#what are you supposed to do if you love him very very much ;_;

[sibylsleaves]

the thing that really kills me about the Buck-Eddie-Chris dynamic is that it's not just that Buck is ALWAYS going to be there for them. It's that Eddie KNOWS that. It's that Eddie EXPECTS that. It's that he's had that expectation since before the tsunami.

He knows Buck loves them. He knows he loves Chris. He knows that Chris is and never has been a burden to Buck. He dropped his eight-year-old son off at his depressed best friend's apartment and said BYE HAVE FUN. like. that wasn't a request.

And EVERY time since we've seen Eddie entrust Christopher to Buck, it's never framed as a request. It's an expectation. It's a fact. It's an intrinsic truth he has never questioned. The will is obviously the most glaring example but the expectation is there EVERY time. it's in the way in 5x13 he apologizes TO Buck for scaring Chris. It's in s6 when Eddie asks Buck if Christopher is telling Buck his secrets, fully expecting that if there's something HE doesn't know about his son, Buck will. it's during the lightning strike when Chris demands to go see Buck and Eddie capitulates, because Chris's relationship with Buck is not something he can or ever will stand between. it's in the way in 7x01 Eddie says "Nothing. Not yet. I was kinda hoping...you would!" sounds almosttttt like a request but the way he says it very much isn't. It's "i do not know how to handle this so I am handing it off to you. BYE HAVE FUN."

Buck is not Christopher's dad. But he IS Eddie's coparent. That's pretty indisputable at this point. He treats him like one in almost every way. He doesn't just KNOW Buck will be there for Chris even when Eddie can't. he EXPECTS it.

And the thing is, Chris expects it, too!!!!! He called Buck in s5. He sat down with Buck and opened up about his complicated feelings about his mom in 7x01. Buck has been the most stable adult figure in Chris's life other than his dad for almost SEVEN years at this point.

The other thing is, I don't think Buck even realizes how important it is that they have that expectation. that they're ABLE to rely on him and trust him so intrinsically. that it's never been a question for either of them that Buck is supposed to be with them. HE knows he'll always be there for them, no matter what, no questions asked. ("I'm here, what can i do?") but I don't think he understands how monumental it is that Chris and Eddie both know that, too.

#sibyl speaks #911 spoilers #having so many buckley-diaz thoughts that scene made me so insane #what is going to happen to me when i watch the episode #i might die fr

[cutielando]

Okay I have a request. Lando with his long time girlfriend and when Oscar joins the team they warn him to stay away from Lando’s drivers room after a race because him and reader love to ‘celebrate’ no matter the result of the race. And Oscar finds out the hard way. But McLaren are like use to it. 🤭🧡

Please and thank you.

a/n: i'm sorry this is short, but i literally couldn't come up with more for this :((( i'm trying to push through my little writer's block and put out as many fics as i possibly can while i still have a little time (i have my first exam on Thursday and I have so much shit to learn it's actually not even funny, but here i am writing fics instead of doing just that, yay me)

In all fairness, Oscar had been well warned about Lando and his girlfriend’s antics post-races. Given that the walls in the motorhome were very thin, as Oscar had stated previously, the team felt like they should let Oscar know what he was in for.

He hadn’t quite taken to heart what he had been told. He had been thinking to himself, how bad can it actually be? And oh boy, it was bad.

You and Lando had made a pact from the beginning of your relationship and when you started coming to all of his races that you would do something to celebrate his every race outcome, no matter how good or bad. You vowed to see every race as something positive and take something from each one.

The McLaren team had become accustomed to your shenanigans, knowing not to go anywhere near Lando’s driver room in the hours after the race. They had come to learn to stay away the hard way, if you know what I mean.

And yet, Oscar chose to ignore them. Why? He didn’t even know.

Maybe it was just pure curiosity, maybe it was ignorance, one could only make suppositions. 

If he had managed not to hear anything that even remotely resembled the warnings he had been given up until that moment, he was in for a treat this time.

You had attended the Miami GP with Lando, catching a break from your studies and having promised him that he wouldn’t have to go to a race alone after failing to attend Japan. And imagine the joy you had felt once Lando had taken the checkered flag in P1. Scratch that, imagine what was going through your mind about the celebrations you were about to have with Lando as soon as he came back to the motorhome ;).

Your boyfriend had been thinking the exact same way, trying to make his way back to the hospitality as soon as he possibly could, but still politely stopping for interviews and photos or autographs.

But once he finally reached his room and saw you waiting for him, dressed only in your underwear, he knew he was in for an enormous treat.

Oscar hadn’t heard Lando get back. He had been so deep into thought and so focused on the music he had been listening to with headphones on that he hadn’t heard the door opening, the squeals that you let out once Lando had practically pounced on you as soon as he locked the door. 

However, he was pulled out of his thoughts when he started hearing bangs, moans and dirty talking through his wall. At first he had thought he was hearing things. There was no way you were actually celebrating that loudly, right?

Wrong.

When he turned off the music and took off his headphones, he realized just how fucking loud you guys were being.

He didn’t even know how to react. What was he even supposed to do? Was he just supposed to leave his room and find somewhere else to hang out until you guys were done? Should he knock on your door and ask you guys to keep it down? No, Lando deserved the win and winding down whatever way he saw fit.

Sighing, he felt himself growing redder once the sounds on the other side of the wall only intensified. He couldn’t just stand around and listen to his teammate probably getting the fuck of his life after his maiden win, so he figured he would just get something to eat and hang out with either Mark or Logan.

The moment a member of the PR team, David, had seen him coming from his room, his cheeks a heavy crimson and refusing to make eye contact with anyone, he realized Oscar had just been the victim of Y/N and Lando.

“You heard them, didn’t you?” David asked him, an amused smile stretching on his face.

Oscar blushed even heavier, if that was even possible. Shyly, he nodded, making David laugh and pat him on the back.

“I didn’t think they were actually that bad” Oscar said, playing with his fingers as his ears could still pick up the noises he had done his best to avoid.

“We tried telling you, you didn’t want to believe us” David chuckled, patting him on the back again as he departed.

When you and Lando finally emerged from his room almost an hour later, the both of you laughed when you noticed how Oscar was avoiding eye contact with the both of you.

Poor Oscar…

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#imagines #oneshots #fanfiction #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris blurb #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #oscar piastri #lando norris one shot #lando norris drabble #lando norris first win #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #mclaren #mclaren f1

[joeshiestyslover]

moth to a flame- m. sturniolo

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: you and matt have hated each other since you were kids, you two constantly bickering and arguing. however, there has always been an underlying tension, but you and matt have always chosen to ignore it. yet, the unspoken tension begins to break when another guy takes an interest in you.

warnings: language, angst, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), fluff, cheating (don’t do this either pls), nick once again being a g

masterlist

lowercase intended

a/n: does the smut suck? yes probably but it’s okay 😌

“you have a date? how much did you pay him?” matt asks you, a snark evident in his tone. you roll your eyes at his comment. “guys find me very likable, thank you very much.” you retort. “oh i’m sure.” he scoffs. “can you just shut the hell up?” you snap, looking into the eyes of the boy you’ve hated since freshman year.

you met the triplets when you moved to boston in the ninth grade. you shared a class with nick, and you two quickly hit it off. he then introduced you to his two brothers, matt and chris. chris was super sweet and welcoming towards you, but matt was the complete opposite. he barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was to make some snide remark. at first, you let it slide, thinking he was just uncomfortable around new people, but the mean comments never subsided, so one day, you snapped back at him, much to his surprise. thus began the endless fighting and screaming matches between the both of you. it got so bad that nick and chris wouldn’t allow you two alone in the same room out of fear that you might kill each other. you two found ways to argue about anything, even things as stupid as what the best soda is.

although you hate matt with every fiber in your being, you still love nick and chris as if they were your own brothers, and they obviously felt the same. when their youtube channel first blew up, you were always by their side to support them. eventually, they decided they were going to move to los angeles, and they asked you to go with them. you immediately accepted because the course you wanted to study in college had great programs in los angeles.

you’re currently in the triplets’ apartment, telling them about the most recent development in your life: you got a date. “y/n, just ignore matt.” nick interrupts yours and matt’s squabble. “so, what’s his name? how did you meet him?” nick asks excitedly. “well, his name’s blake and we met at the coffee shop on campus.” you smile. matt rolls his eyes. “blake? the guy sounds like a douchebag.” “and you would know all about douchebags wouldn’t you?” you ask with a false sweetness in your voice. “what the hell is that supposed to mean? you saying i’m a douchebag?” matt narrows his eyes at you. “if the shoe fits.” you shrug. “okay can you guys not for like two seconds?” chris asks. you raise your hands up in surrender, “fine but he started it.” “sure blame me for everything.” matt says sarcastically. “fuck off.” you reply. “guys seriously, stop.” nick tells you sternly. “anyway where are you and blake going?” chris asks, trying to lessen the tension between you and matt. “we’re going to this restaurant down the street from my apartment. it’s pretty nice actually.” you tell him, smiling slightly. you then stand up and grab your car keys. “i’m gonna go get ready, and i’ll tell you guys all about it after.” “you better!” nick yells out after you as you walk out the door towards your car.

nick watches you leave, then turns to matt, “we need to talk.” matt raises an eyebrow, “okay…” he says hesitantly, setting down his phone. “what the fuck is up with you and y/n?” “what do you mean?” matt asks. “you two have been at each other’s throats for years! it’s so exhausting watching you two constantly fight over dumb shit!” nick yells at him. “what about her? why is she not included in this conversation?” he retorts. “because you started this shit! you were awful to her when you first met! this whole situation could have been avoided if you were man enough to tell her you like her!” matt’s taken aback by nick’s outburst. “tell her what?” he asks, hoping he heard his brother wrong. “come on matt, it’s obvious that you like her.” nick deadpans. “you’re kidding right? she’s disgusting, and not to mention, a total bitch. how you guys tolerate her shit, i’ll never know, but i sure as hell won’t.” matt rants. “okay matt, whatever you need to tell yourself.” chris adds, rolling his eyes. “you agree with nick? seriously?” matt turns to the youngest triplet. chris just shrugs, “i mean, yeah. i might be an idiot, but even i can tell that you like her.” matt scoffs, “fuck you guys. i’m going for a drive. i’ll be back later.” he stands up and grabs his keys. he then walks out the front door, making sure to slam it shut.

matt gets into his car and begins to drive, not knowing where to go. during his drive, thoughts of you begin to invade matt’s head. there is absolutely no way he likes you. you’re annoying, you’re stubborn, and you’re just so insufferable to be around. sure, you’re conventionally attractive, but that doesn’t mean anything, it actually pisses matt off more because he doesn’t understand how such a pretty face could have such an awful personality paired with it.

after driving for a while, an idea pops into matt’s head. matt knows you well enough to know which restaurant you would go to because it was always one of your favorites. he begins to drive that way and plots what he’s going to do once he gets there. after a few moments of contemplating, he decides to just sit a couple of tables away from you and your date, just to make you uncomfortable and on edge.

he arrives at the restaurant and walks in through the large glass doors at the front of the building. the moment he walks in, he can spot you and blake in the back. you’re laughing at something he said, and an unfamiliar feeling began to pool in the pit of matt’s stomach. his thoughts are cut off by the hostess coming up to the stand, “how many?” she asks. “umm just one, and is there any way i can get a table back there?” he points to where you’re sitting. “of course. follow me.” she smiles as she begins to walk towards the your table, matt following close behind. “here you are, sir.” the hostess sets the menu down on the table before walking away. he sits down and looks at the menu, waiting for you to notice his presence.

as you’re talking to blake, you notice a familiar head of hair out of the corner of your eye. you look over an see matt sitting diagonally across from your table. your eyes widen when your eyes meet his. what the fuck is he doing here? you try your best to ignore him, but you can see him continuously glancing at you. blake notices you looking over to your right. “are you okay, y/n? is something wrong?” he asks. your eyes snap back to his. “no i thought i saw something, but i didn’t.” blake just shrugs and continues talking. you try to listen to his words, but you can’t. your mind constantly drifts back to the brown-haired boy sitting to your right.

after a couple hours, and some very awkward glances to matt, your date finally ends. you and blake bid each other goodnight before you walk back to your car. you see matt walking to his own car and you send him with a death glare, to which he just responds with a cocky smile. you wait for him to drive out of the parking lot, and once he does, you follow him home, wanting answers as to why he thought it was a good idea to crash your date.

as he pulls into his garage, you park on the street. you turn your engine off and get out of the car, storming through the front door, where you see matt standing in the kitchen. you walk over to him and slam your purse down on the counter.

“why do you feel the need to ruin every good thing that comes my way? what do you have to gain from that?” you ask matt frustratedly. “i don’t ruin every good thing. i just wanted to make sure he’s good for you.” he replies nonchalantly. “that’s not for you to decide matthew!” you yell, moving closer to him. “y/n, you just need to trust me.” his calmness is pissing you off even more. “but i don’t trust you! all you’ve done since we met is berate me and talk shit about me! how can i trust your words when i can’t even trust you?!” you begin to wave your arms frantically. “look,” he begins, “i know guys like that and i just-” “guys like what matt? guys like you?” you ask accusingly. “no. guys that will treat a girl right until they get into her pants and then leave once they get what they want.” you scoff at his words. who does he think he is? “you don’t know what you’re talking about. did he say something to make you believe he’s like that?” matt averts his gaze to the floor. “no, but i have a feeling.” you laugh, not believing the words that are leaving his mouth. “a feeling? so you just made it up.” he looks back up at you. “god, i didn’t make it up y/n! stop being so naive and open your fucking eyes!” matt begins to raise his voice. “you are such a fucking asshole! you have no right to stick your nose in my love life! just because no one wants you doesn’t mean you get project that onto me!” you yell in his face, seething with rage. matt’s face turns cold, his eyes boring into yours with a look you can’t make out. he remains silent for a few seconds. “what no snarky comment? did i hit a sore spot? it’s so pathetic that you’re so insecure that you feel the need to-” you’re cut off by a pair of lips smashing against yours. your eyes widen and you can feel yourself almost melting into the kiss before you realize who it is you’re kissing. you quickly shove him backwards, and matt stumbles a little. you look into his eyes, the both of you saying nothing. you don’t know what comes over you, but before you can think it through, you take a step forward, grab the back of his neck, and press your lips against matt’s once again. the kiss is rough, teeth and tongues clashing together. 

matt’s kisses begin to fall from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking as he goes further and further down. “matt” you moan breathlessly. “what is it baby?” he asks in a husky voice and you could cum from just the sound of his voice. “we should go to your room.” you say between small moans. you can feel him nod against the crook of your neck as he put his hand under your ass to pick you up. you immediately wrap your legs around his waist as he begins to walk towards his room. you get into his room and he sits down on the edge of his bed, so now you’re in his lap.

matt removes his head from your collarbone and he finds your lips again. you subconsciously begin to move your hips against his, a soft groan leaving his lips and you can feel yourself clench at the noise. matt’s hands slowly trail up your back and you can feel his right hand grip your hair. he gives it a quick but firm tug, pulling your head back which gives him the opportunity to attack your jawline. “matt please.” you breathe out, needing his touch. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, knowing damn well what you want. “i need you.” he looks up at you with a smirk on his face. “yeah? then show me how bad you need me.” you feel his grip on you relax slightly, so you get off his lap and drop to your knees. your eyes immediately find the large tent in his sweats. you can feel your mouth water with desire.

you grab his dick through his pants and matt lets out a light gasp. “don’t tease me baby.” you bite your lip and tug his sweatpants down to his thighs, his extremely hard dick slapping against his stomach. you wrap your hand around his base and begin to stroke him up and down. you then bring your lip to his tip, giving it a few kitten licks. matt’s hand finds your hair and forces himself down your throat. you feel your eyes begin to water as you find your rhythm. you continue to bob your head up and down and pump what you can’t fit in your mouth. “fuckkk” matt moans, his hand tightly gripping your hair. “i’m gonna cum baby.” you quicken your pace and you can feel your cunt dripping, making a mess between your thighs. matt’s groans become louder and louder as he feels himself getting closer. his dick twitches in your mouth and you still your movements, feeling his thick ropes of cum hitting the back of your throat. you swallow every drop before pulling off him, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath.

“fuck that was so good.” he praises you as he grabs your hands and leads you back onto the bed. he flips the two of you around so now he’s on top of you. “you’re such a good girl for me.” he says before he kisses you again. he bites your bottom lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. you can feel his dick sliding up and down your clothed cunt. “please fuck me matt.” you whine against his lips. “patience baby.” he demands. his hands find the waistband of your pants, yanking them down so your bottom half is only covered by your thin panties. he looks down and sees the wet patch that covers the bottom of them. “holy fuck you’re soaked. you really liked sucking me off that much, huh?” he then gets up on his knees and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach, and you can somehow feel yourself become wetter. “how bad do you want me?” he asks you cockily. “so bad matty. please fuck me.” he chuckles, “so needy.” he then lines himself up to your leaking hole, swiping his tip against your clit a few times before sliding himself inside you slowly. you let out a loud moan and he covers your mouth. “shhh baby. we don’t want nick or chris to hear how good i’m making feel do we?” you shake your head as he continues to rut his hips into yours. he removes his hand from your mouth and it soon finds its place on your throat. “fuck you’re so fucking tight. oh my god.” he throws his head back in pleasure as you moan out his name. “you’re such a little slut for me aren’t you? you like it when i fuck you like this?” he smirks down at you, admiring the way your jaw was slack and your eyes rolled back. he tightens his grip around your neck as a warning, “answer me or i’ll stop.” “fuck yes matt i love it.” you moan out. he takes his hand off your neck and trails it down to your clit. he begins to rub it in small, tight circles and you can feel the coil in your stomach begin to form.

“fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum soon.” he picks up his pace, going harder as his hand rubs your clit faster. you can feel yourself begin to clench around him, matt starting to let out broken moans at the sensation. “you gonna cum baby?” you nod, on the verge of cumming around him. “give it to me baby. cum on my dick.” he urges. at his words, you let go, letting out a loud and long moan as you release around his dick. matt’s pace begins to falter as he feels himself about to fall apart too. “where do you want it baby?” “inside me please.” you beg. he twitches inside of you and you can feel him cumming inside you, painting your swollen walls white as he lets out a groan of your name. he stills inside you for a few seconds before pulling out. he gets up from the bed and walks to his bathroom. you feel the sink run and turn off and he returns to the bed with a damp towel. he begins to clean you up a bit before tossing the towel to the side. he crawls towards you and lies down next you, pulling you into his arms.

you both lie in his bed for a few more minutes before you speak up. “this can’t happen again.” matt turns to look at you, “why not?” he questions. “i don’t want to hurt blake. he’s a good guy.” matt scoffs. “sure he is.” he says, sarcasm evident in his tone. “you don’t even know him matt.” you try to reason. “i don’t need to know the guy to know he’s an asshole. his name’s blake, and that says enough.” you roll your eyes at his childish behavior. “okay matt whatever.” you pull the covers off your body and you begin to put your clothes back on. matt grabs your arms and spins you around to face him. he looks into your eyes for a few moments before crashing his lips against yours. you want to pull away, but you can’t. the kiss becomes more and more heated as he backs you up until you’re both lying on the bed with him on top of you. “this is the last time.” you demand, knowing that’s probably a lie. “no it’s not.” he says against your lips as he begins to trail kisses down your neck.

weeks pass by, and you and matt are still hooking up. because of this, you’ve become more tolerant towards each other. you don’t necessarily like one another, but you can at least go a day without arguing. nick and chris begin to notice the change in dynamic between the both of you. they don’t ask questions because they’re just happy you all can hang out without the two of them being caught in the middle of one of your petty arguments.

much to matt’s dismay however, blake is still in the picture. you haven’t become official with him yet, but you both have gone on many more dates and even kissed a few times. of course, you felt bad for lying to blake, but what are you supposed to do? you just can’t escape matt. you’re a moth to his flame. you’ve come so close to breaking it off with matt, but each time you fail, somehow always ending up naked in his bed.

this is one of those times. you came over to the boys’ apartment to break it off with matt, but of course, you couldn’t. instead, you’re pinned against the wall of his bedroom. “matt we can’t keep doing this.” you breathe out against his lips. “doing what?” he asks, backing away and raising one eyebrow. “hating each other in public and fucking in private. i can’t do that to blake.” you try to reason with him, but matt simply rolls his eyes. “then just end things with him. i told you he isn’t good for you.” “he’s a good guy, matt.” you reply. matt takes a step closer to you, “well, if he’s such a good guy, then why are you here? why aren’t you with him?” he asks, knowing the answer. you look down and shake your head, “i don’t know. i shouldn’t be here. i should go.” you grab your purse from the counter and swing it over your shoulder, but before you can walk towards the door, matt grabs your wrist. “wait, don’t go.” you turn towards him, “why not?” there’s a few seconds of silence before matt answers your question. “i don’t want you to.” “okay.” you concede.

about a week later, you get a text from blake, asking you to go over to his apartment. you get into your car and drive to his place. you get out and walk up to his door, knocking twice. he open the door with a smile on his face, and it fills you with guilt. he invites you in and sits you down on his couch. “so i invited you here because i wanted to ask you something.” he begins. you nod, nervous for what he’s about to say. “i wanted to know if you would be my girlfriend.” he asks hopefully. you sigh softly and look down. you can’t hold it in any longer. you can’t keep lying to the poor guy. “look, you’re an amazing guy, don’t get me wrong, but i can’t” you tell him. his smile drops instantly. “oh. can i ask why. i thought we were doing good.” “i’m just not ready to be in a serious relationship. i thought i was, but now i know i’m not.” it’s not totally a lie. you’re not ready for a relationship with someone that isn’t matt. “okay i understand.” he says sadly. “i think i should leave. i’m so sorry blake, but i know you’ll find someone as great as you are.” you smile to try and lift the mood. he just nods while staring at the ground. you stand up from his couch and walk out the door, wracked with guilt.

you get in your car and drive to the triplets’ apartment, needing to talk to matt. you have to tell him how you feel. you arrive at their apartment and place your car in park. you walk up to the door and knock. you wait for a few seconds before the door opens, revealing matt. “hi.” you break the silence. “what’s up? you need something?” he inquires. “i actually need to talk to you.” you can feel butterflies in your stomach as you rock back and forth on your feet. “ummm okay come in.” he motions for you to enter the apartment. you walk inside and matt closes the door behind you. you both stand in the living room and you set your keys and phone down on their counter. he stands there, waiting for you to speak.

“i broke up with him” you break the silence. “what? why?” matt questions, his head immediately perking up. “you were right. he wasn’t good for me.” he scoffs, “well no shit. what does that have to do with me?” “i also broke up with him because i realized something.” are you really about to do this? are you really about to confess your feelings to the boy you’ve hated for years? matt gives you a look, telling you to go on. “i know we’ve always hated each other, but since we started sleeping together, i realized that i don’t want blake. i want you, and not just in a sexual way. i want to actually be with you.” you take a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding, waiting anxiously for his response, but he says nothing. “matt? please say something.” matt looks down at the floor and shakes his head slightly. “i can’t, y/n.” he says softly. “can’t what?” you’re confused now. what the hell does that mean? “i can’t be with you.” your heart drops. “why not?” you ask. “i… i just can’t.” you’re start to become irritated at his words. “what can’t you do matt?!” “i can’t give you what you want. you want to date and do couple-y stuff and i can’t do that.” his gaze remains on the floor. “so i’m good enough to fuck, but not good enough to date?” you ask condescendingly. “that’s not what i’m saying, i just-” “you just what matt?! what is so awful about being in a relationship?!” you begin to yell. “i don’t do relationships! the fact that you’re whining and screaming about it is the reason i don’t! you’re being fucking dramatic and i’m sick of it! we’re not dating and we’re never going to so just accept it and stop being so fucking clingy!” he yells back at you. your jaw drops to the floor at his words. “fuck you matthew. don’t text me again.” you walk towards the front door, making sure to bump his shoulder on the way out. you open the door and slam it shut, shaking the walls of the apartment.

hearing the commotion, chris and nick walk downstairs into the living room. “what the hell happened?” nick asks. “nothing happened. she’s just being a bitch as usual.” matt replies, rubbing his temples. “what did you say to her?” nick sighs, knowing you’d never react that way unless matt said something really fucked up. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” nick scoffs. “well too bad. if i just lost my best friend because of you then we’re gonna talk about it.” nick and chris drag matt over to the couch and sit down. matt sighs and begins to explain everything that happened between the two of you. “why would you say something like that to her?” chris asks him, disappointed in his older brother. “i told you, i’m not a relationship guy.” nick looks at him with a look of worry. “but do you like her?” matt looks at him and nods. “then tell her that you dumb fuck! you just broke her heart for no reason!” he yells in matt’s face. “look, i can’t do this right now. i’m going to bed.” matt sighs softly as he walks out of the room.

as soon as matt gets into his room, he shuts the door, lying down in his bed. his mind is racing with thoughts of you. nick was right. he should have told you that he wanted to date you too, but he was too much of a pussy to actually say it, so he hurt you instead. matt knows you’re probably still mad at him and would slam the door in his face if he went over to your house now, so he decides to wait a day or two. after contemplating it, matt walks over to nick’s room and opens the door, knowing he needs help getting you back. “how do i win her back nick?” he sits down on his brother’s bed. “look, i don’t know if she would take you back for sure, but what you need to do is give her a heartfelt apology and tell her how you feel. that’s your best bet.” matt nods, taking in everything he says. “and flowers. get her some flowers.” “i’ll go over there tomorrow.” matt states. “good because if i lose my best friend, i’ll actually kill you.” nick says with a glare.

the next day, matt woke up ready to prove to you that he wants to be your boyfriend. however, the anxiety was pooling in his stomach. what if you didn’t want him? what if you went back to blake? he tried to push those thoughts out of his mind, but they still lingered.

once he gathered the courage, he got up out of bed, throwing on a sweater and some jeans. he looks at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair until it looks presentable enough. matt throws on his shoes and grabbing his keys. he begins to walk towards the front door when he passes by nick on the couch. “good luck matt.” nick tells him. matt just nods and walks out the door towards his minivan.

on the way to your house, he stops by a flower stand and gets you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, hoping that it’s enough for you to forgive him. as he speeds toward your house, matt’s mind is going a million miles a minute. he’s continuously going over what he’s going to say to you in his head. his thoughts are cut off by him arriving at your apartment. matt looks at himself in the mirror once more before grabbing the flowers and stepping out of the car.

matt walked up to your front door and took a deep breath before knocking. he waited a few seconds then the door swung open, revealing you. your hair looks disheveled and your eyes puffy. “what are you doing here?” you cross your arms at the boy. “i’m sorry y/n. i’m so sorry.” he holds out the flowers for you to take. you grab them hesitantly and turn around to put them in a vase. matt follows you inside towards your kitchen. “so are you gonna tell me what you’re doing here or can you leave now?” you ask, a harsh tone in your voice. matt sighs, “you were right. i’m an asshole. i never should have said those things to you. i was just so scared.” you tilt your head to the side. “scared? of what?” “what i feel for you, what i’ve felt for you since i met you, it’s unlike anything i’ve felt before. i’ve been in love with you for years, and i was too fucking stupid to tell you. i’m sorry for everything i’ve done to you over the years. you didn’t deserve any of it.” you can see matt’s eyes start to become glossy as you step towards him. “what changed all of a sudden? last night you were dead set on not being with me, but now you do? that doesn’t make any sense matt.” you tell him, still skeptical. “nick and chris laid into me last night. they made me realize that i hurt you for no reason and that i was being selfish. i told you i didn’t want to be with you, but it was a lie. being with you is all i’ve ever wanted and when it was right in front of me i panicked. i know that i probably fucked everything up, but please, if there’s any part of you that can forgive me, please give me one more chance. let me prove to you that i can be the man you deserve.” you take a deep breath, tears beginning to invade your waterline. you want to tell him off so bad. you want to tell him that you would never take him back, but you can’t. before you can overthink it, you take a few steps towards matt and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. “do you really mean it?” you ask him softly. “i mean it baby. i promise i’ll never hurt you again.” he pulls away and looks down at you with a small smile on his face. you reciprocate the smile as he begins to lean down. your lips brush against each other before he presses his lips against yours. the kiss isn’t like any other kiss you’ve shared before; it’s soft and sweet instead of hard and rough. you both break away and rest your forehead on his. “you’re so beautiful, y’know that?” you feel your face heat up and a smile forming on your face. “shut up.” you tell him before reaching up and kissing him once more.

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x you #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo angst #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets

[qiwoomi]

gender reveal

gojo x fem! pregnant reader

established relationship (married), fluff, comfort, pregnancy, overall just gojo being the best hubby, not proofread so it might be cringe, inspired from a video I came across

The weather was nice, a perfect day for a picnic.

And what's better is the fact that you can finally spend time alone with the love of your life, Gojo Satoru.

He does most of the work, setting up the mat, making sure to put another on them to make sure that you're comfortable as he knows how much you hate feeling the prickly grass under you.

"Do you want me to help?" You muttered softly, sitting on a foldable chair as you watch admire Satoru. He flashed a charming smile at you, finally done with everything as he approaches you. "My pretty baby shouldn't lift a hand at all, having you here is already enough." He kissed your ring finger, making you fall over him again.

You slightly pout, before he gently pull you up from the chair, his hand behind your back as he guides you to sit on the mat. "It's not a big deal though, I can do it still." I mumbled, as Satoru opened the basket to reveal various type of food.

"It's a big deal for me." He chuckled, carefully taking out the food out of the basket as he pressed a chaste kiss on your lips.

Comfortable silence lingered for a while, as you observed the nature around you. The birds singing, the winds breeze, the scent of nature around you, and most importantly your husband. Your hand caressed your stomach, as your eyes landed on the cake that Satoru just take out.

"Ohoho, I didn't know you brought us a cake." He mused, licking the cream from his finger as you lightly swatted his hand. "Well that, I haven't tell you for a reason." You muttered, as Satoru turned his attention to you.

"Hm, what is it about baby?" He cooed, noticing the slight change in your tone.

"Remember when I talked about doing a gender reveal?" You start, as Satoru hummed at your words. "Well, it's today." You blurt out, waiting for his reaction. It took a while for your words to click, as Satoru beamed at the announcement.

"Really?! Aww love, you could've tell me though I would want to help you." He kissed your cheek, as you brought out two glasses for the occasion. "Sorry, I just thought that it would be more intimate if we do gender reveal just between us..." You sniffled, hormones kicking in.

The sight of his wife crying makes him feel sorry, as he brings you closer to his chest while you sobbed. "No baby, it's fine. I was just surprised is all. I agree that it would be better if it's just for the two of us." He comforted, as he wiped away your tears.

He offered a smile at you, your tears calming down. "Now let's do it yeah? I can't wait to find out." He pressed another kiss on your forehead, making you smile at him.

"Okay... Here, we should scoop the glass on the cake and whatever color we got is going to be the gender." You explained, handing him the glass as you countdown from 3.

Satoru decided to close his eyes, scooping the cake and opened his eyes, his brows slightly furrowed at the color. "Yellow?" He muttered, looking at you as your eyes started tearing up again.

"No, it was supposed to be either pink or blue." You mumbled, tearing up at the fact that you messed up. This is a very important moment, and somehow you managed to mess up the coloring. It was supposed to be pink.

Satoru frowned at your distress, calming you down by caressing your hair as he hugs you. "Hey, it's okay baby. There's nothing wrong with it." He whispered in your ear, consoling you through your dissappointment. "I tried my best." You cried, as Satoru only wiped the tears from your beautiful face.

"There there, I know you did baby." He softly cooed, letting you cry your heart out. "We could do it another way you know? Maybe you can feed me either blueberries or strawberry while I close my eye, do you want it?" He suggested, calming you down as you nodded at him.

"Okay..." You mumbled through puffy eyes, it was a shame that your hormone got the best of you today, out of any other day. "Alright baby, I'm closing my eyes. Blueberry is boy and strawberry is going to be girl okay?" He reassured as he starts to close his eyes while you nod.

You start picking a strawberry from on top of the cake, feeding him as you smiled, waiting for his reaction. He munched on them for a good few, as he finally opened his eyes and hug you.

"We're having a girl?!" He exclaimed, pulling you into his embrace as he beamed at you, a wide smile on his face. You happily nodded at him, as he peppered kisses all over you face at the confirmation.

"My love, thank you so much! I love you so much." He chuckled, happy at the reveal. He knew it. He knew he was going to be a girl dad.

"I love you too... I feed you two strawberries you know.. " You added, hinting at something as it finally clicked on him.

"Oh. My. God! We're having twins as well?" He exclaimed, which makes you giddy as you smiled widely at him, nodding at him.

"My wife, I'm the luckiest man ever." He dramatically declared as he give you another kiss, long enough to render you speechless.

The picnic ended full of affections. It is the start of your journey in building life together with him, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

author's note: sorry if I'm not actively uploading stuffs, I figured that I shouldn't force myself to write when I don't want to and instead make it like a hobby of mine. :) i don't want to burn myself out again (because that had happened b4)

© @qiwoomi

est. 300524

do not copy, translate or repost my work.

#jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x female reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #cw: pregnancy

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Guilty as Sin? — Chapter Seven

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, professor/student dynamic, oral (m!rec}, alcohol consumption, essentially just porn with plot, these two are in LOVE babes

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist

The restaurant Javi had picked out was attached to the lake resort, a casual steakhouse with balcony seating that overlooked the water. You watched the yellow lights from the resort dance across the soft ripples on the lake a story below in between glances at Javier. He’d chosen a simple navy blue sweater and dark jeans for tonight, a casual and absolutely fucking delicious sight that had you reaching for your wine to quell your thirst. Javier scanned the menu that he held in one hand while intertwining his fingers with yours across the table, the gesture doing little to settle the rapid beat of your heart. 

Beyond the sex—which was certainly the best you’d ever had in your life—there was so much to love about him. He was kind, generous, an active listener, intelligent, and funny when he wanted to be, all put together in a stunningly masculine package that had your thighs squeezing together every time his dark eyes found you staring. 

“What?” he asked, one corner of his mouth tilting up slightly. He brought your joined hands over to his lips, placing a gentle kiss over your knuckles before bringing it back to the table. 

“You’re just very nice to look at,” you said, biting your lip to try and contain your smile. Javier laid his menu down before moving chairs to come sit directly beside you. You leaned into him, resting your chin on his shoulder as you shared your menu with him. “What looks good?”

“You,” he murmured into your ear before giving your temple a sweet kiss. “I’ve been trying to read this damn menu for ten minutes now, but I keep getting distracted.”

“Wonder why.” You shrugged, lowering your hand to his thigh just to feel him tense. 

Javier leaned into your ear again, whispering, “Are you trying to make me lose my mind? Because it’s working.”

You grinned, completely lost in this blissful bubble the two of you had managed to create against all odds. “You know, I’m fine with ordering room service instead.”

Javier leaned back, raising his brow at you. “I was supposed to be giving you your first good date. What happened to that, you seductress?”

“Guess you have a point,” you said, giving him a soft smile as you carded your fingers through his hair.

“I usually do,” he quipped.

“On the other hand…” You smirked, reaching for his hand as it rested on his knee. Sliding his warm palm up your jean clad thigh—you were forced to change after Javi destroyed your tights—you locked eyes with him as you guided his hand between your thighs. “You should know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Javi let out a soft, lustful sigh at your warmth. He cursed as he leaned in, holding your face in his free hand. You hummed into the kiss, feeling grateful that no one else had chosen to sit out in the brisk early fall air tonight. No, it was just you and him, the stars on the water, and a whole mess of feelings. 

“Fuck, as much as I want to bend you over this table right now, we should probably stop before the waiter catches us,” he mumbled against your lips, sliding his hand away from your center and letting it rest above your knee with a gentle squeeze. He sat back in his chair, lifting the menu back into view while you eyed him with lust drunk eyes. “I can feel you undressing me with your eyes, cariño.”

“I could be undressing you with my hands,” you replied, turning away from him with a smitten grin. “But fine. I guess I’ll just have to pester you with more questions to distract myself.”

“I guess you will,” he said, fighting back a smile. 

“Alright,” you laughed, biting your lip as you watched him study the menu. “How many girlfriends have you had?”

Javier raised a brow at you. “Serious ones?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. 

“One,” he replied. “Through high school until the end of my undergrad degree.” 

“So you’ve been single all this time?” You eyed him suspiciously, giving him a playful side eye. 

“There something wrong with that?” he asked, leaning forward into your space, his gaze locked on your lips. “If I wasn’t single all this time then I never would’ve gotten to meet you.”

“What a line,” you laughed, earning a dimpled smile from Javi. “What happened between you and your ex?”

“She wanted more than what I could give at the time,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. “I was young and just getting started in the world. She wanted marriage and a family, which I did too, just…not at twenty-three. I tried to do it, though. Proposed and everything, but as the months ticked by, I just…couldn’t. So I called it off, left town, and started my career.”

“Do you ever regret it?” you asked, no judgment to be found in your tone, just genuine curiosity. Javier shook his head, giving your knee a squeeze. 

“No,” he said. “I meant it when I said if my life hadn’t played out this way, I wouldn’t be here. And here is somewhere I really fucking love being.”

You lifted your hand to his chin, pulling him in for another kiss. It seemed like you’d never get tired of this wanting you felt every time you so much as looked at him, let alone when he goes and says shit like that. 

“Alright, are we ready to order?” The waiter appeared out of nowhere, catching the two of you mid-makeout. You pulled away from Javi with a bashful smile, reaching for the menu and choosing the first entree that sounded good. Javier opted to have the same, only switching out your choice of mashed potatoes for a baked potato. 

The waiter left, taking the useless menus with him. “Interesting choice with the baked potato.”

“What?” he chuckled. “They’re the best way to have a potato.”

“Strongly disagree,” you gasped, clutching your non-existent pearls. “Fries are the best, mashed potatoes are second, and a baked potato might come in at like number five.” 

“So this is our first argument,” he laughed. “I’ll let you have this one.”

“And the next, and the one after that,” you added, leaning back into him like a moth drawn to a flame. 

“You can have them all as long as you keep looking at me like that,” he murmured, ghosting his lips over yours. You laughed, pecking his lips while wearing a lovesick smile. “So now that you got to ask—“

“Oh no,” you chuckled, settling back into your seat and bringing your drink up for a sip. 

“How many serious relationships have you had?” 

“One, really,” you said, scrunching your nose at the thought of Micah. “Serial cheater, sometimes called me mommy in bed, all around horrible.”

“Mommy?” Javier snorted as he took a sip of his beer. “Jesus. I’m starting to wonder whether it’s just your generation of men that suck this bad or if you just have really shitty luck.”

“You’re one of one, Javier Peña,” you said. “That’s why I’m hoping to keep you around.”

Javier smiled, taking a long sip from his beer. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“No?” you asked, grinning against the rim of your wine glass. “Not even if I told you I’ve been known to snore every now and again?”

“Now that changes things,” he said, eyeing you in mock consideration. “I think I’ll learn to live with it. Or I’ll just get some earplugs.”

“Anything I need to be warned about?”

“I smoke and I’m a terrible cook,” he replied. “Also a bit of an insomniac, but it’s not like I’ll be getting any sleep anyways with all your snoring.”

“A match made in heaven,” you mused. “Aside from the forced-to-keep-it-a-secret part.”

“Maybe not for much longer,” he said, nervously glancing at his lap. 

“What do you mean?” you chuckled. 

“I mean…I got a job offer from the DA’s office,” he replied, his eyes bouncing back and forth between yours as he watched you take in this incredibly exciting news. “And I know it’s early, and things aren’t, you know, official with us, but I was already considering quitting teaching before meeting you, and now…”

“And now?” you asked, your voice hardly louder than a whisper. Javier took in a deep, steadying breath and gave you a boyish smile that brought out a dimple. 

“And now all I want to do is find a way for us to be together without all this sneaking around and shit,” he shrugged. “I didn’t want to tell you to put any pressure on you or anything, but regardless of where you and I stand, I think I’m gonna take the offer.”

“When would you start?” you asked, tracing your fingertip along the rim of the glass as you tried to comprehend the fact that this man was willing to switch careers in order to be with you.

It had only taken him two months of knowing you to decide that you were worth that much, even if he didn’t know where the two of you stood. The thought alone was enough to have you ready to hand your heart over.

“After the semester ends,” he replied, his knee bouncing under the table as he continued to study your reaction. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking, so could you put me out of my misery and—“

“Javi, I…” You laughed, shaking your head at the miracle that was Javier Peña. “I’d do this thing in secret for a lifetime as long as it meant I got to do it with you, but the idea of getting to kiss you in public or even just hold your hand…it feels like a dream. So that’s what I’m thinking, that you are a really fucking good dream I don’t want to wake up from.”

Javier leaned in, giving you a kiss. “So I’ll take that to mean you want to do this thing for real?”

You laughed, nodding as you gave his lips another soft peck.

“All of it. Snoring and burnt dinners, included.”

You clung to Javi’s arm as you made your way out of the restaurant after dinner, tipsy on wine and Javier’s smile. He’d been whispering nothing but filth into your ear since he asked for the check, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear as you walked down the hall to your suite. 

“You’re talking a big game,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Maybe I have some plans of my own.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow as he slid the key card out of his pocket. “And what are these plans of yours?”

“Well, to start…I’d like to get you out of these clothes,” you said, biting your lip. 

“That’s doable,” he smirked, turning the handle of the door and swinging it open while keeping his eyes on yours. “Then what, hermosa?”

“Well,” you started, leading him into the room just to turn around and back him against the door as he let it click shut behind him. You slid your hands down his stomach to palm him through his jeans. “You’ve gotten to taste me a few times now, but I still haven’t gotten to taste you.”

Javier groaned, settling his hands on either side of your face as he kissed you. You moaned into it, your hands steady as they undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. Javier hissed, breaking the kiss to look down as you took him in your hand and gave him a teasing stroke. 

“Is that what you want, Javi?” you purred, using your free hand to guide his eyes back to yours. Javi looked at you like you held the world in your hands, his brows laced together and lips parted in reverence as you gave him another teasingly slow pump. “You want my lips around—“

Javier cut you off with a groan, settling his hands on your hips as he walked you backwards into the room with his lips devouring your own. You smiled into the kiss, fighting back a laugh as he tripped over your feet, almost sending the two of you onto the carpeted floor. 

“You’re so fucking…” His words trailed off as he let his hands travel up your curves before cupping the weight of your breasts in each. Your laughter faded into a soft gasp as he slid his hands back town to give your ass a squeeze, seemingly unable to decide on what he wanted to worship more. “You’re going to ruin me for all women.”

“Only fair seeing as you’ve ruined me for all men and myself, remember?” Javier laughed, kissing you once before stepping back to shed his clothes. You sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your elbows as you watched him undress. “You’re so nice to look at, Javi.”

He laughed, taking his length in hand and stroking it while you devoured the sight with lust-blown pupils. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Looks like you’re already blushing,” you quipped, leaning forward to take over for him, stroking your hand up and down his angry arousal. “Is this all for me, Javi?”

He nodded, licking his lips as he watched you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. He stroked his thumb over your cheek as you stared up at him with an innocent look in your eyes—or, as innocent as you could look while stroking his dick.  “Fuck. You’re so beautiful, baby.”

“Yeah?” You keened at the compliment, a love-starved woman being fed for the first time in years. “Do you think I’ll look as beautiful with my lips wrapped around your cock?”

Javier groaned, his cock twitching at the question. “How about you show me?”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his reddened tip, the barely there touch causing his stomach to clench. Dragging the tip of your flattened tongue from base to tip, you wrapped your lips around him just far enough to tease before releasing him with a pop. “On the bed.”

Javier raised an eyebrow at you but obeyed, positioning himself on his back in the middle of the giant mattress. “You like being the one in control, hermosa?”

You climbed onto the bed, sitting between his thighs and wrapping your fist around his base. “Sometimes.”

“Then go ahead,” he urged with a smile. “Take control, baby. It’s all yours.”

You smirked, shuffling down to lay on your stomach as you twisted your hand up and down his throbbing cock just to hear him let out a soft hiss. Bringing your lips to his balls, you gave them a suck, your thumb swiping over the precum that leaked from his tip. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, letting his head fall back against the pillow. 

You released his balls with a pop, dragging your tongue up his shaft before taking him in deep until you were kissing your closed fist. You worked in tandem with your strokes, flattening your tongue along the underside of his cock as you bobbed up your head and down. Your spit-slick hand followed your lips with a firm squeeze that had his thighs twitching every time you reached his sensitive head. 

“Shit, cariño,” he hissed, one hand cupping your jaw as he sat up on one elbow to watch you. You stared into those brown eyes that reminded you of warm molasses, relishing in every grunt and groan you pulled from his perfectly bowed lips. 

You could’ve been there for a minute or an hour, a moment or a lifetime, but this thing between the two of you seemed to defy the laws of space and time. You weren’t hiding out in a hotel room counting the minutes until you’d have to return to secrecy. No, you were simply a woman worshiping the man who’d revived your faith in goodness, in love. 

“Baby,” he moaned, brows furrowed and eyes fluttering with every sinful gluck as you swallowed him down your throat. “Baby, shit. H-hold on. I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.“

“I want you to,” you said, your voice hoarse and desperate.

Javier shuddered, nodding his head as he watched you take him back into your mouth, his hands now gripping the sheets as you increased your efforts. “Fuck. Fuck, I’m…fuck.”

You hummed, running your free hand over the expanse of his stomach as you held him in deep, letting him come down your throat. He tasted slightly salty, slightly sweet, and surprisingly addictive. You’d never particularly enjoyed the taste of someone else, but be it love or lust or sheer infatuation, you really fucking enjoyed Javi’s. 

“Baby, fuck,” he rasped, running his hand over your hair as you cleaned his sensitive cock with your tongue, making a show of it. “Come up here so I can kiss those fucking lips.”

“But…I just—“

“Do I look like I give a fuck about that?” he asked, a rhetorical question given the raise of his eyebrow as he stared you down. “Come here, hermosa.”

You crawled up his body, leaving kisses up his stomach, chest, and neck before hesitantly ghosting your lips over his. “You’re sure it’s not gross?”

“Do you think it’s gross to kiss me after I eat your pussy?” he asked, placing a feather light kiss against your lips. 

“No, I think it’s hot,” you replied, your voice a husky whisper. 

“Mmhm,” he hummed, lifting his hand to rest on the curve of your jaw. “Dame un beso.” 

You smiled, letting out a soft laugh as you leaned in to kiss him exactly how he wanted it. Deep, slow, and so fucking sexy you couldn’t help but grind your panty-covered core against his softened length. 

“You’re too clothed,” he murmured against your lips, his hands sliding down to your ass to palm you through your jeans. 

“Mm,” you hummed, kissing your way down his neck. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?” he asked, reaching between your thighs to put some pressure on your clit as you rocked against his hand. 

“Leaving my mark,” you moaned, sucking on the soft skin where his shoulder met his neck. Low enough to hide beneath a collar during class, but high enough to give you glimpses of it when you got him alone. 

Javier hissed, rolling you onto your back. You laughed, combing your fingers through his hair as he unbuttoned your jeans and peeled them off your legs. He stared at the wet spot on your panties, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Now I get to leave a few marks.”

“But I need to shower,” you said, coaxing his eyes back to yours. 

“Am I invited?” he asked, hiking up the hem of your sweater to place soft kisses across your stomach. Something about him worshiping the part that brought you the most insecurity was so healing, especially after a relationship full of cruel criticism of your body. 

“You’re always invited,” you replied, trying to calm the pounding in your chest. 

“Alright,” he said, sitting back onto his knees. “I can leave my mark in the shower and then come back and do it again in this bed. And then in my bed, in your bed, in any fucking room I can get you alone in.”

“I’ll be covered in hickeys, then,” you laughed. 

“I’ll only leave them where you and I can see,” he promised. “And only when you want me to.”

“You’re a dream,” you mused, pulling him back down for another kiss that would haunt your memories long after you died. 

“How are we gonna do this once we go back tomorrow?” you asked, tracing your initials across his bare chest as you laid in the darkness with him. He’s just devoted an hour to getting you to climax after climax, the shower you took earlier only acting as a prelude to what he had planned for the bed. “Once I’m back to being your student, I mean.”

“We’ll have to be discreet,” he said, shifting to lay on his side, his elbow propping up his head. “But besides that…it’s just a normal relationship.”

“Except people in normal relationships can go out and not worry about being seen together,” you countered with a half-smile. 

It wasn’t that you cared about going out or anything like that, but there was a gnawing insecurity that perhaps over time Javi would grow tired of the sneaking around and look for someone who he could have a normal life with, one that didn’t involve this much careful planning. 

“It’s only for a few more months,” he assured, stroking his hand up and down your side. “Until then, we’ll just have to find ways to entertain ourselves while we hole up together. I already have a few ideas.”

“I bet I can guess exactly what kind of ideas are floating around up there,” you said, lightly tapping your finger against his temple. Javier moved to nip at your finger, earning a laugh. 

“I was actually talking about showing you my Lego collection,” he returned with a smirk. “I just got the Death Star. Kind of a big deal.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” You giggled as he nodded. 

“Dead serious,” he replied with a laugh. “It’s a good way to busy the mind, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.”

“Does your mind need busying?” His smile faded into something more somber. 

“Sometimes,” he confessed. “I saw a lot of stuff with the DEA, and sometimes the memories come back with a vengeance. Instead of chainsmoking and whoring around like I used to do, I choose to block out those memories with building the fucking Death Star. Healthy, right?

You gave him an empathetic smile, relating to the sadness in his eyes that he tried to cover up with humor. You, too, had a lot of memories to avoid touching, although they likely didn’t hold a candle to the shit he must’ve dealt with. Nevertheless, like calls to like. “I think it’s very healthy, actually. So healthy, in fact, that you’ve convinced me to join you. So it’s too late to take back your invitation, basically.”

Javier laughed, a bit of light fighting back against the darkness in his eyes as he leaned in to give you a chaste kiss. 

“I…” He stopped himself, shaking his head as he stared into your eyes. “Nevermind.”

“What?” you laughed. 

“I just…I almost said something I have no business saying,” he shrugged. “The kind of thing that’s supposed to take longer than this to feel, so I’ll wait, but…I feel it.” 

You knew the feeling well, the four letter word dancing on the tip of your tongue all night. But it was too soon for that, too soon for confessions as heavy as the one that weighed on your heart. You were falling in love with him, quickly and helplessly and without thinking of what it would feel like when you finally hit the ground. 

“Me too,” you said instead.

For now, it would have to be enough.

#guilty as sin? #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier peña smut #javier pena smut #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javi peña #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier peña fluff #javier pena x you

[jk97]

Unprofessional Attraction | THREE

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

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s perfect. Keep going.” 

“Don’t push it, please.”

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

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

Your snide remark about his secrecy started as a joke. 

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

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

I’m sorry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you going to attend my ceremony?” 

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

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

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

“No, I… really need you there.”

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

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

“Career-wise or celebration-wise?”

“Whichever… or both.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are we doing here again?”

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

While you cook yourself dinner–

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

While working on your final paper–

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

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

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

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

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

“I'm being punked, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

Wooyoung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Navigating this situation all by yourself is draining. 

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

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

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

“I’m being blackmailed by Wooyoung.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s not my girlfriend.

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

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

The answer is that he doesn’t. 

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

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

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

Yunho can admit he’s a bit toxic sometimes. 

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

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

“That was fast,” you marvel. 

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

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

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

“If you’re cooking, always.”

Tonight, Yunho takes things slow. 

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

“I’m already touching you, baby.”

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

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

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

“Yu, wait–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Getting close?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you gonna stay? Please?”

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

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

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

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

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

[Wooyoung: Don’t forget lunch tomorrow]

[Wooyoung: Usual place]

...

[Wooyoung: Good morning]

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

His eyes constrict to slits almost instantaneously. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which would be?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you, Yu?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You, you, you, you, you!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you stay with me tonight?”

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

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

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

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

“I can’t do this anymore, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why did you kiss him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You…love–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Around eleven, I think.”

“I thought you had something to do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You yawn after muttering, “No, why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bathroom breaks are important for everybody.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t say I’m being delusional.”

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

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

“You asked him about her directly?”

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not that implausible—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do indeed, how did you know?”

I’ve got to be losing my mind… 

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

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

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

“I– What are you doing here?”

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

“Wait, I have a date with Wooyoung–” 

“I do not care,” he snaps back.

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

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

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

What a silly question, truly. 

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

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

“I’m not jealous, I’m annoyed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yunho’s a mess. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Inside,” you whimper, “Please.”

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

“Don’t care, please, please.”

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

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

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

“I’m an idiot,” he groans.

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

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

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

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

“A man can’t change his mind?”

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

“Do I look okay?”

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

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

“____?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s got you so happy today?”

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

“It’s all over, Yunho.”

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

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

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

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

Oh, that’s right…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[moonstruckme]

if your not taking requests feel free to ignore me

could u do camp counselor james! where he and reader reunite next summer at the start of a new camp session?

I am lovely, don't worry! Thank you for requesting :)

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 884 words

It’s early May, and the sun is still pleasant. After last year, you know to relish the first few cool nights in the cabin, before the summer heat sets in and you become dependent on tiny handheld fans and those popsicles from the canteen. For now you’re enjoying it, the wooden boards of the dock warm under your thighs and your head tilted up to the sun as your toes kiss the cool water. 

The air smells like pine and fresh water. In a few days, all you’ll be able to hear are kids screaming exuberantly, splashing around in the water and small feet pounding on the dirt, but now it’s just the sloshing of the waves against the shore, the steady thunk of the canoe someone’s already gotten out hitting the dock. It’s peaceful. Meditative. And maybe it’s because you’re so focussed on that that you don’t hear James’ car pull into the gravel parking lot, or his friends bickering about who has to carry what inside, or really much of anything until there’s a set of footsteps approaching from behind you, and you turn around. 

“James!” You’re every inch the girlfriend in a movie, embarrassingly so, but you’re too excited to second-guess yourself as you get your feet under you and run to meet him. 

“Hey,” James laughs, stopping a second before you do to brace for impact. He grabs you under your legs and hoists them up around his waist, grinning hugely as he pecks you on the lips. “Hey, careful, no bare feet on the grass, remember?” 

You roll your eyes. You’re not supposed to let the kids run around without their shoes in case there’s some broken glass or something, but there never is. “You just wanted to pick me up,” you say. 

James’ smile widens. “Yeah, you got me.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck as he crushes you to his front, both of you gripping the other like you’re expecting to be torn apart. He can’t have been here more than half an hour, but James already smells like camp, sunscreen and something woodsy mingling with the smell of his shampoo. 

“I missed you,” you admit, turning your lips into the side of his head. 

James hugs you impossibly tighter. “I’m so glad you get it, angel. I was telling Sirius about how much I missed you on the way here, and he was being very unsympathetic about it. Deeply coldhearted, really—” 

“Fuck off,” says Sirius, and you look over James’ shoulder to see him and Remus approaching. “You saw each other last weekend!” 

“God, don’t remind me!” James lets you go just enough to smush his lips to yours. “Far too long. Cruel, unusual treatment.” 

Sirius humphs. “And yet you were apart from us for three months last summer, and I didn’t hear nearly so much of bereavement.” 

You smile and pat your boyfriend’s shoulder, a silent request for him to put you down. 

“Trust me,” you say, going over to hug Sirius, “the rest of us did. He was waxing poetic about you all summer. I think the kids were a bit worried.” 

“Yes, well.” Sirius cracks, grinning as he kisses you on the cheek. “As he should.” 

“Hi, lovely.” Remus looks thoroughly worn out from the long drive—or more likely, from his friends’ bickering the whole way—but he scrubs a fond hand up and down your back as you squeeze him around the middle. 

“I can’t believe you guys are here,” you say, beaming as you peel away from him. James immediately pulls you back against his front, his arms twined loosely around your waist. 

“We couldn’t very well leave him to wax poetic all summer again.” Remus smiles, and Sirius nods fervently. 

“You should have seen him, babe,” he says. “He was having a proper crisis over it. Now I’ve got to spend my whole summer doing charity work just to keep him from being torn apart.” 

“They do pay us,” James reminds him. 

Sirius waves him off. “For those wages? It’s charity work.” 

You lean your head back on James’ shoulder, sinking into his hold. You do have some inkling of the crisis Sirius is talking about; when your boss at camp had called him a couple of months ago and he’d been faced with either not seeing you for the three months you’d be here or going with you and not seeing his friends like he did last year, he’d put her off for weeks before deciding. In the end, Remus hadn’t been difficult at all to convince. He’s always wanted to work with kids, but James had to pitch the idea of being an art instructor to Sirius relentlessly before he’d finally agreed. 

You loved getting to know James last summer, and getting to see him in his element when you went to visit him on weekends throughout the year, but you suspect that now, with all his favorite people in one place for the entire summer, you’ll get to witness the happiest version of him you’ve seen yet. 

“The kids don’t get here until Thursday,” you say. “Want to see if we can have a bonfire tonight?” 

James chuckles. He leans over your shoulder to kiss your cheek, his smile unmissable against your skin. “Those are always fun.” 

#camp counselor!james potter #james potter au #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader

[atlabeth]

🧸 - i hope this piques your interest LOL but i'm deep in a benedict bridgerton mood waiting for s3 to air

could you do a fluffy slow burn blurb for him where reader completely takes him by surprise? up to your interpretation men are just always sexier when caught off guard and proven wrong 😁☝🏼

happy 3k again my love!!

twin flames

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: you and benedict bond at an art exhibition. he only seems to be oblivious when it can embarrass him most.

a/n: thank you so much for the request!! it was literally the first one and it's taken me almost a month. lol. im so sorry. but i hope you enjoy!!!

wc: 1.1k

warning(s): all fluff

“This is beautiful,” Benedict murmured, and he glanced at the man beside him. “Is this not one of the best pieces you’ve seen?” 

“I suppose it’s alright,” the man shrugged. 

“Just alright?” He frowned. “Are you feeling well, sir?” 

The man frowned as well as he moved onto the next painting, fully ignoring Benedict. He just shook his head and focused back on the painting, thinking aloud. 

“The use of color is just—” he shook his head again. “It’s incredible. The way the brushstrokes are used for depth and the unique way of shading… It all melds together so well, and yet I never would have thought to use any of it in that way.” 

“Is that true?” 

Benedict’s eyes flickered down to see you by his side, a pretty woman in a rather unassuming dress. He’d never seen you before at one of these exhibits, so you must have been new. He would have remembered a face such as yours. 

“Certainly,” he said, nodding with exuberance. “Art is meant to make you imagine, feel— when I look at this piece, I feel some sort of amazement. It captures the beauty of a starry night impeccably, but the technique gives it a completely fresh feel. It is as if I am looking up at the horizon on my own for the very first time again, amazed by the vastness of the world.” 

You smiled. “That is very kind of you to say, sir. You’ve quite an eye, sir—and certainly a way with words.” 

Benedict shrugged. “It is very simple with a piece such as this. I could wax poetic all day, Miss…” He trailed off, and his gaze fell back to you. “I apologize, my lady. You have me at a disadvantage.” 

That coy smile remained on your lips. “Miss Tilbury. And you are Benedict Bridgerton, yes?” 

He nodded, and he couldn’t help the slightly nervous laugh that came along with being in your presence. “I am embarrassed. You knew my name, but I didn’t know yours. You must forgive me.” 

“Oh, it is of no matter,” you said, brushing your hand through the air. “You already know more about me than most.” 

His eyebrows rose, and when his mouth opened, he found himself at a loss for words. It took a moment to compose himself—it was awfully difficult to think with those pretty eyes focusing so intently on him. 

“Pardon me for asking, but are you new to these exhibits?” 

Your eyebrows rose. “What makes you think that?” 

“I’ve not yet seen you around here,” he said. “And I am sure I would remember a face such as yours.”

“No,” you said, and your smile widened. “No, I frequent these sorts of exhibits. I’ve seen you before—I just must not have caught your eye.” 

“Oh, I think that impossible,” Benedict insisted. “Not only are you quite beautiful, my lady, you’ve also a sharp mind and a quick wit. Those are three things I can never ignore.” 

At that, you fully grinned, and he felt a smile of his own form. He’d only just met you and yet he felt this innate need to bring you joy. Perhaps it was a good thing you’d only just now met, for he could easily imagine thoughts of you consuming his every waking hour. 

“And you are quite the charmer, Mister Bridgerton,” you said. “Are you always this forward with women you just met?” 

“Only ones such as yourself,” he assured. “It is a delight to be able to discuss art with a twin flame.” 

“A twin flame?” 

“Someone who sees things the way I do,” Benedict said. “I tried to have a conversation about this piece with a man just before you, but he did not seem to understand it the way I did. You are refreshing, Miss Tilbury.” 

“Ah,” you said, and you nodded sagely. “Well, I may have just a bit more insight into this piece than that man did. I am the one who painted it, after all.” 

Benedict blinked. The words didn’t fully register in his mind. “What?” 

“I am the artist of this piece,” you said, gesturing at the painting they stood in front of. “I’m certainly flattered to know you enjoy it.” 

Benedict blinked again, and he felt heat spread across his whole face. He could not find any words in him for a strikingly long moment. 

“You can see my signature in the bottom right corner,” you continued. “My initials, of course. I paint under a pseudonym, for though those who run these exhibitions are more progressive than most, it can still be difficult as a woman to get our art displayed.” 

“I— I apologize, my lady,” Benedict finally managed to stammer. 

You tilted your head to the side as you looked back at him. “For what?” 

“For not knowing your name,” he rushed, “and insinuating that you were a newcomer, and acting as if I know more about your own art than you do.” 

You laughed, and Benedict once again found himself smiling at it. It felt like fresh snowfall—you were indeed refreshing. 

“You need not apologize, Mister Bridgerton,” you assured. “I do not lie—it is indeed flattering to know you see my art in such a light. I have seen some of your own pieces, and you are talented.” 

“I do not always feel it,” he mumbled. “More often than not, I can only see the flaws in my work. You have a rare quality indeed, my lady—you are able to compliment yourself.” 

“I do not believe in the need for self-deprecation in the artistic world,” you mused. “I am proud of this piece, so why would I not compliment it? I already have enough men trying to scorn me each day—I see no reason to contribute to the fire with my own words.”  

“And there is no reason for you to!” Benedict exclaimed. “Miss Tilbury, you’ve a way with a brush that very few do—at least with what I’ve seen. I— I consider it an honor to even be standing in your presence, if I am honest. Have you any other works I can see?” 

You smiled. “I do, but none of them are available in a manner such as this. I hope to display more soon.” 

“As do I,” Benedict said, nodding rapidly. “Mayfair should consider itself lucky to be graced by such fine artistry.” 

“And I consider myself lucky to get compliments from a man such as yourself.” Your smile turned slightly coy. “I could offer you some tips, of course. Since you were such a fan of my artwork.” 

Benedict could only stare at you for a moment. He did not know whether your words held more or not, but he realized he was alright with either—or both, if he found himself lucky enough. 

“I would love to, Miss Tilbury.” 

“I see no need for formalities.” You said your first name, your eyes sparkling. “We are twin flames, after all. Yes?” 

Benedict’s throat bobbed, but he could not help his grin. “Yes.” 

#realized it has been TOO Olong since ive written so i finished this real quick before work lol enjoy #sadie's 3k celebration #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fluff #sadie writes

[huexuri]

!! keep talking ⋆ — k.th

NSFW, MDNI!!!

summary: taehyun likes ur voice like a bit too much

warnings: fem!reader, switch!reader, switch!tyun, lots of dirty talk, pillow humping, masturbating, video call mutual masturbating

wc: 1.9k

taehyun misses your voice. a lot.

the both of you used to live in the same apartment to accommodate transportation to your designated campuses. until, taehyun had found a more convenient place to stay for a while before he would come back to live with you.

it was supposed to be just a few months, but those few months felt like years to taehyun. he missed the way you would come home and talk to him about things that happened that day, ramble to him about useless things. he never really paid attention to your silly stories; he only ever really enjoyed listening to the tone of your voice, the way the words roll off your tongue like butter. it's like music to his ears, the way your voice sounds like silk to him. he'd listen to you ramble on forever if he could.

especially when you sing your favorite songs over and over again, bustling around in the kitchen for any snacks, taehyun always thought of you as a smart girl with a pretty face and the voice of an angel.

he never expected he'd miss your voice so much.

so much so, he'd simply grow hard listening to your voicemails — feeling as if he's deprived of your voice, he's replaying them over and over again, wishing it was whatever you said whispered in his ear, even better if that voice of yours is put to use, moaning in his ear and calling out his name as you grind down on him; making sure all that rings in his puny head for the rest of his life are your moans.

my god, your voice. it's dizzying to him, hypnotizing even. he doesn't know what it is in your voice that he loves so much. like some type of drug. he loves everything about you as his best friend — but your voice,, it's everything to him.

so, imagine the guilt that washes over him when you ask if you could video call with him and play games. he's going to hear your voice for the first time in forever. shouldn't he be ecstatic?

no, because he knows he's going to fucking bust the moment you start to speak.

“taehyun? why isn't your camera on?” you spoke through the phone, half your face in frame.

“no, nothing. if i turn on my camera it'll be very laggy.” taehyun chuckled, a tinge of fluster behind his words.

“okay then! you should join me now, i'm already in game. i sent you the code earlier.” you said before putting your phone down so your camera faces the ceiling.

“o-okay.”

you guys played for a few rounds before talking again, and taehyun doesn't know how he survived listening to you yap for the entire time the both of you were playing. not in a bad way, but in a way where he's surprised and relieved he didn't make a mess of his shorts.

"anyways, finals are killing me. i feel like i've been living in the library," you complained like you usually would.

"ugh, tell me about it!” taehyun scoffed as he waited for you to continue the conversation.

"organic chem is so hard. it's like a bunch of nonsense i'm looking at.” you continued.

"at least you're not doing what i'm doing. it's like a different language. i keep questioning my life choices every time i open the textbook," taehyun said, his voice slightly shaky, but you thought nothing of it.

you nod at the camera. “uh huh, i get you. these days i think i've been okay though? i hung out with sumin and yeeun at karaoke recently. you know, we sang till our throats were hoarse. and also—”

your words go in one of taehyun's ears and come out the other. no, to him that's not important, not as important as the sound of you talking. all he can think of is how he's filled with guilt as he slips a fist beneath his boxers, grabbing onto his already leaking erection and jerking off… to your voice.

i'm really sorry, the thought rings in his head over and over again as his cock springs out of his boxers the more he pulls his waistband down to his thighs, leaning back against his gaming chair.

the tip of his cock glossy and starting to become a pinkish hue, he pleasures himself, free hand clutching his headphones to listen to your voice clearer, increasing the volume of the call.

he bites his lips as he closes his eyes as he starts to near his high.

“—she literally bumped into me and didn't say anything! she looked at me up and down with a dirty look, like i swear i would've—” you go silent. “taehyun?” you suddenly ask.

taehyun jolts from his seat, letting go of his cock as he readjusts his position.

“y-yeah? what?” he responds, throat dry as his adam's apple bobs up and down.

“are you even listening?” you frown at him through the camera.

“yeah,, uh, of course i am.” taehyun clears his throat.

you sigh. “okay, because you're awfully quiet. anyways, so she hit me—”

fuck, that was close. he thinks. his hand slowly picks up it's pace and he's stroking his cock again, back arching against the backrest of the chair as he throws his head back, mouth slightly agape and huffing.

“i don't even know what's her problem! right, tae??” you ask for his approval.

“r-right, ss—aah, keep talking, ‘m so close,” he whispers, his voice cracking. he doesn't register why you went quiet for an awkward 10 seconds before it finally clicks and he clasps a hand over his mouth.

“taehyun.. are you touching yourself ...?” you realize why his camera is off and why he seemed like he wasn't listening. then, silence. “taehyu—”

“i'm so sorry, y/n!!” taehyun blurts out desperately, with nothing else to say, he goes quiet again. guilt travels all over his body in the form of goosebumps as he thinks of what kind of stupid pervert he is, when all you wanted to do with him was chat.

“fuck, dude. if you just wanted to jerk off to my voice you should've told me.”

“huh? wait what?” taehyun's eyes soften.

“it’s kinda hot.” you mumbled as you shifted your camera down to your chest, touching it and rubbing the plushness. “come on, turn on your camera. don't be shy.” you said in a more demanding tone, testing the waters on what he liked the most.

“fuck, y/n, don't do this to me. your voice is…” taehyun sighed as he turned on his camera, showing his fucked out face, hazy eyes and swollen pink lips, glossy with drool all over them.

“you have a thing for my voice?” you asked as you smiled, positioning your camera slightly far away from your chair so he could see you fully.

“i've loved your voice since the beginning of time, i just… i-i don't know. ever since i moved out i realized i collapsed at the sound of your voice just so much more easily..” taehyun also adjusts his camera perfectly so that the frame cuts at his lower abdomen. you can see his shirt ride up above his pecs and his abs slightly moist with sweat.

“tell me what you want me to say then, this is your chance.” you fondle with your clothed breasts in front of the camera, nipples perking up and visible on the cloth, and taehyun slightly flinches at the sight.

“sssshit, i can't focus when you look and sound like that, stop doing that.” taehyun trembles under his breath as he fists his cock again. you can see his hand moving but you can't see his cock out. for some reason, the excitement turned you on way more.

“it's okay, take your time.” you said gently as your hands traveled under your shirt.

“fuck, need you to moan so badly. just whatever, fucking need you to use that voice of yours. please.” taehyun begged, his voice raspy and out of it.

“really?” you grabbed a pillow nearby and placed it beneath you. wearing nothing but a pair of dolphin shorts, you held on to the chair as you rocked your hips back and forth, arching your back to find the angle, starting slow and throwing your head back.

“p-please watch me, tae. i'd grind on your cock like this if you were—aah, mmfh~” you found your pace, looking at your phone screen with dazed eyes. you see taehyun running his fingers through his disheveled hair, holding on to the headphones as he bites his lips and fists his cock at unimaginable speeds.

“talk,” he breathily orders as his hips jitter in his hands.

“show me you're jerking off first,” you said, and taehyun sits slightly further away from the camera, showing an angle of him fisting himself.

“yeah, stroking that cock because my voice turns you on that bad, huh?” you chuckle as you increase your pace, your cunt rubbing onto the surface of the silk pillowcase. “f-fuuuck, tyunnie. a-aah—feels so goddamn good, just wish you were here so badly—!”

“yeah? i'll fuck your ability to walk out of you if i were there right now, holy shit.” taehyun pants and groans as he spits onto his cockhead. “does it feel good? does my cock rubbing against your cunt feel good?” taehyun fists his shaft to simulate the pillow you're humping.

“yeah, oh fuck, fuckfuck—” your mouth is wide open and your head is thrown back as you ride the pillow at incomprehensible speeds, your pussy throbbing and pulsing against the fabric as your slick begins to stain the cover. “you'd feel even better inside me, mmh~”

“keep talking like that and i'll actually go insane, spewing nothing but filth out of that pretty mouth of yours.” taehyun's hips thrust upwards into his fist as he watches you reach your high.

“isn't that what you wanted, taehyun? got off of my voice because you wanted me to moan and whimper in your ear?” you continued to hump the pillow as you felt yourself go dizzy. “gonna cum, a-aah–!”

“you're gonna make me— holy shit,” taehyun's moans became irregular and gradually louder. eventually after you came back from seeing stars, you could see his load splattered all over his fist and abs.

you stared at the screen blankly, mind barely able to function as the both of you pant heavily.

“i'm coming back tomorrow, i don't care.” taehyun remarks as he puts his pants back on and wipes the stripes of cum off of his abdomen.

“isn't it inconvenie—”

“i don't care about conveniency as long as i get to fuck you immediately after i see you again.” taehyun firmly said with a shit-eating grin plastered all over his fucked out face.

“promise?” you said, smiling at the camera.

“promise.”

later that night, you're shocked to see taehyun standing at your door with a bunch of huge ass bags and a pair of his favorite sneakers.

“you're still holding on to what you said?” you asked him as you let him in with a giggle. “come, i'll help you put these things down first.”

“i don't make promises i can't keep, love. i missed that voice of yours so fucking much, you have no idea… over the phone was clearly not enough.”

you cleared your throat. “i think i do have an idea, after what happened this afternoon..”

#taehyun x reader smut #taehyun scenarios #taehyun x reader #taehyun smut #taehyun #kang taehyun #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #txt smut #xuri writes

[miru667]

The whole Once-ler family is working full tilt!

Here's my full piece for the VK Onceler Zine! I was very lucky to get to be a part of it...🥹 I used concept art as my inspiration this time: [link] Keep reading below for my process vid and all my director's commentary!

Thank you for being curious! Here's a video of my WIPs:

Deadlines were TIGHT for this zine! We were given only 2 months (compared to the 6 months I had on the previous onceler zine), so to make sure I could finish on time, I decided to do only base colours and lighting, with almost no shading anywhere. Still, trying to balance all the colours took the longest for me, as you can see in the vid. xP

Also idk if anyone noticed, but for the face I chose to use an already existing onceler doodle: [link] Why? Well, why not! I really liked that doodle and I didn't want it to go to waste. 😆

Things that I enjoyed sneaking in:

-the golden spiral! Vaguely, at least! At the very least I hope your eyes can follow the order of thneed production, from the fallen tree at the window to the tuft harvesting to the thread spinning, to knitting the thneed and then drawing up plans for bigger and better things, and then ending with him pulling on his iconic glove to show he's going to take control now

-15 cents, a nail, and a great great great grandfather snail, as well as a tin pail since that's where you're supposed to deposit your payment

-combining things from the 2012 movie and concept art, the 1972 movie, and the 1971 book (e.g. that funny wrench he uses to fix pipes)

-Miss O'Schmunce-ler! You can see from the vid that I added the bracelet pretty late, because it was a late decision to have a Miss O'Schumunce-ler somewhere. I chose her to be the one picking up the pencil in the end, since she's pretty good with a pencil in the movie hehe

-a thneed, a seed, and a (grickle grass) weed on the floor. The thneed is just the first of many that will soon create a giant pile. The seed lies forgotten in the corner. The weed is foreshadowing the future.

-hinting that Lorax and Once-ler were actually good friends, like they were in the Lorax musical stageplay. 🥺 I kept this part of the script in my mind for this piece:

This was aftermath Once-ler talking to the Lorax, reminiscing on their good times...and also being stupid and inconsiderate because the Lorax was in fact there all along as his friend, trying to warn him of what was going to happen. 😔

So in my zine piece we're witnessing a peaceful time before all the real biggering really starts. I like to think that in this scene, the Lorax had been sitting on the Once-ler's lap, holding his gloves for him and having a nice chat together with maybe some harmless bickering, but then the Once-ler gets a phone call so he cuts their convo short and rolls his chair over to the window to answer it. Putting business over friendship as usual, of course. Inspo for the lap sitting comes from this fanart by Emi that I love: [link]

What else...the parts that I'm proud of the most are the stool (I spent 2 days just drawing this stool), the curtains, and the Once-ler's pose. I was close to giving up on that pose because I had no idea how to draw it but I'm glad that I tried again. I wanted to show him at ease during a stage in his life that we never got to see much: the happier and more innocent days of his biggering when he only had a small shop. 😊

That's all, I think! Thanks for reading if you did! Once again it was an honour to be part of this zine!!

#onceler zine #miru art #onceler #the lorax #lorax #thneed #artists on tumblr #truffula #truffula tree #truffula trees

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: I'm Starting To Think That This Drow Guy Is Kind Of An Asshole Edition.

Probably a Ranger in the hunter subclass. I actually intended to multi-class him as fighter/ranger at some point and make that his official class, but I haven't had time/quite figured out the best build that would still suit him - Ranger makes a LOT of sense with his backstory, arguably more than fighter, but he's still supposed to be a magic-less brick-house with 19 strength who hasn't handled a bow and arrow in 10 years, so I'm not sure where that leaves us LOL

A lot of people have suggested that Berserk Barbarian would fit him well, but I think that implies a lot of other characteristics that do NOT suit him at all so 🤷

HE DIDN'T EVEN GO TO THE CRECHE, and honestly it made the game feel much more immersive to pick one path and stick to it like Halsin suggested, even if I did have to endure the shadow cursed lands without the shiny mace 😂

Probably for the best, it'd be a real shame if the story ended there just because he didn't like Vlaakith's attitude.

But yeah Lae'zel (who, for the record, I adore) never stood a chance in his playthrough. Sorry baby girl.

I'm either uninformed or we have different definitions of what constitutes a crush, but sure I'll play in this space LOL

He's both jealous but also kind of aloof when it comes to things like that. It's yet another symptom of his arrogance, where it seems unfathomable that anyone who has him would be genuinely tempted by someone else. He doesn't mind a normal amount of glance-stealing and flattery, even playful flirting to a degree, but if there's persistence or if his partner seems to seek another person out for things he thinks he should be providing, he feels threatened.

Also, he has a difficult time discerning that "deep emotional connection" does not equal "romantic interest". So, at least immediately after the events of the game, he's more likely to be made insecure by his partners forming deep bonds with others than any throwaway expression of physical desire or fleeting infatuation.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Let me preface this with the (hopefully unnecessary) disclaimer that this murderous dark-elf's opinions are not my own, and that I very much purposefully made a bit of an asshole character because I find that entertaining.

And now that you're hopefully primed for what's coming - DU drow is pretty damn judgemental of people's looks save for the rare times when they give him a good impression right off the bat. He notes people's appearances and makes preemptive assumptions about them without even realizing it. He definitely does not equal beauty to value or prowess (in fact he will very much still mock of you if you seem too concerned with your appearance) but he does prescribe things based on looks.

I don't think he'd take issue with what you're describing, It sounds like a pretty average body, but he would assume that person is weaker and less fit to "keep up with him", basically. Which kind of diminishes interest.

As far as to what he finds immediately attractive, he definitely prefers people who seem physically fit (not more than himself though - gods forbid). But, the caveat to this whole tangent is that once you get past initial impressions, he could definitely come to be sexually attracted to pretty much any type of body attached to the person he's in love with.

Thank you! There was no main event, just the building up of resentment over time and the opportunity she saw opening up when the Chosen's plan came into motion. She definitely didn't always hate him though, they had a fairly close relationship until his obsessive behavior and arrogance became an issue.

Thank you!!!

They call him the/that drow, dark elf, or "big drow" if there's more than one present. In private they might facetiously call him Bhaalspawn if they get tired of referring to him by race.

I'll be honest, I forgot whether or not I found it in his playthrough LOL but if he did stumble across that would be VERY funny. He'd be like "look at these idiots and their fake murder god. What kind of dimwit would worship carnage as a religion. Hey Shadowheart get a load of this-"

HAPPY YOU ENJOY HIM! I think his unique situation overall with having been such a overwhelmingly horrid person and forgetting all about it is my favorite bit. That's kind of vague, I know, but I often think of dreams I've had where I committed a crime or did something horrible, and that immediate feeling of relief and disconnect that follows immediately after waking up. That's kind of what I imagine it's like for him - he knows of the things he did, but he doesn't really. In theory it's all true but that's a truth far too fantastical for anyone to conceptualize even if it's put right in front of your face.

That, tackling the guilt (or lack thereof) of something you genuinely don't feel like you've done and the intricacies of it, that's a fascinating state of mind to explore. I love how many directions you can take that.

For me, having a character who is not good, but is not necessarily pure unadulterated evil, makes for a lot of complex thought experiments and contradictory values. DU drow has a lot of those - things he believes and abides by absolutely except for this specific instance, being contradictory is a pillar of his character and it can be a little challenging to keep up with it - but I'd be lying if I said I don't deeply enjoy that aspect as well all the same.

THANK YOUUUU It took me so long to figure out how to draw Astarion in a way I liked, I'm so relieved that others enjoy it too 😂

Shockingly he did succeed it and was immediately put-off by it, lmao. They wouldn't really develop much of a relationship for a while after that, so at that point DU drow just figured he was trying to get something from him and wrote him off, much as he did with everyone else with the exception of Shadowheart.

He didn't meet her at the Tiefling grove! I didn't even know you could meet her before-hand for the longest time. But he did super, duper kill her at camp of course.

He managed to hide the body and everyone else was none the wiser, huge blood bhaal-sigil on the ground aside lmao. He was a little shocked but didn't feel all that bad about it, kind of resigning to that primal feeling of satisfaction at a job-well-done that overwhelmed him instead. He decided she was too weak to survive out there and he had just spared her the trouble.

#ask compilation #du drow lore

[mynicosensesaretingling]

I have an ideaaaaa!

So, reader is a journalist and she's relatively new, she's supposed to be somewhere but she's super lost and bumps into Nico and she's like 'holy shit it's Nico Rosberg' and he's like 'oh wow she's so pretty' so he takes her where she's supposed to be and they talk the whole way cause it's like across the paddock and when they get there he's like "you're very adorable please let me take you to dinner after the race Sunday"

Chinese grand prix meet cute cause Nico slayed this weekend

To get lost is to get found

Note: Another request I have taken quite some TIME for, so once again my sincerest apologies <3 But life is busy and I genuinely loved this request so much, that I wanted to write it in peace. I genuinely hope you enjoy this and that it can make the long wait at least somewhat worth it :) <3 LOVE TO ALL OF YA!!

The Chinese Grand Prix paddock was alive with the frenetic energy of a race weekend, a cacophony of voices and activity swirling around (Y/N) as she navigated the maze of trailers and hospitality suites. Her head buried in her notes and her mind racing with thoughts of the impending pre-race meeting. Even after working in this position for several months now, the race weekends still gave her a rush of nervousness and excitement. Lost in thought, she unknowingly took a wrong turn and felt herself colliding with something…no, rather someone, sending her papers scattering in all directions.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, flustered as she scrambled to gather her notes from the ground.  "No worries, happens all the time." a somewhat familiar voice responded. Noticing the amused tone in his voice, (Y/N) looked up to find herself face to face with Nico Rosberg, the former Formula One champion, offering her a hand up.

Almost immediately, she could feel her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, ever so slightly. "Nico Rosberg," she murmured, feeling a rush of excitement at the unexpected encounter.

Nico grinned down at her, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Guilty as charged. " His gaze studies her for a few seconds “Not to make broad assumptions, but it looks like you have absolutely no idea where you are going…”

“(Y/N)” she responds, a chuckle escaping her lips, as she took Nico's hand, her cheeks still tinged with pink. "And yeah, I seem to have gotten a bit lost." she shrugged sheepishly, as she dusted off her pants with her free hand.

Nico's smile widened as he gestured for her to follow him. "Well, lucky for you (Y/N), you ran into me. I’m an excellent tour guide you know, I can show you where you need to go."

Grateful for his offer, (Y/N) laughed “How kind of you.”, falling into step beside Nico as they weaved through the bustling paddock. 

Despite her initial nerves, she found herself surprisingly at ease in his presence, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they talked about everything from racing to journalism and everything in between.

"So, what brings you to the Chinese Grand Prix?" Nico asked, genuine interest shining in his eyes, as he turned his head to look at the journalist. Glancing over at him, (Y/N) absentmindedly tapped her stack of papers, "I'm here covering the race for my publication. It's my first time in Shanghai, and I have to admit, it's quite the experience."

Nico nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, as he shifted his focus back in front of him. "It's a unique circuit, that's for sure. I'm sure it’ll offer you plenty to write about." He paused, a cheeky smile on his features, as he turned to her once again. “And in case it doesn’t, you can always interview me, you know.”

Furrowing her brows in a teasing manner of thought, her eyes find his. “Oh and why do you think people would want to read about you?” 

Stopping in his tracks, Nico raises his hand to his chest, gasping in mock hurt. “Excuse me, I am THE Nico Rosberg, former World Champion, excellent reporter and the world’s best paddock guide. What isn’t there to like?”

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at Nico's playful banter, feeling a sense of warmth and camaraderie growing between them with each passing moment. "Well, when you put it like that, how could anyone resist?" she teased, playfully nudging his shoulder as they resumed their walk.

Their conversation continued to flow effortlessly, weaving through topics ranging from their favorite racing memories to their shared love of travel and adventure. As they walked, (Y/N) found herself completely engrossed in Nico's stories, his passion for the sport evident in every word he spoke. 

"So, (Y/N), tell me," Nico began, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "What made you want to become a journalist?"

The woman smiled, a nostalgic gleam in her eyes as she thought back to her childhood. "I've always loved writing," she explained. "And I've been a fan of Formula One for as long as I can remember. So, combining the two just seemed like a natural fit."

Nico nodded, a look of understanding crossing his features. "I can relate," he admitted. "There's something special about being able to share your passion with others."

The former driver paused for a second "It's incredible how our passions can shape our paths in life," he remarked. "I've always felt a deep connection to racing, ever since I was a child watching my father compete. It's been a part of me for as long as I can remember."

(Y/N) listened intently, captivated by Nico's words. "That's amazing," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "To have such a strong connection to something from such a young age."

The blonde shrugged modestly, his eyes reflecting a hint of nostalgia. "It's just always been a part of who I am," he said. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

For the rest of their way through the paddock, (Y/N) found herself sharing a comfortable silence with Nico. There was something about his easygoing demeanour and genuine interest that made her feel at ease.

Before she knew it, they had reached their destination – the room where the pre-race press meeting was being held. Reluctantly, she bid Nico farewell as she prepared to enter the meeting, a sense of warmth lingering in her chest at their unexpected encounter.

But as she turned to go, Nico's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Hey, (Y/N)," he called out, a hint of nervousness creeping into his tone.

(Y/N) turned back to face him, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Yeah?"

Nico hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching hers before he spoke. "I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner with me after the race on Sunday. I'd love to get to know you better."

Her heart skipped a beat at the unexpected invitation, a smile tugging at her lips. "I'd like that," she replied, feeling a surge of excitement coursing through her veins.

“I’ll make sure to find you then.” Nico promised, the softness in his smile and tone threatening to melt her right then and there. Reaching a hand around (Y/N), he opened the door for her. “You better go inside now though, can’t have you fired before I get that chance to take you out to dinner, can we.”

"Yeah, I wouldn't want that," (Y/N) replied with a playful grin, feeling a rush of warmth at Nico's gesture. "I'll see you on Sunday then."

With a final smile, she stepped into the room, the door closing softly behind her. As she settled into her seat among the other journalists, her mind was still reeling from the encounter with Nico.

Throughout the entirety of the meeting, her thoughts kept drifting back to him – his easy smile, the warmth in his eyes, the genuine interest he had shown in her. She couldn't shake the feeling that their dinner date on Sunday was going to be the start of something special.

As the meeting finally drew to a close and the other journalists began to filter out of the room, (Y/N) lingered behind, her mind abuzz with anticipation. She couldn't wait to see Nico again, to continue their conversation and see where this unexpected connection would lead.

With a smile on her face and a flutter of excitement in her heart, she gathered her things and made her way out of the room. 

Sunday couldn't come soon enough.

#f1 drivers #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #nico rosberg x reader #nico rosberg #f1 reader insert #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #nico rosberg imagine #nico rosberg x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 x female reader

[luv4georgie]

i bet on losing dogs.

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

in which formula one star, Max Verstappen, and his girlfriend, Y/n L/n, decide to trauma dump on each-other instead of bottling it up for years.

bit of a reflection because i don’t know who to talk to my past about and all of this (from readers POV) is 1000% accurate so enjoy my sad childhood

warnings: trauma dump, @buse, manipulative mother, traumatic childhood

prompt list

“tell your baby, that i’m your baby.”

it was a normal Saturday for everyone else, but for Y/n and Max it was filled with trust, honesty and betrayal. i know you’re thinking ‘what a funny mix of words!’. true. but here’s what happened that night.

-

it was winter/new years break for the world of Formula 1 and Max had just won his 3rd championship. Max and Y/n were thrilled of course, and the night of his championship was filled with a-lot of lust, if you know what i mean. it was a few weeks later and the couple lay soundly in their bed. Max was stroking Y/n’s hair and face and she fumbled with his fingers. they can’t remember where it first started but somehow they begun talking about their pasts. very traumatic to say the least. Max started with his. talking about the times when his father would get exceedingly angry at Max and the one time he left him at the gas station.

then it moved on to Y/n. she was scared to talk about it and almost backed out. but she knew max wouldn’t tell a soul. it started with when she was 5. “when i was 5 my mother was heavily pregnant with my younger brother. because my parents divorced a few months prior me and my older brother and sister went to my dads. one day my mum really didn’t want me to go to his and when he came to pick me up they were physically fighting over me.” she chuckled. “my dad had me by one arm and my mum had me by the other and were pulling me towards each-other. it was like one of those comedy films” she laughed but Max didn’t. “they were fighting and screaming over me on the drive way. i was scared but i got to my dads fine. a few months later i was at my mums and my younger brother had been born. i was upstairs playing with my monster high dolls and my mum was also upstairs, supposed to be looking after my brother. my older siblings were at my dads at the time. the gate at the top of the stairs wasn’t shut properly and my brother had crawled out of my mum’s room whilst she was watching TV.” Y/n’s face twisted with slight horror and sadness. “H-he fell down the stairs and i heard his cries and large thumps so i ran out my room to see what was going on, hoping my mother hadn’t of hit him. when i saw him lying at the bottom of the stairs i ran down and picked him up, i was struggling since i was only little, and i heard my mum follow me shortly after. she grabbed him from my arms and put him on the couch. thankfully he didn’t break anything or cut himself. i stared at my mum as she stormed towards me. she grabbed me by the arm and got up in my face shouting out about how it was my fault.” Y/n paused, tears welling up in her eyes as she remembered the horrific moment. “then she through me against the radiator. i was crying and scared not knowing why she did it. but i accepted it and let her be angry. the next day i woke up and she came and gave me a kiss. i was confused because i cried myself to sleep thinking she didn’t like me.”

Y/n finished her story with a tear going across her nose bridge due to her lying down and Max was surprised. they hugged all throughout that night sharing kisses and praises between each-other. they were the same, yet they were so different. alas, they were in love.

-

sorry it’s so short. i just wanted to put something out here because i don’t want to not be posting anymore. i do NOT support anything that has happened in this fic and do not condone it. hope you all have a beautiful day or night. love you so much ❤️

#f1 #f1 x reader imagines #spotify #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 #nolan hansen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #mv1 #Spotify

[mieczyhale]

WATCHED THE TRAILER FOR S4 OF UMBRELLA ACADEMY AND UHHH WELL LETS SEE

Hargreeves Home for Wayward BOYS?

Viktor the bartender???

Ben what did you DO

Diego looks like he's cosplaying as Gomez Addams

KLAUS

They all look so fucking tired and Done sldflksd love that they're basically all comfy looking and then you have Five

listen. Listen. i LIKE klaus's hair in the trailer. i've wanted short haired klaus back since we lost him after the war. is it as good as his s1 hair?? no. but it's not as bad as the s2 short wig or the cult leader hair so god fucking bless

"we're back we're back we're back everyone get out of the way we're back" "FIRST MISSION BACK" THIS MADE ME SO HYPE

i'm sorry was that viktor beating someone up??!

the use of the final countdown was a little silly but then again this is the A Little Silly show so it works

LOVED the use of Hargreeves dialogue from the flashback in s1e1. bringing it full circle, baby!!!

DANCE SCENE. CANNOT have a season without one

did they just get weapons from a fast food place???

five finally gets a hug, which i love, but it being lila and he's clearly comforting her?? okay. not what i wanted for him but whatever

SANTA???!!!

the umbrella tattoo is back!!

klaus not having his palm tattoos makes me sad. bitch we are supposed to MATCH

AND YOU GET AN EXTRA HOUR IN THE BALL PIT

very quick glimpse of something that looks like it came from a marvel movie. not idea what's happening there but it's gonna be cool. i think. maybe.

BENTACLES

AUGUST 8TH?? OH I AM SO NOT EMOTIONALLY PREPARED AND THAT IS NOT GOING TO CHANGE

still tentatively excited for the final season but definitely a little more excited and a little less tentative. i don't want to get my hopes too high tho. i think one reason i loved s3 so much is because i went in with such low expectations after being so disappointed by s2 and i don't want the end of this show to be another s2. it HAS to go well or i'm not going to be well

#you don't understand what this show means to me #s1 was life changing #it is EVERYTHING to me still #i really need this to end on that kind of high #or something close to it at least #at least 2.0 the vibes better be right and the soundtrack better land. if NOTHING FUCKING ELSE #am i being dramatic?? yes but also no fuck you #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy spoilers #i guess #mytuaposts #maison speaks

[sidekick-hero]

The road to hell

(steddie | teen | wc: 2.8k | tags: demon!steve, exes, reconcilation, accidental demon summoning | AO3)

I have no idea what happened, but this prompt wouldn't leave me alone so have a short, self-indulgent demon!Steve crack fic.

Eddie was not wallowing. He was not.

He’s simply spending his Saturday evening home alone, sitting on his couch and drinking expensive whiskey straight from the bottle with The Cranberries crooning in the background. No biggie.

Steve hated it when he drank hard liquor from the bottle. He always insisted on using the crystal tumblers he'd owned even before he and Eddie had gotten together. Most of their stuff had been Steve’s because Eddie had been living in a one-bedroom apartment the size of a shoebox before they moved in together, while Steve owned an honest-to-god mansion.

Eddie should’ve known they’d never make it.

Their differences had been thrilling at first, sure, but it was never meant to last. He knows that now.

If he’d only known five years ago when the officiator had asked, “And do you want to take Steven Baron Harrington to be your lawfully wedded husband?” he could’ve said no if he’d known that only three years later, Steve would smash his heart into pieces.

The worst part though? Eddie knows that even knowing what would come, he wouldn’t want to give up the three years of blissful happiness before that.

Because Steve and he? They had been happy. He knows they had been. Eddie had been the happiest man on earth until the day Steve said they needed to talk. They hadn’t really talked, after all, because there hadn’t been much for Eddie to say.

What do you say when the man you believe is the love of your life tells you that he can’t do this anymore, that he thought he could be happy with Eddie but it wasn’t working? Apparently, it wasn’t Eddie’s fault, but Steve’s.

Yeah, right.

It’s definitely Steve’s fault Eddie is drinking himself stupid on what is supposed to be his fifth wedding anniversary, if not for the divorce papers he got this morning with his mail. Ready to be signed by him, Steve’s flourished signature taunting him.

What kind of asshole sends his soon-to-be ex-spouse divorce papers on their wedding anniversary?

Eddie’s not wallowing in self-pity because Eddie is livid. He’s so goddamn pissed that Steve would do that to him after promising to cherish him, to love him. How could he have been so stupid and believed all the promises Steve had made? Promises of forever, of growing old and wrinkly together, of sharing the good and the bad times with each other.

Apparently, that has all been bullshit because Eddie’s in the middle of some horrible times and Steve’s nowhere to be seen.

Taking another big swig from the rapidly emptying bottle, Eddie stares at the photo album in his lap. It’s the album with their wedding photos and one of the very few things he had taken from their shared home before he left.

He sets the album aside and reaches for another item, something he'd grabbed by accident during the chaos of moving out. It’s a book with an ornate, leather-bound cover that had always been on Steve's bookshelf, untouched and gathering dust.

Eddie flips it open, curiosity piqued by the strange symbols and archaic script. The words look like nothing he’s ever seen, some ancient language or elaborate code. He squints at the pages, the whiskey making the characters dance.

"What the hell did you collect, Steve?" he mumbles, running his finger along the odd script. He starts murmuring the strange words aloud, half in jest, half in drunken curiosity.

As he clumsily flips through the pages, one of them gives him a paper cut. "Shit," he curses, watching a drop of blood swell on his fingertip and drip onto the book. The blood seeps into the page, the crimson drop spreading and absorbing into the parchment.

The room suddenly grows colder, the air thick with an oppressive energy. Eddie looks around, a chill running down his spine. “What the…”

Before he can finish the thought, the book begins to glow, the symbols pulsing with a dark, eerie light. The room vibrates with a low hum, and Eddie stumbles back, eyes wide with horror and disbelief.

The light intensifies, and with a sudden burst, a figure emerges from the book, surrounded by a swirling vortex of shadows. Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest as the figure materializes, taking on a familiar shape.

“Steve?” Eddie gasps, his voice a mix of shock and terror.

The figure steps forward, solidifying into a very real, very present Steve. Except… not quite. His eyes glow with an unearthly light, and dark, swirling tattoos snake up his arms and neck.

“Hello, Eddie,” Steve—or the demon that looks like him—says, a smirk playing on his lips. “Miss me?”

Eddie’s bottle slips from his hand, shattering on the floor as he scrambles away, fear etched on his face. Seeing Eddie’s reaction, Steve’s smirk fades, replaced by a look of hurt and sadness.

“What the heck is going on, Steve?” Eddie demands, his voice shaking, eyes wide with a mix of anger and confusion. “If this is some kind of…of prank then it’s not funny at all.”

Steve looks apologetic. “It’s not a prank, Eddie. God, I wish it were. This,” he says as he stretches out his arm, the palm of his hand facing upwards, “is real.”

A flame appears atop Steve’s hand, casting shadows over his not-quite-human face.

Most of Eddie was fucking terrified, but he would be lying if he said there wasn’t also a part that thought Steve looked even more beautiful like that.

“So you’re saying… What? That you’re -” He can’t bring himself to say it. It sounds insane, even in his head. Speaking it out loud would mean risking his sanity, he knows it.

“A demon? A spawn of hell? A monster? An abomination? You can choose one of these, I’ve been called worse.”

Steve says it nonchalant, giving Eddie a shrug of his shoulder and a wary twist of his mouth, but Eddie knows him. Knows his tells. His heart twinges in his chest at the sight, fingers itching to reach out and pull Steve in his arms and sooth his self-doubt and insecurities.

But then he remembers that he’s a demon, a fact he conveniently forget to tell Eddie because… Because what? Because Eddie was just a mere human, vulnerable, weak, helpless? Did Steve think he couldn’t handle the truth? Or was he embarrassed what all the other demons would think if they’d knew he was married to a mortal?

“And you kept this from me because I'm just a weak, pathetic human? Is that it? Were you embarrassed of stupid little Eddie, who has to use a lighter to get some fire?”

Steve laughs brokenly, the sound raw and bitter and Eddie’s heart tightens as Steve's laughter echoes hollowly in the room. He waits for Steve's response, his eyes searching for some semblance of truth in the demon's gaze.

"No, Eddie, it’s not that," Steve finally replies, his voice carrying a weight of regret. "I ended things because I’m a demon. We don’t belong here. I’m only allowed on Earth for as long as a deal I have with a mortal lasts. My last one was a ten-year deal, and it ended a few days after I broke things off with you."

Eddie’s eyes widen, hurt mingling with confusion. "So, you broke up with me because your deal ended?"

"Yes," Steve admits, his voice softening, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and longing. "It was stupid to fall for a human in the first place. I didn’t plan on it, I swear, but I couldn’t help myself. Your clumsy ass was just too irresistible."

"Shut up, you love my ass," Eddie retorts without thinking, falling back into their old banter as easy as breathing.

Steve doesn’t laugh, just looks at Eddie with liquid hazel eyes that shine with a red hue if Eddie tilts his head just so. “I do. That’s why I ended things in the worst possible way. I loved you too much to drag you into my mess so I had to let you go. I hoped that it would be easier if you could just hate me.”

Eddie’s breath catches, tears welling up. “But why didn’t you just tell me?” he whispers, the pain in his voice palpable.

"I couldn’t," Steve says, stepping closer, his eyes pleading, glistening with unshed tears. “I didn’t want to hurt you more than necessary. So, I went back to Hell.”

Eddie shakes his head, trying to process everything. “Let me get this straight. You loved me… but you left. You didn’t want to hurt me… but you decided to just tell me it’s over one day, no explanation, letting me think it was my fault. That I wasn’t good enough.”

“I had to,” Steve insists, his voice breaking. “I thought it was the only way to protect you.”

Eddie looks at him, a mixture of anger and longing in his eyes. “So, what now?”

Steve sighs, looking more human than ever despite the demonic aura. “I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t know.”

Eddie’s chest tightens, too many conflicting emotions swirling inside him. “Why, Steve? Why let me fall in love with you if this was how it was going to end?”

Steve steps closer, reaching out but stopping short of touching Eddie. “Because I’m a demon, Eddie. I’m selfish, and cruel. Loving you, having you love me back, it was the best part of my existence. Even if it had to end, those years with you were worth everything. Even if I knew it would hurt in the end, I couldn’t stop myself.”

Eddie’s tears finally spill over, and he chokes out, “You left me broken, Steve. You made me love you and then you discarded me like a broken toy, leaving me wondering what it was that I did wrong, why you stopped loving me. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that.”

Steve’s own eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I know. I’m so sorry, Eddie. I thought I was doing the right thing not telling you. I thought… I thought it would be better for you. That you could hate me and move on.”

“Have you?” Eddie scoffs, wiping at his tears angrily.

“Have I what?”

“Moved on,” Eddie clarifies, chastising himself for the tentative hope blooming in his chest.

Steve looks down, his expression one of deep regret. “No,” he admits, “I haven’t. Not sure I’ll ever will but that was supposed to be my problem. At least before you managed to summon me with a grimoire you apparently stole from me. How did you even do that?”

“I just… took it?” Eddie has the good grace to look a bit sheepish.

With a fond chuckle, Steve’s usual reaction when Eddie was saying something silly, Steve shakes his head. “No, dummy. How the hell - pun totally intended - did you summon me from hell? That’s some serious blood magic.”

Steve looks impressed and Eddie wants to preen under it, but he also knows that it hadn’t been his magical proficiency exactly that had summoned Steve.

“It was an accident,” he mumbles, avoiding Steve’s gaze. It figured that the one time Eddie did something truly impressive, apparently, it was a drunken accident. And of course Steve couldn’t let it go, either.

“Come again? This almost sounded like…”

Burying his face in his hands, Eddie groans deep in his chest. Then he raises his arms in an exasperated gesture. “It was an accident, okay? I cut my finger on the paper. Happy now?” He adds petulantly.

Steve laughs at that. “Only you, Eddie, only you…” The way Steve looks at him with so much fondness, face soft and almost yearning, tugs at Eddie’s heart. “Actually, yeah, I’m happy your drunken ass managed something most people who tried failed at, because it means I got to see you again. I… I really missed you, Bambi.”

Eddie takes a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. “So, what happens now, Steve? Do you go back to Hell?”

Steve looks up, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Not if I can help it. I want to find a way to be with you, Eddie. For real, this time. But I don’t know how.”

Eddie’s heart aches at the sincerity in Steve’s voice, but the hurt and betrayal still linger. “I don’t know if I can trust you again, Steve. Not after everything.”

Steve nods, understanding. “I know it won’t be easy. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. To prove that I love you, no matter what.”

Eddie looks at Steve, the love and pain in his heart warring with each other. “We’ll see, Steve. We’ll see.”

With his head in his hands, Eddie’s sat on the couch, still processing the whirlwind of revelations and emotions. Steve was back, a demon, but still the man he loved. And now, Steve wants to find a way to be with him for real. The absurdity of the situation makes Eddie’s head spin. He reaches for the whiskey bottle again, but Steve gently takes it from his hand before he can take another sip.

“Hey, I think you’ve had enough of that,” Steve says, a hint of humor in his voice. “Besides, we need you sober if we’re going to figure this out.”

Eddie blinks at him, then bursts into a half-sob, half-laugh. “This is so messed up, Steve. My ex-husband is a demon, and I summoned him by accident, and now he won’t even let me drink to deal with it because he wants me to help him find a way to stay topside. What is my life?”

Steve chuckles softly, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and affection. “It’s certainly not what you expected, I bet.”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the chaos of emotions swirling within him. “No, definitely not what I expected.”

As the tension begins to ease between them, Eddie gestures towards the broken whiskey bottle on the floor. “Guess you owe me a drink for cleaning up your mess,” he quips, attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Steve’s chuckle grows into a genuine laugh, the sound echoing warmly through the room. “You can hold me to that. But first, let’s figure out how to fix this.”

Eddie sighs, rubbing his temples. “Alright, demon ex-husband. What’s the plan?”

Steve looks thoughtful for a moment, then grins. "First, we need some coffee. Strong coffee. And then maybe I'll give you a crash course in demonology? See if that magical brain of yours can come up with an idea. You've always been good at thinking outside the box, and that's exactly what we're going to need."

Eddie groans, but can't help the small smile on his lips. "Fine. But if you think I'm going to let you stay here without doing the dishes, you've got another thing coming."

Steve laughs, a genuine, joyful sound that makes Eddie's heart ache with nostalgia. "Deal. Any other terms, oh, husband of mine?"

"Ex-husband. Someone decided to send divorce papers on our anniversary. I should have known you were a demon with a move like that."

All the color drains from Steve's face, his eyes widen comically. He looks so completely human now, if not for the tattoos still swirling on his skin. "Oh fuck. It's the first of May? Shit, shit, shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry! I told Vince to get the papers to you as soon as possible before I went back to hell, I had no idea he'd wait until today."

The thing is, Steve really looks devastated at the thought, his eyes begging Eddie to believe him. He knows Steve - at least he thought he did - and the man he knew wouldn't hurt him like that. Not knowingly. But he also thought that the man he knew wouldn't lie to him for years and break his heart, so what does Eddie really know? He shouldn't be trusted with life decisions, not even his own.

Suddenly he is tired of being angry at Steve. Part of him thinks this is all a dream anyway, and tomorrow when he wakes up he can go back to being angry at him and blaming him for the massive hangover he's got.

Tonight he wants to live in a world where Steve had to leave him because he's a demon and now he accidentally summoned him and is trying to help him stay here for good.

"It's okay, Steve. How about that coffee and demonology crash curse? By the way, I can't believe you never wanted to play DnD with us. You would have crushed it."

Steve gives him a grateful smile and follows Eddie into the kitchen.

"We can treat this like one of your adventures. But don't use your DM voice or whatever on me or we won't get anything done tonight."

The heat in Steve's eyes is probably hellfire, Eddie thinks as he audibly swallows. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Or, in Eddie's case, with drunken accidental summonings.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #demon steve harrington #human eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #my writing

[spotsandsocks]

The Last of the Tea is Gone

This started life as a title prompt from ask game sent to me by @madambeetrootn who I can not tag sadly. They liked it, I liked it so I’ve spruced it up and here it is for a bit of light fluff before 7x10 breaks our heart.

If there’s one thing that Eddie does not like it’s doing the grocery shop, regardless of his feelings though he’ll do a good job, a thorough job and that means making a list. So it’s time to look through the cupboards and check what they need.

The second cupboard door he opens generates a frustrated growl. Reaching up with clenched teeth, he shakes his head, how many times does he have to tell him? Again! This is sadly not the first time he’s found an empty box of teabags sitting on the shelf.

It’s Buck’s tea, the one that he drinks whenever he’s round. Disgusting stuff but for some reason he loves it.

Sighing the sigh of the long suffering Eddie grabs hold of the offending cardboard, why can’t that man ever put an empty box or bottle in the recycling. It’s not that hard. Eddie manages it every day. Even Chris half the time but Buck not so much.

The moment freezes as Eddie looks at his hand holding the vanished tea and a thought blazes through his mind bright and intense and overwhelming.

Buck keeps his tea here, the thought shifts and changes, no …he keeps Buck’s tea here, for him. He remembers buying the last box clearly. Buck wasn’t even with him that day, he was grocery shopping on his own, and why is Buck even with him sometimes when he does the grocery shopping anyway?

After that question others flood his mind.

Why does he buy Buck’s tea? Why does it run out so often?

What does it mean?

He knows, oh god he knows… finally he sees it.

Eddie stays frozen to the spot, staring at the small cardboard cartoon that’s caused him to have an existential crisis in his own kitchen.

Footsteps and a voice finally shake him.

“What’s wrong?” Buck sounds worried. Eddie supposes he probably does make an unusual picture right now. Staring at an empty box. He looks up and finds blue eyes and a frown close by.

“The last of the tea is gone.”

Perfectly clear from his point of view but not so much from Buck’s

“The last of the tea is gone?,” The sentence is repeated with concern and a deepening frown. “And that’s …. a bad thing? You don’t even drink my tea, why are you so upset about it?”

“It doesn’t last very long.”

Another random comment from Eddie at least as far as Buck is concerned but the words mean everything to Eddie.

Buck steps closer, a hand tentatively reaching out to support his best friend through his unexpectedly complicated feelings about tea. He speaks slowly.

“No… that’s ‘cos I drink it. That’s what you do with tea…Eddie are you ok.?”

He’s a man of action always had been so now he knows, well there’s really no option but to do something with the information. He answers his best friend, the man who’s ended up so much more important to him than he could ever have imagined on the day they met. The man he buys tea for and the man who drinks it in his home so often it barely lasts.

“Not really.” Eddie looks at Buck and wonders if he can see what’s coming. “Well maybe …I guess it depends on if you’re in love with me because I just worked out I’m in love with you.”

Buck laughs, a brief surprised bark of humor and then his grin lights up the kitchen.

“Really? That’s what finally did it? An empty box of tea?

Eddie smiles back, how could he not when he has this.

“Apparently. So… are you?”

Eddie doesn’t get an answer but he does get a kiss and that kiss tastes like Buck’s stupid tea, which is isn’t so bad after all.

Maybe he’ll get two boxes next time.

#911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie ficlet #911 fic #911fic #fluff #no time to tag #be back to do that later #title prompt game #buddie fic