student dynamic.

“What’s your address?”

Making your way to Yunho's apartment, the anticipation of seeing him outside the usual academic setting adds an extra layer of excitement to your steps. The prospect of stepping into his personal space, even for a study session, feels like a small adventure.

You reach his apartment door and take a moment to collect yourself, your heart beating just a bit faster with each passing second. When you knock, the immediate rustling sounds from the other side of the door indicate that Yunho is indeed home.

The door opens, revealing a sight that takes your breath away. You are accustomed to seeing Yunho in smart attire, his hair always neatly styled, and he consistently looks presentable. However, the man who stands before you now is quite different.

Yunho is dressed in a loose grey T-shirt that hangs comfortably on his frame, and he wears a pair of black sweatpants that appear as cosy as they are casual. His hair is fluffy and untamed, in stark contrast to his usually well-groomed appearance. Yet, for some reason, this version of Yunho is just as captivating.

He still wears his thick glasses, but the way he looks now, so relaxed and approachable, makes your heart flutter. You can’t help but notice the subtle differences that render him all the more appealing. Your eyes linger on his toned arms, a part of him that was typically concealed beneath his attire. The sight of them, revealed in the simple T-shirt, is enough to send a rush of warmth throughout your body.

Yunho's appearance today is a stark departure from his usual academic demeanour, and it leaves you both pleasantly surprised and, admittedly, a little flustered.

"Hey, uh, you can come in," Yunho stammers, a faint blush covering his cheeks.

You step inside, casting a brief but appreciative glance around Yunho's apartment. The space is on the smaller side, but it exudes a cosy charm that instantly puts you at ease. The apartment is immaculately clean and well-organised with a sense of tranquillity that contrasts with the bustling student life outside.

The living room is adorned with shelves, and the shelves are full of an impressive array of books, neatly arranged in rows. The sight of so many books gives you a glimpse into the depth of his knowledge and his passion for education.

As you look around, you notice a comfortable-looking sofa with a warm throw blanket tossed over it, a sign of a space that was both functional and inviting. The soft glow of a desk lamp illuminated a study area with a well-kept desk, hinting at countless hours of diligent work.

Yunho's apartment is not large, but it feels like a haven for anyone seeking a peaceful refuge from the outside world. It reminds you of Yunho.

"Do you want something to drink or eat?" Yunho asks, his voice tinged with a touch of nervousness as he observes your exploration of his apartment.

You take a moment to absorb the cosy ambiance of his living space before replying, "Have you had dinner?"

Yunho's cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, and a small, endearing smile graced his lips. “I haven't yet, I was going to order something later.”

“Can we eat together? I haven't eaten since this morning.”

Yunho grumbles your name, reprimanding you, "I told you, you need to eat regularly; it helps with..."

You finish his sentence with a soft chuckle, "Concentration, I know, Yu."

The use of the affectionate nickname "Yu" slips easily from your lips, and you are unaware of the profound impact it has on Yunho. His heart races at the sound of it, though he tries to hide his reaction with a smile.

You continue, "We can eat while studying, right?" Your suggestion seems to lighten the mood, and Yunho is more than willing to accommodate your request.

“Of course.”

Yunho and you sit on the floor of his living room, your books and notes spread out on his coffee table, which also hold the remnants of an empty pizza box from your meal earlier. This makeshift study space is cosy, and the atmosphere is filled with the shared pursuit of knowledge.

Yunho is positioned in front of you, as he often is during your study sessions, carefully watching you as you diligently take notes. He couldn't help but admire your dedication and determination, and his heart swelled with pride as he saw your progress.

As you write, a strand of hair slips from behind your ear and falls in front of your face. It is a simple, everyday occurrence, but to Yunho, it is a moment of subtle beauty. He feels a strong urge to reach out and tuck that strand of hair behind your ear, to be close to you in that small, intimate way. However, he holds back, not wanting to push any boundaries that existed between you.

He watches with fascination as you decide to tie your hair up, using a hairband that was on your wrist. The act of gathering your hair and securing it in a ponytail seems almost magical to him. Yunho can’t deny the allure of how you look with your hair up, a sense of casual elegance that tugs at his heart.

In this moment, his thoughts stray to less innocent territories, but he quickly redirects his focus to the task at hand. He can’t afford to let his mind wander too far, not when the two of you are deep in a study session and he is fairly certain you would never harbour feelings for him in that way.

However, the image of you with your hair tied up stays with him, etched into his memory, a reminder of the many facets of your charm that make it increasingly difficult for him to keep his feelings at bay.

You furrow your brows, attempting to decipher a particularly complex passage about pathogens. It is a subject that has always managed to baffle you, and tonight was no exception.

Glancing up, you are caught off guard by the intense gaze of Yunho. He was already intently staring at you, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. Clearing your throat, you shift your focus back to the book, feeling the weight of his attention. Yunho immediately averts his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in his own book.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to take a chance and ask the question that has been bothering you about the microorganism. "Yunho, can you help me with this? I don't quite understand this."

Yunho's attention snaps back to you, his eyes focusing on the book. However, as he leans in to get a better look, the words on the page seem to blur. Determined to help you, he moves closer, sitting next to you on the floor. His arm brushing against yours, his thigh lightly touching yours, creates a subtle yet undeniable physical connection.

Yunho looks down at your bare thighs and he mentally curses you for wearing a skirt, he isn't sure how to pay attention when you are so close to him.

Yunho begins to explain the terminology and you find it increasingly challenging to concentrate on the subject. Your eyes are locked on his face, drawn to the way his lips move and the subtle changes in his expression as he explains the concepts. His proximity was both distracting and comforting, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.

You cannot deny the allure of Yunho's presence. His crisp scent, a mix of a rich, woody sweetness and a hint of cologne, fills your senses and sends your mind racing. It is an intoxicating aroma that evokes a sense of freshness and warmth, creating an almost magnetic pull.

Listening to Yunho's explanations, you struggle to keep your focus on the topic at hand. Your eyes remain fixed on his face, capturing the play of emotions and the genuine care he puts into helping you understand. In this moment, the connection between you is undeniable, and the unspoken tension in the air seems to grow with each passing second. Little did you both know the profound effect you are having on each other as you lean against one another, on the verge of something unspoken. The second Yunho moves back to his seat, you suddenly feel awfully cold and empty, yet once again you push the feelings away.

The two of you continue your study session, when Yunho suddenly removes his glasses and rubs his eyes in a gesture of weariness. His actions catch your attention, and your gaze remains locked on his face, momentarily entranced by the change in his appearance.

In all the time you have spent with Yunho, you have never really taken into consideration how handsome he might be without his glasses. Now, as you observe his bare face, you are struck by his natural beauty. His features are chiselled and symmetrical, and there is a timeless quality to his face that make him incredibly appealing.

Yunho's clear eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, hold a depth that you haven't fully appreciated before. His skin was smooth and unblemished, and his lips had a natural rosy hue. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a different charm to him that you have never taken the time to notice.

For a moment, you find yourself in awe of how genuinely handsome he is, and you can’t help but appreciate the sight of him with his glasses off.

The study session is coming to a close, and as you gather your books and notes, you notice a curious look on Yunho's face. It is evident that he has something on his mind, and your curiosity gets the best of you.

"Is there something??" you inquire, your voice soft and inquisitive.

Yunho hesitates for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. "When you called, you seemed upset. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I was just worried."

You look at him with a touch of surprise at his perceptiveness.

The fight with your friends wasn’t something you had planned to discuss, but you can sense the genuine concern in Yunho's expression, and you feel compelled to share.

Taking a deep breath, you begin to explain the situation, recounting the immaturity and unfair accusations that had led to the fallout. Yunho's shock and disbelief at their behaviour is palpable, and his expression reveals a mix of sympathy and frustration on your behalf.

"I can't believe they'd act like that," Yunho exclaims, his voice laced with sympathy. "It's their loss, you know. You're an incredible person, and they're the ones who are missing out."

Yunho's words are comforting, and the warmth of his understanding makes you feel as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. It is a rare and welcome feeling to have someone truly empathise with your situation, and you find yourself grateful for his support.

Yunho watches you with a tender look when suddenly his curiosity gets the best of him, and he asks, "What does your boyfriend think of you coming to my house and spending so much time with me?"

You let out a sigh, the question touching a nerve you are not quite ready to address. "I don't have a boyfriend," you confess, and for a moment, there is a hint of vulnerability in your voice.

Yunho, genuinely surprised, raises an eyebrow, trying to hide his excitement as he peers at you. "Why not?"

You sigh again, your gaze dropping to the floor. "Most of the boys I'm around aren't ready for a relationship. They just want something casual, and I don't want to get my heart broken."

Yunho's brow furrows as he considers your response. "I didn't expect that," he admits, his voice tinged with surprise.

"What do you mean?" you ask, genuinely curious about his reaction.

Yunho sets a piece of paper he had been studying in front of him, "I mean, you have guys falling at your feet. Don't you have one person you enjoy spending time with?"

You ponder on his words, your eyes lingering on Yunho, who is now fully engaged in the paper. He isn't looking at you; instead, his gaze is focused on the words before him.

After a moment of contemplation, you respond, "I enjoy spending time with you."

The second the words leave your lips, Yunho looks up from his reading, and the world seems to momentarily stand still around you. His heart skips a beat, and for a fraction of a second, everything else fades into the background. Your words hang in the air, and Yunho lets them sink in.

In this suspended moment, it is as if the universe conspired to create a connection that went beyond friendship and tutoring. Yunho's heart pounds in his chest, and he can’t help but meet your gaze with a mixture of surprise and affection.

Yunho cannot deny the impact of your confession. It is a sentiment he has quietly harboured but never dared to voice. Now, as the reality of your words settle in, he can’t help but feel a sense of joy and gratitude for the special bond that has grown between you, transcending the boundaries of tutor and student.

—

The night is alive with the promise of revelry as you arrive at a party, a whirlwind of colour and sound. It has been some time since you'd attended such an event, focusing intensely on your studies. But tonight is different. Hongjoong, an old friend who had no knowledge of falling out with your other friends, had invited you. You trusted him not to judge your academic priorities, and the prospect of enjoying yourself was too tempting to resist.

You had chosen to let loose for the evening. After an intense study session last night, you felt you deserved a break. You wear a stunning deep purple dress that hugs your curves, accentuating your figure in all the right places. The fabric clings to you like a second skin, and its elegance draws the admiring gazes of many in attendance. Though you are well aware of the attention, you can’t help but feel indifferent to it now. Your priorities have shifted, and the superficial desires of others hold little sway over you.

Entering the party, the vibrant atmosphere envelopes you. The music throbs with an infectious beat, and the dance floor pulses with people lost in the rhythm. Laughter and conversations fill the air, and the warm glow of colourful lights creates a dazzling backdrop for the night's festivities.

Spotting Hongjoong in the kitchen, you make your way through the bustling crowd. He is deeply engrossed in a lively conversation with some of his friends, a characteristic grin lighting up his face. A sense of nostalgia and anticipation welled up within you as you drew closer.

You approach Hongjoong, who is mingling near the drinks table, a welcoming smile on his face as he spots you.

“Do you want a drink?” He offers, but you decline, stating that you have an early lecture the next morning.

Hongjoong nods understandingly, knowing you are dedicated to your studies. You are grateful for his response, as he does not press the issue but simply smiles and continues with the conversation.

“So you’ve gone back to your nerd roots,” Hongjoong jokes as he hands you a cup of cola.

You laugh as you take the cup, “it’s been a while since I've studied this hard,”

“You were always stuck in a book in highschool,”

“It’s nice to feel like my brain isn't rotting anymore,” you exclaim laughing.

“I’ll cheers to that,”

As you chat with Hongjoong, you enjoy catching up and the lively atmosphere of the party. When all of a sudden you see a familiar figure from the corner of your eye. At first, you thought your mind might be playing tricks on you, but as you turn your head, you realise it was indeed who you thought it was.

Quickly, you bid a quick goodbye to Hongjoong and make your way through the crowd, heading straight for the person, who seems to be stumbling around slightly.

Concern etched on your face, you approach him and ask, "Yunho, what on earth are you doing here?"

Yunho's expression is a mix of surprise and embarrassment as he struggles to regain his composure. "Uh… I’m not really sure," he admits, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You can’t help but feel a combination of amusement and warmth at his unexpected presence. Yunho, who usually exudes an air of composed intelligence, seems to be a bit out of his element in the party scene. Nonetheless, you appreciated the effort he made to be there.

"Are you okay?" You question, his anxious eyes dart around the crowded room, taking in the chaotic atmosphere of the party.

Yunho hesitates for a moment before admitting, "Would it be weird if I said I don't like it here?"

A warm smile graces your face, understanding his unease in this unfamiliar setting. Without hesitation, you reach out and gently grab his hand, your fingers interlocking boldly. Yunho is taken aback by the physical contact, feeling the warmth of your hand in his, and his heart flutters in response.

You lead him to a more secluded area of the house where the music is not as deafening, and the crowd is much thinner. The change of scenery provides a welcome respite from the overwhelming chaos of the main party area. Yunho can’t ignore the way your small hands feel in his large ones, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. It is a simple gesture, but it makes him feel closer to you, dispelling some of his unease.

In the quieter, more secluded area of the house, you and Yunho find a temporary refuge from the bustling party.

"What are you really doing here?" you ask, curiosity in your eyes.

Yunho's expression shifts, and he admits, "Wooyoung dragged me here. I didn't really want to come, and I already don't like it." His eyes scan the room, taking in the scene around him.

For a moment, Yunho's gaze settles on you, and he notices your choice of attire, a short, form-fitting dress that accentuates your curves. It is a striking sight that leaves an indelible impression on him. His mind wanders to non-innocent places, etching the image of you in this dress into his memory. He can’t deny that you look stunning, and his thoughts momentarily venture into uncharted territory.

Although his initial discomfort at the party has faded, the sight of you in that dress stirs something within him, something he has only thought of late at night. It is an unexpected sight that leaves Yunho in a state of internal turmoil, struggling to keep his thoughts in check as he tries to focus on the conversation at hand.

The pulsating music and the chaotic atmosphere of the party seems to close in around you. Suddenly a thought crosses your mind, and you turn to Yunho, considering your options.

"Do you want to get out of here?" you ask, your voice barely audible over the party noise.

Your question snaps Yunho out of his thoughts, and he looks back up at you as if he had been caught taking in your form. His gaze meets yours, and for a brief moment, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. It is a rare sight, and it makes you feel even more connected to him.

It takes less than a second for Yunho to answer, "Yes."

Without further hesitation, he intertwines your fingers with his, and you both rush towards the exit of the house. Yunho's larger frame shields you from the reckless partiers who are going strong, ensuring you don't get caught in the chaos of the crowd. The touch of his hand is both reassuring and electrifying, and it feels like an unspoken agreement between the two of you; an escape from the madness into a more tranquil and intimate setting.

You are not sure how you ended up at Yunho’s apartment, yet you cannot quite complain. Since the study session at his house you have desired to be back at his, it was so comforting and peaceful in his house and you love it there.

"You can make yourself at home, I'm going to grab us some food," Yunho explains as he opens the door to his cosy apartment. He moves to grab his wallet from the coffee table, ready to head out to pick up the food.

However, as he attempts to pass you and make his way to the door, you stand in front of him, blocking his path. The look on your face reveals your disappointment, and it is clear that you don’t want him to leave so soon.

"Can we order it?" you ask, your voice filled with a longing for his company.

Yunho hesitates for a moment, weighing the options, but he ultimately replies, "It'll be quicker for me to get it now."

Despite his practical reasoning, you insisted, "Please stay with me Yunho."

Yunho can’t help but be touched by your plea. The vulnerability in your voice causes a flutter in his chest, and he is acutely aware of the genuine connection that has developed between you. He smiles and relents, realising that he doesn’t want to leave you either.

"Okay," he speaks softly, "I'll order it."

Your gratitude was evident in your eyes, and you knew you had made the right decision. Yunho's presence is something you cherished, and you are both beginning to understand just how much the other means to you.

You settle onto his couch, and soon enough the Chinese takeout that you had ordered arrives, the delightful aroma filling the room. It is a welcomed comfort that you both enjoy as you unwrap the containers and share the delicious meal.

You watch as Yunho picks a movie that he recommends, and you were intrigued to see his choice.

As you and Yunho start to watch the movie, you can’t help but feel a chill in the room. The soft glow from the TV illuminated your silhouette, the short dress you are wearing now seems impractical in the cosy setting.

Yunho, ever attentive, notices your discomfort and decides to speak up. "Are you cold?" he inquires, a hint of concern in his voice.

You hesitate for a moment but soon admit, "Yeah, a little."

Without further ado, Yunho offers a solution. "I have some warmer clothes you can borrow if you want. I could grab them for you."

His thoughtful gesture leaves you flustered, but you manage to stammer out a grateful "Yes, please." Your heart warms at the consideration he shows, and you appreciate his willingness to make you more comfortable.

Yunho quickly gets up and disappears into his bedroom. He returns with a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, both of which were his own. His choice of clothing was deliberate, as he handed you his favourite hoodie. He has often wondered what you would look like wearing it, and now he has the perfect excuse to find out. The hoodie is warm and smells like him, making you feel closer to him in a way you hadn't anticipated.

Yunho can’t help but watch you with a warm smile as you accept the clothes. However, the smile quickly fades as he realises his mistake, and he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh, sorry," he quickly stutters out, chuckling nervously as he ruffles the back of his hair, "You can change in my bedroom."

You laugh gently at him, he is so cute.

“Thank you,” you smile before walking into his bedroom.

Entering Yunho's bedroom, you can’t help but take in the clean and organised space. His room is a testament to his meticulous nature, and you appreciate the attention to detail. But what truly catches your eye are the posters of various games adorning the walls. You admired the artwork and can’t help but think that they add a personal touch to the room.

Shaking off the distraction, you proceed to change into Yunho's clothes. The hoodie he has given you is larger than you expected, enveloping you in warmth and reaching down to your mid-thigh. The realisation of just how big Yunho begins to dawn on you.

His hoodie seems to swallow you in its comfort, and you can’t help but feel a little bit smaller. His physical presence is undeniable; he is taller than you, his shoulders are broad, and his hands are significantly larger than yours. The contrast is alluring, and you can’t deny that the thought of him towering over you, his sheer size and strength, stirs something within you.

You feel arousal pooling in between your legs, but you push aside the feeling, not sure if Yunho would feel the same way.

The hoodie is so long, you make a bold choice to not wear the sweatpants, seeing as the hoodie covers everything. Plus, there's no harm in seeing Yunho’s reaction.

You step out of the room, and Yunho is skimming between channels, trying to find a different movie to watch.

When Yunho hears your footsteps approaching the living room, he turns around to look at you, expecting to see you in his clothes. However, what he sees leaves his heart nearly stopping. There you stand, wearing nothing but his hoodie, your legs exposed and on full display.

Yunho's breath catches in his throat, and he swallows deeply, trying to suppress the flood of sensations and indecent thoughts that surge through his mind. His cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and he is unable to tear his eyes away from you, his gaze inadvertently lingering on your enticing figure.

In this moment, he finds himself captivated by your beauty and the unexpected intimacy of the situation, struggling to maintain his composure. The sight of you in his hoodie was something he had never expected, and it sends his heart and mind into a whirlwind of emotions and desires.

"What's wrong?" you inquire, noticing the wide-eyed and bright red expression on Yunho's face as he gazes at you with an intensity you haven't seen before.

It is as if a switch has flipped in Yunho's mind, and suddenly, confidence takes over his being. You watch in amazement as he stands up from the couch and moves with a determined purpose towards you.

With each step, it is evident that he is almost out of breath, his chest heaving with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He stops in front of you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. For a moment, you feel like you are the only person in the world for him, and the possessiveness in his gaze doesn’t go unnoticed.

Yunho's large hands land gently on your shoulders, and they slowly trail down to clasp yours. His touch is electrifying, and as he guides you backward, you soon find yourself pressed against the wall, pinned there by his presence. The air seems charged with an unspoken desire, and you can’t help but be captivated by this new side of Yunho.

Yunho murmurs your name, his voice thick with desire and uncertainty. He continues, "You can tell me to stop if you want..."

You don’t hesitate for a moment. In a hushed, eager tone, you reply, "Yunho, just kiss me for fuck's sake."

Yunho gently cups your cheek, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of tenderness and desire. Leaning closer, his lips press against your cheek, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they venture down toward your mouth. He pauses for a moment, watching you closely, his breath brushing across your face, sending shivers down your spine.

With careful consideration, he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, testing the waters, and eliciting a soft gasp from you. Feeling the tightening grip of your hand on his shirt, he gains the reassurance he needs to continue. Slowly, he deepens the kiss, his lips melding with yours, the softness and warmth sending a wave of astonishment through your body. His lips move against yours and all the feelings of the past few months pour into the kiss.

Yunho delicately probes his tongue into your mouth, you can’t help but respond. Your fingers tighten their hold on his shirt, and a surge of electric sensations course through your body, leaving you breathless and eager for more.

Yunho's kiss tastes like pure indulgence, a blend of desire and longing that leaves you yearning for more. The feeling is exquisite, and you can’t help but moan softly in response to the intensity of the moment.

His lips leave yours, trailing down your neck from the curve of your jaw. Soft gasps escape your lips as he explores the sensitive skin of your throat, sending shivers down your spine as he presses you harder against the wall, the heat of the kiss overcoming the two of you. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you instinctively threw your head back, granting him better access to your neck.

Yunho breaks away from the kiss, a hint of frustration in his eyes as he tosses his glasses aside, irritated by their intrusion. His dark and intense gaze is now fully revealed, making you realise the depth of his desire. Without delay, he reconnects your lips with a hungry passion that leaves you breathless.

His hands begin a journey down your waist, their touch igniting sparks of pleasure. With astonishing ease, he lifts you off your feet, his strength both surprising and exciting. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, and that is when you feel his hardness prodding you through your underwear. You suddenly feel extremely thankful for not wearing the sweatpants as he now has easier access to where you want him most.

Yunho carries you toward his bedroom with an air of urgency, his strides confident and determined. With a swift, well-placed kick, he sends the bedroom door wide open.

He gently sits on the edge of the mattress, you find yourself in his lap, the warmth of his body enveloping you. The world outside fades into insignificance, and you are left with a sense of anticipation that sends shivers down your spine. The connection between you and Yunho grew stronger, and the intensity of the moment only heightened your desire for one another.

Yunho’s hands travel to your hips, where he kneads the flesh appreciatively. With a calculated move, he pushes you down onto himself, grinding you against his hardness. This causes the both of you to moan into the kiss, the both of you addicted to the sound.

“Yunho, please,” you mutter into the kiss, needing relief that you know Yunho will provide.

“What do you want, beautiful?” Yunho groans back against your lips when he feels you grinding yourself onto him.

“You.” you say with confidence, “always been you.” you declare and it has Yunho’s heart racing even faster in his chest.

Yunho realises the fun he can have in this situation, and he feels addicted to the control he has over you. You bury your face into Yunho’s neck, your embarrassment becoming apparent.

“How badly?” Yunho teases as he places long hot kisses on the side of your neck.

“Please Yunho, please.” usually you would feel humiliated, yet you have no time to feel any form of embarrassment, your desire is too strong. With a swift yet tender movement, Yunho deftly flips the two of you over, your back now resting on the plush comfort of his bed. He settles between your open legs, the space between you filled with electrifying anticipation as the world around you blurred into obscurity.

“Since you’re such a good girl, I have to take care of you, don’t I?”

Yunho's transformation is nothing short of mesmerising. The once innocent aura that surrounded him has gone, replaced by a commanding presence that leaves your head spinning. It is as if he has unlocked a hidden side of himself, and the intensity of his actions and words leave you completely captivated and yearning for more.

With a gentle motion, Yunho pulls the hoodie off, revealing your bare chest to his hungry eyes. He takes in the sight of your naked top half and your panties and it is better than all the times he has imagined it. Your nipples immediately harden in the chilly air and you hastily rush to cover yourself.

“Do not,” Yunho's gentle yet commanding voice holds you in its sway, preventing you from covering yourself. He takes hold of your wrists, his words alone enough to convey his desire, and you obediently nod in agreement, unable to resist his irresistible influence.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers as he scans over your body.

Yunho begins to leave soft kisses across your collar bones, reaching your shoulders and neck as he simultaneously massages the flesh of your breast. He leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin, suckling and biting marks into your skin that only he gets to see.

Slowly, he takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, sucking it, and biting the sensitive nub, an action that has you arching and moaning into his touch.

“You sound so beautiful moaning for me.” Yunho growls before moving to your other nipple and giving it the same attention, making sure to watch your every reaction.

In an agonising pace, Yunho trails his kisses down and you can almost feel yourself shaking from excitement as he nears where you need him the most.

You almost explode the second you feel Yunho’s mouth trailing along your thighs, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh.

Yunho chuckles darkly when he hears your excited gasps and moans, the sounds are like a beautiful melody to him, causing him to want more.

Yunho's sudden act of sitting up to remove his jumper catches your attention, and your eyes remain fixated on him. What you see beneath his clothes surprises you. His toned, well-defined upper body, his waist is slender, his shoulders are broad, giving him a somewhat hourglass-like figure. While he isn’t overly muscular, his physique was indeed a captivating sight. Chiselled abs adorn his stomach, and an irresistible desire wells up within you, compelling you to kiss every inch of his flawless skin.

Yunho's chest swells with pride as he observes your intense gaze on his body. He can hardly believe the turn of events and the desire he sees in your eyes.

Yunho smirks as your hands fumble towards his belt, desperately wanting his pants off.

"Patience, doll," Yunho asserts, his voice exuding confidence as he helps you remove his belt.

Left in only his boxers, you can see his length outlined through his black boxers and your breath is momentarily taken away. He is big, very big. You cannot help but let out a whimper of desperation as you look back up Yunho, who has a cocky grin on his features.

Leaning down, he starts placing light kisses on your stomach and thighs, getting close, but not quite close enough for your liking.

Instinctively, you run your fingers through his locks, trying to push him closer to where you need him. You hear Yunho chuckle at your eagerness, his heart racing knowing you want him as much as he wants you.

You watch Yunho’s every move, wanting to imprint every moment deep into your memory.

Yunho presses a gentle kiss against your clothed core, eliciting a soft mewl from your lips and Yunho hums in appreciation. You feel your whole body heat up in embarrassment as Yunho pulls your panties down, tossing them to the side of the room. You attempt to close your legs, feeling extremely exposed. Yunho feels himself losing self control as he looks at your soaking core, yet he tells himself to control his urges, wanting to make this last for much longer.

Yunho isn’t pleased with this and he lets out a growl as he speaks, “open those legs and let me see that pretty pussy.”

He grips your thighs, forcing them open and you can't help feel another rush of arousal course through you from his strength. It annoys you how slow he is, taking his time to get where you need him, he is too busy enjoying every small reaction, your desperation and eye fucking you, gauging every one of your gasps and twitches.

Yet the second his lips are on your core, the loud moan you let out is close to a scream and you feel him raviging you. His mouth works expertly against you, his tongue alternating between flicking your clit to lapping at your soaking hole has you seeing stars.

Your body squirms with pleasure under Yunho's skilled touch, your fingers instinctively weaving into his hair as he eats you like you are his last meal.

“Yunho, please…” your voice is hoarse as you look down at him.

Yunho gazes up at you, a teasing smirk playing on his lips, making your thoughts hazy.

“Please what, pretty?” Yunho questions, yet as you are about to answer, he slips in one of his long fingers into your core. The second he feels your warm walls around him, he feels himself fighting the urge to destroy you right there and then. You jolt at the sensation, tears lining your eyes because of how desperate you are to be filled by him.

“Want you…need you…” you say, your voice shaky as you throw your head back against the pillow.

“Oh baby,” Yunho tuts, his voice almost condescending as he stares up at your fucked out state, “your pussy is so tight, I need to prep you before, don’t want you to get hurt.”

Yunho's words send another wave of desire coursing through your veins. The contrast between his stern tone and his evident care for your well-being leaves you feeling both dizzy and achingly needy.

“You don't want to get hurt, do you now?” Yunho questions, gently slapping your thigh to get your attention back on him.

“No, I don’t,” you exclaim, doing anything to please the man in front of you.

“Good girl,”

He's ruthless, entering another finger into your wet hole, his tongue alternating sucks and nips on your clit. With ease, he manages to find the spot inside you that sets fireworks through you and you feel the coil in your belly starting to tighten in pleasure.

"So fucking good, doll." He groans, his face pressed against your core has your cunt throbbing. “Can you even take my dick? I don’t want to hurt you when you’re being so good for me.”

You feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm, desperate to topple over the edge. All you need is a little encouragement, and you're extremely glad Yunho is so good at reading you.

“Let loose, baby. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.”

You let out a loud moan, almost a scream as your orgasm hits you and Yunho holds your shaking body down, licking your clit softly as you finish.

Before you can finish riding through your high, Yunho continues to kiss your pussy gently while adding a finger, the sudden stretch in your hole has you whining and writhing around from the sensitivity, his rough movements from his long fingers has you shaking even more. You beg for him to slow down and, thankfully he leans back, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watches you twitch beneath him.

Before you can comment on anything, Yunho leans down and captures you in another heated kiss, and you moan when you can taste yourself on his lips, a new rush of arousal flooding through your body.

“Do you want to keep going? We can stop if you want to.” Yunho's voice, filled with concern, warms your heart, but you can't help the groan that escapes your lips.

"I’d love to continue," you rush on your words, your enthusiasm unabated. Chuckling at your eagerness, Yunho moves back slightly, running a hand through his hair as he gazes down at you, a mix of pride and desire evident in his eyes as he looks at your fucked out state.

“Wait shit, I don't know if i have a condom,” Yunho says, worried as he ruffles through his bedside table, not able to find any.

“Wait really?” you question, not even the slightest bit worried about him not having a condom, in fact you almost try to hide your excitement, “it’s okay.”

“What?”

“We don't need it, I'm on the pill.” You exclaim, pulling him by his hand closer to you, so he sits on the bed next to you.

Yunho is taken aback by your boldness, yet he finds it extremely hard to hide his excitement. The low groan that escapes his lips doesn't go unnoticed by you, further fueling the growing intensity of the moment. Yunho looks up at you, his eyes dark as he studies your face for any form of discomfort. When he doesn't see any, he almost moans at the thought of finishing inside of you. “Fuck, baby. You're going to be the death of me.”

The second Yunho removes his boxers, your mouth is almost watering at the sight of his length. Not only is he long, but he is girthy, standing tall. Your mouth hangs slightly open as you take in the sight. You can feel your pussy throbbing at the thought of how well he is going to stretch you out.

“Like what you see?” Just like that, the caring Yunho is once again replaced with the cocky Yunho that you just love.

Instead of firing the bratty comment that is on the tip of your tongue, you simply nod your head, too overcome with the need for him to just destroy you.

Yunho leans over you again, spreading your legs wide to fit right between them, he takes his time rubbing up and down your slit, gathering your arousal to lube himself up. Your whines and whimpers are like music to his ears, and he doesn't know if he can ever get enough of you like this.

Lining up with your entrance, he takes his time to gently slide just the tip in, causing you to gasp lightly. Yunho buries his head into your neck, biting his lip as he attempts to maintain his composure. He knows he needs to take it slow in order to not hurt you, but the way you are clenching around him has his mind spinning with arousal.

He gets back up, his intense gaze watching your every expression as he eases himself in, going at a steady pace. The sting is definitely present and you squint at the light pain.

“Deep breaths, beautiful. You’re doing so well.”

You grab his toned arms as he pushes himself further in, his own breaths getting shallow as he feels your warm walls envelop his length.

‘Stay focused, Yunho,’ he thinks to himself, over and over, desperately trying to keep his composure, yet it proves more difficult by every passing second that your tight pussy sucks him in.

Pleasure surges through you but the only thing you are able to focus on is how full you feel. Your breath catches in your throat and you tense up as he gradually bottoms out, groaning, "So big."

“Yeah, does it feel good?” Yunho’s voice is raspy as he cages you in his arms, his eyes scanning your face.

“So good… please move.” is all you manage to say.

Yunho starts with some slow, teasing thrusts dragging his cock out before pushing it back in and it has you mewling out in pleasure.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” Yunho chokes out, his sanity practically gone as he feels your tight walls hugging his cock so nicely.

The beautiful sight of him on top of you, sweaty and lust ridden has you moaning and clenching around his cock. Wrapping your arms tightly around his strong back, your nails dig into his skin as he increases his pace.

"Does this feel good, pretty?"

You are only able to manage out a moan of approval, letting him know, yes, he is doing good. Yunho chuckles against your skin as you let out noises of pleasure, every one spurring him on and making him desperate to make you finish again. In a purposeful movement, Yunho leans his hips back slightly, so his cock is angled in a way where it hits your g spot perfectly with every thrust. Yunho knows he has found it the second your words and moan become a mixed blabbing mess, with this he smirks. He almost doesn't want to stop, he is having too much fun with you.

Yunho grunts as he starts thrusting even faster, his hand coming down to flick your clit, needing you to come on his cock. He needs you to finish before him.

You feel your orgasm approaching fast, and Yunho can tell by the way you clench and claw at his arms, pulling him down to lock him in a heated kiss, he swallows your moans and whimpers happily.

Yunho pulls away from your swollen lips to bury his face in your neck, whispering praise into your ear.

“Who is making you feel this good, doll?” he whispers in his deep voice, “do you want to cumm, pretty girl? Be a good girl and cum on my big dick, I know you want to.”

The coil in your belly tightens even more, your legs starting to shake around him as you moan out his name pathetically.

“That’s it, beautiful, milk my cock dry.”

“Need to cum,”

Yunho’s chest tightens at the desperate tone in your voice and for a moment, he knows he is definitely able to get used to your desperate whines.

“Go ahead, baby cum for me, let the whole neighbourhood know how good I’m making you feel.”

That's all it takes for the coil in your stomach to snap, and your orgasm hits you hard. Intense pleasure ripples through you like tsunami waves, shaking your whole body and making your toes curl as your fingernails dig into his arms. The sensation overwhelms you as your world narrows down to the electrifying connection you share with Yunho.

Yunho follows in suit, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside of you, his choked swears and moans in your ear as he wraps his strong arms around you, securing you in a tight embrace as the two of you ride out your orgasms.

After a few moments of silence, the only sounds to be heard in the room are the deep inhales and exhales of you and Yunho, the two of you lost in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. The intimacy lingers in the air, wrapping around you like a warm, comfortable blanket.

Yunho gently sits up, his arms shaky as he tries to regain his composure. A layer of sweat covers his face, and even in the low light of his room, you think he looks absolutely handsome. His dishevelled hair and flushed cheeks only add to his charm, and you can't help but admire him as he catches his breath.

Slowly, he pulls out, his seed spilling out of your swollen hole, a sight which has Yunho getting hard once again, yet he pushes the thoughts to the side and quickly rushes to the bathroom to grab a washcloth for you.

You can't help but feel a wave of insecurity and vulnerability as Yunho steps away to fetch the washcloth. The moment he disappears from your sight, a rush of unease washes over you, and tears begin to pool in your eyes. You never expected this level of intimacy, and now, seeing him leave even briefly, you fear he might be having second thoughts.

When he returns with the washcloth, he immediately notices the glistening tears in your eyes. Panic sets in, and he rushes to your side, cradling you in his arms.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Did I do something to upset you?"

You sniffle and shake your head. "I'm sorry. I thought you disappeared for good, and I got scared."

Yunho's expression softens as he caresses your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear. "Oh, baby, I would never do that. I promise you, I'm here for you. I'm so sorry for putting that thought in your mind."

He holds you close, offering the warmth and comfort you desperately need, reassuring you that he's not going anywhere.

“Yunho?” You look towards Yunho, whose gaze is already set on you with an affectionate gaze. Tenderly, he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, and a sense of comfort washes over you.

Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, murmuring, "Yes, baby?"

Your heart flutters at the endearment as you continue, "What are we?"

Yunho raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a warm smile. He knew this question was coming, and he's more than prepared to answer. "Well, if you'll have me, I'd love to be your nerdy boyfriend."

A surge of happiness fills you, and you can't hold back your grin. "Only if you'll have me as your 'not so nerdy' girlfriend?"

Yunho chuckles and cups your face with his hands, sealing the moment with a sweet kiss. "Deal," he whispers against your lips, his arms wrapping even harder around you, securing you in a warm embrace.

“Let’s clean you up, pretty.”

—

“Sitting in Professor Turner's office, you're feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Yunho is right beside you, his presence giving you comfort and assurance. Professor Turner, the mentor you deeply respect, and her opinion matters greatly to you. You've been working tirelessly to improve your grades, and this is the moment of reckoning. To tell whether you are going to be expelled or not.

Professor Turner reviews your recent exam results, and you can't help but glance at Yunho. He's been your constant support, helping you study, explaining complex concepts, and motivating you to push your limits. There's a fond smile on his face, his warm eyes reflecting his pride in your accomplishments.

Finally, Professor Turner finishes her review and looks up at you with an encouraging smile. "I don't know how you did it, but your grades have not only improved, they have excelled. You are somehow one of the best in my class right now."

Your heart swells with pride as you realise the significance of her words. Tears fill your eyes and you feel the heavy weight that has been on your heart for months finally lift.

Yunho's proud smile widens, and the love in his eyes grows even more apparent. You feel a deep sense of accomplishment and happiness, knowing that with his help and your dedication, you've managed to exceed your own expectations and impress one of your most respected professors.

You look over at Yunho, gratitude shining in your eyes, and say,

"Well, I had an amazing tutor."

{i didnt proof read this, so if you see mistakes i apologise, im very tired}

#ateez smut #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #yunho #yunho smut #yunho ateez #yunho x reader #yunho au

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saiidahyunie · 3 months

Text

pole position

f1 racer!park jihyo x fem!reader || smut

synopsis: what better way to celebrate your racer girlfriend’s first f1 win with a special victory gift from you.

wc: 9.3k

warnings: smut!!! ; almost caught fucking in the van (and elevator) >.< ; edging ; thigh riding ; pussy slapping ; cursing ; mentions of food ; jihyo just being a top ; anything else i should add for a heads up?

a/n: happy birthday to the best leader and one of the most ambitious women i have ever seen in my life. (lowk double triple quadrouple tag teaming w sana momo tzuyu and mina in bias wrecking me)

it seemed like a neverending rush of adrenaline overloading your senses.

luckily, the racing team had accommodated you with noise canceling headphones to save your eardrums from the chaotic noises occurring in the paddock behind you. the low whir of these twenty million spaceship rockets built for the ground to defy physics, along with the many people clamoring over the noises of drills and terms you’ve only heard about for about eight months.

yet, your eyes were glued to the tv screen, watching the broadcast of the race as it neared its thrilling conclusion.

you’ve read the narrative before; park jihyo, your girlfriend, was on the verge of clinching her first ever world championship title for jyp racing in the last race of the regular season. all she needed was to accumulate a few more points and she would have it—or better yet, just win the whole damn race entirely.

on the screen, her car was behind two others in front of her, twisting past another chicane before the track rolled out into a small straight in the second sector of the street circuit. this was the second to last lap, and you could hear the crowd roar in excitement from the grandstands across from you.

in a swift move, jihyo manages to find a gap between the two cars, slotting herself right in to take first position in the long straight. the wheel to wheel contact between other two racers now in her rear view mirror now making up for lost time while jihyo was now running away with the race.

“holy shit!” you hear one of the racing team owners yell out after witnessing the flashy move jihyo did to overtake the two racers in front of her.

“she’s gonna do it oh my god, she’s gonna fucking do it!” nayeon says to you, furiously tapping your shoulder while jeongyeon ran towards the screen to see what had happened.

“what a ballsy move, the racing coaches are losing their shit over it!” jeongyeon yells out as the sound of her car zooms past the grandstand and paddock at light speed.

the other two racers, momo and sana, along with the fourth just trailing behind in tzuyu, were now fighting for second and third. you walk back to the tv screen overhanging the spot where the car was at before the start of the race, seeing that jihyo was following along her own driving line with so much precision—she had the fastest time in qualifying the day before, so there was no surprise that she’d be in first place at the end of all of this.

the pit crew members start to run out to the main track, cheering on for jihyo as she zooms past the starting grid, checkered flag waving from the steward while the whole venue erupted in excitement for their new f1 racing champion.

a victory lap later and you see jihyo with the other three trailing racers make it back to the grid, getting out of her car being mauled by the pit crew members and camera workers. she takes her helmet off, along with the brace that keeps her attached to her seat, waving her hair that was glistening in the lights, making her more ethereal to look at than she already was in that racing uniform.

momo and sana walk up to her, exchanging kind regards and joking amongst each other of how well they each did up until the last quarter miles on the track.

“y/n!”

you turn your head to see tzuyu, jihyo's racing teammate approach you. she’s been a really close friend with you, nayeon, and jeongyeon before she started racing in f1. you and her actually were on the same racing team back in your days with f2, before stepping away from the racing scene entirely to prioritize on other things that needed cultivating.

“that was some nice driving in your second year of competing tzu.” you say, hugging her tightly as nayeon and jeongyeon jumped at you two in the tender moment.

tzuyu raises her helmet in the air, smiling at the crowd as well as the surrounding people near you two before being swept away by her racing team pit crew, “i’ll see you guys at the after party!”

“ahh i’m so excited!” nayeon exclaims, walking past momo and sana’s cars towards jihyo's, who was still getting a well of congratulations from fellow drivers. a guard whispering in her ear that makes her head turn to you three approaching her. a smile is spread across her face as you begin to start running toward your girlfriend.

she sets her helmet in the cockpit of her car, running at the same pace like yours before she jumps into your arms, spinning her around for a second while getting high on the scent of her hair filling your nose. jihyo meets your eye, the small height difference due to her being lifted off the ground by you before leaning in for a well deserved kiss to commemorate her victory.

“congrats babe, you’re officially an f1 champion.” you mumble against her lips, smiling into the kiss more, not giving any mind to the flashing cameras catching you two.

setting her down for another hug, she’s laughing, tears in her eyes, just clearly enjoying the moment that still hasn’t hit her yet.

“oh my god- oh my god.” jihyo chokes out, running her hand through her hair as the noise of the cheers completely drowns everything out.

once everything had calmed down and everyone on the grid had migrated to the podium part that was off the track, you stood to the side along with nayeon and jeongyeon—along with the pit crew members as you watched jihyo raise the trophy to mark the illustrious ending to a fantastic racing season. she’s handed a bottle of champagne that she pops open, spraying it in the crowd below and along with momo and sana, who both finished second and third respectively.

a perfect night indeed, all it needed was the after party activities.

“what am i supposed to do against the fact that jihyo’s car is just a couple seconds faster than mine?” tzuyu asks, walking alongside you with your hands snaked around jihyo’s waist. she was out of her racing attire, wearing a sleek cropped leather racing jacket that showed off her midriff so well and apparently to you–the jacket was part of a new collaboration that she was a part of but didn’t say what it was about.

“it’s not the car, it’s the driver’s intuition to read the track and find the best line for yourself possible.” jihyo says, dropping a hint of knowledge to tzuyu who closes her eyes, accepting the information without putting up an argument.

“y/n would’ve been your rival if she got the call up to one of the other racing teams.”

you eye jihyo who looks down with her eyes closed, a small dimple peeking through that gives you an urge to kiss her cheek impulsively, gripping her side while doing so. it had been a while since you and jihyo had quality time to spend together. now that the season is pretty much over, nothing could hold you back to being with her–no early morning team meetings, no racing sim sessions, just you and jihyo together.

“if i did that, i wouldn’t have met jihyo in the first place.” you say to tzuyu, jihyo tapping your shoulder, blushing at the notion of you being a possible racer going against her, but luckily that wasn’t the case since you were already a long way out from getting a shot for a racing team.

“we could be rivals to lovers if you wanted to! you should’ve! you would’ve made some solid competition.” jihyo says to you, tapping your shoulder again, making you pull her waist closer to you that gets her flustered.

jihyo was reeled in by the way you were adamant with how you showed your affection towards her. those quick glances before entering the cockpit before the race, and even both of your guys’ lockscreens shared a picture of you kissing her helmet as a sign for good luck—knowing that you were already proud of her for what she’s accomplished so far.

intimate moments were always special with jihyo, but since she was now a big time racer and you had her slip under your race lights, she had little to no time for you since this was a make or break season for her racing career–luckily enough, she saw it through in the end.

“i think if i were to race for a team, it would have to be with jihyo, not against.” you chuckle at the end as the five of you reach a designated car that was assigned to take you guys for a post race meal that left your stomachs rumbling.

“y/n and i call the backseats!” jihyo yells out, hand snaking to your hips before she grabs your hand to enter in the fourth row of the van. everyone else followed suit to take the seats in front of you two once inside.

if there was anything about jihyo that you were aware of, it was that the moment you incited anything sexual with her, it would always lead to disaster.

clearly, you had a thing for disasters.

the last time you and jihyo had time to yourselves was after the monaco grand prix. you and her had an argument before the race that lit a fire under jihyo because of how sexually frustrated you became—this caused jihyo to finish on the podium which was a much needed placement in second just behind momo. if she finished third or below, it would’ve put her out of championship contention until the next couple races before las vegas.

after the race, jihyo completely ignored her teams celebratory dinner because she needed to set you straight for getting her horny in a do or die situation. needless to say the morning after, she was well relieved knowing that she fucked you good like there was no tomorrow.

since then, you two haven’t hooked up since—that was three months ago.

the van strolls down the street, the bright lights of the casinos and hotels illuminating through the windows, passing small rays of light to each row evenly.

jihyo catches you through the side of her eye, leaning over for a quick peck to your cheek that makes you giddy, her smiling lips against your face as she pulls you closer, pulling your face away before she could get her lips on them again.

“you’re so concentrated on me now, are you sure you didn’t think about me while you were on the track?” you ask playfully.

jihyo shakes her head, hands still hooking to your waist, forehead against your cap as she laughs again.

“hey, i don’t want to see you guys do anything funny back there.” jeongyeon warns, the light from her phone screen flashed towards you two, causing you to put your hands up to block it.

“we’re not jeong,” jihyo laughs out, grinning at the pair of eyes staring at her in the darkness. “i just missed my girlfriend, that's all.”

“you two have been extra touchy since we got in the car, i’m sure something’s going on.”

“why don’t you just focus on giving directions to the driver for dinner?” you blurt out, tossing your cap towards the front of the car, accidentally hitting nayeon in the back of the head.

“ow! what the hell was that for?!” nayeon yells out, clutching the back of her head in pain.

“sorry, it’s dark in here.” jihyo adds, the whole car laughing out before calming down just seconds later.

you lean back on the seat, eyes on jihyo again. feasting on the eye candy next to you with the racer jacket in all of its glory. her top just stopped a little bit before her abs that were clearly present, the small belly button piercing gleaming in the darkness from the light reflected off of it. you were staring, but jihyo knew that she was attractive.

jihyo scoots next to you, snaking your arm around her hip, nestling herself on your chest and closing her eyes after, descending into the seat more.

“you know,” you whisper to her ear, “i gave the recommendation to put you on the medium soft tires at around lap 30.”

jihyo looks up at you, astounded with what you said, “i was wondering why my car was feeling a little bit lighter after that pit stop.”

you hum against her temple, planting another kiss, “you wanted to keep the hard tires? just make it harder for yourself?”

she chuckles softly, fingers sliding on your neck as every touch that was grazed on your skin felt like electricity to you.

“maybe you wanted something softer…” tension suddenly giving way through your hooded eyes.

jihyo picks up on this and she knows.

“are you talking about soft tires or?”

“i’m talking about this.” you answer her with a whisper, leading her hand under your shirt, only for jihyo to realize that you weren’t wearing a bra under at all that makes her gasp in surprise.

“someone’s a little bold today.” jihyo mutters against your ear, sending chills down your spine as she fondles with your left boob for a bit, pinching the bud of your nipple as the neediness crept through your body like wildfire.

“aren’t you gonna show me how to handle this?” you ask, kissing her temple again before nibbling on her earlobe, jihyo stifling a moan by biting her lip to keep quiet. “i know you want the same thing to happen like in monaco, and you’re gonna give it to me.” you order in her ear.

jihyo was a ticking time bomb when it came to moments like these. the only thing that was on your mind now was how long could she hold out until you two reach the hotel room?

jihyo slides her hand down from your waist to the button of your pants, undoing it with ease with her fingers that makes you giggle a bit, impressed with her sleight of hand.

“don’t tell me you’re not wearing panties under here too?” she whispers in your ear, answering her own question when the pads of her fingertips feeling the lacy piece of garments below, realizing that this wasn’t a usual pair that you wore.

“a little something for you, but you’re gonna have to wait till we get to the suite.” you mumble victoriously—a big mistake as jihyo slides her two fingers over your pulsing core, causing your breath to hitch from the contact, closing your legs a bit to prolong the sensation a little bit more before jihyo stops at your clit.

“let’s not get caught now shall we?”

you were breathless, in the back of a van, with people in front of you, and your girlfriend teasing you at the tips of her fingers—all of this was your doing in the first place.

“jih–fuck you’re—”

“you know how fast our cars were going, imagine if you were against the crash fence and the wind sweeps under?”

this woman, will be the death of you.

“don’t get me tempted now, you still have something for me to show later right?” jihyo mutters against your neck before sliding down to your soaked panties, seamlessly pulling it to the side before slipping a finger in your pussy that makes you gasp out loudly.

“everything okay back there?”

you place your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet from moaning, jihyo lets out an ‘uhh’ before answering, “y/n just dropped something here, i’m picking it up.” a clear lie as she continues her long middle finger inside you, hips gyrating to add more spice to the movement that’s keeping your lips parted.

“so pretty for me…” jihyo licks your neck, making your shiver in the seat, “when you’re like this.”

fuck, this was going a lot more better than you expected.

the soft heavy, breaths fill the cushioned interior of the van as it drives in the late night. jihyo was unrelenting by stimulating you, rubbing your cilt in addition to her finger pumping inside. your pulsing is starting to quicken at your core, thighs slightly shaking knowing that your high was nearing, but you used everything you had to not let that happen.

jihyo realizes this, and she too wants this to be saved for later. so she slips her hand out from your panties, perfect timing as the van reaches its destination—a shabu place that was recommended by nayeon. mouths needed to be fed, but yours and jihyo’s were craving for a different meal in mind.

as the van pulls up to the parking lot, jihyo jumps at you in the seat, lips crashing against hers. you cup her cheeks, jihyo’s hands get tangled in your hair, both of you are matching the same energy and destitution. tongues swiping each other like a sword fight, gripping her leather jacket as your other hand snakes to her neck.

she’s fast, she’s needy and my god you need her to be like this with you more often.

you two hear the van stop in parking gear, and jihyo pulls away, looking towards the front to see that everyone in the rows ahead were starting to get their stuff and head outside. the both of you sit up, hands scrambling to have everything look presentable to the best extent before stepping out.

jihyo exits the van, letting out a sigh while meeting with nayeon, jeongyeon, and tzuyu outside.

“what happened with y/n?” tzuyu asks at the sight of you stepping out, cheeks clearly stained with a blush of pink, hair tosuled with your hat at an angle, and the worst part of all, your pants were unbuttoned for the whole world to see.

“oh, she just got a little car sick, that's all.” jihyo replies swiftly, making you lean over to sell the act. “i don’t think we’ll be able to eat with you guys tonight.”

the small group groans out, unhappy with the shock announcement as you faked a clear cough, grasping at your stomach with one eye closed.

“sorry guys,” you huff out. “i think being in the back row was a terrible idea for us.”

terrible. you’re clearly mistaken, it was the best fucking idea to nearly get caught by your closest friends in a moving car getting edged to oblivion.

“alright, we’ll see you back at the airport y/n, make sure you get some rest.” nayeon says, patting your shoulder in comfort while faked being woozy, nearly losing your balance. jihyo catches you, letting out a small laugh once she set up upright.

“so silly of you to be on your phone the entire ride baby.” jihyo coos out, rubbing your face, enjoying the pampering that she’s giving you with both of her hands tapping your cheeks.

“can we go now?” you say, tugging at jihyo’s racer jacket with the most babyish face you could ever pull out of your ass—all for the lie you think, but jihyo plays along just well.

“okay okay, we’ll see you guys soon okay?!” jihyo asks the trio of girls in front of you guys, waving as the both of you walk back to the van.

“get better y/nnnnn!” tzuyu yells out before you wave back at them with both eyes closed, jihyo escorting you to the seat before mashing her face with yours again.

“such,” jihyo mumbles against your cheek, “a naughty girl for me.” pulling away with an audible smooch.

“you wanted your gift? i think you’ll like what i have for you.”

“i can hardly wait.”

jihyo’s assault on your body picks up right where it left off on the swift ride back to the hotel. luckily, your chauffeur was walled off in the front of the car with a soundproof window that was rolled all the way up—this meant the moans you’ve been holding back earlier could now be let out to its fullest content to jihyo’s ears with ease.

she starts by pinning you on the chair, hands snaking up under your shirt to clasp at your breasts. her hands weren’t the biggest, but they fit on your chest oh so perfectly as she massages them, earning another moan through your lips against hers.

“fuck ji–ah!”

“shhh, save it for the room baby.”

oh she’s getting you race ready. i mean, that’s the name of her game after all.

your lips clash again, hands splayed on her back, stripping the unreleased racer jacket off of her to reveal a simple black tank top underneath—a tight fitted one that made jihyo’s boobs a lot more bigger than they originally were. this catches your eye, causing to pull away, biting her lip and tugging at it as your hands slide up against the skimpy fabric keeping her boobs hostage.

“my my world champ, you had these under your uniform and jacket the whole time?”

“i know you love my boobs baby, they’re always there for you to grab a feel.”

indulging was something that you were always good at, jihyo just waved the green flag for you to slide your hands up even further, thumbs bruising over her clothed nipple as you heard her breath hitch at the slightest touch at them.

despite laying on the seat, you found it paramount to return the same sort of pleasure in your position to jihyo as much as you could, leaning up to plant your lips at her neck, slightly nibbling at it while your hands kept themselves occupied by massaging her tits.

“ngh, y/n baby…” jihyo says, her head dips even deeper next to yours, continuing to mark her up, making up for lost time like her qualifying races to get the highest placement before race day.

“let me work you up too, relax.” you groan against her neck, causing her to whimper at the feeling of your lips sliding down her neck to the outfaced bone of her clavicle. while that was happening, you lift your leg up, shifting it over to her ass, your thigh pressing against her core through her jean shorts, making her moan against your ear that might’ve made you cum right then and there from the sound.

jihyo then stops you from sucking away from her neck to the point that she might have to have a better cover when her race coach kangin asks about it the next time she sees him, tapping your shoulder to lay your head back, crashing her lips with yours again, pecking left and right until the van does sudden stops and turns.

the both of you start to sit up, jihyo having the higher position, looking at the window to only realize that they’ve made it back to the hotel that you and her were staying at. she gets off of your body, grabbing her racing jacket and zipping it up to cover the action that was happening below her neck as damage control.

you fix your appearance as well, fixing your shirt and hat to make it look more presentable once the van comes to a complete stop and the both of you calm down from the second round of ‘whatever the hell this game of playing: who’s gonna break first from kissing, sucking, and getting the other person horny first’ stepping out of the van and into the lobby with hands twined with each others.

you’ve watched jihyo zoom past the track during the qualifying race the day prior to get first place against the nineteen best drivers in the world, but this woman who's leading you by the hand through the hotel lobby might have just set a new record full stop with how fast the two of you walked from the van to the elevator in record time.

if you were to look back at this night and one were to ask what happened on the way to the room? you’d say that it’s the vaguest gray area in your memory that you’ve probably had ever really. you and jihyo share a laugh at you almost slipping in your chunky converse shoes in contrast to jihyo’s boots, her hand on your waist while yours was hovering just above her butt. the elevator greeted you with no visitors–a perfect setting for the prelude of tonight’s prime time events that you’ve waited for so long.

“so no more races for the time being right?” you ask jihyo, her back turned to yours tapping on the panel to the floor of your room.

“for now, but i do want to have a joyride session on that track outside the city.” jihyo answers, scratching her head now facing you, before you pull her in for a hug, jihyo shifts herself again so that she’s now facing the elevator door.

the metal box continues to ascend up slowly to the level–the highest level of the hotel to be exact, all part of your plan to keep jihyo’s motor running.

jihyo exhales out, a hint of tiredness peeking as she rubs your hand with her thumb, humming along with the soft jazzy music that was coming out of the small speaker on the top right of the elevator wall. you lean your head to her right side, blowing air to the side of her face that makes her chuckle at the intimate action.

“you know,” you whisper, “i overhead that you were almost told to give the position back to momo after backing out on her challenge on turn 11.”

“but i didn’t.” jihyo replies, “the officials looked over that contact play thoroughly and i just kept my ground. sana caught up to us though and eventually i fell behind after oversteering one corner.”

“and you still won.” you say, pressing a kiss to her neck.

jihyo sighs out after closing her eyes, and she might just fall asleep with you right then and there.

“since you didn’t give up the position, i’ll give you something else.” you mumble against her ear, hands snaking up to hold her tits under her jacket.

“oh? and what that might be that you plan on giving me?”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at her oblivious question, playing along to your act in this whole script that was devised in your head, a perfect ending–consider this to be the ninth symphony of beethoven’s repertoire.

jihyo was five lights away glowing red and you pushed the crushing blow–the green light that jihyo has been waiting for all night.

“i’ll give you my lips.”

jihyo smiles with her teeth out to the world behind you, turning you around, lips on yours again for what seems to be the infinite time tonight, but this lip lock was more serious. pure lust had taken over jihyo like the adrenaline that rushed in her veins while racing earlier.

your back makes contact with the wall behind you, her leg slots itself in between yours, pressing against your core as a get back for the same thing you did to her in the van, earning a moan into her lips that just simply upped the ante within jihyo.

she pulls away eyes hooded, breaths matching together and they’re fucking heavy. the pace was overwhelming to jihyo’s resurgence in sexual frustration—to be fair, you were the one to start things in the first place so this shouldn’t come as a shock to you.

in a millisecond of being off guard, jihyo forces herself on you, pinning your wrists to the wall, whining at the sudden grip your girlfriend was giving you, her mouth slashing at the new territory claimed with her tongue leading the charge.

retreating with a ‘pop’ of the lips, followed by another quick peck with a slight tug at the end before making her way down to your neck for another bombardment of marks awaiting your flesh.

“j-jihyo, y-y-you—fuck!”

a clear ‘mmph’ could be heard as jihyo sucks away at your neck, smiling against it as she develops a steady rhythm. a bite here followed by a suck, and another bite followed by a second suck to soothe it.

“you gave me the green light, so don’t back down now.” jihyo mutters against your neck, the scent of your expensive perfume filling her nose and taste buds.

letting out a laugh with a moan mixed into your vocal chords, jihyo continued her work for what seemed like ages, only for her to stop to kiss you again as the elevator dings loudly, indicating that you two have reached the level that your hotel room was at. jihyo steps away from you, leaning back a bit to admire the damage that she had inflicted upon your face and neck—for now.

she then takes your hand, leading to where your room was a few steps away from the lounging area that was across from the set of elevators. you catch a couple glimpses of your reflections and you smile at your devious but perfectly executed plan.

your hat was the only thing covering your disheveled hair, lips were puffy swollen, and the marks. the marks. ‘jesus christ’ was the thought exactly at the sight of your neck being spread evenly out with red and the appearance definitely made you feel the way that it should.

a quick swift of the keycard over the lock and you usher jihyo inside the room that you two were staying at. housekeeping did their handiwork cleaning up the room; the king size bed neatly made with all of the assorted bags left untouched on the right side where the tv was hanging.

jihyo slides off her racer jacket, setting it on the chair while you went to the bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit while jihyo relaxed on the edge of the bed, discarding her boots by kicking them off under the desk. she then leans back, her head looking up to the ceiling above, her eyes closed in complete relaxation after a full day of logistical racing from the moment she got up from the bed this morning.

surely that team dinner would be postponed until probably tomorrow given how tired jihyo was, right?

(that tiredness would suddenly wash away when you stepped out the bathroom.)

she sees you leaning against the wall, nothing except the lacy panties that jihyo felt back in the van earlier on the way to the shabu place. your back was arching away from the wall with your ass still pressed against it, forming a figure in the low light emulating from the lamp behind.

this image of you in front of jihyo had her salivating, lips parted with a small creeping beneath it as you made your way to the bed’s edge. her hands wrapping around your exposed waist, with your hands nestling themselves at her neck. jihyo was still speechless, eyes widened to the max while you prompted her hands to roam freely as they pleased–now with the proper privacy, there was nothing holding her back from ravishing you.

“somebody’s a little preoccupied.”

jihyo looks up at you, her pupils dilated at the sight of you towering over her for a moment.

“fuck you’re so pretty.” jihyo responds, leaving a chaste kiss to your midsection, arms pulling you closer to her so that she can indulge more in your body.

there’s something about the way her hands move, finding the right spots across your abs and back for you to let out a hitched breath or a sound of approval from your lips, lightly nipping away at the skin that was left unmarked from earlier on the way back that wasn’t your neck or face. her reactions were stupid fast when it came to racing, but now she was taking her time. scouting the valleys and curves on your body, just below your breasts.

“who said that you could stop?” you giggled, initiating a squeeze from jihyo the second after, feeling your perky mounds to her own volition.

“can’t believe you’re so perfect for me like this.” jihyo husks out, eliciting a soft moan to leave your mouth, dipping your head to give a kiss on the top of her head. you then tap her shoulders twice, stopping her movements. stepping away to get something from the mini fridge that was hidden away next to the main dresser, a bottle of rare champagne that would probably be worth half of jihyo’s salary, so you bought it under her name for this special occasion.

“aw for me?” jihyo pouts, “if this was your celebratory gift i think we should just call it a night then.”

“obviously not,” you say, “what do you take me as?”

“i don’t know, maybe you’re just a stranger who’s staying in my room with me.”

“we’re celebrating your first world championship, just with my own little twist to it.” you respond, cracking the bottle open and handing her a glass that was filled to the brim for her to drink.

“uh y/n, you know i can’t finish this right?”

“oh i know,” you say, “i just have other uses for that.” jihyo then takes a quick swig of the rare-aged champagne, sighing out after downing nearly half the glass in one gulp, giving it back for you to finish the rest before placing it down on the table.

jihyo doesn’t pick up on this until the very last second, the sight of you straddling her with the bottle of champagne, her hands finding themselves holding you at the hips. you lean down for another lip lock with jihyo again, her fingers clutching down your pelvis trying to get something started. the heat is rushing down all over your body, a growing sensation from below building up, it took everything in your body to not feed into jihyo’s desire.

you pull away to see jihyo’s dilated pupils, yours was doing the same. the heavy breaths were not helping as the tension rose in the space between you two once again. you give her another kiss before leaning back, raising the bottle a little bit over your chest, spilling the expensive alcohol over your body. jihyo doesn’t react to this either, she was too attracted to your image at the moment–the marks on the neck and chest, the way you were above jihyo with a gaze that made you ten-thousand times hotter than she initially thought. it was an overload, but you finally gave her the edging push that broke down her self control.

“taste me baby, i need to be cleaned up anyway…”

jihyo doesn’t hesitate for a single second, diving right in immediately after you said that, dragging her tongue across your chest, before kissing in between the middle part where your cleavage was. bathing in sweet champagne wasn’t an idea you were forward with, but clearly jihyo was loving the whole act you were putting on for her.

“fuck jihyo–ah!” you moaned out while jihyo gave out satisfying lick after satisfying lick, leaving no spot open. she then changes the ante, taking your erected nipple and closing her mouth over it.

she continues this for a couple more minutes, a trail of pecks across your body as jihyo continues to mark her territory.

“is this ‘mmph–” jihyo mumbles in between kisses, “my prize?”

“i’m all yours for tonight hyo, ruin me.”

jihyo scans your body once more, deciding what to do first with you before instinctively forcing your hips down to her thigh. your core making contact with the skin that makes you yelp in surprise. this also didn’t help that jihyo lifted her leg up a bit, shifting your hips in a back and forth motion that makes you groan–longing for more, biting your lip as jihyo revels at the heavenly sounds that she’s hearing.

“you like grinding your pussy on my thigh like that baby?”

“jihyo you’re such a–”

she shuts you up with a kiss, making you release a low whimper as you grind against her toned leg with your clothed cunt.

“keep moving and don’t stop.”

fuck.

your eyes catch jihyo licking her first two fingers, placing it upright against her leg where your pussy was making contact, sliding along your folds through the fabric—hips buckling at the angle that she made her fingers curve a bit, teasing you till the very end.

“you really want me inside that badly huh?” jihyo asks, the neediness clouding your head at the sound of her low voice. “so fucking wet for me after your little stunt in the van?”

yeah, you’re so fucked tonight.

jihyo raises her middle finger above the others as the throbbing doubles in an instant. your head leans back as jihyo kisses your clavicle—your senses now overloading as you rode her finger which were now ripping away at you, her other hand moving your hips, shaky breaths petering out while jihyo circles your clit.

she watches you with a feasting intent, the lust oozing through as you fuck yourself on her thigh, unclasping her bra with just one hand while keeping her eyes on you. she then positions her thumb where your clit was landing, now pressing against it when you’re dragging your hips on her

“fuck fuck fuck–”

“yeah, i know you couldn’t resist fucking my fingers.”

“god, jihyo you– shit”

“mhm,” jihyo hums out, “you’re so close baby.”

you curse out, basically shouting to nearby hotel guests staying on the floor. the words wobbling out of your mouth as jihyo worked your lower body. the desperation was there—all jihyo just needed to was force it out of you, in this case she did. you squirmed under her touch, gasping at the sensation with your stomach churning away in pleasure.

jihyo withdraws her hand away from the problem that’s bothering you between your legs, making you whine, the sound almost like a confused kid that got their toy taken away after being in trouble. snickering at your act, you slap her shoulders lightly, playfully complaining as jihyo kisses you again to calm down.

“you’re so-”

“i’m giving you what you want, no? jihyo goes for another kiss.

she isn’t wrong.

“i thought you said that you were going to be my special present for tonight?”

you nod.

“that’s what i thought, now relax for me babe.”

god. you are so done for.

the pillows behind jihyo are met with your back against them, switching the places between you two as she crawls up your body, her knees between your legs as she leaned down for another kiss, hair getting tangled through your fingers, jihyo continuing her assault on your face and body with her lips.

“i’m gonna treat you good okay?”

you whimper in agreement, nodding your head as jihyo lowers her gaze, a smirk plowing through as she runs her hand on your face, cheeks flooded hot pink, placing her lips on your neck again before trailing down your body very slowly.

jihyo is satisfied with how you are under her touch, but she always, always wants more for herself. her lips find themselves on your breasts again like earlier, returning the attention to your nipples while massaging your soft mounds. she knows that you’re gonna give into her desires—there’s no point in putting up a fight against her (you did the same thing to her back in monaco, but now the roles were reversed.)

mindlessly putting a hand to the back of her head, jihyo notes this, canvassing your body with her lips in every corner that she could possibly touch. she’d seen you model for underwear brands and daily outfits of the day on your instagram page, but when it came to the bed, jihyo memorized every soft spot there was to discover–she knew how to push your buttons and it showed.

“you know what i want.” you’re practically begging for jihyo at this point.

she happily hums out, ready to fufill the obligation. leaving your boobs down to your waist, trailing lower and lower. you try to look away, eyes shut from the sensing danger—the need to be everso fulfilled immediately. there’s a pause for a few seconds as jihyo hooks her hands to the tops of your thighs, staring at the underwear that you were weaning.

and you just had to look up.

you see her eyes filled with so much lust between your pulsing core, placing a kiss on your inner thigh, shuddering at the contact of her lips, inching closer to the middle, but she stops again with a smirk and you are left breathless.

“i didn’t know you were wearing the unreleased pair today.”

“you still have to post your announcement tomorrow, so i had to remind you somehow.”

jihyo looks away, keeping her eyes on you, rather impressed at the effort you made, especially in a scenario like this.

“i have an idea for the picture already, but i’m gonna need this back.”

her fingers found the elastic waistband of the lacy calvin klein underwear that was keeping your pussy hostage from jihyo’s lips, pulling it down slightly, but it was what she did next that made everything in your body race.

she pulls it down a little bit past your upper thigh, grabbing it with her teeth and pulling it away, her hands sliding down your legs as well in one smooth motion. the satisfaction clearly seen in her eyes once the panties were tossed off to somewhere in the room that won’t be found until sometime in the morning.

this totally won’t come back to haunt you later, right?

you didn’t have to say anything, jihyo makes her way up your inner thighs again, the trail of kisses approaching the sensitive spot as she takes in the aroma of your sex, getting drunk in the sensation of it before placing a kiss to your wetness.

“shit.” you mumble, your teeth catching your lip. whatever worries you had about earlier today or the flight you’re taking back home tomorrow, none of that mattered as jihyo’s instinct to please herself by having you destroyed was all that mattered. jihyo grunts against your heat, the vibrations from your cunt bucking your hips from the contact as her tongue lashes mercilessly inside you.

“fucking hell jihyo you really–fuck!”

the encouragement only pushes jihyo to get more out of you. pressing your legs to her head to lock her down in place, hands on your hips in a better position. “god, please. please.” you’re begging to let go under jihyo’s will, but it won’t be that easy to meet her needs.

“so good jihyo, g-god you’re so g-good nnh”

jihyo detaches her lips from your swollen clit, sliding her finger over your folds, fingertips getting soaked with your seeping liquid. your hips are off the bed, eyes rolling back from the overstimulating feeling of getting edged for the second time. it was all head racking, your voice filled with needy gasps that jihyo finds thrilling—for you to be all dumb for your girlfriend and it really is something to behold about if you’re jihyo.

“fuck me please. i need you, just don’t be a bit-”

jihyo slaps your pussy in retaliation to your needy attitude; the first and only warning you’re getting from her.

“i’m gonna go along as i please, you don’t have a say on whether or not i get to fuck you dumb, i do.”

she doesn’t hesitate after she says that, slapping your pussy again to make you yell at the sharp pain coming from your hips.

“you’re gonna be a good girl for me. before, during, and after i ruin you.”

two fingers slipped inside of you, knowing that you were already primed and ready from jihyo’s bombardment of lips and nipping of your skin regardless if she gave you the heads up or not.

“yes! please, i need more–” you rasp out at the curling fingers of jihyo in your pussy, followed by her lips nibbling away at your clit. she speeds up the motions, building up a consistent rhythm to follow–her own driving line in tearing you up.

there’s no delay for however long jihyo pleased you for her own pleasure. in, out. in and out. she continues to dive right in with her attention to detail, mouth and fingers working in complete cohesion like her pit crew, higher and higher the tempo increases until–

“wait- sh- i’m gonna– i’m gonna– ah i’m gonna—”

your hips drag to the shape of jihyo’s fingers, jumping and twitching—fighting down the moan in her throat until it all comes down the highest apex that jihyo could create.

“yes yes yes– oh my go-ah! i’m cumming!” you could barely manage, and jihyo believes this to be true, eyes widening at the juices flowing down to her mouth, pulling away as she rubs your pussy furiously. “fuck i’m cumming – jihyo i’m cumming—”

“such a good girl y/n; keep cumming for me.”

the climax was well worth the time dragged out, your body still stuttering and sensitive to the touch even after jihyo’s fingers were pulled out from you. your eyes return back to their normal state, as your mouth was still parted open, looking at jihyo examining the slick from you all webbed up on her fingers, laying beside you with a kiss to your cheek and her hand to your mouth.

“suck it off for me baby.”

you don’t say anything but open your mouth, receiving your own taste from jihyo’s fingers as she watches you lick up every spot that was soaked with your cum, giving her a seductive look in her eyes that makes her own cunt throb at the sight of you.

“shit y/n.” jihyo mutters, withdrawing her fingers from your mouth before kissing you sloppily, breaths between you two were still heavy and filled with a sense of hunger that had been there before, but now the desire was raised up to eleven.

“flip over baby, let me see you from behind.” she purrs out, giving you space by getting on her knees while you roll over. your legs were already smoothened like water–belly down, ass up. the desperation for more was there– your body completely reduced to jelly as jihyo felt out your waist, kneading your ass.

there’s a pause for a brief moment, jihyo runs her hand through her hair, taking in the sight of your back all there in its basking glory, biting her lip before leaning down to plant a trail of kisses down your spine, each kiss making you pant more loudly than the last.

“this view never gets old for me you know?” she murmurs, and all you could produce with your mouth was a muffled whine into the pillow. jihyo’s skin makes contact with yours, arching your back slightly as jihyo presses down on the small of your back.

“please baby,” is all you can plead through the covers–the only offering you have to give is your body molded into the mattress.

jihyo would draw out more of your begging, but she knew that she wanted to have more fun with you, slipping inside you again with a single finger to start, letting out a wail while shoving your face into the sheets more to keep it down, but jihyo wasn’t having any bullshit of playing it safe.

dragging her finger out, her other hand reaches for you hair, making you look up–eyes shut with a gasp of air with your legs coming up as well in response to the rough handling of you.

“i thought i told you to be a good girl for me y/n, you don’t get to have the patience for me tonight.”

a sob leaves your lips, with your back arching even more up as jihyo tosses your head back to the mattress looking out to the side—slipping two curled fingers inside, resisting the urge to grab jihyo’s arm to pick up the pace.

“yes yes. oh my gah-” the whines are barely understandable, throwing your hips back to meet jihyo’s hand down the middle. your walls getting more and more slicker with each thrust inching deeper and deeper.

jihyo palms her free hand down on your back, setting you in place. a piton in the rock as a stepping point as your cunt is being stretched by three fingers. “you’re so good when you’re like this.”

you’re saying nonsense, jihyo’s smiling at the image of you getting completely blown out under her ingrained into her head. it’s sloppy, the strokes are getting too much to bear–the sheets are crinkled to the point where it shouldn’t even be on the bed anymore.

“fuck jihyo, please so close– ‘unna cum again–”

jihyo leans forward to your ear, not letting up on the pressure of her three fingers inside of you—shifting your head to meet hers on the left side so that she can hear your huffing moans more clearly. “yeah? i love when you sound like this–all fucked out for me that you’re begging for more?”

don’t stop. please it’s so fucking amazing.

“jih–hngh! please, fuck - its so - ngh, god i ca-”

your lidded eyes meet hers that were burning with lust, throwing your hips back continuously for a couple more seconds, whimpering through your open lips–fervently shaking at jihyo’s fingers giving one more curl at your g-spot, pushing you to the edge.

“mmmph fuck god-”

and just like that, your walls clamp down around jihyo’s fingers–closing your legs from her underhand grip to prolong the feeling. she slides her hands out of your worked cunt, hips shaking even with your ass up in the air before crumbling down to the mattress beneath you.

jihyo gives you some space again, dismounting from your lower thighs, as it took almost the remaining strength you had left to lay upright, the sensation from two orgasms back to back (this was still the beginning of the ‘night’ so there was a lot more in store soon.) the afterglow looked heavenly on you as jihyo laid right next to you, pressing her lips against your jaw while you hummed out despite your disheveled state.

“so pretty…” she whispers to you, meeting your eyes for another sloppy kiss and massages your scalp while your breathing returns to normal. you lean up jihyo’s chest as you close your eyes for a few moments, enjoying the embrace that you’ve missed so much from her until tonight.

“fuck,” you sigh out, still trembling and already fucking sore, but jihyo knew that there was still work to be done with you, and she knew that you were aiming for a fair trade of pleasure.

“you ready to go for another one?” jihyo asks you, rubbing your boob with her finger, grazing your nipple again, lightly pinching it. you stayed still for a second before jihyo would be caught off guard with the surge of control that flowed through your body.

in a split second you flip jihyo over, hovering over her body while you dive back for another kiss, biting her lip again before lowering yourself to her pulse point at the neck, earning a moan of approval from her,

“why don’t you explain to me about the future plans of jyp’s racing team while i eat you out?” you ask in between kisses as you make your way down, keeping your eyes with jihyo’s while sliding off her jorts and panties, raising her legs up in the air–a complete dynamic switch from her being on top of you to sinking into the mattress.

jihyo is left flustered at your request, knowing that her special present for winning the race would have her running laps for the entire night.

a PA system is overheard announcing a departing flight from las vegas to somewhere out in the east coast that was probably a connecting flight, but it wasn’t yours.

“so, i think everything went well with the after party two days ago.” your eyes lock onto nayeon who was sipping away a thai tea drink, scrolling away on her phone while you look at your laptop that showed the picture of jihyo getting drenched in champagne at the podium ceremony.

“i think the hangover is still lingering.” you hear tzuyu say, patting her shoulder out of genuine comfort for your close racing friend. now that the offseason was underway, it was a definite break for the drivers to get the downtime that they so thoroughly deserved after a long season, and before you know it, it’ll come back around again.

“i thought jeongyeon was gonna be with us.” you say to nayeon, looking up from her phone to meet your gaze with those round glasses of her’s that just fit her vibe so well.

“it actually turns out that she met someone at the club last night, so she’s gonna stay with her for another day or two.”

“does her someone have a name?”

“mina, i think.”

interesting news of development from your close circle of friends. speaking of developments–

tzuyu scrolls away on instagram, noticing a picture from jihyo’s profile that made her gasp out in public, a few surrounding people from the seating area behind you three taking notice of her being startled.

“what happened tzuyu?”

“jihyo’s the new ambassador for calvin klein?!”

you act shocked, but you already knew the news and to be fair, you did remind her that night about announcing it.

“really!? let me see.” nayeon asks, tzuyu handing the phone to her for nayeon to have a look, her mouth forming an o in surprise to how she announced it.

once you saw the picture, you didn’t think anything of it–until you got a second glance at what it actually was.

the picture was set in the hotel room, a familiar hotel room. the curtains were parted as the morning after that certain night was a cloudy morning–a perfect backdrop for a spontaneous photoshoot. jihyo stands at the window with her back facing the camera arms raised with the view behind her. she was wearing nothing but the same fucking lacy panties that jihyo drew down your legs with just her teeth. her bare back clearly toned showing in the picture and with a large CK on the corner of the photo.

“how come we didn't see you back at the hotel room y/n?” nayeon asks you, looking at the photo again with tzuyu’s phone in your hand still.

“well...” you try to answer, still thinking about that night–the sounds of grunts and moans filing your head, the sight of jihyo's face completly wrecked at the sight of fucking you before snapping out of it.

“you still haven’t told us what you were doing that night when we were supposed to eat out.”

"i thought i told you guys that ji-"

tzuyu gasps again, but this time in a more quiet manner.

“what is it?” nayeon gasps again at tzuyu’s small scare.

“look what i noticed in the bottom corner of the picture.”

tzuyu points at bottom corner, a small circular mirror on the table. the reflection from that said mirror shows a person wearing a red and black racer jacket with a smile creeping through at the very top of the mirror. their neck riddled with marks all over and the jacket not zipped up, exposing a little bit of their breasts in between.

“i know that smile from anywhere, and that jacket really looks familiar.”

“she’s not even wearing anything under that jacket either!”

the two girls look at you, a beaming smile on both of their faces with the tsunami of questions that they were going to sweep you in.

easy to say that jihyo’s underwear model announcement on her instagram page after winning the formula one championship was nothing more than a simple photo finish.

#jihyo day!!!!!!#saiiidahyunee #twice x reader #kpop x reader #kpop smut #twice smut #twice jihyo #park jihyo #jihyo smut #jihyo x reader #streaming zone until i pass out studying

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steddiehyperfixation · 6 months

Text

not so tragic a thing after all (steddie ficlet)

Eddie has an essay due in two days. It’s a big one, the last one of the semester, of the year, the one that will make or break his grade and determine whether or not he finally gets to graduate high school.

And he can't write it.

As in, he's been sitting at his desk and staring at a blank piece of lined notebook paper for hours, bouncing his leg and tapping his fingers and twirling his pencil but not producing a single word. It's not that he doesn't understand the prompt or that he doesn't know what he's going to write about, because he does understand it and he does have ideas, he just can't write it. There's some block in his brain, something that keeps him stuck there and anxious, feeling each unproductive second slipping by like a physical thing brushing past him, but still unable to make himself write.

Eddie's always struggled with essays. Out of all the subjects, he has the lowest grade and the highest number of missing assignments in English Lit. Which is such counterintuitive bullshit because that's his favorite subject, and it's because it's his favorite subject that he's failed it every year.

It's like this: If Eddie doesn't understand a math assignment, he doesn't care, he'll just scribble in some bullshit numbers or turn it in incomplete and take whatever grade he gets with an impassive shrug and zero damage to his self-esteem. He's just not a math guy, and that's fine. Same with science or history. But he is a words guy. Eddie is a storyteller, a writer, a lyricist; words are his weapons, his outlet, his safe space, his identity. He takes pride in his ability to artfully string his words together, and a shitty grade on a shitty essay is something he takes personally. He'd rather not turn in anything at all than turn in a collection of words he's not proud of.

Right now the words aren't coming together just right in his head and so his hand refuses to move to write them. He tries to tell himself that it's okay if it's not quite right, that something written, even badly, is better than nothing written, and that he's only guaranteed to fail if he fails to turn this in. It doesn't have to be good, it just has to be done. He tries to force his hand to move, to write something, anything, but the signal isn't getting from his brain to his hand because his fingers continue to twirl his pencil between them rather than curl around it and press the lead to the paper like he wants them to. He just keeps sitting there and staring and fidgeting and not writing like he's been doing all day, all week, all month.

Eddie berates himself for being so stuck, yells and shouts and curses at himself to get his shit together and just write. But he doesn't, won't, can't. The seconds keep pushing past him and the deadline inches closer and closer and his page remains blank and he's so goddamn frustrated he's on the verge of tears.

There's a knock on the front door that makes Eddie jump and then a knock on his bedroom door that makes him shove his shamefully empty paper under a book and out of sight as Wayne pokes his head into the room to tell him, “Your boy’s at the door.”

“For Christ’s sake, Wayne, he's not my boy.” Eddie rolls his eyes at his uncle. He drops his pencil and stands, grateful for the distraction. “Told you a million times, he's just a friend.”

“Uh huh,” Wayne says, which isn't an argument but very much sounds like one, the way he drags out those syllables with a sort of deadpan disbelief.

Eddie valiantly ignores him and pushes past him to open the front door for Steve. “Hey, Harrington. What're you doing here?”

“Uh-” Steve shrugs, looking almost like he doesn't quite know what he's doing here himself. “Missed you, I guess? It's been a minute.”

Eddie's been isolating himself the past couple weeks, canceling on Hellfire and band practices and hangouts, insisting he needs to focus on his essay. He didn't realize any of his friends had taken notice.

“Oh, and I brought snacks!” Steve adds brightly, holding up the bag of chips in his hands like he just remembered it was there. “Thought you might need a break from your schoolwork.”

“Oh.” Something warm blooms in Eddie's chest and tugs a smile from his lips as he moves aside to let Steve in. “That's sweet, thank you.”

Steve returns the smile, stepping inside. “Anytime. So - how's the essay going?”

“Uh, yeah, it's kind of not,” Eddie admits with a self-deprecating sigh, running frustrated fingers through his hair. He nods for Steve to follow as he heads back to his room and pulls the stupid blank page out from its hiding place to show off his failure. “Been at it for weeks and I still can't seem to get a single goddamn word down.”

“Hm.” Steve frowns a little at the paper for a second, but his attention appears to be far more focused on the book the page had been shoved under: a well-worn copy of Romeo and Juliet. He smirks as he picks it up and reads the title aloud, teasing, “Didn't take you for a romantic, Munson.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “It's what the essay's on.” He snatches the book back before Steve can start to flip through it and read anything he's written in the margins. “And it's not a romance, it's a tragedy - which is exactly what I was going to write about, actually, if I could just write it.” Eddie sits down heavily in his desk chair, glaring at the blank paper. “Was gonna argue that people tend to focus too much on the romance of it all, but they're missing the point entirely, and this tendency to over-romanticize the story completely overshadows and trivializes the actual themes of the play. It’s not about love, not really, or at least not in the ways people think. It’s-”

His tangent stops short as he notices Steve beginning to rifle about his room - setting the bag of chips down on the nightstand, grabbing a pencil off the desk, scooping a random spiral notebook (his math notebook, as it happens) off the floor. Eddie turns sideways in his chair and looks at him strangely. “What are you doing?”

Steve turns the notebook to a blank page and sits down on the edge of Eddie's bed, already starting to scribble words across the paper. “I'm taking notes,” he says, like it's obvious. “Don't let me interrupt you.”

Eddie's eyes narrow. “Are you patronizing me?”

“No, no, of course not.” Steve's reassurance is quick and comes with a rapid shake of his head. He looks over at Eddie, expression earnest and genuine as he says, “I’m just interested in what you have to say. I wanna know what you think Romeo and Juliet is about. If it's not romance, what is it?”

Eddie regards him skeptically at first, answers in a measured tone and glances warily at the pencil continuously scratching ‘notes’ onto Steve's paper. But the more he speaks and the more Steve engages with such honest reactions of interest and encouragement, the more Eddie gives into the tide of thoughts in his head and lets them spill from his mouth with increasing enthusiasm: He describes the inherent tragedy of a life cut short which could've been prevented, rambles about the reality of being young and stupid and consumed by emotion, rants about the mortality rate of blind bigotry and prejudice, and waxes poetic about love itself being something tragic and dooming, occasionally grabbing the book and reading out lines of the actual poetry to illustrate his points.

When Eddie's well of words on the subject eventually runs dry, Steve continues writing for just a few seconds longer before he glances up with a grin and stands to toss the notebook and pencil onto the desk next to Eddie. “There's your essay,” he announces. “Well, kind of. You might want to rearrange it a little-”

“Steve,” Eddie cuts him off, staring at the open notebook covered in the scrawl of Steve's handwriting with wide-eyed disbelief. He looks back up at him. “You wrote my essay for me?”

Steve shakes his head. “You wrote it. I mean, it's all your words exactly as you said them, all I did was transcribe it.” He shrugs. His tone and expression are still casual and light, but the hunch of his shoulders and the way he shoves his hands in his pockets now speaks to a sudden shyness as well. “You said you just couldn't get the words down, I know what that's like. I get that way too sometimes - just…stuck - where the thoughts and the intention are there but the action is just frozen. It helps to talk it through, but it also helps to kinda separate yourself from the task a little too. I thought if I could do that first step of getting the words on paper for you, it might make it easier for you to copy some of it down and then start to write it and reorganize it on your own, might get you past that block…”

Eddie kind of really wants to kiss him right now, feeling young and stupid and consumed by emotion. He leaps to his feet and hugs Steve fiercely instead. “Thank you.”

Steve nearly stumbles from the force of the hug and lets out a startled laugh before returning the embrace. “Don’t even know if it worked yet. Thank me after you finish your essay.”

Eddie shakes his head against Steve's shoulder. “Thank you just for trying - just for being here, even. I’m sure there are much better ways you could've spent your Saturday than listening to me ramble about Shakespeare, but you stayed here anyways and made an effort to help me when you didn't have to. I appreciate it.”

“Nothing else I’d rather do. I like listening to you talk; I like how passionate you are about your opinions, even if they are a bit cynical.” Steve pulls back with a smile, squeezing Eddie's shoulders for a second before dropping his hands. “It's gonna be a killer essay.”

Eddie beams at him, the warmth in his expression a reflection of the glow that's unfurling in his chest again. He plops back down at his desk and picks up his pencil, hovering it over his own blank paper as he looks over the words - his words - that Steve had written. He takes an anticipatory breath…and starts to write.

Steve was right, restating the words once they've already been written down by someone else does depersonalize it enough to make Eddie finally able to write it and it does get him past that initial block. Soon he's able to move on from simply copying down the words and begins to add new ones and make edits. A laugh escapes him like a cheer, a short burst of something giddy with satisfaction and relief. He's writing, and writing and writing and writing, the words flowing from brain to pencil to paper perfectly and with ease, the way it should've been from the start.

Steve hangs off to the side at first like he's trying to give Eddie space to work, but ends up slowly drifting closer. When Eddie cheers, Steve's hand goes to his shoulder again, giving it another squeeze, encouraging and proud. His hand then stays there, thumb idly rubbing across Eddie's shoulder blade as he watches the other write. Eddie feels like he's got electricity running through his veins.

Somewhere within the next hour or so, three pages and two sheets of paper later, Eddie slams his pencil down and sighs with finality, “Done!” This earns him another shoulder-squeeze from Steve and a bright smile when Eddie looks up at him. “You are a fucking lifesaver, Harrington, I don't know what I would've done without you.”

“Glad I could help,” Steve says, his smile turning sheepish and his hand finally dropping from Eddie's shoulder as he gives a modest shrug and adds, “I’m sure you would've managed on your own, though.”

“I wouldn't have. I would've failed,” Eddie says seriously. “I was fighting an epic battle against my brain and I would've lost, would've doomed myself to yet another year of pointless high school existence, if you hadn't swooped in and saved me like a goddamn knight in shining armor.” He cracks a grin and stands to dip into a melodramatic bow. “I am forever indebted to you, my liege.”

Steve laughs, and it's a beautiful sound. “You're being dramatic.”

“I’m allowed to be.” Eddie straightens and grabs his essay off the desk, holding it up and shaking the papers. “This is my golden ticket out of high school, man, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Well then, we should celebrate.”

“We can finally eat those chips you brought.” Eddie moves around him and reaches to grab the bag of chips on the nightstand, but Steve catches his hand.

“Screw the chips,” Steve says. “This calls for a proper celebration. How about we go get dinner somewhere? My treat.”

Eddie glances down at his hand in Steve's. “Are you asking me out, Romeo?” he asks as he looks back up, a teasing edge to his grin so he can play it off as a joke if he needs to.

“Depends.” Steve rubs his thumb over the back of Eddie's hand, eyes flicking across the other's face almost nervously. “What would you say if I was?”

Eddie’s smile softens and he finally curls his fingers around Steve's hand. “I'd say yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then yes,” Steve says, his face breaking into a bright and beautiful grin, “I am absolutely asking you out.”

Another cheer of laughter bursts out of him, giddy now for an entirely different reason. “What are you waiting for then, big boy?” Eddie holds Steve’s hand tight, already starting to drag him from the room. “Where are you taking me?”

Steve laughs as well and lets himself be pulled along for a second before taking the lead as they head for the front door. “You’ll see.”

To Wayne sitting on the couch watching some game on the TV, Eddie shouts over his shoulder in passing, “Finished my essay, we’re going out to eat!”

Wayne nods in acknowledgement. His eyes flick to the boys’ joined hands, a knowing smugness in his expression as he mouths subtly to Eddie, ‘Your boy.’

Eddie just grins in response, and then he’s out the door.

Steve takes him to a diner, Eddie’s favorite one, and it makes his chest warm again that Steve knows that. They grab a booth in the corner, hidden from prying eyes. Steve makes fun of Eddie for dipping his fries in his milkshake, Eddie makes fun of Steve for covering his directly in ketchup. It’s all talking and laughing and easy banter, same as it’s always been since they’ve been friends, except now Steve holds his hand and hooks their ankles together under the table and peppers smooth compliments into the conversation that have Eddie grinning and blushing like crazy. The famed Harrington charm is in full effect, moves and lines he’s sure Steve’s used hundreds of times on hundreds of girls, but now they’re just for him, woven so easily into the dynamic that already exists between them, and Eddie basks in it.

It’s the best first date he could’ve asked for.

Perfect gentleman that he is, Steve even insists on walking Eddie to the door when he takes him home. Steve kisses him on the porch then, soft and sweet and promising, and Eddie’s starting to think that maybe love isn’t so tragic a thing after all…

Maybe he needs to rewrite his essay.

#in which i project my own academic struggles onto 3x highschool senior eddie munson #the first 500 words of this is literally just me venting lmao #wrote this instead of an essay if you couldn't tell #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ficlet #mine #(now also on ao3 under the user brokenfandoms)

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celestialwhoree · 2 months

Text

🎀🍼

What time is it?! More single mom!reader time!

Someone dropped into my inbox asking for Single mom! getting upset at her daughter and yelling at her and then crying about it. I needed a minute to cook but I'm here now.

"Come on, Lottie." You huff desperately, covered to your elbows in suds and applesauce as you try and fail to get your daughter into the bubble filled tub. "If you take a bath, I'll let you watch Bluey before bed." Has the three year old perking up, albeit barely, still stroppy about some trivial thing or another. She's probably still sour about you saying no to having cake for dinner, despite the fact that you'd relented this morning and allowed cake for breakfast, on the condition that she also had some strawberries to 'cancel the sugar out'.

"I wan' see Riley!" She pouts, stomping a tiny, chubby foot against the tiled bathroom floor. Ever since you'd dog sat for Simon on his latest deployment, Charlotte had decided that Riley was more her dog than his, and despite the fact that you too, absolutely adore Riley, the thought of bothering Simon any more makes you physically wince. "We can see Riley tomorrow." You attempt to bargain, growing more frustrated the longer you sit on the edge of the bath with your daughter looking at you like you're unreasonable. You never thought you'd see the day where you could get genuinely upset at a three year old covered in apple sauce and glitter glue. You've already had to fish a clip on earring from her mess of hair, and now you're at the end of your very, very long, single mother special edition, extra strength rope. "Wan' see him now!" Has you practically on the verge of tears. Today has been one of those impossible days where all you can think of as you're working out how much you have to spend for the month and whether you need to call a plumber out for the kitchen sink, is whether it's all worth it. Sure, going back and grovelling would be shameful, gut wrenchingly so, but at least then you wouldn't be alone.

"Charlotte, get in the bath or I'll put you to bed with no TV time." The unrelenting growl of your own voice feels foreign as it echoes around the tiny bathroom. You hate playing the bad cop, that was never your role, you'd always been the one to pick Lottie up after her dad laid down the law, take her for ice cream in the park or to feed the ducks. Now you're forced to do both. Charlotte, being three and having no care for the fact that she's making your life more difficult than it needs to be, simply sticks out her bottom lip and quivers her chin a little. Which, under normal circumstances, would make you give in and try to chase her down with a wet wipe, or coax her with the mermaid barbie doll that 'lives' in the bath. "Charlotte. Bath. Now." Of course, she'd had to have your spirited nature and unwillingness to give in passed on to her like a flaming torch, like you were Prometheus, being punished for giving fire to man. "No!" She shrieks, and that's enough to tip you over the edge. "Fine, bed then! Go on! Go and get in bed all dirty and see if I care." You snap, fingers pinching frustratedly at the bridge of your nose, trying to hold back the angry tears threatening to spill.

You're too consumed by hurt and endlessly roiling frustration to see where she storms off to, allowing yourself just a moment to sit on the edge of your shitty bathtub and let it all out. It was hardly ever that you got angry at Lottie. It was practically impossible given your situation. She doesn't understand where her daddy is or why you needed to go without him, nor why she can't always go and play with Simon and Riley whenever she wants.

"Charlotte?" Simon is confused and more than a little concerned at the snotty three year old currently stood at his door, cheeks ruddy with tears and little fists balled as she walks past him into his flat. "Wan' play wif Riley." She babbles, toddling through his entrance hall to the living rim, where the K9 gladly greets her with licks to her cheeks, making her giggle. "Where's mummy, Lottie?" Riley is called to heel, told to calm down so that Simon can understand why he's currently got your three year old crying in his lounge. "Baffroom." The toddler mumbles, seemingly perfectly content to get comfortable on his couch with Riley, burying her little face in the fluffy golden scruff of his neck. "What do you mean, bathroom, poppet? Is mummy alright?" "Mummy cryin'." "Did something happen?" In her usual way, Charlotte completely zones out from his line of questioning, too engaged with snuggling his dog.

The toddler wails and kicks when she's hoisted up onto his hip and carried back through the concerningly open door of your apartment, still swinging slightly on its hinges from where Lottie had thrown it open. "Love?" Simon calls into the seemingly empty house, your daughter on his hip and Riley waiting at his feet, wet nose twitching for any smell of the familiar woman who feeds him treats and scratches behind his ears. In seconds, Riley is tearing into the dimly lit bathroom, jolting you from your meltdown, followed rapidly by Simon and a tired looking toddler. "Love? Darling, what happened?" He's crouching at your bare feet as you sit defeatedly on the rim of the tub, your chin in his hands, tilted this way and that as though to make sure you're not hurt.

"Charlotte wouldn't get in the bath and - and" You can barely get your words out before you're wailing into your hands again, hiccuping pathetically at your situation and the fact that such a simple thing has the strength to derail you entirely. "Ah. Wondered why she came round mine all huffy and puffy." "Oh my God, I'm so sorry - You must think I'm awful." "I don' think you're awful. I think you're fuc-fudging amazing. Look at you, are you jokin'? Raisin a kid all alone, startin' a new life just the two of you. You're a trooper, yeah? I've seen soldiers weaker than you." "You don't really think that." You sniffle, inadvertently leaning your cheek into his palm when he reaches up to wipe your tears. "Course I do. You're brave and kind and beautiful. You've done a hell of a job with the little spitfire over there. Don't think I've ever come across a woman I admire the way I do you."

The way his words, aloof, distant Simon Riley's words make butterflies flutter in your stomach should be illegal. The way his eyes are so warm and dark like the comfort of a warm bed after a long day makes your heart pound and your breath catch. You know you shouldn't feel like this, for Charlotte's sake, and his, and yours, and yet you can't stop yourself. For the first time, you're falling, hard. Not for danger or the lure of the unknown. No. You're falling for the safe, gentle domesticity that Simon offers you in the waiting palm of his hand, like feeding a frightened animal in the hopes of coaxing them into the safe warmth of a home.

｡ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

I didn't mean for this to be 1.2k oops I got totally carried away 😚

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sublimitymp3 · 1 year

Note

Yandere Helaena, Alicent, Rhaenyra, and all the guys with a darling that has a cold and is sick? I have one rn and I need comfort lol

I hope u feel better soon anon ‼️

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Helaena would make sure that even in your weakened state, your mood would never be gloomy. Sweet girl would lay in bed next to you and read to you about her favorite plants and bugs. She’d whisper to you as you fall asleep about all her dreams that she has at night, and what she thinks they mean, holding you close as you drift off.

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Alicent would administer any medicine you had to take to you herself, not allowing the maesters to do it. She’d watch you like a hawk, even when you were sleeping; just to make sure that should you need anything, it would be provided. Her motherly instincts would probably kick in as well, and she’d baby you like there was no tomorrow.

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Given her position in power, Rhaenyra would order that all the best maesters from Westeros and Essos should come at once to treat you. She’d hold your hand despite it being rather damp with sweat and would make it her personal mission to see you recover from this illness. Just like Alicent, her motherly instincts would probably kick in too. Any duties would be put off until further notice, right now her only job is to make sure you get better.

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Aegon could care less about anything else he had going on that day, for as soon as he saw that you were ill, he locked himself in your chambers with you. I headcanon Aegon as being naturally warm to the touch, so that would be very convenient if you were having chills. He is all on top of you, not giving a damn about the maester's warnings that he could get sick too from being within such close proximity to you. His health would be an afterthought, you are his top priority right now; not anyone else, or even himself.

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Aemond is alarmed at the sight of you curled up in your shared bed. He had grown up with his father being very sick, so even though it is just a little cold you have, it stirs something in him. He’d do everything for you, bathe you, dress you, feed you, etc. He’d even go up to the maester’s in charge of caring for you and ask about what teas or other medicines he can make on his own to give you. During the whole time you are sick, you don’t even lift a finger for Aemond is hell-bent on doing things for you that normally you would do for yourself.

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Jace just completely neglects himself. He’s so caught up in worrying and caring for you that he doesn’t make time to cancel meetings or plans. He’d hold you in his arms almost the entire time, and when he wasn’t, he was busy bothering his mother for advice on how to care for you. He’d let the maesters come in and do their thing but he’d be there to oversee that everything they were doing was up to his standards, and if they weren’t, no mercy would be shown. He’d kiss you all over your face whispering about how he would rather burn at the stake than see you suffer.

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Daemon would probably be angry at himself for allowing you to get sick. He’d find out who spread this sickness to you; but would push dealing with that to another day, in favor of caring for you. If you were feeling rather hot, teetering on the verge of having a fever, he’d put you in a lukewarm bath to try and make it go down. He’d climb in behind you and hold you close to him. Daemon’s philosophy is actions speak louder than words, hence why when he does hold you like this, he tucks his face in the crook of your neck and says nothing, allowing you both to relax in the comfort of one another.

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Ser Criston doesn’t have access and power to request the best maester’s to come and care for you or put off his duties, but nonetheless, he would still pull whatever string he could, by any means, to get the time to care for you. He would bring you soups and medicines so you can get better, also making sure you are hydrated. Ser Criston is a determined man, and that will definitely show when you are sick.

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Tag list of 1 💀: @moonmaiden1996

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tealfloyd · 1 year

Text

LOOKING GREAT IN A DAY OF HAVOC

“If MC’s going to die, at least she would do it with style~”

SUMMARY: After a stressing week of homework, MC has to spend her free day with every dorm; to top it off, she drinks Grim’s unknown potion (Everyone x Fem!Reader).

WARNINGS: Death mentions but as a joke (?) There’s not really anything triggering, I think.

CONTENT: MC changes her dress everytime she enters a dorm. Wedding mentions in Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia and Diasomnia. Every outfit is inspired on the villain except Scarabia. WORDS: 6K+

A/N: I’m glad some of you actually liked this concept, I’m not really good describing dresses and anything regarding clothes if I’m being honest, but I tried my best.

Now onto the fic~

It's six in the morning and you already feel tired, groggily standing up to overcome the busy day you have ahead.

Last week you had to do a lot, and when I say a lot is a lot, of homework; so much that you had barely seen yourself in the mirror (Vil gasped at that because your hair was starting to look like a bird’s nest).

Because of that, the time you usually spent with your friends decreased greatly, the only interaction that you had with them being a quick greeting; and sometimes your overworked mind didn't process the 'hi, MC' they were pronouncing.

When you had free time to spend with them (mostly half an hour or less), they asked you if you wanted to participate in some of their activities. Absentmindedly, you agreed to it, scribbling down on your paper without actually knowing what you were saying yes to, only saying the day you would be free.

That day has come, and it’s stuffed to the brim with different events featuring every dorm.

It was a miracle that the hours didn't collide, and it’s not like you could cancel; you have seen how eager they were when you said yes, and you didn't want to disappoint them.

Once you showered you walked down the stairs, heading to the kitchen so you could get a boosting drink, not really thinking about taking breakfast when the first thing on the list was assisting to Heartslabyul's tea party.

You saw a glass of juice sitting on the top glass of the fridge, and you decided to give it a try, because what’s the worst that could happen?

It tasted bitter, and you frowned at the flavour, gagging while placing the now empty cup on the countertop, almost letting it drop when a yell came out of nowhere.

“Henchman! What are ya' doing!?” Grim hurried over to your side, recognizing the singular vase you were previously holding.

“Ah, drinking juice?” You sent him a confused look while washing the cup. “You made it? You could have added more sugar to it...”

“That wasn't juice MC!” Now you’re confused.

“What—?”

“That was my credit potion for Crewel's class!”

Oh, oh.

You dropped the cup in horror and shock, being at a loss of words.

“Why the hell would you put an unknown potion in the fridge!?” You started to drink water, hoping that would ease the effects of whatever you just drank.

“I suppose I may have forgot to take it out... But that doesn't matter! Now I don't have anything to present!” You stood there, ominously glaring at him. Grim really has to be grateful that looks can't kill.

“Grim, what was the potion for?” Your tone causes him to have shivers down his spine,

having a murderous aura along with piercing and threatening eyes.

“Ah, well, I... Really don't know...” He muttered the last part, but it was still heard by you, only increasing your rage.

“You don't know!?” You calmed yourself down after seeing Grim at the verge of tears, taking deep breaths. “Okay, if it's for a Crewel's class it can't be poison, but you made it so that means... It can be poison."

You started to walk towards the front door, turning your head at him before exiting through it. “We will deal with this later, that is if I'm not dead. For the meantime, I expect this place to be completely clean when I come back."

Certainly, it's the greatest day of your whole life, and probably your last.

HEARTSLABYUL’S FORMAL GUEST

A ball gown. Hollow to floor with large, black sleeves. Uncovered shoulders blades lead to puffy forearms, made with a very soft material. It had a smooth lace tracing the neckline, and also a corset, which was perfectly adjusted. The wide skirt was the main attraction, waving at the minimum movement. The colours resembled those of Heartslabyul; the red, black and white harmonizing beautifully, looking like a dress a Queen would wear. A royal bun, loose but not enough that it would look messy. A few strands of hair were placed on both sides of your hair, topping it with a small crown.

Heartslabyul was trying something new. A breakfast tea party, clearly following the strict rules so that it would be a meeting worth of the Queen of Hearts; and you, obviously.

Ace and Deuce pestered asked you for the whole week, insisting that you should come and even giving you a fancy invitation with Riddle’s neat handwriting on it, stating: “You are formally invited to partake in the Breakfast's Tea Party of Heartslabyul, the next Saturday at 8:00AM."

The duo had barely seen you the whole weekend, and they were with you in the same classes, so imagine the time you spent with the others.

They saw the chance of talking to you in the lunch, thing you were doing outside of the cafeteria so you could get more work done in peace. Not that you can really be in peace when being friends of these two dorks, who whined about you not loving them anymore.

You chuckled at the setup, and you asked what they wanted. A couple of seconds after the question, Ace shoved the letter on your face, telling you the contents before you even read it.

You said yes, it wasn't like you could refuse anyways, and some Trey's goods would cheer you up after so much work.

At your agreement they swore they could cry from excitement.

Got to say that when you passed through the portal, you didn't expect a wear such a fancy dress out of nowhere as the result of Grim's potion.

Riddle is so red you start to think he's sick. It's like he created a whole new shade when he saw you approaching the table, registering seconds later that you weren't wearing your usual clothes. After that, he's a complete mess. He is trying his best to not stutter or flinch whenever you try to engage a conversation, finding the tablecloth more interesting not really, but he doesn't want you to laugh at him because of his state. He also feels a bit conflicted, since the gown reminds him of his mother; his not so happy memories cross his mind, until, by accident, he sees you smiling at him. And his mind wanders to the thought of you using a wedding dress, and at that moment he realises he spilled his tea (which was thankfully warm) on his hand.

Trey is acting like his normal self. He actually seemed to be the only one who wasn't freaking out, but don't be mistaken; if you inspect his face, you can see a slight blush and a loving gaze directed at you. We can say that out of the five boys, he is the one more capable of holding a regular conversation, after all, he’s Heartslabyul mediator. He is even bold enough to lightly tease you about wearing such a formal attire to a tea party, yet he loves that you showed up like this, thinking that you planned it when we both know that wasn't the case.

Cater is taking pictures so fast that his phone can't register them all. His storage is suffering from the number of selfies and photos he has of you, just from today. But can you blame him? He wants to preserve this moment, only posting a few ones so everyone can see how amazing you are. He would probably, probably delete them from his Magicam if you asked, but there is no way he would delete all of the other ones. How can he erase such precious memories? He would have to be insane to do that!

Ace is that kindergarten kid who has a crush on you. We all know that, yes, but it can't be ignored. Actually, he can't be ignored, since he's messing with your bun and your crown, even putting in on himself. He only stops when you get too annoyed or when Riddle scolds him. Don't have too much faith though, there's no way to stop him; he's a force of nature, the force that wouldn't stop until you pay him attention.

Deuce stops functioning. His brain cells are working so hard to try to maintain a normal interaction with you, but eventually they just give up, leading you to snap your fingers in order to get a reaction. He can't believe he lived long enough to see this part of you, and curiously, he has the same train of thought as Riddle; your dress could be a wedding dress, it just needs to be painted white- And, he’s out.

When you realised what you were wearing, you let out a huge sigh of relief, thinking that this were the effects of the potion and not a horrible death, so at least you get to live another day in this twisted wonderland.

You didn't really care about the dress. Sure, you thought it was beautiful, but it was just a dress, right?

No, it’s not just a dress.

You wondered if the potion had a different effect when suddenly everyone got quiet, and then, boom, five flustered boys at your service.

You couldn't explain the situation because some of them were too busy surrounding you or stop functioning, so you told them what happened around an hour later when they calmed down.

In general, we have four boys who're blushing so hard it rivals Riddle's hair, and one boy who doesn't make it that obvious.

Overall, pretty great experience, you got to eat good food and it was a pretty interesting sight.

SAVANACLAW’S NEW APPRENTICE

A large, sheath dress. Ruffles adorned the hem while the shades transitioned towards the waist, where a lace was tied up, matching the initial colours and patterns, making it a subtle but elegant detail. It was of a soft yellow with some gold motifs, which you thought resembled the Afterglow Savannah, were spread all-over, giving light to a majestic dress. Two braids, which interlaced to create the illusion of a crown; speaking of it, you also had some light, golden feathers tightly adjusted so they wouldn't fall off, the main ornament being a crown with a rose gold jewel.

You complained to Jack one day after a Spelldrive practice in Vargas class, saying that you wished you could be better at it so the others would stop laughing at you, clearly meaning it as a joke.

Well, Jack took it seriously. He went to Leona and asked if you could be part of the Spelldrive training one day, and the lion actually thought about it, thinking about how he hadn't seen you the whole week, so spending some time with you would be nice.

Jack came to you when you were walking to your dorm, being extremely careful because you were holding a huge stack of books, necessary for your notes.

He immediately retrieved the majority of them from you, taking this chance at talking to you to ask if you wanted to join the Spelldrive training at Savannaclaw one day.

You said yes, saying that you could do it the next Saturday, though you had to admit you were confused at the sudden request, and you must have made a frown because Jack told you what you said before.

You laugh at his thoughtfulness, lightly teasing him about it, and he just shrugs it off, with red ears and a happy, waging tail.

And now you are wondering if you should cancel it because how the hell are you going to practice with such a dress?

Leona's first thought when he saw you was that he passed out while sleeping. He took a short nap while waiting for you to arrive, opening his eyes when he heard your greeting, about to affectionately grumble. Instead, he was found staring at you, cheeks starting to become red when realising the kind of accessory you were wearing. He doesn't really focus on the dress, but on your hair, the style and the crown normally used by brides in his home place. He snaps from his trance fairly quickly, and the only thing that gives him away is his faint blush and the way he avoids looking at you for too long, almost telling you that you look on it, but it turns into a teasing comment. Well, it's the thought what counts.

Ruggie dropped his shopping bags, too stunned to take into account that he had eggs there. He went to Sam's earlier that morning, since he had some discounts, smiling to himself at the cheap shopping session, before he heard you calling him. He didn't look at you at first, but when he did, holy mother of Pearl... The rustling of the bag and the crashing of the eggs colliding with the floor was all the sound he processed. He also knows about the hairstyle and the ornament, blushing deeper when you ask him if he's okay. He laughs in embarrassment while answering that he is fine as fine as someone with a huge crush on you can be.

Jack is trying so hard to not be flustered. And if he didn't have a tail it would've worked, because its speed could rival that of Sonic the opm one or the Sega one, take your pick. Because he’s a runner, he has great control over his heart rate, so he can actually talk to you and be calm, or at least for him it seems like it. He doesn't know about the hairstyle, but he does know about the eye-catching thing on your head. He told you that you looked great, also asking why you're wearing that when it was supposed to be a practice session, but he is not complaining.

You had to apologise and explain the reasoning of your clothes. You heard Leona grumble something about taking care of Grim, while Ruggie and Jack shook their heads in disappointment and disbelief.

Safe to say that you didn't make any major efforts while being there. They refused to let you practice in that dress, only doing basic stretching standing up and correcting your position. Other than that, nothing.

It's not that they didn't want you to practice with them, but if you dress was damaged during the process, dear Sevens, they wouldn't forgive themselves.

So, you passed the remaining hour in the bench, watching them as they explained the basics and doing short demonstrations, paying full attention as that was the only thing you could do.

Once the time was done, you bid them goodbye, thanking them for the help as you promised that the next time you would come back with better clothes.

The next time.

They can't help but think of the sight of you in a large, divine wedding dress, and Leona is contemplating the idea of getting you one.

OCTAVINELLE’S UNFORTUNATE TASTE-TESTER

A mermaid-shaped dress. A long skirt made its way to the floor, a silky and shiny fabric layering over it so it wouldn't look plain. It was mainly black, but it had a gradient shade of marine dark blue and purple in the top and the hem, contrasting greatly with the translucent, white scarf that was situated over your shoulders. Soft curls. The volume of your hair increased, outlining the sea-themed hair pins that were placed at one side, giving an elegant air to the look.

These guys were sly. They asked you when you were at the lounge, drinking a little bit more of Jade's tea as you kept writing, not noticing the thoughtful stare that Azul was sending you, nodding at the twins as they approached you.

Your workflow was disrupted when you heard Floyd's loud sigh, as well as Jade's, and you raised an eyebrow at the sudden action.

They both complained very loudly that you were forgetting them, Floyd literally draping over you as crocodile tears invaded his eyes.

You sighed too, telling them that you're sorry so they would drop the theatrics, asking what you can do to make it better, all while continuing typing, a difficult task when you have such a tall boy hugging you.

Azul coughs, and you shift your attention to him. He says that you can do them all a favour, and you're already expecting the worse the moment you see his mischievous smile, along with those of the twins.

He mentioned having some menu ideas, but he needed a loyal customer to try them out, obviously talking about you, and you had no other option than to accept, doing a small pout as you said the day.

Maybe you were supposed to die today either way.

Azul is ready to welcome you with his perfect smile (which he definitely practiced just for this situation), only for this façade to break when he saw you so... Elegant. He quickly tries to hide it, but there's no use when Jade and Floyd saw the whole thing, and he knows he would never hear the end of it after this. He acts all gentlemanly, but that's just because he tries to be prepared for every situation he could get flustered around you, and let's just say that is not working. He is capable of hold a normal conversation most of the time, so cooperate with him, he might even give you a free meal as payment.

Jade is staring, and you don't know how to feel about it. He knows how to hide his feelings better than Azul when it comes to you, so he doesn't really have anything that makes it obvious about his crush on you. He offers you his arm, asking about the reasoning of your really fancy attire, and his curiosity and interest just sparks when you told him what happened that morning. My, are you really that unaware of your surroundings? Then he supposes he has to stay with you for a few days to make sure you don't endanger yourself further.

Floyd doesn't even notice it at first. The one and only thing that Floyd makes when he sees you is making a bee line, running, towards you so he can tackle you into one of his affectionate squeezes. He's too busy cooing at you and being happy about you showing up that he fails to register the gorgeous gown you just appeared with. In all honesty, he doesn't care. I mean, sure, he thinks you look amazing on it, but he's interested by your personality and actions more. Yet this certainly serves as a boost for his attention, so I’m just going to say that you have to be prepared.

You mentally cursed at this dorm's design, because it was nearly impossible for you to escape in this dress, and before you could even think about trying it, you felt yourself being lifted several inches from the floor while hearing Floyd's happy noises.

You didn't even have to walk as he was carrying you the entire time, shifting to a bridal style when Jade told him that it wasn't very proper of him to carry you as if you were a sack of potatoes.

Azul stood next to you, making sure that the food was of your taste and that you seemed happy with it, trying to set you free from the taller twin's grasp, who utterly refused as he hugged you tighter.

It made the eating aspect more difficult, but your worries vanished when tasting the first plate; a delighted gasp leaving your lips as you continued eating, hearing a relieved exhale from Azul and a small giggle from Jade.

Most of the plates presented to you were pretty good, and you hummed contently when drinking a vase of water, checking the hour on your phone.

Oh no.

Excusing yourself, you managed to set free from Floyd's grasp, thanking them for the delicious food and stating which ones were your favourites, hurriedly leaving as if you were Cinderella when the clock strikes midnight.

Well, it wasn't midnight, but it was midday, and that meant that you had to soothe the clingy boy to let you, promising him that you would be with him the next day, and with that, you set you path towards Scarabia.

SCARABIA’S RECENT TRAINEE

A low riding red harem pants and a black off the shoulder top, connecting both garments with translucent stripes, which graded from black to red to make sure that it made sense. Everything was covered with golden chains with some intricate jewels, tinkling at the contact. The pants had a black fire design at the bottom, looking a lot like the original Scarabia uniforms. Low ponytail. It was held up by two golden bands, ending in a small swirl. The main accessory being a golden headband with a sapphire embellished to it.

Kalim was known for being happy most of the time. Most of the time. The poor boy thought you were mad at him when you barely paid him any attention in the span of that long, long week.

It went to the point in which he thought you would forgive him for whatever misdeed he had done by buying you anything that reminded him of you, and there was nothing that Jamil could do to stop him.

You visited Scarabia one day, Jamil's suggestion of helping you with some history questions had you walking there; you certainly didn’t expect to see what a surprise a huge stack of gifts, neatly piled up in the dorm's living room.

You had to reassure Kalim that you weren't mad at him, just overworked, and his face bright up once again, happily hugging you.

He told you that Jamil will be helping him with some dance moves, and the latter was forced to cover Kalim's mouth, but it was too late; the box had been opened, and so did your curiosity.

You accepted, telling them that you would be free the next day (aka, the infamous Saturday), much to Jamil's dismay. He exhaled, hiding his flushed face in his hoodie while thinking of the fact that you would practice with him.

Kalim is confused, but is a good type of confused; he doesn't know why you're using this outfit, in fact, he didn’t even realise that you weren’t using different clothes in the first place: he tends to have tunnel vision when he spots you, slowly dissipating after some seconds and that’s when he takes notice of the outfit, and then, he remains quiet. And that’s starting to worry you because is weird that Kalim isn’t talking about his excitement and being around you like a puppy. You went up to him and he stutters about how beautiful you look; sweet things you would expect from a boy like him. Though he has to ask where did you get the traditional headband that engaged woman use in his land.

You can’t even see Jamil’s face at first, his hoodie hiding his flushed face as soon as he saw you. That way he can actually talk to you, instead of being a literal rock, because he doesn’t want you to see him in such a state, with pink cheeks and a love-struck gaze. He does tell you that you look good, in a very… Jamil way; suddenly asking why you’re wearing that, muttering a: ‘It looks good on you’, regretting it almost immediately because now you’re asking him if you heard correctly. He cuts you off and says that you all have to start stretching, ears burning in embarrassment.

After explaining the story, you saw a completely worried Jamil, who scolds you about your reckless reasoning of drinking something that was obviously suspicious, all while Kalim is trying to calm him down.

You apologise while laughing, the fact that he’s concerned about you touches your heart and he stops at that, announcing that all of you had to stretch in order to maintain his composure.

The practice was fun; they taught you some of the traditional moves of the Scalding Sands and it was entertaining hearing all the jingles coming from your outfit, not noticing the mesmerizing stare that the boys were sending you.

You were there for approximately one hour, and that’s when you get a text from Vil.

You groaned, saving your phone, muttering a small: ‘Sorry, I have to go’.

Telling them you should do this other day, you left. When you did though, dear Kalim was starting to search similar clothes that he thought you would look great in, and surprisingly enough, Jamil didn’t stop him, curiosity getting the best out of him.

POMEFIORE’S UNEXPECTED MODEL

An A-line gown. This one was larger than the others, bringing along a long cape with it. The plan palette contrasting the golden glitter on the hem of the cape, a black and smooth surface that you could see through it, but just at the end. The main colours were a dark shade of purple for the dress and black for everything else, with some glances of gold in the accessories, but that was it. A loose braided crown, with a real one over it; the beautiful yet simple design being a delight to the eye, as well as the rubies adorning it.

Epel begged (and when I say he begged was that he was on his knees, looking like he was praying) for you to come with him at the modelling session that Vil will have for him.

You were there, baffled at this out of nowhere action, and in the heat of the moment (mostly to make the boy stand up) you agreed.

This time though, you couldn’t choose a date, because it was programmed from the start, so at least you’re thankful your mind didn’t mess up this one.

You haven’t had the experience of being with the Vil Schoenheit in a clothes trying affair, but it was definitely something that was worth trying, regardless if the experience itself was good or bad.

He thanked you, quickly standing up fixing his uniform so Vil wouldn’t scold him, unaware that Rook was hearing the conversation, animatedly walking towards his dorm leader so he could break the news to him.

When he heard this, he brainstormed ideas and even considered getting you a Pomefiore uniform, thinking of ways to convince you to use it.

Vil’s face betrays him as he shows his astounded expression. It seems like he underestimated your fashion choices, but he’s puzzled because, MC? Why use such an elegant gown when you’re going to a clothes trial? Once he understands what happened though, his faith on you faded a little bit, but don’t worry MC, he will make sure you know how to compliment your natural beauty. He’s inspecting the dress as you stand there, getting dizzy for all the turns he was making you do. Letting a hum of approval, he mentions something about buying you both matching outfits- Scratch that, he decided he would make them himself.

Rook is kneeling before you, literally. He always praises you for everything you do and everything you wear, and this isn’t the exception. He takes your hand so gently, afraid that you would be scared by his antics, but he smiles against the soft skin of your palm when you tilt your head, looking adorably confused. It didn’t last long as Vil retrieved you from his grasp, annoyed. He chuckled at that, thinking about how to take care that his Trickster didn’t accidentally poison herself.

Epel has his mouth shaped like a ‘o’. He’s the first to ask, very loudly may I add, why the hell are you wearing that, but like, more soft since he was talking to you. After the story time, he lets out a small apology after Vil chided about manners with guests, his agitation quickly becoming embarrassment as he actually takes a good look at the costume; he needs a couple minutes to recover from the sudden shock, so don’t be harsh on him, it’s just that he’s passing through a lot of mixed feelings right now.

The truth is that you didn’t get to try any clothes on during your whole stance in Pomefiore; mostly because Vil was too busy checking the entire thing and Rook was by your side, making his job more difficult. Epel, as I said, is perplexed; should he feel relieved because Vil is focusing on you, or should he be mad that Vil is focusing on you? He doesn’t know.

Vil, being Vil, found a few errors in your unplanned dress, bringing a notebook with him so he could write things that he wanted to apply on the designs of the new one, and you get to see him do one of his rare, pure smiles out of giddiness.

He also inspected your hair, and as he did that, Rook approached to tell you one and another time that you were beautiful; that no one in earth could rival your ethereal being and you were worried what Vil would have to say about that.

Nevertheless, he hummed in response, and you were ecstatic.

Poor Epel tried to make a casual chat, but he was so nervous that his accent slipped and he had to endure a few minutes of Vil’s scolding, quietly thanking you for being there as you distracted him with a detail on your cape, and once again his attention was on you.

When the time was over, your legs and feet were sore after all the standing, thankful for the next event as it meant that you would get to sit down for the next hour.

You excused yourself, and what a shame that you didn’t see the guys pout as you crossed the door, as they were absolutely gold.

IGNIHYDE’S GAMING ROUGH DIAMOND

A short dress. From the largest we pass to the shortest, just a little bit up the knees; a robe cape that had a skull pin on the left part attached to it covering most part of it so the length wasn’t noticeable. In the end it had a cloudy texture and it looked like a goddess garment, creating the illusion as if you were walking on air. Apart from that, all the set was black, with some blue flames on it, which alluded to Hades powers. A Dutch braid. This one was also similar to a crown, but it seemed much bigger, the strands that came out of it perking up, tinted of an enticing shade of blue.

Idia was sulking the whole week. Only because you didn’t have time to play with him and he had to face the villains completely alone, as he was reminded during a cut scene of your charming laughter when you lost; something he never really understood, but it was cute nonetheless.

Ortho tried to convince him into going to Ramshackle, but just when it seemed like he was actually going, he curled up into a ball in his bed and refused to move.

The younger Shroud knocked on your door one afternoon, giving you a quick greeting as he asked you if you could come to Idia’s gaming session the Saturday.

You couldn’t refuse to Ortho, so you happily complied, wondering if he already knew that that day was your free day.

Idia let out a high pitched scream at the news; he hoped that he wouldn’t make fun of himself while being with you, something that was only possible if you were next to him, for real.

Hades better help him out to not die of shame.

Idia passes out. The only reason he wasn’t hurt when he woke up was because you managed to catch him on time, resting his head on your lap. He opened his eyes a few minutes later, meeting your concerned ones as you asked him if he was okay, and his hair combusted into pink flames at the heart-warming sight. He has already done the only thing he feared the most: embarrassing himself in front of you. He stands up so fast because of the adrenaline, trying to overcome the mortifying scene by making a teasing comment about your dress, and he ends up redder after your sincere thanks. You’re going to be the death of him, maybe quite literally.

The reason the session took longer to start was because both you and Ortho were trying to get Idia back to his senses, as he passed from a living dead state to a pink candle.

Somehow he calmed down, only looking at his phone because if he saw you he was sure he would pass out again, sighing in defeat at the recent memory.

Even after the awkward situation, the playing went smooth. You were pretty good in this game, a RPG with some rhythm elements added to it, along with the OP cards that you gained while spending your goods at the gacha some weeks ago.

You needed more practice, but the talent was there, and just when you were getting comfortable your phone played a catchy ringtone, indicating an upcoming phone call.

You didn’t have time to say ‘hello’ as Sebek was screaming at your unpunctuality, claiming that his young master had been sad for the past 10 minutes.

Exiting the game, you expressed your gratitude for letting them stay at your dorm, and Idia muttered: ‘You’re welcome to come whenever you want though’.

You compromised to play another game later on, and for the first time in the afternoon, Idia, willingly, exchanged looks with you, promptly regretting.

You left before he could pass out, and he would be forever grateful for that.

DIASOMNIA’S HUMAN PROFESSOR

A trumpet dress. It had a long tail, but it wasn’t longer than the Pomefiore one; either way, this gave more of a…Goth vibe, slightly damaged at the ends. The full circle cloak helped cover the bare shoulders, a little heavy since it was made of a thick fabric, yet it truly increased the royalty aura that you were exuding. It was mainly black, with the sparks being of a raven purple; the flashiest colour being the neon green situated on some details of the dress, along with the cord that maintained the cape secured around your form. Feather cut hairstyle. It didn’t have accessories, nor braids or any ties, the only thing over your head being two black horns that were glued on it; smaller than Malleus horns that is.

This time you weren’t the one being the guest or being taught something; you were the teacher. And it started when you were taking a break from the overwhelming study that you’ve been doing since the week started.

Malleus always strolls there at night, waiting for you, and when you didn’t come to visit, he was enraged; the anger becoming sadness when he thought that you were mad at him, or even worse, you didn’t want to be his friend anymore.

Because the two of you were in different years, the probability of spotting you down the hallway was very low, now add to the problem that you were passing most of your time in the library, the Mostro Lounge or your dorm; now that reduces the chances to zero.

Lilia tried to cheer him up, as well as Silver, and when Sebek knew about this he explained that you were busy with your homework, and that eased him up a little.

But just a little; Malleus is very possessive and he needs to see you to make sure you are okay, so he knocks the door one night, hearing the light creaking of the wood as it opened to reveal you.

He tried to refrain himself, but at the end, he ended up hugging you. It was comforting; you didn’t push him away and you stayed there, in silence, until you broke the ice by asking if he wanted you to pass by Diasomnia tomorrow.

He smiled, saying that it would be a pleasure to receive you in his dorm.

And that’s how you scheduled the plan, leaving it for last because the other things were already timed, reserving it for casual talking about your world and human customs.

Malleus takes your hand, gets down on one knee and is preparing his words to get you engaged to him, no jokes here. However, before he can say the magical words, Lilia awkwardly laughs and cuts him off, distracting you so he can say that it’s maybe a little too early for him to marry you. He strongly disagrees, but he does gain some awareness when told that that could ruin your friendship, so he accepts, defeated. But that is not going to ruin his mood; you being there, talking to him and happily telling some stories of your world is enough for now.

Lilia is delighted, his laughter echoing through the room after Malleus tried to wed you. The style of this dress really has a resemblance with those of the Briar Valley, but it’s very unique, and maybe it’s because you’re wearing it. Even though he stopped Malleus from proposing, his mind can’t help but think about you in a traditional wedding dress of his hometown. He wonders if he can get you to use it one day, yet it stops there when he hears you cackling because of some funny anecdote that you were telling. It’s better to cherish the present, he thinks.

Silver is awoken up suddenly because of Sebek’s scream at the action of his young lord. He takes a moment to process the scene as he opens his eyes, ready to defend his soon to be king, and that’s when he sees him kneeling in front of you; noting the kind of clothes you are wearing, his cheeks burning ever so slightly. When the commotion was over, he sat next to you, and he tried to stay awake, he really did, but the soothing tone of your voice relaxed him to the point where he places his head on top of yours, quiet snores leaving his mouth.

Sebek thinks you are really going to marry his young lord. If Lilia didn’t stop him, he would; out of anger at you for seducing his master, or jealousy because he liked you too? We would never know, but what I do know is that if it was the latter, he will feel remorseful of his feelings, mostly when he realised that you didn’t even planned to come like this at first. He shuts up for a second, mind rebooting because wow, human? Tell him why are you such a beauty?

Lilia took advantage when Sebek quiet down, hurriedly sitting you in the sofa while asking some questions about your universe.

That made way for everyone’s curiosity (except Silver, he was busy sleeping on top of your head) to perk up, the air being filled with different questions about the place where you came from.

Malleus asked about the wedding customs, mostly human ones, and Lilia was surprised, to say the least, when you responded every one without suspecting a thing. How oblivious can you be?

Lilia wanted to know some recipes, and you told him some that you thought they all would enjoy; but there’s no limits to Lilia’s menacing cooking, even if he doesn’t have to use the stove or the oven he still will manage to make horrible meals, so you were very careful with your words. A futile attempt for sure, but let’s continue.

Sebek asked about the royalty and everything regarding the upper class, since he was curious that in a world with no magic, people still obeyed humans with no magical abilities. Less to say that you don’t actually know how to respond that.

It was getting late, and you noticed that the time was almost up, so you excused yourself with the same manners as before; thanking and promising to meet them next time, walking back to Ramshackle.

At the end, Grim hadn’t done much, only a couple things were cleaned and he was sleeping soundly on the sofa with tuna cans surrounding him. You sighed at it, sitting down in the couch with your pyjamas on, softly caressing the fur of the creature.

Your phone started to beep, messages popping up on the screen of everyone you just saw today, and you chuckled at that, starting to respond to every single one of them.

Maybe the fancy clothes were gone, but the havoc will still continue.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

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beenbaanbuun · 7 months

Text

Its You and Me (‘Til the End of Time)

words - 3.8k

genre - fluff

warnings - Mingyu is a cutie

To be fair, you’d been meaning to visit the place for a while. Ever since you first moved to Seoul a month ago, you and Mingyu had been trying to make plans to see each other, but for one reason or another, they always ended up getting cancelled. Usually, it was due to Mingyu having to practice late, or being called into the studio to re-record some lines, but you never minded. Mingyu was a busy guy, and it’s not like you hadn’t waited for literal years to see him; a few more days couldn’t hurt.

The two of you had still yet to set up a new time and date, and yet there you were. A mixture of excitement and anxiety bubbled within you, making the stress inside of you build to an almost unbearable level. It was impossible to stay calm in such a situation, but you were trying your hardest. You could only hope that the thread you were hanging in by stayed intact for just a little longer.

You lifted your hand up to the door once more, letting your fingers wrap against the wood before you could think about it twice. ‘Fuck,’ you thought as the sound finally reached your ears; there was no turning back now.

It was hard to hear much above the rain that hammered down against every surface surrounding you, but it was difficult to mistake the jingle of keys for anything else. You thought you’d have more than just a few seconds to gather your thoughts and decide what you were going to say, but as the door swung open, your mind went blank.

“Hello…” the man standing before you looked wary. It was understandable, you supposed. It’s not every day a stranger shows up at your home at such a time, especially not when you’re a K-pop idol. You were surprised honestly that he opened the door at such a late hour.

“Is Mingyu in?” You replied, voice wavering a little as your body shivered. The longer you stood there, the colder you felt. Especially with the door to the Seventeen dorm now wide open, almost teasing you with how homely it looked inside. Well, as homely as 13 grown men could make a place look.

The man, who you assumed to be Seungcheol, just watched you with worried eyes. With the way you stood there, tears streaming down your face and wet clothes clinging to your quaking body, he felt it was almost cruel to have this conversation on his doorstep. He could invite you in, and offer you a nice warm cup of tea and some clean clothes before continuing to interrogate you about your intentions with his member. It seemed like the humane thing to do.

But for the safety of himself and his members, he kept the conversation on the doorstep. If anything happened to his boys, he’d never stop feeling guilty. Protecting them came first, even if it meant he had to put his instincts to be a gentleman aside for a moment or two.

“Why?” He asked.

“Please,” you replied, “I just need to see him.”

“Who are you?” He countered.

“I’m a friend.” You could tell you didn't have him convinced.

“Can I have a name?” You nodded.

“Y/N.”

A sudden look of realisation fell over his face as you answered his question. Knowing that Mingyu must’ve told his group about you almost filled you with a sense of pride, and if you weren't on the verge of what seemed to be the fifth breakdown that night, you probably would’ve smiled at the thought. But with a huge ball of anxiety growing bigger and bigger in your chest, you could think of little more than getting some much-needed comfort.

“You’re Y/N?” Again, you nodded, only this time it was more desperate, “The Y/N? The one Gyu never shuts up about? I didn't even realise you were real!”

“Huh?” For just a second you were shocked out of your sadness, but Seungcheol took no notice. He ushered you into the building, closing the door once the two of you were safely inside. You were barely standing there for a second before he mumbled something about finding Mingyu and rushed off into a room that you assumed some of the other boys were sitting in. Given the way the place erupted into a mass of noise almost immediately as Seungcheol made his presence known, you guessed you were correct.

You tried not to listen to the conversation going on in the other room, simply focussing on taking off your shoes. You placed them neatly by the door alongside a pair of the biggest boots you’d ever seen in your life. It was easier said than done though; the boys were loud and even though they spoke on top of one another, the conversation was surprisingly easy to understand. Multiple questions were thrown at Seungcheol, most of which he replied to with a simple ‘later,’ before moving on to the next.

You wondered if Mingyu was in there with them, sitting amongst all his friends, having a good time. The guilt of taking him away from them, even if just for a few hours, ate at you. You almost regretted knocking on their front door, and you definitely regretted disturbing the peace at such an hour. Maybe if you hadn’t panicked like you did, you would’ve come up with a better solution than bothering your childhood friend who you hadn’t seen in years. You doubted he even cared enough about you to help you of his own accord, and you certainly didn't want to pressure him into anything. Maybe the best thing for you to do would be to put your sodden shoes back on your feet and leave quietly. You could see Mingyu another time; a time when he actually wanted to see you. Of course, you’d ask him to apologise to his members for you. It’d be the least you could do.

You bent down to grab your shoes again, wincing as you felt the cold material touch your fingertips. The thought of putting them back onto your feet - your feet that were only just starting to warm up - made you want to cry. Thinking about stepping out into the cold, rainy night was even worse. With a sigh, you blinked back the tears that threatened to fall and reached out to grab the door handle.

“Y/N?” You stopped in your tracks as your name was called. The voice was one that you recognised, and just hearing it again brought you an immeasurable amount of comfort. It was like going home after a long time and shoving your face into your favourite childhood blanket, or holding a forgotten teddy in your arms for the first time in years. It was something so distant, and yet so familiar. “Is that really you?”

Mingyu didn’t attempt to hide the worry on his face as you turned to him. He didn't see the point. Why pretend that everything was okay when it was obvious that it wasn't? After all, why else would you be standing in his home so late, dripping a puddle onto the wooden floor in the foyer? Why else would your eyes be red from all the tears you’d cried?

“Mingyu,” you whispered.

“I couldn't sleep and then I heard hyung say your name,” he explained as he closed the distance between the both of you. As he wrapped himself around you, sharing his body heat with you, you felt the thread inside of you getting weaker. “Are you okay?”

It felt like home to have him in your arms again, even if the circumstances were less than ideal.

“I don’t think I am,” you admitted, letting yourself turn to jelly in his arms. You tried desperately to hold back the fresh wave of tears that burned the back of your eyes, but as Mingyu rubbed soothing circles into your spine, it felt more and more impossible. “I’m so sorry.”

As your voice cracked, his arms tightened around you. You were thankful for that, in a way. You’d almost certainly fall to the floor if you didn't have at least some form of support to hold you in place. It was just ironic that that support came in the form of the very same man that had supported you for almost all of your childhood. Even after you spent so long apart, the two of you seemed to slip right back into the childish, unconditional love you once felt for one another and nothing felt even a centimetre out of place.

The two of you held onto one another for a while. The loud conversation from the other room soon turned into background noise as Mingyu hummed a tune into your ear. It wasn't one you recognised; perhaps it was something he was working on. And even the thought that he would share something so private with you after so many years made you feel a whole lot better.

Nothing seemed to have changed, not really anyway. Sure, the two of you were a little older but Mingyu was still the same Mingyu as before, and you were the same you.

“I won’t let you tell me you’re sorry, okay?” His lips moved against your ear as he whispered to you, “There is nothing to be sorry for.”

You hiccuped out a sob.

“I shouldn’t be here, Mingyu,” you said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The way Mingyu’s arms held you against him with a vice-like grip let you know that he disagreed. Still, you argued your case. “We haven't seen each other in so long and you shouldn’t have to deal with this. You’re busy!”

“Not right now, I’m not.”

“But you will be tomorrow,” you argued, “and this is so stupid! I should just go.”

You tried to pull away from him, but his grip on you only tightened. It wasn’t painful, but it was firm enough to let you know that you weren't going to get away from him that easily. Not until he’d made sure you were okay, at least.

Because to say he was worried would be an understatement. It would be one thing to show up at his dorms unannounced, but to show up in the middle of the night with tears streaming down your face and your hair and clothes dripping with rain? There had to be something bigger going on and Mingyu was going to get to the bottom of it, even if it killed him.

It killed him more not to know.

Because he cared for you. Even if you hadn't seen each other in years, he still loved you. He still thought about you every single day and dreamed about you each and every night. His lockscreen was a photo that you’d sent him of you at the beach, and his favourite playlist was one that you’d made for him. You consumed his life and he wouldn’t let you leave now. Not when he knew you needed him.

It wasn't long until you gave up trying to pull away and rested your tired head on his shoulder. Your wet hair left a cold patch on his t-shirt, but he didn't even blink. If he even felt the tiniest bit cold, he knew you felt a hundred times worse.

That reminded him, you were still in your wet clothes.

“You’re going to catch a cold, you know,” he said, “and while I’d be more than happy to take care of you, I don't even want to think about how miserable you’d be. Let's get you changed, hm?”

You didn't argue as he pulled you along, up the stairs and to his bedroom that he shared with God knows who. It was obvious which side belonged to Mingyu and which side didn't. The clothes that were sprawled across the floor reminded you of his bedroom as a teenager and you couldn't help but giggle when he shot you an embarrassed smile.

You sent one back, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you followed him over to his wardrobe.

He dug through his clothing collection, occasionally stopping on the odd piece before deciding that it wasn't right and moving on. Of course, you were in no position to turn down warm, dry clothes so you would’ve taken anything Mingyu offered to you. Knowing him, though, he was searching for the softest, fluffiest pieces he owned, just like he always did when he lent you clothes.

There was a small sound of affirmation when he tugged a large brown hoodie from its hanger and placed it in your arms. It was swiftly followed by a pair of matching sweatpants and some fluffy socks that had little dogs on them. They were cute, and so utterly Mingyu that you almost wanted to tease him for them.

But before you got the chance he scurried off, mentioning something getting you something warm to drink. You called out a thank you after him and got to work taking your sodden items of clothing off.

Each of them made an unappealing schlopp sound as they hit the floor. It sent a shiver down your spine (or perhaps that was just how cold you felt) the sound entirely unappealing. Once you were changed you'd have to hang them up to dry and grab a mop to get rid of the rather large wet patch on Mingyu’s bedroom floor. There would be nothing worse than leaving him to deal with it after all of his hospitality.

Speaking of which the clothes he gave you were possibly some of the cosiest you’d ever worn. The inside of the matching sweat suit was fluffy and got to work with drying your skin a little. The coolness of your skin was soon starting to seep away into nothingness and you wrapped your arms around yourself to snuggle against the soft material. You hated to think about the cost of something like this. Probably more than you’d earn in a month and there you were, wearing it like it meant nothing.

But it did mean something. It meant a lot.

To you, at least.

“You look so cute,” Mingyu laughed as he stepped back into the room, a laptop stuck under his arm and a steaming mug in either hand. “Look at you. The sleeves are so long on you, it's adorable. I wish I could grab my phone to take a photo.”

You blushed as his soft voice rang through the room, offering compliment after compliment.

“It's not my fault your arms are freakishly long,” you shot back at him. He laughed a little more as he placed the mugs on the nightstand and his laptop on the bed. His body soon followed, flopping unceremoniously onto his mattress. He patted the spot next to him as if to invite you over.

You hesitated.

“Come on,” he said, “get your cute little self over here and into my freakishly long arms. It's been way too long since we’ve had a BFF movie night!” Your face was probably shining red right now, the effects of Mingyu’s words really hitting home.

Because as far as you could recall, your BFF movie nights had never involved cuddling on his bed. Instead, the two of you would sit together on a sofa, one blanket covering the two of you with a popcorn bowl in the middle. If Mingyu occasionally slipped his arm over your shoulder, that was his business, just like it was yours when you pretended to fall asleep with your head leaned against him.

Althoguh, the more you thought about it, the less this differed from the movie nights of the past. Instead of a sofa, it was a bed and instead of popcorn, it was hot chocolate. Mingyu was still very much the same tall, clingy teddy bear as he was back then, and you were still the same old you.

One deep breath was all it took for you to make your way over to the bed and crawl on. You sat down, a little more gracefully, next to Mingyu and peered over at the screen of the laptop. Quite frankly, you didn't care what he was putting on. You figured that being next to him was enough to bring back the nostalgia of when the two of you were young. So when he gave you a suggestion, you just hummed and waited for Mingyu to lean back against his pillows.

He did, putting an arm out to the side for you to lean on. You smiled as you rested your head against it and shuffled your body until it was flush against his. As if it were an instinct, Mingyu’s other arm snaked around your waist, pulling you even closer in. It was cosy and you were happy.

The film ticked by, neither of you paying much attention to it as you watched one another instead. There was the occasion comment passed between the two of you, although it was nothing significant. Just small talk, really. Something that you never cared for but with Mingyu it felt nice. Telling him how your life had been didn't feel forced, and you more than loved listening to him tell you about his members. By the time the film was finished, you felt as though only minutes had passed by, not a whole two hours.

But Mingyu made no move to put on another film, and you thought that perhaps the comfort and safety of the night was all coming to an end. He’d send you home, letting you know that he had to go into the studio tomorrow or something, and he’d already lost too much sleep with you there. He’d send you on your way and let you know that you’ll see each other soon, but how soon was a question that the two of you couldn't possibly know the answer to.

As sad as you were about the inevitable, you couldn't be angry, nor could you claim it was unexpected. Honestly, you were more surprised that you even got to spend these fleeting few hours with Mingyu in the first place. He opened his mouth to talk, and you waited for the words that you really did not want to hear.

“I want to ask you what happened,” he whispered, “What was bad enough that the only place you could think to come was here? To me.” He stopped for a few seconds to gather his thoughts. There were a brief couple of seconds where you could've responded to his question, but part of you knew that he didn't want you to. Not yet at least. “I'm grateful, of course. I’ve missed having you around and even if the circumstances are, well, less than favourable, I still like having you by my side.”

It was still dark in the room, even though the sun had just begun to peak over the horizon. You could just make out Mingyu’s features as he gazed at you. He was even prettier now that he’d grown into a man, even though he hadn't changed that much. His big doe eye remained, as did the permanent pout on his lips. He’d just grown into them, you supposed.

“I like being by your side.” You replied.

“That's good to know,” he said, leaning in a little closer, “because now I have you back with me, seeing you walk out that door again just feels wrong. I need to know that you’ll be coming back and I need to know when. I can't just sit and wait for the day to finally roll around, anymore.” You could feel his breath brush against your lips. His own were parted, glistening in the golden light of the dawn. “I want to know that you’re mine, Y/N.”

The words struck you like lightning.

His.

You hadn't seen him in years but somehow, all the feelings that you’d pushed deep down came shooting back, hitting you like a wrecking ball. The way your skin seemed to tingle whenever he lay a hand on you, or the way your face heated up whenever he shot a nonchalent compliment in your direction. You always doubted he knew that he was driving you crazy on a daily basis, but now you weren't so sure. He may have seemed the type to jump into things head first and face the consequences layer, but you’d never known the man to do anything without a mental pros and cons list.

“Do you ask every girl who comes to your doorstep crying to be yours?” You joked, not sure what else to say. You wanted to scream yes, but the thought of making him wait for an answer from you was a little too funny.

“Only the pretty ones,” he replied, not phased by your comment.

His, of course, had done the world of damage to you. You giggled, shying away from his gaze. It's not like he hadn't called you pretty before, but this time it had meaning behind it. No longer was it just an off-the-cuff comment that Mingyu made to boost your confidence when you were feeling a little shy.

It took you a moment to regain composure, and even longer to look him in the eyes. He wore a confident look on his face as if he already knew the answer. You cursed your lack of subtlety for making it so obvious that you wanted to be his just as badly.

“I guess I’ll have to say yes,” you whispered, “even if your timing is impeccably off.”

“Sorry about that,” he chuckled. You could tell he wasn't actually sorry at all. “I couldn't hold back now that I’d seen you again.”

You knew how he felt. The pull you felt towards him was almost unbearable.

“I’ve missed you Mingyu.”

“I’ve missed you more.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #svt fluff #seventeen fic #svt fic #seventeen oneshots #svt oneshot #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshots #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu oneshot

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marauderverse · 3 months

Text

With Love// F.W x Reader pt.4

Summary: Y/n Dursley of number 4 Privet Drive hates her life. That was, of course, until the summer before grade 9, after an oddly charming redhead and his brothers helped her cousin escape. it was probably a good thing he forgot to return that key.

word count: 1.7k

The letter came one June afternoon.

Y/n was on her way back from school, and her brother running off with his friends to do god knows what.

Her father was at work, and her mother was out getting groceries.

She had the house to herself and couldn’t have been more elated.

A light tapping on the widow by the kitchen sink alerted her to the barn owl.

She stood up, making her way over and tentatively taking the letter from its beak.

Dursley family

Number 4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

She turned the letter over; sure, this was again a letter explaining what Hyginks Harry had gotten himself into this month.

To her surprise, it was an invitation.

Dursley Family,

You have been cordially invited to spectate the third and final task of the 1994/95 Triwizard Tournament.

If you are to accept this invitation, we expect your owl no later than June 20th.

A representative will escort you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at 11:30 am on June 24th.

We eagerly await your reply.

Yours sincerely

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

She grinned as she read the letter. She turned to the owl that was still perched on the window sill.

“Can you just wait a moment?” She asked the owl; it simply blinked at her with its large eyes.

She ran up to her room, grabbing a pen, paper and the owl treats from her room.

She stopped at her kitchen table, quickly scribbling down a reply.

Dear Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

I would be delighted to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to spectate the 1994/95 Triwizard tournament.

The rest of my family will not be in attendance.

Yours Sincerely

Y/n Dursley

Harry’s Favourite Cousin

She folded the paper in half.

She gave the owl a treat before handing it the letter and watching it fly off into the evening sky.

She grinned, excitement bubbling in her chest at the prospect of being able to see the magic school. She, a muggle (Which Harry would often call her to annoy her), surely this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Her spirits were high all evening; even her mother's nagging couldn’t wipe the grin off her face.

“Why are you so happy?” Dudley had asked rather loudly.

y/n shrugged.

“It’s nothing, and even if it were, I wouldn’t tell you because you would just spoil it,” she shot back.

“I would not,” he protested, face scrunching up and beginning to turn red.

“Yes, you would; you always do. Remember my year four violin recital? I was so excited to show Mum and Dad what I had been working on, and the night before, you threw a tantrum because you didn’t want to go, and I had to miss my own recital,” she explained.

“I did not!” he was beginning to sound like an overgrown baby.

“Or what about when I was thirteen? And I was having my friends stay the night for my birthday, and you didn’t want them in the house because you wanted to play your video games in peace, so you screamed and cried until I had to cancel my birthday,” she retorted.

Dudley was on the verge of another one of his tantrums; she could feel it. His face was red as a tomato, and he breathed heavier than normal.

“So no, Dudley, I’m not going to tell you why I’m so happy tonight,”

“Mum!” Dudley wailed, throwing himself onto the ground.

Three seconds flat, and their mother was already by his side.

“What’s wrong, duddies?” She cooed.

“Y/n’s tormenting me,” he fake bawled.

She turned her attention to her daughter.

“What have I said about bullying your brother Y/n? You’re sixteen now; this is completely unacceptable behaviour,” She screeched.

Y/n shrugged, turning around to make her way up the steps.

“I ought to ask the Weasley twins for more of those magical toffees,” She said loudly enough for her brother to hear.

She grinned at the genuine scream of terror he let out at her words.

She didn’t have to wait long for a reply from the deputy headmistress.

It was the Saturday of the same week the letter had initially arrived. This time it was delivered directly to her.

Y/n Dursley

First Room to the Left

Second floor

Number 4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Dear Miss Dursley,

We appreciate your timely reply.

Due to the nature of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it is pertinent that a witch or wizard must escort all Muggle Family Members.

A representative will arrive at precisely 11:15 a.m on the 24th of June and escort you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where you will be able to spectate the third and final task of the 1994/95 Triwizard tournament.

If you have any questions or further enquiries, please don’t hesitate to contact me.

Yours sincerely

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

She grinned at the letter in her hands, an excitement she hadn’t felt before making its way to the surface.

She couldn’t help the slight squeal of excitement from her lips.

It seemed the morning of June 24th couldn’t come fast enough.

She hadn’t told her parents what was happening, fearing they would lock her away in her room or something just as horrible.

By some good fortune, everyone in her household was out that Friday.

Her father was at work, her brother at school and her mother was out with her friends for brunch.

Three loud knocks echoed through the silent house.

Y/n jumped up from the couch, swinging the door open.

“Hello Y/n,”

She was slightly taken aback by the man standing before her, but a wide grin cracked across her face.

“Mr Weasley, it’s good to see you. I take it you’re my escort to Hogwarts?” She questioned.

Mr Weasley nodded his head.

“That’s right when McGonnagll told me you wanted to watch Harry in the last trial, I immediately volunteered myself.”

She smiled bashfully at him.

Stepping out into the warm June morning, she clutched the bouquet of flowers she got her cousin, Mr Weasley instructed her to grip his arm tightly and not let go.

Hesitantly she did as she was told.

In less than five seconds, they were standing in a little village she did not recognise, considerably more nauseous than she was a moment ago.

“What the hell was that?” She asked, willing herself not to throw up.

Mr Weasley let out an amused laugh.

“Sorry, I often forget Muggles aren’t used to magical travel,”

Y/n took a second, dropping the bouquet to the ground and inhaling deeply, placing her hands on her knees.

“Are you alright?” He asked, now slightly concerned for the girl.

She dry heaved a few times, willing herself not to throw up in front of Mr. Weasley. Eventually, the bout of nausea left, and she could stand up straight once more. Collecting the flowers she had thrown aside.

“Okay, we are all good to go,” She smiled.

Mr. Weasley was still wearing a concerned expression, but he nodded in understanding.

"Sorry about that. Apparition can be a bit disorienting for those who aren't used to it. But you handled it well," he said with a friendly smile.

Y/n chuckled nervously, "Yeah, well, it was definitely unexpected."

As they walked towards the magical carriages that would take them to Hogwarts, Y/n couldn't contain her excitement. The whole wizarding world was still a mystery to her, and she was eager to learn more.

“What's it like?” She began, “I ask Harry all the time but he won’t tell me anything interesting, he mostly just talks about quidditch and his classes and stuff. Are there any rules I should know about?"

As they settled into one of the carriages, Y/n couldn't help but be curious about Mr. Weasley's world. "And what about the Ministry of Magic? How does it work? Are there laws that everyone must follow?"

Mr. Weasley nodded, happy to elaborate. "Yes, indeed. The Ministry of Magic oversees magical law in Britain. We have various departments, such as the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, etc. Laws ensure the proper use of magic and protect the magical and non-magical communities."

Y/n absorbed the information, fascinated by the intricacies of the wizarding world. As they continued their conversation, Mr Weasley expressed his interest in the Muggle world.

Before she even knew it they had stopped; Mr. Weasley stepped out first and helped y/n down from the carriage.

She turned, excitement bubbling in her chest. This was it; she was finally going to see the place Harry held so dear to his heart. The place she had envisioned for four years.

But to her dismay, ruins stood staring back at her. It was a dilapidated building that was unfit for anyone to inhabit, never the less than 300 witches and wizards from across the country.

“Uhm, Mr. Weasley?” She began jogging to catch up to him as she realised he had begun walking up the path towards the ruins. “Are we in the right place?”

Mr. Weasley stopped and turned to look at the girl, a look of confusion on his face.

“Yes, of course we are, my dear,” he turned back and continued to walk.

y/n hesitated for a moment.

“It’s just, is this like a trick or something?” she couldn’t help the question.

Mr. Weasley paused for a second, a look of realisation dawning on his face.

“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot,” Turning to look back at the ruins “, There are enchantments and all sorts of muggle-repelling charms put in place, you know, to keep from prying eyes. But I assure you, my dear, the castle is here, and once we are past those, you'll be able to see it as if you were a witch yourself.”

Excitement rose in her chest at those words. She was here; she was going to see it.

One moment, it was ruins; the next, it was a magnificent and imposing castle.

y/n was breathless.

Maybe it was her imagination, but she swore she could feel the magic around her.

tagged : @aki-ham @ashdoctor

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagine #fred weasly x reader

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toomanythoughts4myhead · 4 months

Text

A drop of poison goes a long way

Summary: More insight in Coriolanuses work life and the veil of what is going inside his past loves head is finaly revealed. Coriolanus is offered what he wants. Will it be his doom again?

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow and his brain; mentions of attempted murder, shooting, gun violence, prosthetic as result; Capitol people.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I am so sorry it took me this long to write this. December wasn't 🎄Decembering🎄 it was 📝Decembering📝. I hope you enjoy and I will try to be more on schedule. Hope yall enjoy.

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Coriolanus liked to think of himself as a sensible individual by Capitol standards, to say the least.

Then why has he been on the verge of ripping his hair out for the past day and a half?

Ever since Dr Gaul had presented to him his "fixed" songbird he has been in a state of mind unbecoming of the image he has built himself to be. He even had to cancel his lunch outing with Solicis Saddler, a hefty sponsor of the games with an odd bloodthirst for someone who was missing most of his natural teeth and had gotten a tacky golden replacement.

Dr Gaul hadn't allowed for him to take you home or stay long, not that he had been able to protest, eyes glued to your form like ot would set you on fire or make you crawl back in his arms. He didn't want to think about the consequences; he knew he had failed whatever test this was supposed to be. He should have remained stoic and proud, barely sparing you a glance. Instead, he gaped at you, hopefully with a closed mouth.

He had gotten used to troubling his mind with various plots and schemes before bed, usually that kept his mind at bay and away from you. Now, you came back in strutting to render him powerless over his own being. He felt stupid and weak, unsure who to hate more - himself or you.

He decides he hates you most.

After the encounter, he had gotten back in his car and gone to work, collecting himself now that you were out of sight. With the rise of popularity after the 11th and especially 12th game the making of the Hunger Games had become a lot more professional and lavish, the personal had expanded and even changed and added buildings to the office.

As a head game maker, he worked and operated over the main building, the center, and the gem of the whole operation. The building itself was in various shades of whites and blacks, and all in-between, a lot of the structure was from black and white marble with golden cracks. Coriolanus liked working there, in his expensive suits and office at the top of the building, overlooking the whole Capitol. he felt powerful, as he should. He was the one in control.

The main game makers teams were separated and had multiple departments that discussed locations, structures, finances, networking and so on and forth, anything needed for the games to run smoothly and be as entertaining as possible. He was the one who organized meetings and approved ideas and made sure they would also be reasonable by the almost limitless budget. This meant he technically worked only a few hours; the other time, he spent building ties and attending lunches and dinners that would benefit him. Technically, since he is the head and face of the operating, whatever helped him helped the community. So, no one complained or questioned him.

This day was horrible and he breezed by most of it, he felt that on the back of his mind he was reliving this morning over and over and decided its best not to interact with one of his best sponsors when not fully with hus mind. He had fumbled some excuse on his way back from work that he didn't feel good, which was partly true.

Now, the hot water of his shower was burning his skin as he increased it again. He didn't like the burning hot but thus was about discipline. I remember who he was now and for what eh stood. He wouldn't allow you to take this away from him again.

His sleep was troubled and came upon him way too late, his skin felt raw and sensitive from the waterx maybe he shouldn't over do it too much, he wouldn't like for people to notice. His carefully glided back curls were sticking everywhere, and he felt aggitated, but he fell asleep in the early hours of the morning. Not uncommon.

° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ °

In the morning, he felt better. He rose with the same confidence he had adopted and went out for a run. At least his stay in the districts had taught him discipline and instilled the need to train his body, something all the spoiled and often drugged up or obese people of the Capitol seem to lack. It made him stand out, with his sculpted torso and wide shoulders, strong but not intimidating brutishly so, he filled out his shirts and suits in way he never could back when he was barely eating anything with substance.

It had snowed again last night, surely a good fortune. His sneakers left imprints in the still not cleared up paths in the near park, his breath fanned over his face in clouds of white smoke, he could feel the chilling air nip at his sides through the thin running clothes he had. He felt alive.

By this time, his avoxes were up and on the go, tending to the apartment and the his work clothes and breakfast. He knew their routine like the back of his hand, and so they didn't dare step out of it; it felt good. Each day he got the same royal treatment, no back talk (or any talk for that matter), after a while even he didn't have to talk to them, they knew what to do, he would often limited himself to simple commands. It was a pleasant start to his day since he had to deal with pompous arrogant moneybags for a living.

When he reached the street on which his apartment resided the sun was starting to turn the sky redish. He felt a faint sheen of sweat on his doby and shuddered as his body started to cool down from the exercise, what caught his attention was one of his avoxes waiting for him at the threshold of the apartment. Coriolanus raised an eyebrow as he approached, straightening his back and slowing down his breathing. Judging by the unsure look on their face he knew something had gone wrong, they weren't supposed to be here.

"Could you explain to me what you are doing outside?"

The avoxe looked up at him with gaze that held too much fear, sure he had punished avoxes before but not so cruelly. A mere doubling of chores or less food had been all he had done, merely disciplinary shows of power. The same way a dog needs to be taught, so do humans. The avoxe passed him a note, an envelope sealed with red wax in the capitols symbol. A message from the Citadel.

Coriolanus lifted an eyebrow. Receiving mail isn't exactly an out of the ordinary thing, he doesn't think it's really worth it freeze his ass of and catch something over a letter, but his gnawing intuition told him it was something bad. The realization seeped through and he felt an unpleasant churning in his timach as he ripped the envelope and read the letter.

It would hardly be called a letter since it consistented barely two sentences but It made his head spin.

"Take this as an encouragement from the staff of the Citadel for all your hard work. We hope you don't mind we clipped your Songbirds wings a little."

It wasn't signed but it didn't have to be. Who else could have scared his staff this badly but Dr Gaul? The implications of the letter set in and he barged into his apartment way too quickly, almaot shoving the avoxes down the stairs.

Snow fells and littered his floor, making wet spots on his white rug, but it wasn't the only thing tainting his apartment. There on his couch he found you, sitting cross-legged and fighting woth the decorative bouquet of roses on the coffee table. Your gaze snapped to him, watching hiw with curiosity and a startled look in your eyes as he stared back with such intensity it made you feel uncomfortable.

The hospital gown he had seen before had been switched for a creame white knitted dress that reached your knees and black leggings with boots, semi-useful for the weather and surprisingly basic for the extravagant taste of the Capitol. In the natural light seeping from the glass wall your prosthetic arm looked too natural. You looked too natural, unchanged, maybe even bettered by some fancy Capitol equipment.

What surprised him most was the way you looked at him.

He had spend a long time going over all possibilities of interactions between him and you, he had imagined a cold shoulder, yelling, screaming, maybe you would even try to attack him. But you looked at him with admiration, your face brightened as you placed your warm gaze on him. Not lovingly like before, you didn't seem to recognize him fully.

He walked closer until your knees were a hairstarnd away from his thigh and stopped. He didn't know how to react, he could feel the grasp of control he wielded best at his own house. You just had that effect on him, maybe it was the puppy smile on your face.

As he approaches you stand up, now he can clearly see the white bow on your head, truly wrapped like a present for him.

"Dr Gaul sends her warmest regards. And im here to thank you personally for all you have done for me."

Coriolanus despote everything found himself even more confused. Sure, he had done a lot of you: kept you alive during the Hunger games, cheat in the Hunger games for you, carry out some duty in district 12. He hadn't imagined you'd be thankful for it now. His lack of response must have confused you.

"I am so very thankful you saved me from the districts. I would have been left for dead if you hadnt sent your team of doctors to help me." - you add with a sweet genuine smile and loving gaze.

What?

"Well i couldnt leave my girl for dead among these animals. You know I'd do anything for you." - he smiled back and went as far as to gently grasp your hand in a sweet gesture.

He is grasping at loose straws here. It was evident that your memory was very... selective and altered. He could somewhat force himself to imagine that it was all due to the incident, but he knew better. This was all Dr Gauls idea and work. He needed to figure out more of the scenario Dr Gaul had constructed for you. And to find out how.

You seemed to like the gesture, squeezing his hand into your smaller one. Your hands were softer, not calloused or rough from playing guitar or surviving, but soft and inviting. Your nails were even done, he had to give it up.to the person in charge of your presentation, they had truly went all in.

"It all happened so fast, the doctors never filled me in fully of what exactly happened." - he said feigning ignorance and worry.

"It was horrible. After i returned i wanted to see my family so bad, but everyone turned on me. They chased me down through the forest because i had managed to get a glimpse of what thwy want - wealth and power, even if briefly from the Capitol. My own family tried to shoot me." - you said and it visibly made you upset, your voice became more uneven, wobbling lightly with along with your bottom lip.

Your own blood? You had no living family, you'd said so yourself before. It appears the lab team had decided to do this in the most dramatic way possible.

He put his thumb on your slightly trembling chin, running his knuckles over your reddening bottom lip and coo at you sympatheticly, as much as he could.

"My poor girl, im so sorry it took us this long to get you back and kicking. Those people certainly did a number on your poor body." - he ran his free hand up on the prosthetic bicep, it felt colder to the touch, not as squishy as human flesh and fat, but surprisingly close.

You nod into the palm of his hand, looking at him with big watery eyes. This is amazing, Coriolanus thought. He had you right how he always wanted you, under his thumb and eating out of his palm. You were like a frail little fawn waking up after the cruel winter had passed, everything is different but so so familiar. He would be your guide, he will show you the right way, he will be your light and your dark. You will worship and thank him for taking your control and responsibilities away.

All hate seemed to be burried for now, this opportunity made Coriolanus too excited, to have his favorite toy back. You weren't the girl who had sicked a snake on him, no, that girl was dead, trapped in her own body but permanently erased. Whatever he had now was the perfect doll with your face slapped on it.

"Oh my precious lamb, welcome home."

He cooed and tried to keep the sadistic glint in his eyes from showing too much. He put his arms around you, big hands digging into the warm material of your lower back, the rose ring on his pointer finger scraped the material. Your cheek was pressed against collarbone, nosing at his neck. Even a few seconds in his embrace and the sickeningly sweet smell of white roses was clinging to your whole body. Even a few minutes were enough for his poison to take root.

He runs his hands up and down your back, keeping you close. It felt good, to feel your warmth again, it made something tick in his brain whenever he felt your warmer weaker body against his. Call it animal instincts or a sick mind, neither are too far off.

"Ive missed you" he croons in your neck, his nose bumps your pulse point and it makes your head feel lighter. You are alsmot too loat in each other, but the feeling of being watched makes you open your eyes to find a nervous looking older woman. You instinctively true and pull away from Coriolanuses tight embrace but he doesn't let up, his hands just dig deeper into the fat on your hips and sides.

"Where do you think you are running off to? Are you not happy to be mine?" - he asked with a mocking tone but the intensity in his eyes never wavered.

"Corio, there is someone her-"

"Just an avoxe, no need to be shy. She wont say a peep." - replied clamly and stood back to his full height, keeping you good to his side like an accessory. Your face was held to his chest by the back of your neck, the hold wasn't strong but you hadnt tried to break free either. It made your cheeks burn a tad bit. "What seemes to be the problem?"

The woman stood still and pondered how to explain it without actual words but the loud bickering of an old man that could be also drunk and rattle of metal made Coriolanuses breath hitches for a moment.

Solicis Saddler.

He had promised dinner at his penthouse to make up for canceling, to go over the future plans of the games to keep the bloodthirsty man at bay and his wallet open for all gruesome scenes. Judging by his pompous screaming and yelling at his staff he had taken the invitation to heart.

Coriolanus had completely forgot about this. And it made him feel like the ever-growing tower that was his life was tilting, he was getting sloppy. He needed to focus again. He won't repeat the same mistakes.

Pressed against him, Coriolanus could feel you flinch as the octaves kept on getting louder. He needed to apologize to his neighbors tomorrow for all the chatter. He gave your waist a squeeze and kept you locked to him.

"Let him in."

(Not my best but lemme cook chat, i.swear ill do better next time.)

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lnkedmyheart · 9 months

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I like Oda as a character, I like the way he contributes to the story and how he influences the narrative. I do not however like Oda any more than say Karma or Fitzgerald. And in my very honest opinion, the huge problem with Oda's fandom characterization comes from idolization and the cool dead guy trope. The fandom sees Oda as this affable guy but also sees him through Dazai's eye where Dazai idolized him and puts him on a pedestal. The fandom sets Oda up as this faultless, flawless, perfect man who had all his shit together and was wise beyond his years and could do no wrong, all powerful token of perfection. He goes from a flawed interesting character to a Mary sue with silly quirks for "flaws". And this is why people so often misinterpret his relationship dynamic with Dazai and the impact of his final words. People are not allowed to analyse and critique Oda as a character because the moment you say you don't like him you have to put out an apology for hurting the fandom's feelings (real event, one user on tiktok had to actually apologise).

Oda is not perfect, he is not ideal and he is not faultless. Oda is not some pure soul like people insist he is, he was an assassin and while he no longer kills he was still working for the mafia. He was still involved in an organization dealing in assassinations, murders, gang violence, trafficking and more. He's barely 22 when he dies, he is young, he is traumatized and struggling to connect. Aside from that he takes dumb as hell actions like repeatedly going to visit the kids he adopted in broad daylight while there was a literal terrorist with a vendetta against him on the loose. He also repeatedly indulges Dazai's spirals, something that Ango explicitly calls him out on. Yes it makes Dazai feel like he has a peer but Oda is literally one of the most passive personalities in Dazai's life until his death, he rarely calls Dazai out on his spirals, often indulging his worst self destructive tendencies. He also struggles to place Dazai, putting him on a pedestal and alternating between seeing him as someone born to remain in the darkness and a child on the verge of tears. Oda also repeatedly fails to understand the sheer amount of hope Dazai had during dark era, most notable in their second last meeting when Dazai desperately tries to stop him from his suicide mission by trying to give him hope. Dazai is a very hopeful character who latches onto the most minor things in his life and postpones his death for them despite being actively suicidal. Oda's final words to Dazai take away any real hope he had while telling him that he should live to serve other people. Oda's words made Dazai into a martyr who only values himself through what he can do to save the innocent.

And no, I'm not saying this to slander Oda. I'm saying this to humanize him. Nobody in bsd is perfect. Everyone is flawed and human. Oda made stupid decisions, was involved with the mafia, etc and that makes him human. That makes his ending a tragedy greater than the fall of some faultless pious hero. Oda's final words were meant to give Dazai hope to keep living, to leave the mafia in a way that he never did and to do good in a way that he never could. And the problem was that he didn't understand Dazai was always this hopeful guy. He needed to be told that he will find a reason but Oda thought he wouldn't cause Oda was actively projecting on Dazai, and that's a theme in bsd, everyone projects on Dazai. In his final moments he told this suicidal kid looking for something to keep living for, that he will never find anything to live for and to dedicate himself to other people.

Yes Oda helped Dazai escape but he also broke something in that boy. And Atsushi is desperately trying to tell him now that no, Dazai doesn't need to martyr himself for others, that he deserves to live regardless.

Ready to get cancelled but I don't like the fandom Oda. I much prefer the Oda who accidentally fucked up his last words because he was projecting too hard. Like beast universe literally exists because that versions of Dazai took Oda's words way too seriously and tried to create a world where everyone but he survives and remains happy.

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fixfoxnox · 8 months

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Attention - SoapRoach

Description: Roach knows that his boyfriend is a busy man. He's a Captain in the military with so many responsibilities. Still, with another day of plans missed in favor of paperwork, he's craving attention and he intends to have it.

Note: Based on the wonderful art done by the wonderful @miilkybnn (sorry for how much I've been tagging you in stuff lately 😅). Here are the two pieces, please go give them some love, they're incredible. 🧼 🪳

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, tiny bit of fluff, Ghost is there for a second BTW, he's hyping Roach up, Dom/Sub tones

Word Count: 4.4k

Roach tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, nerves tugging at his chest. The longer he stood and the more nervous that he got, he already felt like he was on the verge of tears. The sound of his foot tapping impatiently rang around him, echoing in the dark to mix in with the sounds of crickets and frogs serenading the night. It only drove home the silence that surrounded him.

He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the need for some sort of comfort as he glanced once again at the front door of the building. He was trying his hardest to give Soap the benefit of the doubt. He was hoping beyond hope that the man had simply gotten caught up in his paperwork and was rushing out to meet him now. They had reservations. They had plans. Roach had cleared his entire schedule to make a cute night out with his boyfriend. He'd even gone so far as to stash some...things in their shared room for when Soap would inevitably turn grabby, and they'd return to their room together.

Roach should have known better. At this point, he should have expected it because, well, Soap was Roach's boyfriend, but Captain MacTavish always won out over Soap and, by extension, Roach. Usually, it wasn't a problem. Usually, he loved how hard working and dedicated Soap was to his work and to the team. Usually.

Now, though, with the last four of their dates either canceled or rescheduled or changed because Soap had gotten himself too caught up in work to remember, Roach was frustrated. He'd had his fill of Captain MacTavish. Now he wanted his Soap. Roach wanted to finally have the man's attention to himself. No phone on just in case someone needed to call. No late dates. None of that. He wanted Soap to focus on him, to put him in front of his work at least once.

The door beside him opened, and Roach turned quickly, hope filling him as he did. It was dashed to pieces as he met the eyes of Ghost. Not Soap. He deflated a bit, tucking into himself further as he turned away from his Liutenant.

"Well," Ghost chuckled while taking several steps forward, "don't look too happy to see me." He nudged Roach's side playfully before digging into his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. Roach watched him pop one into his mouth before flicking open a lighter he'd pulled from who knows where to light the end of it.

"Sorry," he apologized quietly, his voice betraying how upset he was. "I was just expecting -"

"Captain?" Ghost guessed. He glanced at Roach from the corner of his eyes, and Roach avoided his gaze. He turned his attention to the ground, kicking at a rock with his foot as something heavy laid over his chest. "He's in his office. Buried in paperwork like usual."

"Of course he is," Roach grumbled under his breath. He didn't want to be mad. Roach wasn't someone who typically held things against others. In fact, oftentimes, he'd been told by members of the team that he was far too forgiving. He just couldn't shake it, though. He didn't like being angry. Now, though, there was a bubbling of white hot anger that seemed to move through his veins and simmer in his chest. He didn't like being angry, but God, he was so mad.

"I'm guessing," Ghost leaned against the wall next to him, crossing his arms over his chest before reaching up to pull the cigarette from his mouth, "You two had plans?"

"Yeah," Roach brought a hand up to rub over his face, trying not to let too much of his anger show. "Yeah, we did." He pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing the number of the restaurant and hovering his finger over the button to call. He needed to cancel their reservation and let the restaurant know that they could give the table to someone else. He didn't call. Instead, he just stared at it until his screen went dark. "I guess I should go back inside. If he forgot, then there's no point in waiting out here for him."

He tucked his phone back into his pocket and tilted his head up, looking at the dark sky above them for several moments. "You know," Ghost started carefully, "I hope you don't plan to let him off the hook easy for this one."

Roach turned toward him quickly, dread pooling in his chest. "What?"

Ghost took his time in responding, puffing out the smoke from his cigarette for several long moments. "This is, what?" He tilted his head at Roach, "Date number three that he's done this to you?"

"Four," Roach corrected quietly. "It's the fourth time."

"Four times is too many," Ghost shook his head and gave a small tut. A moment of silence hung in the air between them. Roach knew Ghost was right, of course, he knew Ghost was right. He'd been thinking the exact same thing. The only difference is that he knew he'd never have the guts to voice it.

"I know," he agreed. "I don't know what to do."

"Talk to him," Ghost suggested. Roach watched him toss his cigarette but to the ground and stomp his foot over it. "Get mad, Roach. I can see you're upset. Make him realize that you're upset." He pushed himself off of the wall and started back to the door of the building. Suddenly, he paused.

There was a moment that passed before he turned around and marched back over to Roach. "I'm serious, you know?" His voice was careful, and he reached up to pull the sunglasses from his face and lift his mask up enough that Roach could talk to Simon. Not Ghost. Simon.

"I know," Roach answered him quietly.

"You're worth more than what he's giving right now." Simon shook his head at him and made sure to meet his eyes, "You gotta make him realize that. Get mad. Yell. Punish him. Do something and -" he cut himself off with a click of his tongue and a shake of his head, "and don't stop until you've made him grovel. Until he's begging you to forgive him."

The two locked eyes and, for a long moment, they stayed like that. Understanding passed between them. "Thanks, Simon."

Simon hesitated for a long moment before giving Roach a nod. He tugged his mask back down and threw the glasses on top, leaving Roach staring at Ghost once again. Ghost leaned forward to give his shoulder a slight squeeze. "Give him hell, Bug."

With those words, he turned and quickly disappeared inside, once again leaving Roach alone in the dark of the night.

Roach stood outside of Soap's office, his eyes trailing over the neat name plate on the door. Captain John MacTavish. He could hardly stand the sight of the name at the moment. He was mad at Captain MacTavish. He was mad at Soap.

Still, he kept his composure. He didn't like being mad, so he tried not to be as he reached up to give several quick knocks to the door. He knew Ghost wanted him to be mean, wanted him to be mad, but Roach couldn't. He just wasn't like that.

He waited patiently, listening for any call from the other side of the door. Nothing. He knocked again. Another few minutes went by, and there was still no response. He didn't knock again. He knew that if Soap hadn't answered, that meant that the man was too far into his work to pay attention to him. Too far in to actually hear when someone knocked.

He pushed the door open without any further alert of his presence. The door opened silently, but Roach wasn't quiet as he stepped into the room and shut it a little louder than he normally would behind him. His eyes were locked on to Soap the entire time, but he only received a brief glance from Soap before the man focused himself back on the papers on his desk. A flash of anger burst through his chest at the move, but he ignored it.

He stood at the door for several moments. The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the scratch of Soap's pen on paper. Roach waited patiently, giving Soap the chance to acknowledge him. To maybe realize what he'd done and apologize before Roach had to spell it out to him. He could never be so lucky.

He took slow steps toward Soap's desk, the sound of his boots hitting the floor echoed around him. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stopped in front of Soap's desk. He waited another moment, but Soap still never looked up at him. Finally, in a voice that was much calmer than he felt, he asked, "Did you forget something?"

Soap glanced up at him from his papers again, but it was clear to see that he still wasn't paying attention. His mind was focused on work and work alone. Something about that made Roach angrier. "I don't think so." He answered back quickly.

"Soap." Roach called his name, his voice betraying how annoyed he felt. Soap didn't look up at him again. "Soap." Roach spoke a little louder. His voice was a little harsher. "Soap!"

Roach gave in to the anger he felt just briefly, just long enough that he didn't even think before rounding the desk and grabbing the paper that Soap was working on to yank it out from under his pen. The move left a streak of ink across the paper, and Soap was quick to stand up, his own face ticked with annoyance. Still, he didn't look at Roach. Instead, he just tried to fix the papers that Roach had displaced.

"Roach, I really don't have time for -"

"Soap," Roach reached out to grab Soap's face, tired of trying to get his attention. He used his grip to turn Soap so that he was forced to look at him. "Look at me!"

There was a pause. Soap blinked at Roach in shock, his entire face betraying his surprise. Roach could see the beginnings of a blush raising across the other man's face, and a part of him felt more then smug about that fact. "Roach," Soap breathed out. Slowly, Roach released his hand on Soap's face.

He took in a deep breath, trying to remember himself. He didn't want to be angry. He didn't like being angry. "Soap," he met his boyfriend's eyes, "did you forget something?"

Soap stared at him, searching his face for a long moment. Roach could see the moment that realization dawned on his boyfriend's face, the moment that he realized that he had indeed forgotten something. "Roach," he breathed out again, "I am so sorry." Roach turned away from him, leaning against his desk for support. "I am so so sorry, I just got caught up and-"

"It's alright," Roach assured him, shaking his head at himself as he did. "I already canceled the reservation."

"Let me make this up to you?" Soap turned back to his desk, "I swear I will make this up to you, okay? Just let me finish this paperwork, and I'll take you out."

Roach's head shot to the side, his eyes wide as he watched Soap sit back down in his desk chair, his attention returning to the papers in front of him. "Are you-"

"I promise I will fix this," Soap pulled some of the papers back in front of him, "I will make this up to you tenfold and we'll go get something to eat and we can reschedule our date night. I'll take the next one off-"

"That's what you said this time," Roach reminded him, still watching with wide eyes and growing anger as Soap returned his attention to the papers, his pen already scratching at the paper again.

"Yes, but I'm serious this time." Soap muttered the words, his attention already gone from Roach. With it went Roach's patience.

"You-" Roach's clenched his jaw, a burning heat of anger flooding through him. He could hear Ghost's words echoing around in his head.

"You gotta make him realize that. Get mad. Yell. Punish him. Do something, and don't stop until you've made him grovel. Until he's begging you to forgive him."

Before Roach could really think over what he was doing, he'd moved his hands to Soap's shoulders and shoved, pushing the man back until his chair was far enough from the desk that he could clamber onto his lap.

"Roach?" Soap's hands flew to Roach's waist, but Roach didn't let them stay there for long. He grabbed at Soap's wrists and with a surprising amount of strength and a lot of help from Soap being caught off guard, he was able to yank Soap's hands away and pin them to the arms of the chair he was in. "Roach?"

"Keep them there," Roach hissed, his face serious, "don't touch."

Soap's eyes widened, and Roach could see that blush from before return. This time, though, it stayed to linger over Soap's cheeks and trail down his neck. "Roach," he breathed out, "what's going on?"

"Do you know how many of our dates you've blown off in a row?" Roach asked him, his voice deceptively calm. His face was still stormy, though, and even as he moved closer to Soap, pressing their hips together temptingly, it didn't fade.

"I," Soap stopped for a moment, his mind fully registering what Roach was asking him. He felt his heart sink into his chest as he realized exactly what this was about. "I don't know."

Roach scoffed and ground his hips down, pulling a gasp from Soap's lips and a small sigh of satisfaction from his own. "Four dates," he glared at the man beneath him, "Four dates that you've blown me off on." He paused for a moment before adding, "I'm beginning to think you're trying to tell me something."

"No!" Soap rushed to speak, but he cut himself off as Roach rolled his hips against him again. "No, ah, uh, no Roach, that's not what's been happening."

"Why then?" Roach asked the words carefully. He carded a hand through Soap's hair, tugging until the other was forced to meet his eyes and hold his gaze as Roach asked, "Is your work more important than me?"

"No," Soap was quick to assure, "of course not Roach thats not- oh fuck!"

Roach cut him off with a hand pressed against his crotch, palming him through his pants. He could feel as the other was growing harder against him. "Really? Then why won't you pay attention to me, hmm?"

"I do pay attention to you," Soap moved his hands from the arms of his chair, once again wrapping the around Roach's waist to tug him closer, "I've just been -"

"Ignoring me," Roach finished, glaring him down, "and blowing me off for paperwork. Is paperwork more interesting than me?" He tilted his head before moving closer, not stopping until his lips were just hovering over Soap's.

"No," Soap shook his head rapidly, "of course not."

"Apparently, it is." Roach reached back to once again grab Soap's hands and press them against the arms of the chair. He gave the man a glare before releasing his grip on Soap's wrists, reminding the man with only a look that he shouldn't move. A hand returned to Soap's hair, giving a slight tug at the strands between his fingers. Soap groaned at the slight pain.

"Since you can't pay attention to me," Roach rolled his hips against Soap's again, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as he felt Soap's hard cock against his own arousal, "You're going to keep your hands off and watch. Understand?"

He tugged at Soap's hair again and, in return, he recieved several rapid nods from the man.

"Good boy," Roach leaned forward to press a short kiss to Soap's lips, only letting the touch linger for a moment before pulling back.

He leaned away from Soap, just enough that he could get a hand between them. He let his fingers brush down Soap's chest, a sick amusement filling him as Soap tried to subtly lean into the touch. He trailed his hand down further and further until he could press his hand against the prominent bulge in his boyfriend's pants.

He took his time, offering a teasing massage of his hand over the other man. Soap's head tilted back, little gasps of pleasure leaving his mouth as Roach touched him. "God," Roach watched as his eyes closed and his mouth fell open. "You're so perfect. It feels so good."

Roach removed his hand at those words, causing Soap to lean back up and look down between them. Roach didn't touch him again, and he hardly paid him any mind. Instead, he let his hands lower to his own pants.

He wasted no time, swiftly undoing his belt, followed by the button and zipper of his trousers. He tucked his hand into his pants, stroking himself over his underwear for a long moment, letting Soap watch the movement of his hand and hear his little pants and moans.

"If only it was you touching me," Roach whispered the words, letting them sit heavily between them as he finally pulled his underwear down, pulling his hard cock out to let it rest between their bodies. The tip of his cock was resting against Soap's stomach and Roach could hear his boyfriend's stuttered breath.

"It could be me touching you," Soap managed to choke out. He and Roach gave a simultaneous groan as Roach wrapped a hand around himself, starting a slow rhythm with his hand. Roach noted the harsh grip that Soap had on the chair, clearly wanting to move and take over control of the situation.

Roach let himself fuck his fist, moving with slow but tight strokes over his cock. He felt unbelievably hot and he had to admit that having Soap underneath him, listening to whatever he said, it was so hot. It was meant to be a punishment and make the other realize what hecwas missing, but Roach found himself enjoying the desperate attention and pleas of the man underneath him.

"No, no," Roach sped his hand up, the feel of his hand on his heated skin was almost too much, "you clearly don't want to touch me." He leaned back, using Soap's desk to keep himself up and push himself that much further from Soap's touch. He tilted his head back as he sped his movements up, fucking his fist quicker with little jerks of his hips. "Fuck," he whined out.

"Roach," Soap gave a groan, "I'm sorry, really I-"

"You're not sorry," Roach cut him off, his voice a mix of harsh desperation. "You just want to touch." He brought his free hand up, slipping it under his shirt to toy with his nipples beneath the fabric. He could hear Soap's breath hitch at the move. "Is this what I have to do to get your attention?"

He flicked a finger over one of his nipples, trying to mimic the way that Soap would always tease him when they were together. It wasn't the exact same, but it was good enough for Roach, who happily groaned at the feeling. Every touch sent a spark down his spine that went straight to his aching cock. Every groan and desperate plea for him that left Soap's mouth followed a similar path, though they burned Roach with both pleasure and anger.

Several moments of silence lingered between the two, filled only with the sounds of Roach's pleasured moans and Soap's answering groans. Roach could feel how hard the man was underneath him, the length of him pressing against his ass. Roach gave himself a moment longer of just stroking over his cock before he finally started to rock his hips, grinding purposefully against the man beneath him.

Soap's own hips jolted up a bit, trying hard to seek some sort of relief to his own arousal. Roach allowed him the movement, knowing that it was next to nothing for the man beneath him. He knew that it would take Soap much more than the rocking pressure that he was offering. The man would only drive himself crazier. The thought made him feel a bit satisfied. Let Soap be the one craving his attention.

Their moans joined together, both of them panting and groaning as the temperature around them grew hotter and hotter. Roach sped up his hand, his legs beginning to shake just a bit as pleasure zipped up his spine and coiled tighter and tighter in his gut.

His skin felt hotter and hotter, and soon, he was jerking forward, burying his face into Soap's neck as it grew to be almost too much for him. He whined into Soap's neck, pressing desperate kisses there as he continued to fuck into his fist, the tip of his cock rutting up against Soap's shirt adding just an extra bit of pleasure.

"I miss you," he managed to choke out between his moans, "I miss you so much. Fuck I want- oh," he gave several open mouthed pants against Soap's shoulder. He could feel as one of Soap's hands moved away from the seat to grab at his hips, helping him continue to rock forward into his fist. He couldn't find it in himself to chide Soap at the moment, not when he felt an odd mix of anger, sadness, and overwhelming pleasure swarming together to create a cocktail of desire.

"I wish you would choose me over work," he managed to choke out after a moment, "I wish you'd pay attention to me."

There was no moment for Soap to respond. Roach was already too far gone, his mind fizzing out around the pleasure of his hand as his words devolved into nothing but chants of Soap's name. It only took him a few move moments before his body went completely tense, his cock jerking in his hand as pleasure washed over him and he came across Soap's stomach.

He collapsed fully against Soap's shoulder, a small whimper escaping his throat as his oversensative cock brushed against the other's now dirtied shirt. Soap helped him settle down fully into his lap. Neither of them said a word, even as Soap remained hard against Roach's thigh. They just sat there for several moments, wrapped up in the other.

Eventually, Roach pulled back and started to climb off of Soap and fix himself up. He tucked himself back into his pants and started to redo his belt

"Um," his voice cracked a bit, and he reached up to wipe at his face, already feeling as though tears were slipping down his face, "I'm gonna go back to the room. I'll see you when you get done?"

"Roach," Soap tugged him closer, reaching out to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. Roach placed his hands on Soap's shoulder and looked down at him, trying hard not to let too much show on his face. Soap met his eyes and held his gaze for a moment. "I am sorry."

"Soap," Roach started trying to tug himself away, but he was quickly pulled back by Soap.

"No," Soap tugged him back, "I really am sorry, okay? I didn't realize what I was doing. I didn't realize I was hurting you." He tucked Roach tight against him, holding him as close as he could. "It's not an excuse. I shouldn't have done it."

"It's fine," Roach muttered quietly. He brought a hand up to Soap's hair, petting through it for several moments as Soap laid a head on his chest. "I know work is important."

"Not as important as you," Soap whispered back. Roach felt himself go warm at the words, a fluttery feeling blossoming in his chest. Hearing those words made him feel good. It made him feel wanted. "I'll make this up to you."

Roach shook his head, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth, "Soap you don't have to-"

"I'm serious," Soap stood from his seat and pressed Roach back against the desk. "I'll take the entire day off, and I'll make the plans." He leaned forward to press a short kiss to the corner of Roach's mouth, "I won't even bring my phone. It'll be a day about just me and you. I'll give you all the attention that you deserve."

He pressed forward again, capturing Roach's mouth against his own in a slow kiss. Roach couldn't help but relax into the feeling, letting Soap work his magic with his mouth. It was calming to just let Soap press into him like this. "I would like that," Roach muttered against his lips. "I would really like that."

Soap pulls back and grabs Roach's hand in his own. "C'mon, let's go get something to eat. I can finish this stuff up tomorrow."

He starts tugging Roach toward the door, but Roach yanks back on his hand, stopping him. When he turns back to Roach with an eyebrow raised, he's met with a slight grin from the other. "Maybe we should both go change first? And take care of some other things."

Roach motioned down at Soap's body, toward the cum still staining his shirt and the very clear hard on that he still had. There was a moment of silence as Soap looked down at himself before he gave a quiet, "Ah," and looked back up to meet Roach's eyes. He watched for a moment as Roach tried to hide his laughter behind his hands. He could feel amusement pull at him as he took stock of the situation. "This is your fault you know."

Soap took a step toward Roach, a grin on his face. Roach gave another laugh into his hands and took another step back, "It absolutely is not."

"It is," Soap chimed. He started toward Roach with a grin, and Roach gave a nervous squeak before rushing back around the desk with a laugh, "You've got to help me with this, you know?"

"No, no," Roach tried to dodge around Soap, but he was quickly hauled back toward Soap and pressed closer to him again. He gave a laugh, completely uncaring as the cum on Soap's shirt transferred to his own. It already had once before, so he wasn't too worried. Instead, his attention was focused on the hard cock he could feel pressed against him.

"C'mon," Soap nipped at his neck, a grin clear to hear in his voice, "didn't you want my attention? You've got all of it now, Bug."

Roach did always enjoy Soap's attention.

#gary roach sanderson #john soap mactavish #call of duty #soaproach #captain mactavish #simon ghost riley #call of duty fanfic

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