#Food Court Golden I | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

violetflowerswrites · 5 months ago

Text

Sweet Relief

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: servant/master, possession, religious-ish themes, dom/sub, sex pollen, cockwarming, oral (female receiving), pain/discipline, fingering, p in v sex, language, 18+

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I’m rewatching the Marvel movies in order and my god. I forgot how absolutely diabolical and adorable young Loki is! I was inspired to make this VERY smutty, all-porn-no-plot fic. Takes place before the events of Thor 1. Hope you enjoy my first Loki fic!

Tags: @foxherder @lovingchoices14

The long linen fabric of your healer’s tunic brushed against the cold marble floor as you rushed past. Your steps were gentle and quick, trying to make next to no sound as you swept past the tall columns, and arched ceilings of the royal halls. Finally outside the gilded wood of the giant doors to his bed chambers, your breath seemed to stall in your lungs.

This simply was not done. You were approached, never doing the approaching yourself. Improper didn’t even begin to describe what you were doing.

Your gentle knock was virtually silent the first time, so you steeled yourself and tried again.

“Identify yourself.”

A lazy voice called from within, but his tone was laced with an undeniable authority.

You spoke your name, placed your title in front of it.

Healer.

You weren’t a lady, a warrior—hell, you weren’t even nobility.

You belonged to a class of healers in Asgardian society. Seen as a type of servant, but respected nonetheless. To serve in the court meant you had a sizable talent for basic magic, and for spiritual healing.

But, if you were a woman in this position, it also meant you were a glorified prostitute.

You and your healer sisters before you have served in the healing room for centuries, servicing warriors, tending to their injuries after battle. But Asgard has long been in a season of peace, so the healers needed to fill another role.

Asgard was now a land of paradise, a land of plenty. That is, plenty of food, drink, beauty, wealth, and of course, plenty of sex. The nobility needed a way to make this discreet. After all, the royal court could hardly be seen having frivolous dalliances with just anyone. They needed to marry for alliance, for power, and for proper bloodlines, of course.

That’s where the healers came in. Come to the healing room for a sleeping draught, or an ointment for a sore shoulder, and get a service on top of it. You and your sisters were carefully trained in the ways of pleasure, and secrecy.

But, here you were, in front of your Lord’s chambers, breaking every rule and propriety ingrained in you since you first worked in the court as a young girl.

“Enter.” He commanded.

With shaky hands, you pushed the heavy bedroom doors open with your slender muscles.

The sight was grand, and a bit unexpected. Thick, dark green drapes covered the walls from ceiling to floor, and deep cherry wood bookshelves lined an entire side of the bedroom. A fireplace and candles were lit, making the chambers seem warm, yet a tinge ominous. A sharp contrast to the golden pearly halls of the rest of Asgard’s royal chambers.

Loki sat at a massive wooden desk, cleaved from the center of an oak tree, and absolutely littered with a number of bottles and vials, books and scrolls. A lone curtain was left half open, letting in what little light was left of the setting summer sun.

He addressed you disinterestedly, not even bothering to lift his head up from his book.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Healer?” Loki called out quietly across the vast room.

Your back was pressed up against the door, unable to get your feet to move. Your body disobeyed what your mind wanted, forgetting to curtsey or even duck your head. Instead, your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Loki took a beat in your silence and chuckled lowly to himself.

“I must say, this is quite unexpected, and against the rules I might add.”

Amusement glittered in his eyes at the mention of breaking the rules.

After all, he was the God of Mischief. Breaking the rules was his bread and butter.

Loki finally gazed up and took you in more carefully, wondering why a healer such as yourself would dare incur the wrath of your order by entering a nobleman’s chambers without permission, let alone the prince of Asgard.

Second prince of Asgard, but a prince nonetheless.

Then he noticed you, really noticed you.

He took in your flushed face, the way you absentmindedly kept rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you hugged yourself, and your thighs pressing your legs together to seek any sort of relief you could.

Even from across the room, Loki’s god-eyes could see the steady thrumming of the vein on your neck, moving rapidly with your heartbeat. He wanted to taste your skin and feel your pulse under his hot tongue.

Loki was a keen observer. Knowing how to read body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice was more important than any magical mischief he could get up to. Reading people was enough to get him most things that he wanted in life.

And right now, he decided he wanted you.

“You may approach, Healer.”

As if the spell had been broken, you swallowed to wet your dry throat and stepped towards the prince.

“How did you get past the guards?” Loki questioned.

“I said you needed a sleeping draught. You’ve been having trouble falling asleep for the past few days.” Your voice came out squeaky and feeble, a far cry from your usual tone.

Loki pursed his lips. This was not untrue.

“Leave it here.” He gestured casually to the desk and went back to his reading, while keeping half an eye on you.

Your trembling hands set down the small bottle of liquid with a bit of a clatter, and you quickly stepped back, just a few feet from where Loki sat.

“There’s something else.” Loki murmured lowly, eyes still flicking over the pages.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

Before you could begin to state your wild request, Loki said something else that you didn’t expect.

“I know you.”

You flitted your eyes up at his handsome face, and was startled by his piercing blue gaze. Quickly, you looked down at your feet.

The younger prince of Asgard had long since caught your eye. Every time he returned from battle you snatched the opportunity to treat him.

Rumor had it that he rarely asked for a healer's services, even when he was at the peak of adolescence. Some said he had a taste for the other sex. Others said he found his pleasure off-planet.

Whereas Thor openly indulged in excess, including women, drink, and violence, Loki was careful, calculated, and purposeful in all his actions. His mysterious, unreadable nature only served to make him more attractive to you.

“Yes, m’Lord. I have treated your injuries before, alongside other sisters.”

“You sang to me.”

You gasped, shocked that he remembered. It was a particularly gruesome battle and Loki was crushed badly in the side. You and your sisters forced him into a spell-induced sleep so that you could bind his broken bones. The Queen was distraught and ordered a round-the-clock watch to ensure he was healing well. You ended up on night watch, singing lullabies when he fought demons in his sleep.

“I did not know you heard me, m’ Lord.” You whispered, the heat inside of you coming out in waves off your hot skin.

“Speak freely. What is it that you request of me?” Loki schooled his tone to sound detached, but you could hear the curiosity in his words.

Sucking in a breath, you relayed a stuttered story of how a nobleman asked the healers to create a love potion that would increase ones libido, but it would only work against someone they were attracted to. Eventually, they would be like a dog in heat, and could only be relieved by intense pleasuring from a potential lover.

And you were the unlucky soul who got “volunteered” to take the experimental potion on a test run.

Although they tried their utmost, your sisters were unable to bring you relief and now, a few hours later, you sought after your long-time crush, Loki.

Hoping he’d do something to help relieve you of your suffering.

Although what, you didn’t dare dream of.

Ashamed, you bowed your head, looking at the marble floor and wishing a hole would open up and sink you into the dark waters below your realm.

At best, he’d let you go back to the healing room and never speak of this again. At worst, he’d have you arrested and banished for attempting such a lecherous act against a prince of Asgard.

“Sit.”

Your head jerked up, and you stared. Loki wasn’t looking at you though, he was back to his book, but his palm patted his muscular thigh.

Gods, was he asking you to sit in his lap?

You slowly brought a leg over his until your core straddled his hips. His cool body temperature immediately soothed your hot one, and you carefully brought your arms to clasp behind his neck.

Moving quickly before he changed his mind, you immediately put your training to use.

“Would my Lord like a massage?” You offered quietly.

“Yes, darling, that would be lovely.” Loki agreed nonchalantly, again, eyes still glued to his book.

Your strong fingers squeezed the tight knots on Loki’s shoulders, feeling the firm, yet lean muscles there. You pulled up his flesh, pressing deeply until the tension melted away in your hands.

Moving upwards, you combed your fingers through his jet-black hair, massaging his scalp, and temples.

The man gave no signs at all that he was affected by your touch, or by having an attractive young woman in his lap.

But then, he turned, exposing a pale neck underneath the raised leather collar of his garments. You took that as an invitation to press your lips to his smooth skin. Loki could feel your warm breath exhale in a contented sigh as your thumbs continued to knead circles, followed by soft kisses all over his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear.

Even with your face pressed to his, you almost missed what he whispered next.

“Warm my cock for me, dearest.”

An uncontrollable whimper escaped from your lips at his dirty words.

To be fully honest, you didn’t know how far Loki was going to let you take this. And the answer seemed to be…

All the way.

You pulled off your undergarments and undid the buttons of his leather trousers. His member was already half-erect, but it came to life fully as you gently rubbed him in both of your warm hands.

Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you could feel the breath catch in his chest as his cock breached your tight entrance.

Your eyes squeezed shut immediately at the contact, having not loosened your sensitive core beforehand, and Loki was large. His member wasn’t the thickest you’ve ever had, but it was slender, and long.

Slowly, carefully, you sank down, half-way at first, taking a pause to adjust, then further in until your ass rested on his lap once again.

The tip of his cock pushed up against your cervix, and you’ve never felt more full in your life.

Relaxing, you pressed your chest to his, leaning in as your core wrapped its hot, moist flesh around him. Loki for his part, was completely silent, reaching his arms behind your back to continue flipping through his book.

“What are you reading?” You murmur, content to just be filled for the time being. The initial stage of insatiable desire had been temporarily slaked by simply having his length inside of you.

“A spell-book on illusion magic. Could be useful for battle, or tricking my brother.” A soft chuckle rumbled through his body, the vibrations stimulating your center immediately.

You moaned, losing yourself in pleasure, but Loki shushed you gently.

“Be a good girl and sit quietly. I want to finish this section.”

So you did. After having spent the past few hours in heat, having any kind of relief now was enough to lull you into a daze. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the crinkle of pages of Loki’s book, and your quiet breath.

Every so often, he would shift his weight and it would push his cock in a different part of your core. You bit your lip each time to keep from making any noise, but the wetness that leaked from your pussy betrayed your arousal. You were sure that Loki’s thighs would be soaked by the time he finished reading.

Abruptly, Loki snapped his book shut with a bang. You flinched automatically at the loud sound.

“That’s enough, my dear.” He stated with finality.

You gingerly pulled yourself off, his still-hard member slipping out of your core, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. Legs wobbly from sitting straddled wide for so long, you tried your best to look put together, smoothing down your tunic, and taking a tentative step back.

“My Lord, thank you for—“ you attempted a statement of propriety, assuming that you were being dismissed.

Wordlessly, Loki grabbed you roughly by the neck and hauled you forward, an arm pulling your hips against his as he crushed you with a kiss.

Your body melted into his immediately, overwhelmed by the pressure of his lips against yours, his tongue forcing his way into your mouth, and —gods was that teeth?—nipping at your lower lip. You had no idea that a kiss could be so utterly demanding and violent.

Loki wasn’t just kissing you.

He was devouring you.

“It’s time for some discipline, healer. Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been tonight?” Loki growled against your neck, biting you not quite so gently there.

“No, tell me m’ Lord.” The response breathed out through bruised lips. Your pupils were blown out with lust and so were his.

“No? Then, I’ll help you count each disobedience.”

With that, Loki pulled your tunic and shift off, leaving you completely exposed before him.

“Exquisite,” he murmured, while licking his lips.

Roughly, he wrenched your arm and pulled you towards his generous bed, throwing you down the middle of the lush mattress.

Before you had a chance to sit up, he flipped you onto your stomach and smacked a hard slap to your ass.

“Fuck!” The expletive exploded out of you at the sharp sting.

“Number one: deceiving the guards.”

Another slap hit your other ass cheek.

“Number two: sneaking into the royal chambers.”

His hand met your bottom again.

“Number three: sneaking into my bedroom, a prince of Asgard no less.”

Another hit. The skin of your ass was already inflamed pink with the first few smacks.

Loki watched the color bloom before slowly raking his icy-blue eyes across your body. A sheen of sweat had broken out along your back and your face was buried in the sheets.

Loki’s never hurt a girl in the bedroom before, but seeing the redness of your ass, and feeling the tingling remnants of each slap on his own hand. Well, that awoke something sinister in his heart, and his loins.

“Number four: you were a fool to take the love potion. You are supposed to be a healer, not a witch.”

This next blow from Loki was even stronger than the last. The contact with your tender skin echoed off the high ceiling of his bedroom.

“Hells—Loki you are going to leave a mark!” The pain had you gritting your teeth, and temporarily forgetting your manners.

Hearing his name roll off your tongue made him laugh with delight. Who knew he would have so much fun punishing a troublesome little girl like you?

He leaned forward, pressing his erection into the swell of your ass, and spoke lowly into your ear.

“My darling, when I’m done with you, your body will be marked permanently.”

The threat made you shut your mouth and turn your burning face away from his, speechless.

“Number five: you were a fool to seek out me for relief.”

The final hit was the most painful. Loki lifted both of his hands and brought them down with so much force that you let out a scream of shock, pain, and pleasure all at once.

He immediately squeezed your pliant flesh in his palms, massaging the slap-warmed skin there.

After a moment of silence, he released his touch altogether and sat back on the bed, watching you.

Cautiously, you crawled up on your hands and knees and sat up, using your arms to hold up your weight rather than sitting on your tender bottom.

He studied your face in quiet contemplation as he watched a mixture of emotions course through you.

Pain, of course.

A bit of fear.

Apprehension, understandably.

But as you drew in shaky breaths, staring back at him, he saw what he was hoping for.

Attraction. Lust. Arousal. Greed.

Even after all of that, you still wanted him. Hells, even without the potion coursing through your veins you would have still wanted to fuck him.

The dominant, torturous streak was a surprise, but you never knew what Loki was capable of, to begin with.

Everything was a surprise with him.

And yet, you craved so much more.

Suddenly gentle, Loki guided you backwards until your head hit his soft pillows.

He settled in between your legs, prying them apart until his face was inches away from your puffy inner lips.

“How did that feel, my dear?” He pressed kisses against your inner thighs, loving how smooth and soft your skin was.

“It hurt.” You ground out, indignance lacing your tone, trying not to show how anything Loki did to you felt good.

Better than good. He was better than any nobleman you’ve ever had to service before. Sex with them was vanilla, predictable. Loki was anything but.

“Ah, but you liked it. Didn’t you, sweet girl?” He paused and looked up at you with those baby blues.

Underneath his steady gaze, you knew there was no point in lying. Loki could see through you in a heartbeat.

“Yes. It felt good.” You confessed.

Tutting with that silver tongue of his, endearments and praise continued to pour out of that sly mouth.

And kisses. Hot, wet, soft kisses to every part of your inner thighs, your mound, your puffy pussy lips.

“You naughty girl. Entering my chambers, asking me to give you relief.”

He pressed his lips to you.

“Sitting on my cock, letting me fill up that tight cunt of yours.”

A regal nose brushed against your slit, dragging wetness up your core.

“Enjoying pain with your pleasure. Letting me ravage your body. You’re a temptress, my sweet.”

A deep inhale. Gods, Loki was breathing in your sex right in front of you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your nails digging into your palms.

“Did you know, darling, that I could smell you the second you entered my chambers?” He exhaled, warm air tickling the moisture leaking out of you.

You didn’t dare reply, knowing that all that could come out of you now would be whines of lust.

“You, my dear, are ripe.”

With that, Loki dove head first into your cunt, licking and sucking like you were his favorite dessert.

The potion made your pussy swollen and sensitive, so everything he did felt ten times more pleasurable than anything your sisters tried.

Your hands gripped his wide shoulders and your knees fell apart as he ate you out.

“Loki—my Lord, I, I can’t!” You stammered out, head falling back as you enjoyed his worship of your pussy.

“Cat got your tongue, dear?” Loki joked, before taking your clit in between his perfect teeth.

“Fuck!” You positively screamed, which only made Loki double down.

Finally, he let go and you slowly loosened your grip, not realizing that you had been knuckle deep in his beautiful hair, tugging it, tangling it in your fingers. You saw pink half moons littered on the pale skin of his neck and face, evidence of your nails digging into his flesh.

Taking a beat to breathe, you smoothed his locks down on his head.

“Did I hurt you?” You inquired, feeling ashamed that you had lost yourself so completely in your lust.

“Yes. But I liked it, dearest. You can hurt me as much as you want to. Just as long as I can do the same.”

The dirty confession made your heart stutter in your chest, eyes wide. Seeing your expression, Loki laughed aloud, the sound blessing your ears.

He crawled up your body now, straightening your legs.

“Let’s see how ready you are for me, hmm?” Loki inserted one finger, then another into your pussy.

“Gods! That feels—!” You whined.

“Good, isn't it?” Loki finished for you. “Now, what about…here?”

He curled his digits upwards and put delicious pressure onto your spongy inner center.

Waves of stimulation shot through your limbs as your voice cried out in broken moans.

“Your knees are trembling, sweet girl.” Loki observed with amusement.

Indeed they were, and they continued to shake uncontrollably as Loki clamped down even harder, his fingers thrusting now.

“I-I can’t help it!” You cried out again, as Loki kissed your breasts, his hot mouth finding purchase on an erect nipple.

Your hands gripped his wrist and he couldn’t tell if you were trying to pull his hand out, or push it in deeper.

Regardless, he ground his palm against your clit, scissoring his digits inside of you, stretching you.

Preparing you.

“Oh my—I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out. Loki had already made you cum a few times. First, when his cock filled you up as you were sitting on his lap. Second, when he bit down on your clit.

And now, with his skilled fingers, he was making your pussy spasm and weep under his touch.

The orgasm was powerful, your whole body jerking up against his. With his free hand, Loki held you down, enjoying the wild ride.

Finally, as you relaxed, Loki released you and sat back. His forehead dappled with sweat, and his own breath coming in hard.

You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Loki, your prince, was pleasuring, no—worshiping your body like it was his personal gift from Valhalla. He made you feel pleasure at heights you didn’t know existed. Somehow, he simply knew your body even though this was the first time he had ever touched you.

Lost in post-orgasm bliss, your eyes lazily traveled down to his still clothed erection, fighting to get out of his trousers. A thought crossed your mind.

“My Lord, can I undress you?” You murmured, locking eyes with him.

Loki didn’t reply, instead, he simply watched your naked body approach his clothed one as you slowly snaked your hands up his torso. You found each flap, each button, and slowly undid it all as his garments fell down in pieces on the bed.

You pulled his pants off his long legs, and his cock bounced up to greet you. With a gasp of joy, you pressed a soft kiss to his member and continued your kisses up the toned flesh of his chest until you got to his lips.

The action was intimate, like what lovers would do. And Loki let you touch him, admire him, without a word.

In the last bit of light of sunset, Loki’s skin glowed golden orange. He shone like the god he is.

“Beautiful.” You whispered in awe.

An arrogant smile curved along his face and he cradled a hand along the back of your head. He pressed a long, sensual kiss to your warm mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” He murmured the dirty words against your smiling lips.

Stalking over you like a predator hunts its prey, Loki climbed over your prone body, lining up his engorged cock with your weeping slit.

He watched you watch him as he slid in, inch by inch, your eyes watering as he forced his way into your cunt.

A self-satisfied smirk emerged on his face, knowing just how full he could make you feel.

Gently, he lowered his weight on top of you, pressing down so that his toned flesh covered your supple breasts and soft curves.

As he started to slowly thrust in and out of your tight core, Loki found both of your hands and brought them next to your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. Your palms were hot and sweaty, overwhelmed with the intimacy of his actions.

Summoning all the boldness you had inside of you, you dared your gaze to meet his and he was staring back at you with a mixture of lust and affection.

And also, possession.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Without warning, he pushed faster, his hips smacking into yours with a vengeance. You instinctively brought your knees up to allow him deeper access. The wet slap of his cock into your pussy was sinfully loud in the cavernous bedroom.

All manner of helpless yelps and whines came out of your throat, your hands squeezed his as he fucked you raw.

“You need to be fucked, hard and often, healer.” The way he said your title could have been synonymous with whore.

The intensity of his look was almost too much, daring you to look away, but you found that you couldn’t. You were entirely addicted to this man, stronger than any drug you could have created in the healing room.

By Odin, he was the only one for you.

You pressed your forehead to his as he continued to slam his cock deep inside of your womb.

“I’m yours, my Lord.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

“Loki.” An unreadable expression crossed his face as Loki pushed himself up. He pulled your legs to wrap around his hips as he knelt on the bed. Your pussy was still clenched around his cock and you took the opportunity to suck in a few deep breaths.

“Wha-what?” You panted, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Say my name. Say that you belong to me.” Loki commanded. He rose up, pulling his shoulders back, looking every bit like the prince, the god that he is. His dark hair was pushed back on his forehead, sleek with sweat, framing his sharp features like a crown.

Automatically obedient, the declaration left your lips with sincerity and conviction.

“I belong to you, Loki.”

With a laugh of triumph, Loki grabbed the pliant flesh of your hips and slammed your body against his own. He railed your core with his cock, hitting deeper than you ever thought possible. Your ass slid along his strong thighs, the friction smarting your skin that was still tender from his earlier disciplining.

“Loki—it’s too much!” You cried out, losing yourself in pleasure.

“Cum for me, my sweet girl. Worship me with your cunt!” Loki growled out, thrusting impossibly harder, impossibly faster.

The sensation built and built, his name spilled out of your mouth in an endless stream of moans, until suddenly the pleasure peaked.

In that instance, time stopped. Your lips parted in a silent scream, and you saw him.

Veins bulged in his forearm as he pulled you flush against his hips. Nose scrunched up in effort as he fucked you deeply. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, wild in the throes of ecstasy.

Loki was your god.

And he was glorious.

Finally the air in your lungs released in a long-awaited scream and the orgasm crashed down. Nerve endings lit on fire, and your muscles jerked and spasmed underneath his strong grip. In the midst of your pleasure, you heard a faraway groan from your prince, and you could feel jets of hot cum coat the inside of your womb. He was marking you, claiming you as his.

You knew you would be his forever.

A few seconds later, Loki unceremoniously pulled out of your well-used pussy, and collapsed beside you, chest heaving with exertion.

Lying with one arm underneath his head, he lazily stroked your back as you curled up on his naked chest. Finally, the effect from the love potion had dissipated, leaving you with sweet relief.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence, but your mind started to swirl with insecure thoughts. You steeled your nerves to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind.

“Why did you never use me?”

“What do you mean, my dear?”

“Why did you never take a lover? Or ask for a healer’s services? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, that you’re—“ Your mouth shut with an audible clack of your teeth.

Your clumsy tongue always got ahead of yourself. Worried you may have crossed a line, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

But Loki answered honestly.

“You’re not my first. But I have long since known that I can’t fuck and forget like my ape of a brother.” He grimaces, and breathes in deeply before saying more.

“When I have sex, I need to own them. Possess them. I'm sure you noticed my dominant streak, my darling.”

“Then why’d you let me come in tonight? Why take the risk?” You wondered aloud.

“I’ve been watching you, my sweet little healer.”

You tensed automatically in surprise. Since when? What did he see? Why did he notice you?

Loki’s gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts as he confessed more.

“If you hadn’t approached me tonight, I would have snatched you from the healing room and made you mine before long.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep within his chest as you lay on his skin.

The revelation sank in slowly until finally, Loki pulled you up until your face was level with his.

“You just beat me to it, you naughty girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and your furrowed brow automatically relaxed.

“Tell me again. Will you belong to me, and only me?” He searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any trace of a lie.

You were certain that he would find none.

“Yes, Loki. I belong to you.”

…

#marvel #loki #loki laufeyson #Loki x reader #Loki laufeyson x reader #Thor #Thor 1 #Loki fic #Loki smut #Loki fanfic #marvel fic #marvel smut

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sareeen · 9 months ago

Text

Unknown Touches for a Lady

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N never thought she would be married to the spymaster of the Night Court. However, they are undoubtedly married and nothing will save her from the night ahead of her.

Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, lovely azriel

Here –> Part 2 Masterlist

A/N: The idea that popped into my head today and I didn't get up until I wrote it. :)

English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistake.

Y/N felt the bed sink in beside her and someone, her husband, fold up the edge of the blanket and slip quietly under the duvet.

Y/N felt as if she would suffocate with fear.

Two hours ago, they had gone through the ceremony where she was forced to marry the spymaster of the Night Court in a luxurious setting.

For a purpose, her father said as he adjusted her veil.

It was nothing more than a means to make a deal for the benefit of the Court of Nightmares. More food, more power in exchange for soldiers and a girl.

In fact, her family had eagerly offered her to the High Lord as a prospective bride, and as she was educated and intelligent enough to be chosen over the other women in the Court of Nightmares.

For a long time Y/N did not know to whom she was to be married. She had been raised from a very young age to believe that she was destined to be a wife and mother, but she never thought that it would be him.

But now she was given a chance. A chance to leave that damn evil place and be away from her family.

Today, for the first time in her life, she could see the stars and feel the gentle touch of the breeze on her skin, bringing tears to her eyes. If she was lucky, perhaps her husband would never send her back there. If she obeyed him – though the very thought made her feel sick. All her existence had consisted of nothing but submitting to others. She would have liked to have ruled over herself, but it would always be a dream, now that she was married.

The shadowsinger moved beside her, causing every cell in Y/N to warn her to run.

Well, it's happening, she thought despondently to herself and closed her eyes.

She knew exactly what her duty was. What must happen.

For this marriage to be legitimate, Y/N must give in to her husband and willingly spread her legs.

“I know you don't want to,” he said softly behind her back before gently placing his hand on her hip. Y/N jumped at the sudden touch. “But we have a duty, Y/N.”

She shuddered as the spymaster spoke her name out of his mouth. His voice was soft, but still a warning tone mixed into the words. She had no doubt that he was not often contradicted and may the Great Mother have mercy on whoever tried.

Y/N licked her lips and let out a shaky sigh, then nodded. Trembling, she turned onto her back and it took her a few seconds to gather her courage and look at her husband.

Azriel watched her silently, his figure illuminated by the faint moonlight that filtered through the gaps in the drawn curtains. Y/N could see his broad shoulder, the swelling muscles in his arm, and even the dark outline of his tattoo in the dim light.

Y/N could feel the golden brown eyes watching her warily as they scrutinized her. She was surprised to find that the shadowsinger did not return her stare for a moment and kept his gaze on her face the whole time. Perhaps he was waiting for her to make a move.

Maybe he was waiting for her to initiate.

Y/N's mouth went dry at the thought that he might have wanted her to. However, she had been raised to do what others wanted, so with all her presence of mind she slowly touched her palm to Azriel's chest. She felt warm, silky skin and felt a steady heartbeat beneath her hand as she slid it a little further away. She heard the Illyrian take a deep breath and the scarred finger she had put the gold ring on a few hours ago gently stroked the cool back of her hand.

Y/N was so startled for a moment that she forgot to breathe. Never had she imagined that the dreaded shadowsinger could be so gentle as he was now.

Perhaps behind the scars and shadows there was not a monster, but a feeling being.

A tiny germ of hope began to blossom in Y/N and she continued to caress him a little more boldly. Her hand glided down Azriel's muscular arm and Y/N was startled to find herself enjoying it.

The way the steely muscles tighten under her touch, the heat radiating from his body as if beaming up at her, inviting her to slide closer and enjoy it.

Azriel, as if hearing her thoughts, took hold of her waist and gently pulled her towards him until their chests touched.

Y/N's nightgown was so thin that the spymaster could easily feel that her nipples were hard and straining against his chest.

Azriel groaned, barely audible, and something inside Y/N stirred at the sound.

Confused, she felt wetness between her legs and some primal longing that she had never experienced before took her. She almost longed for him to return her touch. To have him caress her heated skin. It was so unfamiliar to her, and yet it was as if her body knew how to press herself against him.

Unexpectedly, she felt the hardness against her belly that made her go rigid, but Azriel just squeezed the soft flesh of her hip and didn't let her move away.

“No,” he whispered and buried his face in her hair, his thumb tracing soothing circles around her waist. “Don't be frightened. This is what happens when –“

“I'm not so clueless that I don't know what it is,” Y/N said, blushing. She thanked the Gods for the darkness. “The women explained everything to me before the wedding anyway. That this is what it takes to conceive a marriage and it's the natural reaction of every man when he touches a woman in a loose fitting nightgown.”

Azriel remained silent, but eventually he involuntarily chuckled to himself. Y/N smiled vaguely, but the man's shaking chest and voice filled her with a certain joy. It reassured her.

“Not all men,” Azriel said, wrapping a lock of her hair around his finger and tugging it gently. “But you're certainly beautiful and you're wearing very little nightgown.”

“I didn't choose it” Y/N muttered grumpily as she lowered her head to look at the said piece. It was a little translucent and she felt a twinge of anxiety when she first saw that she would have to wear it tonight.

“I thought so,” he muttered. “If it's any comfort I think it looks good on you and I like it very much.”

She had heard rumors of the shadowsinger that he hardly spoke, but they were now lying here and he was obviously talkative.

Y/N finally understood that this was Azriel's way of distracting her and calming the emotions that were raging inside her.

Her fear of the unknown and to make her comfortable with the situation. No one had ever done anything like that for her, not even her mother.

She swallowed hard and, not giving herself time to drift away from the thought, leaned into him and pressed her lips to his. She didn't know how to do this, since tonight she was getting the first kiss of her life from Azriel at the altar in front of hundreds of guests. It was more like a little peck than a kiss.

She understood this when Azriel recovered from his momentary shock and kissed her back. This was different.

The spymaster's hand slid into her hair, his fingers tangled in her ringlets as he gently tilted her head into position and everything just got better.

The angle of the kiss changed, deepened much more and something like an excited tremor began in Y/N's belly. The scent of Azriel filled her senses, the cool night mist and cedar balming her soul, her nails involuntarily digging into Azriel's biceps and it was as if he lost all restraint at that small movement.

He rolled Y/N onto her back, then towered over her and kissed her fiercely. His tongue stroked along her lower lip as if asking for admission and she hesitantly opened it and Azriel's tongue immediately made its way to hers. Y/N let her husband guide her and she was almost giddy with pleasure.

She enjoyed the way Azriel's tongue glided over hers, the weight of him pressing her almost uncomfortably into the mattress and the hot hardness between her legs.

The shadowsinger's lips moved to her chin, and Y/N gasped for air as he moved lower and lower, finding a spot in the hollow between her shoulder and neck that made her hip snap away from the bed and involuntarily rub against Azriel.

Heat flooded her face, but she was unable to pull away from him and with long, sensual strokes she wanted more, which he acknowledged with soft moans.

Strong hands now gripped her thighs and Azriel moved lower, then bucked his hips and pushed against her. His pants and Y/N's underwear blocked them, but Azriel touched a space between her legs and moved as she imagined he would when he will be inside her.

She never thought it would be like this. This overwhelming feeling of his body moving over her, which he'd then elicited from her. Sighs erupted from deep within her body and Azriel kissed her as if to absorb the sounds she was making.

“That's it” Azriel gasped as Y/N arched and their hips met. “Just like that, my beauty.”

She groaned at the endearment and watched the wings spread wide on Azriel's back with a glazed look.

The membrane made the room even darker as it blocked out what little light had crept into the room. She wanted to feel the feel of it under her fingers.

“You can touch them,” he whispered, his breathing labored by Y/N's ear. “But only if I can touch you.”

“But you already do” she gasped, a thin layer of sweat beading on her forehead.

Azriel then let go of her thighs and slid between them, then reached down to her panties and pressed the outer curve of his hand to the spot where Y/N's body throbbed and almost burned. Gasping for air, panting, she made sounds that she should have been ashamed of, but her mind was in a fog and she could not contain herself. She would be ashamed later, but for now she could only cling to Azriel's strong shoulder.

“Here, Y/N” Azriel chuckled. “This is where I want to touch you.”

Y/N bit her lip at her husband's lustfuled words and nodded.

“There –“ her throat was tight, she could hardly get the words out. “It's good there.”

“Is it?”

“Yes” she cried softly.

His hand had pulled her underwear aside and was now touching her bare skin, causing Y/N's head to bob to the side and she clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle her voice.

However, Azriel stopped her hard and gave a disgruntled squeak.

“No, Y/N,” he muttered darkly. “I want to hear you.”

His wings fluttered, drawing her attention, and she stretched out her arm. When she touched the taut, silky membrane, Azriel shuddered and rubbed her harder between her legs.

Y/N loved what she was eliciting from her husband, so she repeated the motion and this time touched her fingernail to it a little, letting it gently scratch the inside of the wing.

“Cauldron” Azriel almost gritted his teeth in pleasure and buried his face in her neck. “You drive me crazy.”

Y/N felt the same way. His hand between her legs, his lip now brushing tiny kisses on her neck. It was killing her and she felt like a bowstring being stretched, ready to snap at any moment. Something was building inside her, the warmth in the pit of her belly seemed to be tightening and it was almost unbearable.

Then Azriel slipped a finger into the wetness between her legs and she gasped for air. It was a stinging sensation, but as he curled his finger he hit a good spot in her and she began to moan.

When Azriel gently pulled it out and then slipped back in, she heard that wet squeaking sound and it made her even more excited.

She wanted to touch him too. So much so that she had the courage to slip her hand into Azriel's pants and touch his hardness.

“Y/N” Azriel gasped as he pulled away from the delicate skin of her neck and peered down at her in the darkness.

“Teach me, please” she whispered with heavy lids. “How to touch you so that you feel as I feel now.”

Azriel closed his eyes and laughed softly.

“I already feel like that” he panted, but he helped Y/N and showed her how to take him in her grip. How tightly to squeeze and when he moved his hip to move into her hand, Y/N felt herself die instantly in admiration.

“Honey” Azriel sighed. “I need to be inside you.”

She knew what he meant.

She was a little afraid, because the women had said it would hurt terribly. However, what they had just done with Azriel had never been told that she would feel like this, so she hoped the sex would be different. Just as fantastic as this.

She opened her legs wider, giving him permission to make her his. Azriel immediately pulled her underwear off her and his own pants, then took her in his arms.

He adjusted himself between her legs but stopped and the golden brown eyes almost burned her face.

“This might hurt a little” he whispered to her and stroked her cheek affectionately. “But I'll try to do it as slowly and gently as possible.”

“It's fine, Azriel” she wrapped an arm around his shoulder and that's when she felt him shiver slightly too. Well, he was nervous too. “I'm used to the pain.”

Azriel froze, then sank down on top of her, so that their naked bodies were touching.

“From now on, no one will ever hurt you again,” he growled, his voice hard and purposeful.

Then he entered her, very slowly and Y/N gasped. She tensed in pain and whimpered and Azriel took her head in both hands and kissed her.

Finally when she thought she would pass out, she felt she couldn't take it. They lay there for a long time, but Azriel pushed forward and forward and then stopped.

Y/N sighed shakily and when her pain turned into a dull throbbing, he moved.

It was awfully strange the way Azriel moved inside her. It was unfamiliar, but after a while it got better and she gasped and clung to Azriel as if he would hold her and not let her fall over the precipice.

Emboldened, he thrust his hips faster and harder toward her and pulled her toward him with one hand, making them both gasp for air.

“Gods” Y/N broke from Azriel's lips and she groaned. Somehow the man moved in a different way and it drove her mad. “There!”

As if born to pleasure his wife, he repeated the motion again and his hand slid to her breast. He took one of her nipples between his fingers, then leaned in and licked it, whereupon Y/N clamped herself around her husband's member and moaned.

“Come for me, honey.”

His finger slid to her clit and rubbed it, which triggered something inside her.

Lights exploded behind her eyelids, her insides clenched and an animalistic moan tore from her. The heat was overwhelming her and she was sure it was over, she would die here and now, but Gods - if it is death she will be glad to go with it.

Azriel's hips slammed hard against her and she felt something warm flood over her and he shuddered. She wrapped her arms around him as if to protect him and their sweaty foreheads touched as they panted with the sensations that overwhelmed them.

Y/N opened her eyes and studied Azriel's face in the dim light. His handsome face was now relaxed and a small smile lurked at the corner of his mouth, his long black lashes casting shadows across his cheek. Her breath caught as she opened his eyes and his golden brown gaze locked on her.

There was an air of kindness and contentment that was evident in the way his hand stroked gently down her side.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly and pulled out of her, careful not to hurt her. The sheet was a little bloody, but neither of them cared.

“Yes,” Y/N whispered and turned to face him as he lay down next to her. Azriel covered them with the blanket and took her hand. “It didn't hurt that much.”

He smiled and kissed her hand.

“It won't after this.”

“Will it be after this?” asked Y/N shyly but hopefully.

“There will be a lot after this.”

Y/N almost burst with joy. Maybe this marriage won't be so bad after all.

#acotar #acomaf #a court of thrones and roses #azriel x reader #acowar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x you

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novaursa · 2 months ago

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Web of Gold (royal wedding)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Paring: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen (+Aemond Targaryen?)

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: aegon is jealous

- Next part: honeymoon

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995 @thisbiann @whiteoakoak

- A/N: The last part was skipping from present to past. I forgot to mention that. It has been fixed now.

The grand hall of the Red Keep has never looked so splendid. Golden tapestries hang from the walls, catching the light from the myriad of candles that bathe the room in a warm, shimmering glow. The floors are strewn with rich red and gold carpets, their colors a perfect match for the union taking place today—a union that has the blood of the dragon and the wealth of the lion entwined.

Your wedding to King Aegon II is nothing short of a spectacle. All of the nobility of Westeros is in attendance, their finery dazzling, but none more so than the families of the bride and groom. The Hightowers and the Lannisters are well represented, their seats in the front rows filled with dignified faces that watch every movement with keen interest.

At the head of it all stands Aegon, his usually unruly silver hair smoothed back for the occasion, though he still carries that familiar smirk as if he's already thinking about the revelry that will follow. He’s dressed in a regal black and red ensemble that reflects his Targaryen heritage, but with touches of gold embroidery—no doubt a nod to your Lannister lineage. As you approach down the aisle, his eyes are fixed solely on you, and his smirk softens into something more genuine, more admiring.

You, in turn, glide down the aisle with all the grace expected of a Lannister bride. Your gown is a masterpiece, shimmering gold and crimson silk, with intricate embroidery that mimics the flames of dragons and the roaring lions of your house. The entire court seems to hold its breath as you make your way toward Aegon, your steps light and confident, a smile playing at your lips.

Behind you, your uncles, the infamous Lannister twins, Tyland and Jason, follow with their usual contrasting expressions. Tyland, ever the composed and political one, watches the proceedings with an air of satisfaction, knowing how well this match bodes for the Lannister name. Jason, on the other hand, appears more relaxed, casting admiring glances around the hall and clearly enjoying the pomp and grandeur of it all. He leans over to Tyland at one point, whispering something, likely a comment on the opulence of the Red Keep, which Tyland responds to with a curt nod, his face impassive.

At the altar, Dowager Queen Alicent stands beside Otto Hightower, her father, both of them watching the ceremony with varying degrees of restraint. Alicent’s expression is one of controlled politeness, though there’s a tightness around her eyes that betrays her discomfort. She still hasn’t entirely warmed to the idea of her beloved son marrying someone who so effortlessly draws his attention away from her. Otto, however, seems entirely pleased, his hands folded neatly in front of him, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if mentally counting the alliances being forged today.

Aemond stands beside his brother, his face a mask of impassivity, though you know him well enough by now to catch the faint flicker of amusement in his eye. No doubt he finds the spectacle of Aegon getting married as something of an ironic twist, considering how hard Aegon fought to maintain his so-called "freedom." Aemond’s hand rests lightly on the hilt of his sword, as always, a silent reminder of his ever-watchful nature.

Helaena is there too, her dreamy expression focused on something far beyond the festivities, though she smiles softly when you pass her by. She’s dressed in a lovely gown of pale blue, her hair adorned with delicate silver ornaments shaped like butterflies. She murmurs something to herself, perhaps a quiet blessing for your future, though it’s impossible to tell for sure.

As you finally reach Aegon’s side, the High Septon Eustace begins the ceremonial words, his voice echoing through the hall. You can feel the eyes of the court on you, but your focus remains on Aegon, who is staring at you with a look that’s equal parts admiration and barely restrained mischief. His hand, warm and steady, slips into yours as you both face the High Septon, the weight of the crown on your head a constant reminder of the power this union represents.

“Do you, Aegon Targaryen, take Y/N of House Lannister to be your lawful wife, to honor and protect, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” the High Septon intones.

Aegon’s grin spreads wide across his face, a flash of amusement dancing in his eyes. “I do,” he says, his voice rich with confidence, though there’s a playful edge to it that makes it clear he’s already thinking of what comes after the ceremony.

“And do you, Y/N of House Lannister, take Aegon Targaryen to be your lawful husband, to honor and stand beside, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

You meet Aegon’s gaze, the room around you momentarily fading as you reply, “I do.”

The High Septon raises his hands in blessing, proclaiming you husband and wife, and the hall erupts in applause. Aegon, ever the dramatic, doesn’t wait for the formal conclusion before leaning in to kiss you, his hands cupping your face as if you’re the only person in the room. The kiss is bold, full of the reckless passion Aegon is known for, and the court watches with varying degrees of approval and amusement.

Tyland and Jason exchange glances, Jason stifling a chuckle while Tyland remains impassive, though his eyes gleam with pride. They know the political weight of this match—House Lannister is now further entwined with the crown, and their power has only grown.

Alicent, however, watches the display with barely concealed annoyance, her lips pressed into a tight smile. She claps politely, though there’s a stiffness to her movements, a reminder that, in her mind, no one could ever truly be good enough for her precious son. Otto, on the other hand, seems entirely pleased, his eyes flicking toward Alicent as if to gauge her reaction, though he remains composed.

Aemond watches the kiss with a raised brow, a flicker of bemusement crossing his features. He shifts slightly, as though resisting the urge to roll his eye, though a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

The rest of the court stands, applauding as you and Aegon turn to face them, now husband and wife. You can feel the weight of expectation on your shoulders, but you stand tall, regal, with Aegon by your side. The cheers of the courtiers fill the hall, a cacophony of voices celebrating your union, and for a moment, it feels as though you and Aegon have already won over the entire kingdom.

As the feast begins, Jason Lannister raises his goblet in a loud toast. “To King Aegon and his golden bride! May their union bring strength to the realm!” His voice booms across the hall, earning cheers and nods of approval from the Lannisters in attendance.

Aegon, never one to miss an opportunity to revel in attention, raises his own goblet and smirks at you. “And may she forever spoil me with her affection, wine, and… other delights.”

The court erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but laugh too, casting a glance at Aemond, whose eye twitches in amusement, though he’s quick to hide it behind another sip of wine.

The night is long, filled with feasting, laughter, and the clinking of goblets as alliances are silently solidified with every toast. And as the evening draws on, you and Aegon bask in the glow of your new roles—King and Queen, dragon and lion, forever entwined in the history of Westeros.

The grand feast is in full swing. Laughter echoes off the vaulted ceilings of the Red Keep’s great hall, the clink of goblets and the shuffle of servants bringing more trays of roasted meats, fruits, and breads filling the space. At the high table, you sit next to Aegon, who is already well on his way to being pleasantly drunk. His cheeks are flushed, his laughter a little too loud, and every so often, he leans in to whisper something entirely inappropriate in your ear—something about what he intends to do later, no doubt—but you smile and nod, indulging him.

Across the table, Helaena sits quietly, her dreamy eyes fixed on the flickering candlelight as if it holds secrets only she can see. She picks absentmindedly at her plate, her fingers twirling a piece of bread like it's a delicate piece of embroidery. You catch her eye and smile warmly.

"Helaena," you say softly, leaning toward her, "are you enjoying the feast?"

She blinks, her gaze shifting to you as if coming back to the present from some distant dream. Her lips curve into a small, sweet smile. "It’s beautiful," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "But the butterflies… they’re dancing too close to the fire."

You pause, tilting your head, unsure whether she’s speaking in metaphors or if this is just one of Helaena’s usual cryptic musings. Either way, you smile back. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on the butterflies, then.”

She giggles softly, her fingers finally releasing the bread as she takes a sip from her goblet. There’s something endearing about Helaena, her quiet innocence standing in contrast to the rowdy festivities around her. You find her company refreshing—though you’re well aware that others find her eccentric nature unsettling.

As you pour another cup of wine for Aegon, who is now thoroughly engaged in a one-sided conversation with Ser Criston about something involving dragons (though Criston’s blank stare suggests he’s only pretending to listen), you feel a sharp gaze on you. Without even looking, you know it’s Alicent.

You glance up to find her watching you with that familiar tight-lipped expression of disapproval. Her hands are clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles have gone white. It’s clear she doesn’t appreciate the way you cater to Aegon’s whims, particularly when it involves filling his goblet over and over. But tonight, she says nothing, her lips pressed into a thin, sour line as she watches you with silent judgment.

You flash her a smile, sweet as honey, and deliberately pour Aegon’s cup a little fuller than necessary, making sure the wine sloshes right to the rim. He grins up at you with a sloppy, grateful smile, lifting his goblet with an exaggerated flourish.

“Ah, my perfect queen!” Aegon slurs, raising the cup in a toast that sends a bit of wine splashing over the side. “Always knows exactly what I need.”

You pat his hand and nod, biting back a laugh. “Yes, my love. Always.”

Alicent’s expression tightens even further, but she still says nothing, clearly choosing to hold her tongue rather than cause a scene at such a grand occasion. Her frustration, however, is palpable.

With Aegon now thoroughly distracted by his wine and the increasingly nonsensical conversation with Ser Criston, you take the opportunity to slip away for a moment. The noise of the feast dulls slightly as you move toward the quieter end of the hall, where Aemond stands, ever the watchful observer, his gaze scanning the room like a hawk searching for prey. He doesn’t sit—Aemond never seems to relax the way Aegon does. Instead, he stands with a goblet of wine in hand, his tall frame as rigid and poised as ever.

As you approach, he glances at you, his single eye cool but alert, that faint smirk already playing on his lips as if he knows exactly why you’ve come.

“Your husband looks quite… spirited this evening,” Aemond says, his voice low and smooth. His gaze flickers to where Aegon is now halfway through another story, clearly embellishing the details for the benefit of anyone still bothering to listen.

You chuckle, standing beside him, your fingers brushing the stem of your own goblet. “Yes, well, that’s to be expected, isn’t it? A wedding and an endless supply of wine—it’s a dangerous combination for Aegon.”

Aemond’s lips twitch with amusement. “Dangerous for him, perhaps. More tiresome for the rest of us.”

You raise your goblet slightly, giving him a sidelong glance. “I suppose you’re used to enduring such… tiresome things, aren’t you, Aemond?”

His eye narrows slightly, a knowing glint in it. “I endure what I must. Though some things…” He pauses, his gaze lingering on you for a fraction longer than necessary, “are more tolerable than others.”

You hum in response, your lips curving into a small, playful smile. “How kind of you to say. And here I thought you preferred your solitude over any company.”

Aemond sips his wine, his eye never leaving yours. “Solitude has its merits. But there are certain… exceptions.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air between you, subtle but unmistakable. You glance back toward Aegon, who is now attempting to stand, swaying slightly as he raises his goblet in yet another toast, clearly drunk beyond reason. The sight is both amusing and pitiful, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for your new husband. But at the same time, the pull of Aemond’s presence is undeniable, the tension between you two thickening with every passing second.

“And would I be one of those exceptions?” you ask softly, turning your attention back to Aemond. Your tone is light, teasing, but there’s a sharper edge beneath it.

Aemond’s smirk deepens, his gaze darkening as he lowers his goblet. He steps closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You already know the answer to that.”

Your heart quickens, but you keep your expression neutral, unwilling to give too much away. This dance between you and Aemond has been ongoing for some time—never spoken of directly, never acted upon, but always there, clawing just beneath the surface. And tonight, with Aegon too drunk to notice, the tension feels sharper than ever.

Before you can respond, Aegon’s voice cuts through the room, loud and slurred. “Y/N! Where are you, my queen? Come! We must… celebrate!”

You bite back a laugh, casting Aemond a glance that’s equal parts amused and exasperated. “Duty calls,” you say, stepping away with a sigh.

Aemond’s eye follows you as you move back toward Aegon, the weight of his gaze lingering on you like a silent promise.

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teamatsumu · 1 year ago

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At any given moment, i am thinking about Apex Alpha!Ushijima.

Not just alpha. But apex Alpha.

It’s pretty clear even from a distance that Ushijima is like no other alpha around him. Taller than any of his fellows, undoubtedly broader, he takes up space in a way the others fail to. His face is set in a perpetual blank look. Something in his expression screams ‘watch out’.

He also has an excruciating presence. When he enters a room, the scent of every other alpha pales in comparison. Even before he presented, Ushijima had an aura about him, so no one was surprised when he presented not only as an alpha, but an apex.

Shiratorizawa is proud to have an Apex in their ranks, considering how rare a breed they are. Ushijima is a star pupil, a star athlete. Shiratorizawa’s golden boy. The alphas revere him. They can’t even bring themselves to have a jealous streak when it comes to him. All that exists is envy. And the knowledge that they can never be him.

And the omegas. Oh lord. The omegas throw themselves at his feet. Often figuratively, and sometimes even literally. An apex alpha would be the ideal mate. The very pinnacle of the food chain. Any omega who he ended up with Ushijima would be the luckiest little thing on the planet. What a rare luck it would be, bagging an apex alpha as your mate?

Imagine how the school reels in surprise when Ushijima sets his sights on you.

You are, by no means, special. You are not a prime omega. Your scent, while undoubtedly omega, is light. It is not an omega scent that reels alphas in with how rich it is. Your stature isn’t particularly impressive for an omega either, though it isn’t bad. There is no way to describe it. You are just….. ordinary.

So you are confused as all hell when the king of alphas, an apex, presents you with a delicate bracelet one day. He had always been friendly with you, and you assumed it was just him being kind to the students of Shiratorizawa as part of his makeshift pack. But this, a thin, shiny chain with a single heart-shaped charm, made his intentions clear. This was a courting gift, there was no two ways about it.

You saw the apex alpha smile for the first time when you accepted his gift. And it solidified the fact that you accepted his advances.

Being courted by an apex alpha was also an interesting experience. Different to other alphas. His gifts were extremely personalised, stuff that he knew you needed or would be very useful. He was a man of few words, but his actions were glaring, they seemed to scream his intentions at you loud and clear. His aura and scent were so strong that there wasn’t even any need for him to scent you or your things. Five minutes in his presence meant that everyone would know where you had been for hours afterward. Despite being so physically huge, his touch was gentle and comforting. And slowly, you grew so attached to him that it hurt to be without.

Overtime, you realised that a lot of what ushijima did was not his status but rather just him. He was naturally so firm yet gentle. His gifts being so practical was just how his mind worked. Being a good person and a good leader was not because he was an apex, but because he was….. Ushijima Wakatoshi.

It was so easy to love him. And to choose him as your mate. He was truly the ideal. And every second of every day you were grateful that he had chosen you, for whatever reason, to be his omega.

Just the thought of Apex Alpha!Ushijima is so near and dear to me. If anyone can be an Apex, it’s him.

#💭 late night ruminating #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima fluff #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #alpha ushijima wakatoshi #omega reader #haikyuu omegaverse #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #apex alpha #haikyuu a/b/o

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jenicaclarisse · 5 months ago

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YUNO GRINBERRYALL

Dating the notorious Yuno!

summary: dating the vice captain of the Golden Dawn is an experience you don’t want to let go.

genre: fluff (obvi) had to get him on here. How can he be so pretty? fanfic + headcanons cause I spoil all of you

A/N: I’m still an active member of the BC fandom and I’m thinking of making this a series. Please send requests of characters you want me to do!

;not proofread (💨)

———

Yuno isn’t the type to actively seek relationships, mostly just the type of person to reply and talk to somebody when first approached. And or somebody paired him up for a mission. So taking an interest in something other than being the best of the flock is new territory.

Getting to know him is getting to know him entirely. Despite his detached nature, Yuno is actually very open to getting to know you. Already seeing you as a romantic interest despite his goals, ambitions and dreams.

When actively entering the courting stage, Yuno is very competitive. Striving to let you know that you are one of his priorities and doesn’t see this “courting” as a one time thing. Don’t even bother speaking with other guys, Yuno will let you know he is interested.

His behavior changes, his demeanor is different too. It gets to the point his squad notices his absence after being done with a mission and is somehow nowhere to be found.

Klaus and Mimosa are naturally curious. What was he doing? What was he thinking of? Or who?

It’s perfect timing he was back in town.

“Do you think Yuno’s been disappearing lately?” Mimosa asks, walking with Klaus in the hall. She looks up at Klaus who was comically adjusting his glasses and posture.

“Yuno is responsible! We don’t need to worry! I think we should mind our own business!” Klaus shouts as he looks back at Mimosa who clearly knows better.

“You’re curious too.”

“..I’m not.”

Klaus continues to deny but is inevitably shut down. Mimosa has seen through anyway as he adjusts his glasses again with a resounding cough.

“Where do you think he went?” Klaus nervously asks, both he and Mimosa hiding behind a wall. Yuno looks to be waiting for somebody as he decides to indulge himself in some bread.

“Do you think we should even be spying? He’s a good man I assure you. Do you honestly think he’s being suspicious? Why do you-“

“Shhh shush!”

Mimosa puts a finger on her lip, effectively shutting Klaus up as he grumbles.

They continue to wait until they heard a voice. A magic knight from another squad! A girl…

“Yuno!” You happily greet him as you hugged him. Yuno is quick to reciprocate, patting your head as you let go of him. Yuno is seen with a soft smile as well.

“WHat!” Klaus’ voice breaks.

“Shhhh!”

Mimosa is quick to shut him up, but this time she puts a hand on his mouth to shut him up. Maybe she should’ve done the spying with a different partner.

“…They’re on a date.” Klaus surmises. After an hour pf following You and Yuno around town, he had made his conclusions. Klaus and Mimosa obnoxiously disguised themselves with accessories to prevent being recognized. Seeing the both of you holding hands and buying street food was convincing enough.

“Obviously!” Mimosa replies, holding a pair of binoculars as she continues to zoom on the both of you.

“Ahhm” You feed Yuno a piece of your crepe as he leaned down to eat his share. He goes back to his position as he hummed.

“Yummy.” Yuno wipes a piece of whipped cream from the corner of his lip.

Klaus is appalled!

Pointing and looking back to both of you, then mimosa, and again.

“Will you please calm down?” Mimosa exasperates.

“I just find it hard to believe!” Klaus is practically hyperventilating. “I didn’t take Yuno for the type!”

“He’s allowed to date.” She deadpans.

Eventually, the date comes to an end as Yuno walks you back to your headquarters. Dutifully letting you ride on his broom for more convenient travel. And an excuse to hold him (wink wink).

Both You and Yuno get off the broom as you dust yourself off. Yuno is quick to ruffle your hair again. Affectionately smiling at you as you hugged him goodbye.

“I really enjoyed my time.” Yuno tells you as you nodded.

“Thank you. It was really fun.” You smiled back at him and by the lords. You are beautiful.

Yuno gives you forehead kiss goodbye as you waved back at him and begin to enter the headquarters’ gates. Gazing at his back for a few more moments to savor more time to look at him.

You definitely have a story to tell much later.

Yuno stops in his tracks as he deadpans.

“I know you’ve been stalking me.” Yuno lets out a heavy sigh. Somebody flinches from behind a wall as a guilty Mimosa and Klaus makes their appearance. Klaus is adjusts his glasses again and clears his throat.

“We congratulate you!” He obnoxiously bows, as Mimosa scratches the back of her neck in an embarrassed manner.

“Impossible.” Yuno sighs and walked past the both of them.

“We did not think this was your after duties!” Klaus is quick to follow as well as Mimosa who right behind.

“How could you never tell us! We are your friends! Squadmates!” Klaus goes on a full rant. “We are supposed to tell each other everything! Aren’t we closer now?”

Before he gets to shout any further, Yuno was already on his broom and leaving.

“What idiots.”

———

HEADCANONS

When push comes to shove, you were eventually revealed as Yuno’s significant other. Causing an uproar with the people he was close with, particularly a certain sylph and an obnoxious person.

Needless to say Belle wasn’t the most happy. Grabbing and pulling Yuno’s face and hair in protest about getting a girlfriend. Her obvious glares towards and sometimes even stomping her feet.

“This is fairrr!!!” Belle screeches. “I was supposed to be your only love! Not that witch!” She grabs a fistful of Yuno’s cheek as she complained and complained. Glaring at you once again.

“Who even are you?!” She accuses you with a finger as you chuckled. “This isn’t a laughing matter!”

Yuno pushes away with his hand eventually, causing her to quiet down as she settles on his shoulder. She still doesn’t like you, but is afraid of Yuno’s disapproval. So she keeps put. But the jealousy is bleeding.

Meanwhile, Asta is swearing up and down like crazed man as he confront Yuno as they come across each other again.

“You jerk! You weren’t supposed to beat me in that department!” Asta holds his head as he rolled around on the ground. Passerby’s whisper as he whined. A child throwing a tantrum? Yeah. Looks like it.

Yuno merely smirks triumphantly.

“You pretty jerk!” Asta exaggerates. Continuing to get up on Yuno’s face as Yuno smirks, lifting his head up when Asta moves closer. But his screams eventually reside.

“But I’ll be wizard king! I’ll definitely surpass you!” Asta declares.

“No way.” Yuno counters.

“I’ll definitely will!” Asta is dragged off by Noelle. “Do you hear me? I definitely will!!”

Noelle slaps him across the head.

Yuno is genuinely so sweet to you as well. You cannot even deny the fact that he puts in effort to understand you more than he does with others. He makes you feel seen and heard.

And if you are the tempestuous type, he’s definitely the cool that’s gonna make you see reason.

He mostly calms you down with a gust of wind to your face and or he playfully teases you by messing your hair up.

You guys indulge in little challenges! Who gets to the end of the bridge first, who can finish a mission the fastest, or who can unlock a new spell in your grimoire. Let’s be honest, you loss on most of these things.

But Yuno lets you win from time to time, purposely running slower or maybe even challenging you to more activities. But don’t be fooled, it’s just a five second head start before he overpowers you. (Haha)

What he loves about you is that he feels comfortable around you (which is canon btw. His type is somebody who makes him feel comfortable. Which I believe you influenced that)

The fact that he can also participate in a conversation with you and or listen actively to you is his favorite past time.

He loves picnic dates because he gets to view the sky (and you)

He thinks you are the most beautiful woman in clover.

Belle still does not like you (lol) but Yuno is starting to slowly change her mind. But as of now she merely tolerates you.

Yuno absolutely loves food dates. Believe it or not he actually likes to get some scrub himself. As per charmie’s constant food she often gives. But mostly to restore his mana.

He loves trying new things with you. The relationship is rarely boring.

Whenever he’s busy he communicates with you with the communication wand. Often in private as he wonders off from the rest of his team. He definitely uses that communication device to his advantage to keep himself updated with you.

He thinks his fangirls are a pain.

Charmie wasn’t too happy with the news. She fainted with heartbreak but eventually accepted the power of the fates.

In conclusion Yuno’s a great boyfriend

———

reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated!

#black clover #black clover x reader fluff #black clover fluff #yuno x reader #yuno grinberryall x reader #yuno grinberryall x reader fluff #yuno fluff #yuno black clover #black clover fandom #yuno x reader fluff #black clover x reader #dating headcanons #yuno grinberryall #yuno from black clover #yuno grinberryall from black clover

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 8 months ago

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IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT. ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! I said fuck it and did all three. <3 pairing: CHUBBY! Aegon ii Targaryen x WIFE! Reader prompt: After noticing Aegon sneaking out of your chambers at night, you fear he had taken up hold habits. Only they weren't the one's that you were expecting. word count: 1, 000+ words

For a fortnight now it has been going on. You knew this for a fact, you keep count in your head. It was like a schedule or routine of sorts. You’d wake up, reach out for Aegon’s side of the bed, only for it to be empty and cold. At first you had assumed that he had gone to the bathroom or outside onto the balcony for some fresh air. It was the most logical explanation.

Sometimes he was restless at night. Years of having a horrid sleep schedule, overindulging in wine that made him sick, and all of the secret trips to Flea Bottom in the cover of darkness made it hard for him to sleep. No matter how many times you two had tried to get him on a proper sleep schedule. It just never seemed to work. So this started to make you weary.

He hadn’t gone to brothels or Flea Bottom in two months now. He still drank Arbor red, but not as much as he used to before your marriage. He was getting better. Truly, and you adored how much he was willing to go just to show his devotion to you. But, there was a tiny voice. Just the smallest one in the back of your head that sounded a lot like the gossip in Court.

“You’re not enough. He’s finally lost that ‘Honeymoon High’ for you. He’s gone back to them, to the whores in Flea Bottom. To the taverns and bottles of strongwine.” It whispered.

But, tonight. Tonight, you were going to figure it out. Even if it leads to an answer that you did not like. Why was your husband leaving your bed at night? Where was he going? What was he doing?

And could you get Aemond’s help in getting rid of Aegon’s body should it come down to it?

Narrowing your eyes softly as Aegon walks down the corridor, the paranoid voice in the back of your head whispers into your ear, telling you he was going to see some mistress. He did not change nor look like he was leaving the Red Keep, still dressed in his night clothes and barefoot. So why else was he leaving your chambers? Clearly there was something or someone more important than you. This was not a mix of jealousy! Not in the slightest! No. No. Well, maybe a little.

Waiting until he was far enough away, you slowly tip-toed after him, a thin robe wrapped around you to hide your chemise. You would get answers. One way or another. Furrowing your brows in confusion as he turns left to the where the kitchen’s are, you follow, confused. Okay, mayhaps you were being a tad dramatic. But, still, why was he going to the kitchens?

“Mayhaps he is visiting that pretty new servant girl, the one from the Reach. With her pretty golden hair and disgustingly pretty face that looked like one from a painting.” The voice in your head whispers.

Walking down the steps to the kitchen, you stop at the doorway, instantly flushing a bright pink as embarrassment fills you. Instead of finding Aegon embracing some girl. He was embracing a pastry and chalice of wine. Letting out a soft laugh of disbelief, you wish the ground would swallow you whole and never spit you out.

He wasn’t cheating. He was gorging on food and wine. You truly were a fool to let stupid courtly gossip influence your mind. Hearing the sound of your shocked laughter, Aegon turns to look at you, eyes wide and full of horror. Shaking your head softly, his cheeks were stuffed full with the pastry he had just inhaled like air, the sugary custard smeared on his lips.

“It is not what it looks like.” He blurts out, looking like a spooked animal.

“Oh?” You raise a brow, “So, you're gorging yourself on sweets, right now? This is all a dream of mine?”

He pauses for a good second, almost as if he was contemplating on what to say next.

“Yes..?” He asks, unsure.

“I…I do not know whether to scold you, laugh at the ridiculousness of this, or go back to bed.” You breathe out, pinching the tip of your nose.

“Can I get a kiss if you are going back to bed?” He asks, innocently.

Oh, sweet seven hells. He was the most lovable and irritating man you had ever met.

Struggling to hold any grudge against him for his sneaking around, you walk over to him, shaking your head with a chuckle of disbelief and amusement. The both of you probably looked like fools. You all disheveled and dressed only in a chemise and robe. Him, chubby cheeks smeared with custard, dressed in a tunic and loose pants. It was all so stupid.

“I love you..?” He mumbles unsure.

“I love you too, Aegon. I..I just..” You let out a chuckle of disbelief.

“What? Tis’ not anything bad, just eating a few sweets.” He argues innocently.

“For a fortnight now, you’ve snuck out of our bed, making my mind spiral to the worse.” You point to the plate in front of him, “For this?”

“Yes.” He nods, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand.

Standing in front of him with a soft smile, you tenderly clean the last of the custard on the corner of his lips with your thumb. A tab bit grateful that it was only just his sweet tooth that had kept leading him away from your bed than some other woman. You didn’t know what you would do if it had been that. Staring back at you with a confused look on his face, he doesn’t pull back from the affection, leaning into your touch. A mix of confusion and a lovesick glimmer in his eyes.

“What? Did I truly worry you?” He asks, “Tis’ just sweets.”

“A bit. But, the way you snuck out. Tis’ just, well, you..” You stop yourself, not daring to mention his past out loud.

Shit. Shit. Shit. That was a bad idea. Why did you have to say that?

“I know what you're referring to. I..I have just found myself trading in old habits for something more..” He rambles on, “Pleasant.”

“I rather you tell me of this, than keep it a secret.”

“I did not wish to wake you.” He whispers, “Tis’ shameful to have awakened you and tell you that I wish to eat at such an hour.”

Stroking his chin with your thumb, you pull away from him for a moment, turning to the plate of sugary tarts and custard fill rolls. Hearing him grumble as you pull away, you playfully bump your hip against your own, cracking a smile at him. Sitting down on one of the counters, he scoots closer to you, his chubby body practically engulfing you as soon as you are in arm’s reach.

“Now, what have you been eating, hm? Tell me all of it.” You tease, picking up a tart from the plate.

----

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

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jk97 · 7 months ago

Text

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 doesn’t 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 drink 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’s 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

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milkbobatyun · 2 months ago

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dark sunrise

pairing: yandere!sunday x reader

genre: angstober, events, yandere

summary: the sun rises again, but are you still who you are?

word count: 746

C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : yandere behaviour, manipulation, fear, stockholm syndrome

a/n: my attempt at writing about stockholm syndrome. if you or someone you know has experienced or is experiencing this, please do seek the right professional help. i will make it clear that IN NO WAY am i romanticising this, just thought it would fit in well with the scenario.

the golden sun’s warm rays smiled upon your face through the glass, refracting rays of rainbows across the room.

the breeze blew in from the open windows, its cool fingers twisting through your hair, dancing carelessly through the curtains of your bedposts.

every day, you wished you could be as free as the wind, blowing along without a care in the world. yet here you were, entrapped on the bed, the fracture in your ankle anchoring you down, reliant on sunday to meet your daily needs.

need water? simply a word and he would have it by your side, feeding it to you sip by sip. you didn’t need to lift a finger. wanted some comfort food? sunday was already ordering the maids to inform the chef. he knew you so well, he had everything arranged before you even opened your mouth.

sunday was trying to curry your favour and manipulate you. sunday was understanding of you, he knew you like the palm of his hand.

like a bird courting its mate, sunday brought you many little gifts and trinkets. a shiny necklace today, a multifaceted jewel the next.

it amused you to see his wings flap up with excitement and anticipation as he watched your every little reaction. somehow, in the shimmering light of sun that haloed his figure, he seemed more like an angel sent from above than a devil of your nightmares. perhaps sunday wasn’t truly evil, just misunderstood.

sunday’s comforting smile and hold warmed your heart, making it flutter in your chest. but for an instant, you caught something more twisted behind his eyes, something that made your blood run cold.

wait. something wasn’t right. that isn’t true, sunday was keeping you away from your loved ones. your heart was warmed by his thoughtful gifts, but underneath, something ominous gnawed at your consciousness. a faint whisper echoed in your mind: you need to escape. without a second thought, you squashed the vexing voice, casting it to the back of your mind

sunday was evil sunday was your god, your saviour.

in a state of boredom, when your injuries allowed you, you began to explore through your bedroom, shuffling through drawers and reading your old diaries.

you were scandalised to find a passage you had written in your earlier days, the words squiggling and shaking across the page like worms,.

someone please come and save me soon. i’m scared. my arm still hurts from yesterday when he twisted it because i didn’t follow his instructions, my cheek still swollen from when he slapped me for talking to a bystander. i’m struggling to conceal the bruises on my neck from—

the words on the page merge into one large ink blot that soaks into the page. fear and anxiety had rendered your writing useless, your clumsiness spilling over onto the page in the form of black ink.

you were horrified by what you had written early in your days of captivity misunderstood days, when you were still learning to be obedient. ripping out the page, shame flushed through you.

how dare you think such thoughts? wishing to be free? rebellious. sunday was doing these things for your own good. he cared for you.

bringing the page up to the candle, you watched the paper wither and smoulder away, hiding the evidence of your criminal thoughts.

the moon shone its milky light into the room, watching over you as you slept peacefully, dreaming of a warm spring where you sat under the shade of a tree, surrounded by blooming flowers, cradled in sunday’s warmth.

sunday was a wolf in a sheep’s clothing. sunday is misunderstood, that’s how he expresses his love for me.

the crimson sun rose, its scarlet light spilling across the manor that held you captive kept you safe from the dangerous world, like an ocean of blood. you stared mindlessly out the window, forehead leaning on the cool glass.

you knew it was all wrong, upside down and back to front. the gifts, the isolation, yet every time that thought came close to bursting from its cage, you quashed down the rebellious thoughts of leaving. sunday’s gentle touch kept you in the palm of his hand, a prisoner in a golden cage. how could you doubt, even for a minute, that sunday was causing you harm? sunday was dangerous, you needed to leave as soon as possible. sunday understands and cares for me more than anyone else. sunday was warm, like home.

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #yandere hsr x reader #sunday x reader #yandere sunday x reader #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere #yandere sunday #hsr sunday x reader #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere character #yandere character x reader #angstober #angst

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teaboot · 4 days ago

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do you think i'll ever get to a place in my life where i'm actually a good person and i don't keep getting bombarded with people telling me all the ways i'm doing things wrong. will i ever stop feeling like i'm faking being good and i'm actually a despicable person deep down inside like there's something rotten and irremovable in the very core of me. i feel sick

As a recovering self-hater I have a few things that have been helping

Truly shitty people are typically, in my experience, not chronically preoccupied with anxieties that they need to be better. It seems to be the 100% rock-solid certainty that everything you ever do is selfless that you need to watch out for.

Motive only matters in court. If you donate 30 hours a week to charity so you can tell yourself you're a good person or you donate that same time because you genuinely enjoy helping people, that's still 30 hours, imo. At that point the argument is more philosophical than anything. The help is still happening.

Nobody can read your mind. You can be the bitterest, cattiest, most judgemental and mean-spirited motherfucker alive, but as long as you don't let your feelings hurt others, you're golden. In fact, I personally think you should get extra credit for effort. Swimming upriver ain't easy

None of us are selfless by nature. That's okay. We all crave attention, and validation, and comfort, and reward. That self-interest is a survival skill. It's not going anywhere and I don't think it should. The key is moderation, self control, and consideration for others.

The loudest voice in your head probably isn't yours. Survivors of all kinds of abuse- and all abuse is psychological to varying extremes- often keep their critic's narrative in their head. That voice that says you're awful- is that something you'd say to someone else? No? Then try to figure out who said it to you. They were probably an asshole. The voice that answers it it probably your own. Listen to that one

No, you will not feel like this forever. It's a pain in the ass, but dedicating time and thought into ignoring that inner critic and elevating your positive impulses is effective.

Some things I've done myself that seem to help:

Do some research on cognitive behavioral therapy and cognitive reprogramming. These are easier to exercise with a therapist but once you figure out the steps to follow you can do them on your own, too.

When you do something good, write it down for yourself. Keep a dated journal, either on paper or in your phone. When you find yourself in a pit of self-loathing, you can go back and remind yourself of all the good you've done. If this is hard, try listing 3 good things you did at the end of each day. Anything from picking up a scrap of litter to running a food drive.

Long post, but really, the best thing I can say is this:

Aything that takes effort is worth celebrating, even if that effort is minimal or that task is considered small.

At the end of the day, "bare minimum" isn't working a full-time job and eating three meals a day, cleaning up after yourself and doing it with a smile- bare minimum is nothing. Bare minimum is laying on the floor motionless for 24 hours and filter-feeding like a sea sponge. And if even that's difficult for you, then it's not your bare minimum, is it?

There's a lot of cruel, inconsiderate, uncaring people in the world, only out for themselves at the expense of others, and even if you think you're one of them, giving a shit about doing better still puts you a mile ahead of most.

Try not to worry too terribly. If you're thinking about it, you're probably doing fine👍

#Teaboot #We working on it

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randxmthxughts · 2 years ago

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Be Mine - Neteyam x Metkayina ! reader (fake dating)

summary: the one, where neteyam pretends to court the reader to avoid all of the nagging from his parents and a group of admirers. of course, it doesn’t take long for her to fall for him too

warnings: none really, pure fluff, fake dating trope, jealousy, loak x tsireya canon, events take place five years after the battle between the metkayina and the sky people, so aged up characters

wc: >12k

a/n: now that i finished writing this, i realized that i wrote an avatar version of bridgerton, lol </3 if you enjoy this, i love getting compliments and reblogs

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Everybody knew about Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, ever since his family first stepped into your village. His blue skin, golden eyes, and the strange tail, were easily the talk of almost every conversation among your peers. Yet, despite the obvious physical differences, there was always something about him that fascinated you, lured you in.

Many things changed after the Battle at the Three Brothers. With the help of your soul sisters and brothers Tulkuns, and joined by the great Toruk Makto, your Olo’yektan had an upper hand and a decisive victory over the sky people. It was a victory to be passed down in stories to your future generations and to be celebrated gloriously among the clan. This year was marking its fifth anniversary, with a big celebration that would last the whole night.

Since that battle, Neteyam has truly transformed into a man, earning approving and respectful looks from all around him. His forest upbringing never held Neteyam back from growing into his place among the Metkayina: his once slim shoulders broadened, matching the most skillful divers, height increased, and his muscles started showing without even flexing. In addition to his looks, his physical appearance never betrayed his personality. It seemed like Neteyam had the purest, kindest heart amongst all, always rushing to help the villagers with their chores, big and small; whether it meant fixing up a canoe, carrying baskets of food, or sometimes even babysitting, that is if he had time. His father was reluctant to stop the training with his sons, just in case of another attack from the sky people, so Neteyam rarely had any time for himself.

Guys wanted to be his friends, while the girls were fawning over him, hoping to become his mate. It was no secret that now, being of an age to pick the one for himself, parents’ sudden attention and admiring looks were following him everywhere. But Neteyam didn’t rush to choose.

Unlike his brother, Lo'ak seemed to have his life all figured out, especially when it came to matters of the heart. Falling for Tsireya, Lo’ak had many expectations to live up to, if he wanted to be with her. After all, she was the daughter of the chief, and a tsakarem, the future Tsahik of Metkayina. And while at first, Tsireya’s parents were hesitant of the bond she was forming with the forest boy, Lo’ak’s family spoke for himself. His father had played a significant role in the victory at the Three Brothers, providing guidance and knowledge that helped secure their win. Lo'ak also worked hard on himself to earn her parents’ approval. So the day, when Lo’ak finally returned home with Tsireya's necklace around his neck, a symbol of acceptance, was the day when Neteyam felt the weight on his shoulders double in size.

You were no different from the other girls adoring Neteyam, as you had also developed a crush on him during your teenage years. It was unavoidable, really. Before you grew out of your friendship with Tsireya, the two of you used to be quite close. So when the Sully’s first moved to Awa'atlu, and Tsireya was assigned to guide the kids, you were often hanging around them too.

But it was easy for you to accept that you were never going to be an equal match for Neteyam. He had many admirers who were stronger than you, more skilled, more talented, and had respected families. Everything came into the play, and you were losing at every aspect. So, you have successfully suppressed this silly crush for years, before you could finally push it to the very far back of your mind and forget about it. Instead, you occupied yourself with your learning.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Despite not being friends anymore, Tsireya and you have always maintained a polite demeanor towards each other. Now it did feel a little strange to be paired with her for the gathering of pxorna’ fruits, but you had to follow through. As per tradition, the entire clan was divided into groups to prepare for the upcoming celebration, and you were assigned to work together. Even though climbing tall trees wasn't exactly your strong suit as a water Na'vi, protesting wasn't an option: after all, the sweetest fruits were always at the very top. So, to make the task easier, you and Tsireya took turns climbing the trees and picking the fruits, then one would lower the bag for the other to catch and store into the big woven baskets provided. This method ensured that the bag wouldn't become too heavy for you to carry back down.

Ready to lower another batch of fruits, you call out to Tsireya to catch it. But instead of a response, all you can hear is her laughter. Surely enough, when you look down, you find her engrossed in a conversation with Lo’ak, completely ignoring you. You try to catch her attention one more time, before huffing under your breath, and deciding to climb down by yourself. You clutch the bag tightly against your chest, but as you get closer to the ground, some of the fruits start slipping out of your grip. Your hand reaches out instinctively to catch at least one, when you suddenly begin to lose your balance. You can almost imagine the damage to your back muscles, once you will hit the ground, when a pair of hands help you down on the ground.

“I got you,” you hear an accompanying voice.

“Thank you,” you blink in surprise, as you find Neteyam Sully to be your savior.

“You spilled some but they should be good,” he grins at you, as he crouches down and starts gathering the fruits from the ground.

Quietly, you empty your bag into the basket, throwing a glance at the other basket. It’s almost empty. You sigh out of frustration. There was still a lot of work to do, but Tsireya now seems to be completely distracted. At this rate, you’ll never finish.

“Lo’ak, that’s enough,” Neteyam grabs his brother by the shoulder, interrupting his chat with Tsireya. An amused smile creeps up on your face.

“Come on, bro, let’s stay,” Lo’ak gestures to the trees around him, “At least, there is work to do here. You know the area where Ronal sent us for fruit is dead.”

“I don’t care, if we have to gather fruits from the dead trees,” Neteyam tries to pull him but Lo’ak stands his ground, “Lo’ak, you know that whatever Ronal decides is not up to discussion.”

“Bro, we spent an hour climbing those trees for nothing,” Lo’ak points to the empty baskets they brought, “If we stay here, we can help out the girls and gather for ourselves too. No one has to know.”

“Neteyam, please,” Tsireya pleads.

“Ah, what the hell?” Neteyam shakes his head before breaking into a toothy grin, “But these baskets are gonna have to be full, Lo’ak.”

“Sure.”

You roll your eyes at how easily Neteyam agrees to the empty promise. You weren’t close with Lo’ak but even you knew how often he got into trouble for not keeping his word. It doesn’t take long to confirm your suspicion: while you and Neteyam are occupied with the task on hand, Lo’ak and Tsireya disappear from underneath the trees.

“Great,” you huffed, emptying yet another full bag into the basket.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help,” Neteyam says with a gentle tone.

You watch him empty out his bag into your basket too, instead of his.

“You don’t have to do that,” you feel guilty. Does he always work harder to overcompensate for Lo’ak’s behavior?

“I don’t mind.”

He takes it so light-heartedly, you wonder if it’s a daily occurrence. You stare off into the direction where Tsireya and Lo’ak had previously disappeared.

“Don’t you find it annoying?” you ask him curiously. Surely, even he must have his limits.

“They mean well, give them a break,” Neteyam chuckles, nudging your shoulder.

“You know if you keep covering for him all the time, he will never learn his lesson,” you shake your head, “Lo’ak will be the only adult who doesn’t know how to take care of simple chores.”

“He’s not that hopeless,” he laughs, finding your reaction amusing, “He’s just a kid in love.”

You don’t disagree with him, instead falling quiet. There was no place for you to talk about his brother’s behavior, you weren’t close.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be discussing your family matters like this.”

“No need to apologize, Y/N,” his gaze softens, “Besides, wouldn’t you prefer a forest Na’vi climbing the trees, instead of Tsireya? I promise I am much better at it.”

“Of course you are,” you return his smile.

The two of you get back to work, with mostly Neteyam picking the fruits, and you filling up the baskets. Despite your initial annoyance with Tsireya for leaving you, you seem to enjoy working with Neteyam way more. He’s quick and attentive, and you are grateful for him overtaking the climbing part, because you were always a little clumsy when it came to physical activities.

Soon enough, the baskets are nearly full, so you decide to regain your strength and take a break. Neteyam peels fruits for the both of you, and you sit under the trees, enjoying the shade.

“Hey, did you make that bag?” he suddenly points at the pocket attached to your belt. It was a small woven bag that you had on you all the time, in case you found beads or rocks you could put to use.

“I did.”

“It looks great,” Neteyam smiles, “I’m not surprised though. You always had golden hands.”

“That is not true,” you disagree.

“Are you joking?” his smile grows wider, “Y/N, you make the most beautiful items. I see people approaching you everyday for help. Do you know anybody else in the village who is as skilled at weaving as you?”

“Well…no,” you shake your head.

“Believe me, you really have a talent for it.”

It wasn’t just weaving that he was referring to. You were pretty handy when it came to making jewelry, also clothes, and headpieces. When you first indulged yourself in weaving, eager to learn to make beautiful pieces for yourself, you never expected that it would turn into a hobby. Your expertise soon expanded to other things too, like making resin weapons, toys, you even took up pottery. Eventually, people noticed and started approaching you with small tasks here and there, and you were glad to help out. But your clan didn’t have a name for your occupation, so you never considered yourself to fit into one.

“Remember the ceremonial belt you helped me make? It still holds up incredibly,” Neteyam reminds you with a toothy grin.

Of course you remember. It was exactly four years ago, when one night, Neteyam came to your marui, ears pressed flat against his skull in embarrassment. He had to explain the reason for his late visit in front of your parents, saying that he had only the night to make his ceremonial belt. It took you by surprise, because Neteyam wasn’t known for slacking off. He just didn’t think that it would be so difficult to make a damned belt. Scolded by his parents for not starting out sooner, he was then too embarrassed to ask them for help, so there he was instead, asking for yours. Having a soft spot for Neteyam, your parents allowed you to help him, despite the late hour. You two barely caught any sleep that night, working on the belt, making sure that it looked special, different from the other guys’. Neteyam watched your movements attentively, eager to learn, so sometimes you would pass the belt back to him to practice.

“I see you still wearing it sometimes,” you smile.

“You really helped me out back then, I was going to get skinned if I didn’t have a belt by the time for my ceremony,” he pauses, “I still owe you for that.”

“Nonsense, no one owes me anything. Neither do you,” you shake your head, “I like helping.”

“You can’t possibly help everyone with nothing in return.”

“I mean, people bring me food here and there,” you chuckle.

“No gifts?” he quirks his eyebrow.

“Not so much. I can make my own gifts,” you shrug, “But Mateä brings me seashells sometimes.”

“Seashells? Do you like those?”

“Oh, they make necklaces and cover ups look so lovely. Of course, they’re a little tricky to work with but it’s worth it,” you explain, “And Mateä always makes sure to bring the most beautiful shells he can find… Sometimes, he even lets me have the ones he picked for himself.”

You knew Mateä ever since you were kids. He was only a year older than you, but he was very mature for his age, way more than anyone you knew. Mateä was also one of the most skilled swimmers in your clan, which allowed him to swim outside of the perimeters and discover great depths. So whenever he had a small task for you, like fixing up his spear, or making an armor for his ilu, in return he would bring you the most unique-looking, colorful shells he could find.

“Why would Mateä pick shells for himself?” Neteyam squints.

"He probably just likes them," you shrug, "But there were times when he asked me to make a shell necklace for him, but then he would insist that I keep it for myself because he knew how much I liked it."

“So he makes you make your own gifts?” Neteyam snorts.

“Hey, that’s rude,” you give him a playful slap on the arm, “It doesn’t matter. I have many beautiful things thanks to him.”

“I’m only kidding… I just think that he might like you, that’s all.”

“Maybe.”

You don’t deny his accusation, partly because there is some truth to it. Mateä’s and your fathers were close friends, so they were quite happy with the possibility of you and him bonding some day. And while growing up there was no pressure on either side, the two of you had always felt that something might happen. You were never opposed to the idea anyway. Mateä was a good match for you: he was admired for his strength and swimming, and he was very respectful towards you. And even when you had your little crush on Neteyam, you still knew that Mateä was a more likely option. More recently though, you suspected that Mateä was eyeing you too. He just never made a move… not a direct one anyway.

“Is he taking you as his date to the celebration tonight?” Neteyam interrupts your thoughts.

“Are we supposed to bring dates?” you ask, teasing. Sure, some brought dates to celebrations to make their bonds known but it wasn’t a requirement.

“Exactly! My father wants me to bring a date, like this isn’t a celebration of a battle.” he emphasizes the last word with his thick accent, clearly annoyed.

“Why does he want you to bring a date?” you cock your head.

“Because I lied,” he blurts out, a guilty expression covering his face.

“Lied?”

“That I am courting someone,” he cringes, “Even though that someone doesn’t exist.”

“Why would you lie about courting someone nonexistent when you have dozens of girls ready to be swept away by you?” you stifle a laugh, “Especially Zìsmì.”

“Please don’t mention her,” Neteyam rolls his eyes, “I don’t mean to sound rude but Zìsmì is very persistent. I sometimes have to turn directions to avoid running into her.”

“That’s kind of mean,” you decide to tease him, saying that with a stern tone, like you mean it. Neteyam shifts uncomfortably.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s rude of me to talk about her that way,” he begins to apologize but stops at the sound of your laughter.

“I’m only joking, Neteyam,” you tilt your head back, “Don’t worry, everyone knows how pushy Zìsmì can get. If the two of you were ever to become mates, she would dominate you completely.”

“Thank you!” he agrees eagerly, “Please tell that to my parents. They have been so persistent that I reciprocate her attention. I mean… just because she is a good hunter and has respected parents, doesn’t mean I click with her.”

“Is that why you lied?”

“Yeah… I just didn’t think it through. I only said it to get them off my back for a while,” he explains, his voice low, “But when I told them that I wanted to keep it a secret for a bit longer, they got too excited. So sometimes, they kick me out of the house to go on my secret dates.”

“Secret dates?”

“I kind of told them that the girl I’m courting hasn’t told her parents yet, that’s why we have to hide.”

“For a lie you didn’t think through, you sure had many details to add,” you’re amused by the clear regret on his face, “So they want to meet her tonight?”

“To confirm that I am not lying. After all, it’s been going for over a month now,” he sighs.

“A month?”

“I know, I’m going to get skinned,” Neteyam hides his face in his palms.

“Skinned by whom? Dad or Zismi?” Lo’ak’s voice interrupts your conversation.

Hand in hand, Tsireya and Lo’ak emerge from the trees and sit in front of you. She throws a concerned look at Neteyam.

“Dad, of course” Neteyam breathes out, still not lifting his head, “I can deal with Zìsmì later.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Lo’ak smirks, “By the way, you owe me, bro. Zismi was going to invite you as her date tonight.”

“What?” Neteyam looks up at his brother, “How do you know?”

“Oh, she asked me in the morning. She was looking for you, and then told me that she wanted to invite you.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her that she shouldn’t because you already had a date,” he shrugs.

“Lo’ak,” Tsireya groans, disappointed, “Now your brother will have to apologize to her, once she catches on the lie.”

“I am so dead,” Neteyam grunts, “If I could only have a little more time to think about it, I’m sure I can figure it out. But it’s like she’s conspiring with my parents against me.”

“Maybe you just need to finally turn her down,” you suggest, earning a chuckle from Lo’ak, “What?”

“Neteyam and rejecting someone don't go in the same sentence. He would rather run and sneak around the village, than tell someone that they annoy him.”

“I just don’t find that type of conversation pleasant. Or necessary,” Neteyam objects.

“They are necessary if the person doesn’t get the hint,” Tsireya adds, “Remember when Nauru -”

“Please don’t remind me of Nauru,” Neteyam interrupts her with a pleading voice.

“What did Nauru do?” you ask, now curious.

“Oh, you don’t know?” a grin stretches on Lo’ak’s lips, “It was insane.”

“It’s not funny, Lo’ak,” Tsireya shushes him, turning to you, “At first, it was kind of sweet. Nauru would leave gifts for Neteyam by his marui. But there was this one time she left him flowers, and, of course, she didn’t know that some of those were poisonous. Neteyam almost lost a finger because of her. She would also follow him everywhere, even show up to his hunts, almost earning an arrow in her head by another hunter. It was getting out of hand, and Neteyam had to reject her directly and ask her to give up.”

“Enough about Nauru,” Neteyam groans, “What am I going to do now? Even if I do turn down Zismi, I’d still have mom and dad to deal with.”

“You’re right,” Lo’ak agrees, empathizing with his brother, “I’m sure you’ll like someone eventually, but we both know how impatient our parents can get.”

The four of you fall silent for a moment, contemplating a solution to Neteyam's situation. But somewhere deep down in your heart, you feel a little relieved that he didn’t have his eye set on anyone yet. You are also partially grateful to your parents for not pressuring you in the same way. It must be hard having the Toruk Makto for your father.

“I know what to do to win more time, Neteyam!” Tsireya excitedly interrupts your thought process, “Remember the time Ao’nung asked Sìlälaw to play along, as if he was courting her?”

“That was pretend?” you ask. Surely, you missed out on a lot of things by not being friends with Tsireya anymore.

“Of course,” she says, like it’s obvious, “Before finding his mate, Ao’nung was getting scolded everyday by our mom and dad. So, he asked Sìlälaw to help him out, pretend like he was following her around, and she just didn’t like him back.”

“I don’t have time for that,” Neteyam shakes his head.

“No, hear her out, bro,” Lo’ak holds up his palm, “It worked once, right? Mom and dad stopped bothering you, when you lied about courting someone. Just show up this once, with anyone, and that’s it.”

“And afterwards?”

“Just lie,” Lo’ak exclaims, “Say that it didn’t work out or something, who cares.”

“And when it doesn't ‘work out’,” Tsireya chimes in, “You can win some more time by being ‘heartbroken’ and ‘not ready’ to pursue another girl yet.”

“It seems so excessive,” you comment, considering the plan, “Isn’t it easier to tell the truth?”

“The truth doesn’t work,” Neteyam lets out a painful chuckle, then turns to his brother, “Where would I even find someone to agree?”

“Now that’s tough,” Lo’ak hums, “Half of the girls are swooning over you, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What about Y/N?” Tsireya points at you.

“What about me?” you raise your eyebrows, confused.

“You don’t care for Neteyam like that,” she starts explaining, “And, you’ve had Mateä running after you for years now, but he still hasn’t even asked you out yet. Maybe if he sees you with Neteyam for one night, it’ll make him jealous and finally give him the push he needs.”

Neteyam snorts, like it’s an unlikely possibility.

“Mateä is never going to act out of jealousy, he’s not like that,” you object, “What if he stops speaking to me afterwards?”

“Then we will send Neteyam to talk to him. Neteyam will tell him that he’s heartbroken over you, and that you rejected him for Mateä,” Lo’ak chimes in, “He will dig for some information, nudge Mateä to confess to you. It’s so easy, like it was written in the stars.”

You can’t really find a flaw in Lo’ak’s suggestion. Maybe receiving a confirmation about your feelings is just the thing Mateä’s waiting for.

“Still, I’m not crazy. Do you even know how much pressure it would be to face all those girls?”

“Right, I shouldn’t be putting Y/N into such a position,” Neteyam supports your point.

“Y/N doesn’t have to face them at all. You can turn down those girls easily because you’ll have a perfect excuse. They would be too embarrassed to approach Y/N.”

“I guess,” Neteyam hums, “What do you think, Y/N? I mean, no pressure, but I would owe you for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug your shoulders. It just feels icky.

“Come on, Y/N, for the sake of our past friendship,” Tsireya pleads with you.

“Okay… it’s just for one night, right?” you agree. It wasn’t.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your chest, when Neteyam takes your hand in his. You take in a deep breath, heading towards the celebration with him. Lo’ak and Tsireya walk ahead of you.

It feels odd to be wearing Neteyam’s necklace instead of your own. That was the courtesy of Tsireya, who was convinced that once anyone saw you two exchange your necklaces, they would be convinced that the courting was serious.

“I’m scared,” you admit through your teeth.

“Thank you again,” Neteyam whispers, squeezing your hand.

“Come on, guys,” Lo’ak turns to the two of you with an excited smile, “Act natural, okay?”

You nod your head but you’re not sure how you’re going to survive through the night. The closer you get to the celebration, the more people start noticing you. Hushed voices and gasps is all that catches your attention, even though Neteyam walks right beside you. Why does everyone look so surprised? You almost feel offended by the looks you get. Were Neteyam and you really that incompatible?

The four of you take a seat around a small fire, pairs of eyes watching your every moment. You can’t help but sense Neteyam’s nervousness traveling down his body.

“You alright?” you whisper.

“Not really,” he admits, “Have you seen my parents yet?”

As you scan the crowd of Na'vi dancing and singing, your eyes land on Neytiri talking to someone. Jake stands beside her but his attention seems to be elsewhere, as he occasionally looks around him. Both of them are wearing celebratory clothing that is slightly more elaborate than any of yours. After all, it was a testament to their importance in the victorious battle.

“It looks like your father is looking for you.”

“Shit,” Neteyam lets out, nervously. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“Keep it up,” Tsireya says, “The more relaxed you seem, the more believable this will look.”

She gestures at the two of you, and as you look down, you notice how close you and Neteyam are pressed to each other. It’s like you’re trying to hide from the attention you’re getting.

It’s not long before you catch Mateä watching you from afar. Your heart beats faster, when his eyes travel to your hand still intertwined with Neteyam’s. He gulps down, and you wonder if he feels jealous.

“Mateä’s looking,” Neteyam points out, “You want to take it up by a notch?”

“What do you mean?” you turn your face to him, confused.

There is a hint of playfulness in Neteyam’s eyes before he slowly leans in, his mouth close to your ear. You shudder under his breath.

“Pretend I said something funny, and laugh,” he whispers.

“I can’t pretend to laugh,” you whisper back, annoyed, “Can’t you just tell me something funny?”

Neteyam pulls back slightly to look at you. There is an amused smile resting on his face.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?”

“You think?” you quirk your eyebrow at him, earning a small laugh from him.

“Okay, this can work too,” he says. You can’t help but smile at him.

But when you check for Mateä again, he’s nowhere to be found. Your smile drops. What if you hurt him? As if sensing your sudden change in mood, Neteyam gently squeezes your hand.

"Are you alright?" he asks, “Is Mateä still looking?”

“No, I think he walked away,” you mumble, standing up, “I’m going to get us something to drink, okay?”

“Alright,” Neteyam mumbles back, watching you leave.

“Are you crazy?” Lo’ak slaps Neteyam on the arm, “Go with her, or they’re gonna eat her up alive.”

Following Lo’ak’s gaze, Neteyam sees Zìsmì with her friends. He quickly gets to his feet to follow you but you have already disappeared in the crowd.

“Y/N,” Zìsmì’s voice catches your attention.

Sighing, you turn around to face her. She has a coy smile on her lips, as she takes you in from head to toe. You wait for her to talk.

“The necklace, did you make that yourself?” Zismi points to your neck, pretending as if she didn’t recognize it right away.

“It looks a lot like Neteyam’s necklace,” one of her friends says, before you could even open your mouth.

“That’s a little weird,” Zismi comments.

“You have a good eye, it is Neteyam’s necklace,” you gather as much confidence as you can, watching their expressions change, “He gave it to me.”

“Why would he give you his necklace?” Zismi scoffs.

“Because I wanted to see it on her,” you suddenly hear Neteyam’s voice, as he appears next to you, “Everything Y/N touches, basically turns into a lucky charm.”

The girls stare at Neteyam, their eyes widened. Again, you feel a little offended. Why is everyone so surprised that he likes you? Before you can react, Neteyam gently pulls you by your hand.

“We have to go, girls,” he throws with his most polite smile.

Feeling their stares like daggers in your back, Neteyam moves closer to you and wraps his arm around your waist protectively, leading you away from the prying eyes.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he cranes his neck to whisper.

“It’s alright, I’m not scared of Zismi,” you turn to look at him, “Unlike you.”

“Very funny,” Neteyam rolls his eyes.

His arm is still firmly wrapped around your waist, as the two of you continue walking. The warmth of his body against yours feels almost comforting, despite the curious glances you receive. Neteyam seems to notice it too, as he tightens his grip on you, pulling you a little closer to him.

"Just ignore them," there is a hint of annoyance in his voice. You wonder if it’s bothering him more than you.

As you get closer to the big fire, you hear a loud cheer erupt from the crowd. Instinctively, you want to find out what’s happening. A chuckle of disbelief escapes from your mouth, when you see Neytiri and Jake dancing around the fire, to the fast rhythm of the drums. While Neytiri’s movements are gracious and fluid, Jake’s are… Well, Jake is trying his best. She throws her head back in laughter, when he makes an awkward movement, but no one else dares to laugh at the Toruk Makto, except for his mate. Suddenly, he sweeps Neytiri up into his arms and twirls her around the fire. The Na’vi cheer them on and on, clapping their hands in amusement.

You join in on the clapping, caught up in their infectious joy. When you turn to look at Neteyam, however, you notice that he's cringing.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“They are acting like little kids,” Neteyam huffs.

“I think it’s sweet,” you nudge him with a smile, “Loosen up, Neteyam.”

“How can I?” he rolls his eyes at you.

“If your father can relax for one night, so can you,” you push him into the circle, with a loud shout, “Dance, Neteyam!”

Neteyam stands frozen for a moment, clearly embarrassed by your sudden action. His ears lower, and he tries to step out of the circle, but Lo’ak nudges him back in. The music picks up and the crowd cheers louder, but Neteyam stands still, clearly irritated by your behavior.

You can’t watch him anymore, so you jump to his rescue, and take his hands in yours. He tries to resist at first, but it doesn’t take much convincing on your part to get him to loosen up. As you embarrass yourself with the silly movements and faces you make, you finally coax a smile out of him. You don’t care about the others watching you, you only focus on getting him to dance with you. Soon enough, Neteyam’s confidence grows, and he starts to move more freely to the rhythm with you. You hold onto his hands, feeling the warmth of his touch, and beam with adoration as you watch him give in.

Other couples start joining in, and the circle becomes more crowded. People start pressing closer, pushing you and Neteyam towards each other, with barely any space left. His hands instinctively find your waist, yours rest on his biceps, holding him in place. You’re not sure whether it’s the heat of the fire, or it’s just him, but you feel warmer and warmer, every time his eyes meet yours.

“You okay?” you smile, noticing drops of sweat rolling down his face, “It’s too hot here.”

Before he can answer, you lead him out of the crowd. You catch a look from your parents’ from afar, and can only roll your eyes at them. You know they were going to question you about tonight but you don’t want to think about it for now. At least they don’t seem to be mad?

Distracted, you turn around, nearly colliding with Neteyam's parents. They look a little lightheaded, and you suspect they've had a drink made from the pxorna' fruits you gathered earlier. Quickly, you bow low and bring your fingers to your forehead in greeting. Neteyam shifts uncomfortably beside you.

“Son… and Y/N,” Jake looks between the two of you with an approving smile.

“Y/N, are you the one Neteyam was hiding from us?” Neytiri asks curiously.

“Mom,” Neteyam tenses up, “Let’s not make her uncomfortable, please.”

Neteyam looks so stressed, you wonder how his parents believed his lies in the first place. Maybe they were blinded by the excitement?

“We’re just glad that it’s been her this whole time,” Jake says, smiling at you, “You’re very talented, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you reply, shying away from the compliment.

“We were worried that Neteyam was lying just to avoid us,” Neytiri explains.

Neteyam and you chuckle nervously, hoping that this isn’t her smart way of cracking you.

“Are your parents aware?” she asks, scanning the crowd. You quickly draw her attention back to you.

“They are now… I am sorry that Neteyam had to keep this a secret from you, that was my wish,” you lie, “It is just that my mother likes rushing into many things, and I still needed some time to get to know Neteyam.”

You weren’t completely off; your mother did have a tendency to rush into things. If she had known that you were open to dating Mateä, she would have already told him by now.

“No need to apologize,” Jake chimes in, “If anything, I feel bad for forcing your hand.”

“You should feel bad,” Neteyam grunts but you can sense that he’s holding back from saying more.

“It’s alright, I’m happy to be here tonight with Nete,” you pat Neteyam on the back.

Dropping a nickname seems to be just enough to convince them. You notice the satisfied smiles settle on their faces.

“Ma’Jake, let’s leave them alone. After all, it’s their first outing as mates,” Neytiri murmurs, pulling Jake by his hand.

“We’re not mated yet,” Neteyam cringes, but she only finds it amusing.

“It is only a matter of time, you are your father’s son after all.”

As the two of them walk away, laughing, Neteyam takes a deep breath to calm himself down. You can sense how embarrassed he feels, knowing what you heard. But you didn’t mind it all, he has no reason to be this upset.

“Are you okay?” you nudge him but Neteyam refuses to look at you, “Hey, don’t be like that.”

“I just...I didn’t think it would be this hard,” he admits, looking down.

“What would be hard? Pretending to be in love with me?” you tease, craning your neck to see his face.

“No,” he doesn’t even crack a smile, “I’m sorry for getting you into this mess.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I am enjoying this,” you take his hand in yours, finally getting him to look at you, “Besides, we’re almost done, right?”

“Right,” he nods.

“Now, come on, pretend that I said something funny and laugh,” you playfully repeat his words. Neteyam's lips twitch into a smile before he breaks into a genuine chuckle, causing your heart to skip a beat. You love the sound of his laughter.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You two look so good together, I am not ready for this to be over yet,” Tsireya beams, as she plops down in front of Neteyam and you. Lo’ak follows her suit.

“Maybe you should keep it up for a little longer, bro. The way you were dancing - “ Lo’ak starts to imitate Neteyam’s dancing but Neteyam slaps him.

“Stop that, skxawng.”

“Just ignore him, Neteyam, you were great out there,” Tsireya says softly.

“Seriously, being less tense suits you,” you agree, noticing Neteyam hiding a shy smile.

“I got to admit, it wasn’t bad at all,” Lo’ak straightens up, “I just haven’t seen you dance since Naye.”

“Let it go, Lo’ak,” Neteyam grunts.

“Who’s Naye?”

“Neteyam’s first crush from back home,” Lo’ak snickers, enjoying how far he can push his brother, “Neteyam was so in love with her, he couldn't even talk to her. So this one time, during a celebration, he decided to express his feelings by dancing for her.”

“Well, what did she say?” your ears perk up in anticipation.

“She just pretended like it wasn’t happening and walked away,” Lo’ak breaks into laughter.

“That’s not funny,” Tsireya covers Lo’ak’s mouth with her hand, “It’s alright, Neteyam, we all had our share of silly teenage crushes.”

She unintentionally throws you a knowing look, for support, but Lo’ak immediately catches on.

“Who did Y/N have a crush on?” he asks.

You stiffen, feeling their gazes intensifying on you.

“It doesn’t matter now,” you try to switch the topic but Lo’ak doesn’t seem to give up.

“It shouldn’t matter then, if you say it,” he pushes, “It can’t be that bad.”

You let out a sigh, knowing that you won't be able to get out of this.

“I used to have a crush on Neteyam,” you admit as laughter erupts.

You shoot daggers at Lo’ak, who is now rolling in the sand, while Tsireya tries to cover up her laughter. You turn to Neteyam, who looks at you with a shy smile on his face.

“Before you say anything, I feel like I should clear this,” you hold up your hand, “It was just a fleeting crush before I got to know you. And it disappeared. So please don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“So you’re saying your crush disappeared right after you got to know him?” Lo’ak asks, another wave of laughter hitting him. Shit. That’s not how you wanted it to sound.

Neteyam only rolls his eyes at his brother, while Tsireya tries her best to keep a straight face.

“I’m sorry, we just sneaked some of the pxorna’ juice,” she explains.

“I can tell,” you grit through your teeth. You have now truly understood the embarrassment Neteyam felt a moment ago.

“Y/N, please don’t take this to heart,” Tsireya rests her palm on your thigh, “Who cares what happened five years ago? We know you’re interested in Mateä now anyway.”

“Yeah,” Neteyam clears his throat, agreeing, “It was a silly crush, right? It’s all in the past now.”

You nod, but you can't shake off the feeling of unease. You couldn’t help but wonder if Neteyam was relieved that he didn't have to reject one more girl, or if he was secretly disappointed that you were interested in Mateä instead of him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When Neteyam asked you to keep up the fake courting till the hunting festivities to make his heartbreak more believable, you agreed. The festivities were supposed to begin only in a few weeks, to mark the beginning of the hunting season, so you thought it wasn’t a big deal. You could wait. Besides, it seemed like things were looking up for the two of you.

Neteyam was finally getting some time for himself. His father had started to ease up on him, cutting short his training. Knowing that Neteyam was supposedly courting you, Jake wanted to give his son a chance to focus on that.

The past few months had been so tough on Neteyam both physically and mentally, that all he wanted to do was rest and recharge. So he would often use that free time to drop by your marui and ask to take naps on your floor, while you were working on whatever project you had. Since your parents were mostly out, letting you work in peace, Neteyam’s quiet snoring was no burden. And if anyone was visiting you to ask for help with their items, they would only throw an amused look at sleeping Neteyam and leave you two alone, helping you keep up your fake image without much effort. Sometimes, you would catch yourself watching him too, admiring the peaceful expression on his face, as he slept. Of course, this didn’t escape your parents’ attention, as they were peppering you with questions about Neteyam’s intentions almost every night. But you mostly ignored their inquiries, focused on the simple pleasure of being able to help Neteyam.

Slowly, the girls who used to fawn over Neteyam not too long ago also started to lose their interest. Especially with Zismi's parents informing Neytiri that they were considering another match for their daughter. Neteyam felt relieved by the idea that he didn’t have to reject anyone anymore.

On the other hand, you started noticing more efforts from Mateä. Even though you feared that he wouldn’t act out of jealousy, Mateä seemed to be persistent in seeing you more often than he usually did. Whenever you went for a swim, he was right there with you, trying his best to make you laugh. Whenever you would carry a heavy basket, Mateä sprung to your side to help. Not to mention the beautiful seashells he started to bring you without particular reason. It seemed like any day now, Mateä was going to confess his feelings for you. Neteyam didn’t seem particularly pleased whenever he witnessed your interactions, but you only assumed it was an act.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As you rounded the corner to your marui, you suddenly spotted Neteyam pacing around it. You hesitated to approach him as you could hear him mumbling something under his breath. It was almost like he was practicing some sort of speech. Instead, you carefully lowered yourself into the water and swam closer to your home, hiding just underneath. You were close enough to hear him and avoid being seen. You weren’t going to eavesdrop for long, you just wanted to find out what he’s doing before revealing yourself.

Neteyam suddenly stopped talking, and for a second, you thought that he had spotted you. That is until, Mateä came into your view, stopping by the entrance to your marui. You watch quietly, as the two of them exchange a brief greeting.

“Is Y/N here?” Mateä gestures to the marui, but Neteyam shakes his head, “Oh, I guess I thought she’d be here with you.”

“Why would she be with me?” Neteyam asks, with a slight annoyance in his voice.

“Aren’t you courting her?” Mateä asks, confused, “Or are those just rumors?”

“No, it’s true,” Neteyam seems to get his act back together. For a second, you were worried he would accidentally reveal something, “But Y/N is not tied to me every minute of the day, so…”

“So it is true that you’re not mated yet,” Mateä mumbles under his breath.

“Did you have something to pass to her?” Neteyam asks impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest. What is he doing?

“Actually, I'd prefer to give it to her myself," Mateä matches his tone, clearly not liking the possessiveness Neteyam radiates.

“If it’s another thing you want her to make for you, she’s been busy lately,” Neteyam scoffs.

“It’s not a task, I brought her a gift.”

“Let me guess, more seashells?” Neteyam rolls his eyes. What is wrong with him?

“That’s right, I know how much she likes those,” Mateä steps forward.

Seemingly unfazed, Neteyam takes a step forward as well. You shift, thinking of interrupting them before things start to escalate. But Mateä doesn’t seem to be in the mood for an argument. Instead, he brushes past Neteyam towards your marui.

"I'll leave them on her table. Tell her I brought them for her when she comes back," Mateä says over his shoulder. "Actually, don’t bother. She'll know they're from me anyway."

Neteyam watches in annoyance as Mateä disappears into your marui. You can almost hear him exhale loudly, trying to calm himself down. Maybe Neteyam’s just having a hard day today, you think. Perhaps something to do with his father? When Mateä comes back out, he leaves without a word.

Quietly, you swim to the back of your marui, and get out of the water. You pause before rounding the corner, and approaching Neteyam. Upon seeing you, he forces a small smile.

“Neteyam,” you greet him.

“Hey, Y/N,” he scratches the back of his head, nervous.

“Are you here for another nap?” you tease him, proceeding into your marui.

“Actually… no,” he follows you in.

You hum, waiting for him to elaborate, as you start taking out some of the supplies you gathered from your bag. It’s then that your eye catches the beautiful green shells laid out on your table. Neteyam stands awkwardly by the wall, watching your reaction.

“Who brought those?” you turn to ask him.

“Mateä,” Neteyam answers, “I forgot to mention. He was here earlier to see you.”

“Too bad I missed him,” you say, testing his reaction, “But it’s weird that he hasn’t asked me out yet. What do you think? You’re a guy.”

Neteyam has to physically restrain himself from cringing at your words. It takes him a second to regain his calmness, before putting on that fake voice he uses around his father.

“It is weird. He should have asked you out a long time ago.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t like me enough,” you turn your attention back to the shells.

“Nonsense. He’s just a coward,” you hear him scoff.

Surprised, you look at Neteyam again, studying his face. There is a mix of frustration and shame on his face. It's hard to tell if he's getting possessive over you, or if there's something else that's bothering him.

"Is everything okay?" you ask softly, trying to gauge his reaction, “You seem to have a problem with Mateä.”

"Everything's fine. Just... he always seems to hang around you lately," he says, his voice trailing off.

“Well, wasn’t that kind of the point?” you gesture between the two of you, referring to the fake courting.

“I guess,” Neteyam hums, you wait for him to continue, “I just don’t like that he acts like a coward.”

“Maybe if you stop scaring him away…” you mumble under your breath, but he’s quick to catch it.

“You don’t want someone who is so easily intimidated anyway.”

You don’t respond, confused by his behavior. Quietly, you start painting the pot you left unfinished last night. Neteyam falls silent too, watching you. He can’t understand what you see in Mateä. It just doesn't make sense to him. Neteyam also can’t understand why Mateä hasn’t made a move yet. Does he want you to choose him over Neteyam first? Or was he giving you other options, so you don’t have any regrets afterwards?

“You said you wanted something?” you interrupt his thoughts.

“Um, right,” he clears his throat, “It’s kind of awkward.”

You put down the pot and turn to face him, suspecting that it is going to be something good.

“What is it?”

“Well… apparently we’re not convincing enough,” he looks down at his feet, awkwardly, “People think that it’s just a rumor, that I’m courting you.”

“A rumor?” you frown, “But we’re hanging out all the time.”

Is he referring to Mateä’s words? Surely, if there was a rumor like that, Tsireya would have mentioned it to you a long time ago. She was keeping you updated.

“No one ever sees us together outdoors, not after the celebration,” his voice gets a little higher, “I was just thinking that we could take it up by a notch?”

“Well, what did you have in mind?” you tilt your head, curious. Neteyam’s eyes widen at your quick agreement.

“I take you on a date?”

“A date?” you smile, “Alright.”

A toothy grin spreads across Neteyam’s face at your response, causing your cheeks to flush with heat. You can't help but wonder if the two of you were getting too involved in this, and whether it was going to get in your way. But you can't deny the excitement you feel at the prospect of a date with Neteyam. Even if it’s a pretend one.

“What should I wear?”

“Anything pretty, and don’t worry about ruining it. I won’t take you into the water,” he says confidently, like he has everything planned out already.

“Okay,” you agree, reaching for one of the shell-necklaces you made for yourself. You raise your hand to show it to him, “How about this?”

“Hmm,” Neteyam pretends to think about it, as he leans against the wall.

You watch him with an amused smile stretching your lips. You rarely get to see a playful side of Neteyam but you love it when he acts like this.

“I think I have to see it on, to decide,” he finally says his verdict, before cracking a smile.

You roll your eyes but comply anyway, walking up to him and shoving the necklace into his hands. As you turn around and move your hair out of the way, Neteyam carefully begins to tie the necklace around your neck. You can feel his hands shake slightly, as he takes his time. When he’s done, and you turn to face him, Neteyam is standing too close to you.

“Do you like it?” you meet his eyes, unable to put a distance between you.

“I do,” he breathes out.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, Y/N, just dropping by for that pot. If it’s ready,” Tsireya walks into your marui, catching you off guard.

You had just put on a delicate pearly top you’ve made for yourself a while ago, and were trying to see if the ties in the back were in place. Tsireya gasps at the sight of you, bringing her hands to her mouth.

“Did you make that?!” she beams at you, “You look beautiful, Y/N, it suits you so much!”

“You think? Not too much?” you quirk your eyebrow, pushing her for the truth.

“Not at all,” she answers with a knowing look, “Are you going to see Mateä?”

“No, not Mateä,” you shake your head. Tsireya looks at you confused, and you suddenly feel awkward having to explain yourself, “Neteyam wanted us to have a fake date somewhere public.”

“Oh,” that’s all she says.

It’s easy to see when something is bothering her. After all, you have been friends for a long time, you knew Tsireya like the back of your hand.

“Just say it,” you urge her to speak.

“I just think that you shouldn’t drag this out for so long.”

“But Neteyam kind of needs me to keep playing into it,” you explain yet she doesn’t seem convinced, “Besides, Mateä has been showing more interest recently, so it works for both of us.”

“It doesn’t work for you and Mateä,” Tsireya disagrees, “You need to drop this, and Neteyam has to speak to Mateä before it’s too late.”

You don’t answer, considering her words. Tsireya is right, perhaps you should wrap this thing up. It was only supposed to be for one night, right?

“Unless… you like him?” Tsireya looks at you, suspiciously.

“Who?” your voice hitches.

“Seems like you’re starting to like Neteyam again,” Tsireya lets out with a sigh. She hated keeping things from you, but she also couldn’t lie.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Deep down, you suspect that she might be right. Neteyam was quickly starting to work his way back into your heart.

“I am just helping him out, Tsireya. There’s nothing between us,” you lie.

“I just think that this is not worth it… you and Mateä can have something really great.”

“The pot is ready, right over there,” you point to your table.

Tsireya throws an apologetic look at you, and picks up the pot, thanking you. She senses that you don’t want to talk about Neteyam anymore, and decides to give you time to think.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Neteyam?” you frown, as he keeps gawking at you, without a word.

It has been a few moments since he saw you walking out of your marui, and he still hasn't said anything. You begin to feel anxious about your appearance. Is it too revealing? Are the pearls too much? You just wanted to look like you were going on a date.

"You look like a beautiful syulang," he finally breathes out, admiring your look.

“You mean it?” you take a step closer to him.

“I do, you look very pretty,” he confirms, but takes a step back. You notice that he keeps his hands behind his back, as if he's trying to hide something.

"Thank you," you reply, "What do you have back there?"

“Uh, I brought this for you,” he says, bringing forward something wrapped in a large green leaf.

You can't see what's inside, but you assume it's fragile, given how carefully he held it. As you take it from him and begin to unwrap, Neteyam observes your every move with anticipation.

"You really didn't have to bring me anything, Neteyam," you say, meeting his gaze for a moment, “It's not like a real date anyway.”

"I wanted to," he responds shyly.

As the wrapping comes undone, you see a handful of small, delicate yellow flowers. They're unlike anything you've ever seen before, petals shaped in a unique swirl in the ends. As you bring them closer to examine, you gawk back at Neteyam.

"Let me show you something," he smiles.

Without waiting for your permission, Neteyam takes your hand in his, opening your palm and holding it above the flowers, throwing a shade. The yellow flowers begin to glow with a soft, natural luminescence.

“How come I’ve never seen these!” you beam, earning a satisfied grin from him, “This is very special, thank you.”

“I’m not a very good diver, so I can’t get you those shells you like,” he confesses, “But I saw these glowing at the top of the mountain when I was flying last night, so I went back for them this morning because I thought you might like them.”

“I don’t need you to bring me shells, Neteyam, these are very special,” you carefully pull him in for a hug with your free hand, trying not to squish the flowers. As Neteyam wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer, you close your eyes in comfort.

You were already thinking of ways to preserve the flowers, perhaps gathering some resin, and making jewelry out of them. Or something for your hair? Your marui?

“I’ll put them into water, so that they don’t die by the time I get back,” you say, pulling back from Neteyam.

“Don’t worry, I can always bring you more,” he smiles.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Pretending with Neteyam had become effortless. As you strolled along the beach, Neteyam and you were just talking, catching up on the things that happened in the past years. Occasionally, you would make him laugh, and it warmed your heart to see him happy like that, carefree. Whenever you would notice someone watching you, Neteyam would ask you to hold hands with him to appear more serious. You agreed, of course, but Tsireya’s words were slowly weighing on you. You were letting it yourself get too invested, meanwhile Neteyam was only pretending.

As he walked you back to your marui, you could sense his growing nervousness.

“I think my neighbors are watching us,” you whisper with a smile, coming to a halt in front of the entrance.

“Are they big on gossip?” Neteyam leans in slightly, like he’s about to tell you a secret.

“Oh, very big,” you chuckle, “They are always asking my mother about you.”

“Maybe we should give them something to talk about,” he gulps down, bringing his face closer to you.

As Neteyam's eyes lock onto yours, you suddenly feel your heart race. You can't deny the tension between you, but you also can't ignore the possibility of this causing more trouble than it's worth. The thought of rumors spreading around the village about you and Neteyam kissing makes your stomach churn. Maybe this is too far.

“What do you mean, Neteyam?” you manage to ask, captivated by his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, so quietly, like he’s going to scare you away.

“It wouldn’t be a proper date without a kiss,” you mumble. It was supposed to be a joke, a snarky comment, but you sounded so desperate, so impatient to feel him.

Neteyam only nods, his gaze fixed on your lips. He leans in, then hesitates, as if asking for one last permission. You tilt your head slightly, your heart racing in your chest. And when he finally closes the distance between you, you feel his soft, gentle lips on yours. It's so delicate and slow that it feels like a dream, intimate and special.

When you pull away, you notice a small smile resting on his lips. You can’t help but shy away from his gaze, taking a step back.

“Well, I think that was convincing enough,” you joke, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

“Thank you for tonight, Y/N,” he says, straightening up, “Have a sound sleep.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your sleep wasn’t sound at all. You tossed and turned on your mat throughout the night, much to the annoyance of your parents. Your eyes kept being drawn to the bowl of flowers, casting a soft glow in the darkness. It reminded you of stupid Neteyam, of his stupid lips, and stupid captivating golden eyes that glowed the same way under the moonlight. You couldn't get him out of your head, and it was starting to drive you crazy.

Tsireya's warning echoed in your mind - this pretend relationship with Neteyam was going too far. You knew you had to have a serious conversation with him and move on with the final stage of the plan: turn him down. If not, you could ruin your chances of finding a real relationship. Without Neteyam.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Early in the morning, with a determined stride, you make your way to the beach, where you spot Neteyam, training with his father and a group of guys. You don’t think through what you’re going to do, when Jake suddenly notices you.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he says, drawing everyone’s attention to you, “Anything I can help you with?”

You greet them, and gulp down, easily finding Neteyam’s curious gaze on you. Well, you have come so far, why not just get it over with?

“Can I speak to Neteyam for a moment? It won’t take long,” you turn to Jake.

Jake purses his lips, but nods at Neteyam, giving him a sign to go. He approaches you with a worried look on his face.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your training,” you apologize.

Neteyam obliges, when you lead him away from the beach, to talk in private. It’s still early, so most of the clan is asleep. You feel nervous under his patient gaze but you know it has to be done.

“I wanted to talk to you about us,” you begin. Neteyam nods, encouraging you to go on, “I know there’s still a week until the hunting festivities, and I promised to help you till then, but I don’t think I can.”

Neteyam’s eyes widen slightly, but he remains calm.

“Do you want us to stop pretending?” he asks softly.

“Yes, I think it’s for the best if we stop now. If we keep going on dates and…kissing, it might give people the wrong idea, and I don’t want that,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.

He looks down at his hands for a moment, thinking. You don’t interrupt him. He’s probably just trying to come up with the best way of telling his parents. He doesn’t seem saddened that he won’t be forced to spend time with you anymore. You’re the idiot who fell for her fake boyfriend.

“I understand, Y/N,” Neteyam finally says, meeting your eyes, “Thank you for helping me so far.”

“It’s fine,” you let out a breath, “Then it is decided. And Neteyam…we have to keep our distance from now on.”

Neteyam watches, as you walk away with a mixture of feelings. You're relieved, yet also disappointed that the fake relationship is over. You can't help but wonder if things could have been different between you and Neteyam, if only circumstances were different.

︵‿︵‿��‿︵

The following days seem to stretch with a painful slowness. You feel lost, with a constant sense of longing that follows you like a shadow. The realization that you had fallen head over heels for Neteyam and can’t be with him hits you hard. You feel stupid but you can't help thinking about him all the time, trying to carry on with your day-to-day tasks. But it seems like everything is taking more effort than it used to.

Every now and then, you catch a glimpse of Neteyam from afar, and he looks just as sad as you feel. You can't help but wonder if he's just putting on a show for the sake of the rumors, to make it believable. You wish you could just talk but avoiding him is the right thing to do for now.

And as suspected, it doesn’t take long for rumors about you turning him down to start spreading throughout the clan. People notice that you two aren’t spending time together anymore and are avoiding each other. It is ironic, how they think that it's Neteyam going through a heartbreak, when in reality it is you.

When Tsireya comes to congratulate you on the successful plan, she tells you that Mateä has heard the rumors and was preparing to confess to you. But you don’t want Mateä anymore. Instead of sharing Tsireya’s excitement, you can’t hold back any longer, and break down in front of her, confessing your true feelings for Neteyam. It is freeing to finally let it out, to have someone to confide in. As she comforts you, it feels like you are friends again, if only for a moment.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You got ready a long time ago. Your hair decorated with feathers and beads, face painted with white ceremonial patterns. In a few hours you would be joining the rest of the clan, to wish a farewell to the Metkayina hunters. The Tsahik would bless them with a prayer to Eywa, and after you sing your songs, the young men will leave. It was a tradition in your clan, that at the beginning of each year, the young hunters would travel by the water to an unfamiliar land. It was a test that every hunter had to pass, to learn to adapt in every situation and be able to stand for himself and for his allies. Sometimes, it would take them a few days to return back with a prey. Sometimes, it would last a full moon. It depended on Eywa’s guidance, and the hunters couldn’t return without receiving a blessing first.

Despite the value it held, the passage was still dangerous. It was painful for you to recall the instances when the groups returned with wounded or missing Na’vi. And although you were aware that it was Neteyam’s third time going on the hunt, you couldn't help but feel worried sick for him. Tonight, with the rest of your clan, you had to show your support, but your mind was contemplating not showing up at all. You didn’t want to see his face, afraid that it might make your heart break further.

There was still time for the ceremony, as you wandered off to the water, trying to calm down your nerves. It would be disrespectful not to go, you had to show up and pray to Eywa that she keeps Neteyam safe and sound. You’re so deep in your thoughts, it takes you a second to notice Mateä sitting down next to you. You force a small smile to greet him.

“Excited for tonight?” he gestures to the extra pieces of ceremonial clothing you’re wearing on your arms and legs.

“Just wanted to be ready in time,” you’re not sure how to respond. You knew Mateä your whole life, yet it feels awkward to be with him alone.

“I heard that you turned down the son of Toruk Makto,” Mateä emphasizes, you hum, “I will not lie to you, at first, when I heard about it, I was relieved. I thought that he doesn’t deserve you. But seeing you like this… it saddens me. I do not wish for you to be unhappy.”

“Thank you, Mateä,” you hang your head at his words.

“Listen, Y/N,” he says softly, “We have known each other since we were babies. And while I curse myself for not spending more of my time with you back then, I do not want to regret this chance too.”

You meet his eyes again, nervously. You knew him pretty well. When Mateä was sure about something, he confronted it head on. Whether it was a rejection or an acceptance, he wished to know the truth in order to move on.

“I always had my eye on you, Y/N,” he confesses, “What I didn’t realize that it was not just in a way one would look after their friend. It is shameful to admit but… it took me seeing you with another man to understand the true nature of my feelings. I like you, Y/N, and I wish to know if you feel the same way.”

You gulp down, tears filling up your eyes. The man you thought you could spend your life with was finally opening his heart to you, yet you didn’t want it. Your own heart belonged to somebody else. Oh Eywa, why couldn’t you enjoy what you had wished for?

“Don’t cry,” Mateä whispers, noticing the tears rolling down your cheeks, “Your heart belongs to him, doesn’t it?”

You can see the brave face he puts on, as you slowly nod your head. You feel so guilty and ashamed for admitting it to him. Mateä was really one of the only people in your life that you valued, and you were hurting him.

“I’m sorry,” you sniff, “If there was a way for me to make this better…”

“You don’t have to apologize, just don’t cry, okay?” he reaches out to wipe away your tears, and you nod again, “That is enough for me.”

You don’t feel like you even deserve his attention right now.

“Mateä, if I could take away the pain that I’m causing, you know I would in an instant,” you mean it.

"I know, Y/N. But you can't help who you love," he says softly, "Regardless of what you choose to do, just promise me that we can still be friends, alright?"

"Of course, Mateä, you mean a lot to me," you nod, grateful.

"Good,” he stands up with a small smile, “Now, let's go. We don't want to be late."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You quietly take a seat next to Tsireya, who is anxiously watching Lo’ak from a distance. Despite knowing how important it is for Lo’ak to partake in the tradition, she can’t help but feel worried for him. You lay your hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

“Lo’ak is a skilled hunter. You know that Jake takes training very seriously,” you reassure her.

“You’re right,” she nods her head, then turns to face you, “You came with Mateä... Did you talk?”

You nod, pursing your lips together. It’s not difficult for Tsireya to realize what happened. It was only logical that you would reject Mateä because of your feelings for Neteyam.

“Oh, Y/N,” she lets out, pulling you in for a hug. You feel like it’s comforting not only you, but also her.

As the rhythm of the log drums slowly picks up, everyone falls quiet. The Tsahik makes her way to an open space, and the hunters quickly surround her in a circle, kneeling down. It’s then that you see Neteyam, wearing his headpiece and armor, with bow and arrows attached to his back. You can’t help but feel a twinge of worry for him but you push the feeling aside, afraid that it might ruin his luck.

When the Tsahik’s voice fills the air with a praying chant, the hunters begin to sway in unison, seeking the blessing and guidance of Eywa for their upcoming journey. With the rhythm of the log drums, you find yourself lost in the moment too, closing your eyes and letting yourself be carried away.

Eventually, when Tsahik stops, the hunters rise to their feet. As per practice, they must bid farewell to their loved ones, in case they may not return. You can’t help but feel nervous because this part of the ceremony is usually long, and Tsahik allows everyone to take their time. You know that soon enough you will watch Neteyam making his way to his family, and it hurts to know that he won’t be saying goodbye to you too. With every passing second, you feel more anxious, and all you want to do is get away from there. So, when the rest of the clan starts moving, you stand up to leave without even looking in his direction.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You rush through the trees, making your way into a small clearing, illuminated by the moonlight. You take a moment to breathe in and out with the sounds of nature, and eventually calm yourself down. When suddenly you hear a rustling of the leaves.

Your heart skips a beat as you see Neteyam making his way to you, with a mix of concern and confusion.

“Y/N, why did you run off?” he asks, as soon as he’s close enough for you to hear.

“Doesn’t matter,” you dismiss him, “Why are you here? You should be with your family now.”

“I already talked to my family,” Neteyam comes closer, and your breath catches in your throat, “But I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you.”

“Neteyam,” you’re so confused at his behavior. Did he feel guilty because you looked upset? He shouldn’t be here with you right now.

“Y/N, why did you reject Mateä?” he asks suddenly, catching you off guard, “Tsireya told me.”

You don’t answer, holding his gaze. He hated rejecting girls, you can’t burden him now, before his hunt.

“Was it because of me?” he pushes.

“It does not matter, Neteyam,” you try to brush him off, “You have a hunt ahead of you, you shouldn’t be here right now. Shouldn’t be making your night about my stupid actions.”

“How can I not make this about you?” he says, irritated, “Everything is about you now, Y/N. Every moment of every night and day, doesn’t matter what I’m doing, my mind is occupied with the thoughts of you!”

“W-what?” you stutter, caught off guard.

“So for you to tell me ‘it doesn’t matter’ if you rejected Mateä for me… Of course, it matters. It matters to me, because... Because I see you,” he lets out, breathing loudly.

You stare in confusion, as Neteyam’s eyes jump all over your face, searching for a reaction. All you can do is think about how much you wanted him to say those words to you. To tell you how much he liked you, longed for you, the same way you did for him.

“I see you too, Neteyam,” you manage to whisper, reaching your hand to cup his cheek.

A loving smile breaks on his face, when Neteyam pulls you in for a kiss. He is so desperate to touch you, to know that it’s real. You’re real. Happiness overwhelms you, as you smile against his lips, your hands gently cupping his face.

“I’m yours,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m yours forever,” you whisper back.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Did my best to upload this before my job interview tomorrow, so by the time I come back, I want you to leave your comments and tags!!! Seriously, I love that shit, it makes my heart melt. Especially when you submit questions

my 30k enemies to lovers fic (neteyam x ta'unui reader)

taglist: @ancientbeing10, @anm3mi ; @lovergirl-3000 ; @sunjayist ; @rensbby ; @okaylorrainee ; @cappsikle ; @raeeahn ; @yawneneteyam ; @oh-austin ; @midlife-crisisperson ; @teyums

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