#I cannot not angst when it's this pairing my apologies | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwan-g · 24 days

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𝑺𝑨𝒀 𝒀𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑵 (18+)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ pair. music professor! chris x fem! reader | genre. teacher/student, chris’ pov, age gap, smut, dark romance, angst | warnings. power imbalance, obsession, flawed characters, profanity, unprotected sex, use of pet names, dirty talk, graphic sexual content — mdni ! | word count. 8.1k

𐙚˙⋆.˚ synopsis. I’m too weak to let you be, to walk away from you. It’s a twisted, distorted thing, what’s going on inside me. I see no end to it, no relief. Only suffering. I did this to you, my heart, and I cannot apologize. I don’t want to. I’m jealous, I’m jealous, I’m wretched.

I watch you.

That’s a new dress. You walk different in it, your hips sway like you want everyone to notice, and they fucking have. I have. It’s hard not to when you’re so oblivious to your wanting, but I know you, I know what you want. There’s a scarf wrapped around your hair, and the boots you wear make you almost as tall as me, bring you up to my shoulders. I’m jealous of your calves, how they get to carry you all throughout the day, how they lay down with you at night. Your eyes, how they stare at you from every reflection, attached to you, able to see every inch of you from up close.

I’m jealous of your hands, how they brush through your hair as you sit down on the chair across from my desk, the chair you’ve been sitting at for three semesters now, the best view I get to have of you. The only time I’m able to be so close to you without anyone’s suspicion, the only time you’re required to answer to me and all my questions. I have so many of those, but I want to start with your skin. Is it as soft as it looks? When the air blows your way, how would you feel under my palm, shivering, a million tiny goosebumps rising on the surface?

You’re talking to the girl that trails you like a lost puppy, not quite a friend, always around you, yet suddenly I’m glad, because you laugh at something she said, a sound so clear, so light, it lifts the furniture and cures the wood, it builds the room and covers the cracks, pure fucking magic, until all is right again, until I am left with a gaping wound where that beautiful sound nests when it’s gone from the air. It suspends in my head and I let it. I can’t take my eyes off you. You command everything.

Satie is in your hand, what we’re studying, the copy I gave you, my personal one, with all my marks and annotations. You treat the pages carefully, aware of my watching you, yet you don’t turn to me once. You won’t look at me at all. A beast rattles inside me, begging to grab you, to hold you, to never let go. I haven’t seen you in private for weeks and I’m mad with desire, the urge to bury into your sweet cunt and wrap my hand around your warm throat, feel the pulse there, see the gasp of your mouth, the red of your tongue, your eyes on me, me, me, afraid of what I can do, of the power you give me over you, your attention, the hollow ache in my chest; I’m angry at you for being happy without me while I’m being tormented by your absence, no matter how small, no matter how big, and you still won’t fucking look at me.

(Y/N). I think of your name how I think of God. This mythical creature that has the ability to save me. Will you? (Y/N). Look at me. Look at me.

“I am tired of always dying with a broken heart.” I speak this from memory and stare directly at the boy who’s been tailing you lately. A mediocre student, unremarkable. Nothing at all.

You can’t possibly entertain him, I’ve already told you this. He doesn’t see you, couldn’t possibly. He’ll fuck you once—even at merely the thought of this I bristle, I want to crack his fucking head open—and move onto the next pretty thing, blind to you, to what you are, to all you have yet to become. It’s unbearable to me that no one seems to realize how incredible you are; your mind, vast in all directions, insightful, and your music compositions, profound and disturbing, the little I’ve taught you and all that you’ve taught me, the way you hold the pen between your fingers, how you curl around your notebook, the way your eyes skim the pages I’ve toiled over for five years, six more prior to becoming a professor, all leading to the beginning of this school year, how you walked in my class and brought me to my knees.

“So dramatic,” someone in the back mumbles. Someone else giggles, a girl I had last year. Mundane.

I wait for your reaction, but it never comes. You stare pointedly down at my book and ignore me. You’re gonna force me to get your attention some way else. You’re punishing me for something, and I’ve no fucking clue what. You want this. Me. Begging for you. Risking everything. My God, look at your wrists, so goddamn delicate, so small. I picture wrapping my hand around them how I did the first time I stopped you from leaving, I picture myself shaking you, demanding to know what’s wrong, making you see how you make my heart bleed.

I need to know you’re okay. I need you to look at me.

“Satie was an absurdly spiritual composer for his time,” I explain, leaning against my desk, crossing my ankles, my arms over my chest. One glance at everyone else, then I stop at you. I speak to you. Let me in. Let me see you, (Y/N). “A very solitary man that was capable of inventing his own religion in order to break further from society. A character like that would be a tad dramatic, albeit entirely genius, yes?”

“How do we study this guy? There’s nothing to learn from his techniques!” Your friend shook her head, slamming the book in front of her shut. “Child’s play. Overly simplistic. Only two noteworthy compositions in an entire career. Seriously, does anyone know anything besides Gymnopedies by him?”

“Gnossiennes,” another deadpanned. “Your point is shallow. He changed the tides. Music before the work you mention was entirely different from what it was after. Debussy, Poulenc, Ravel—all legendary figures that were deeply impressed by his so-called simplified style.”

A few heads nod in agreement. You remain still as ever, unmovable. What is in that brilliant little brain of yours? Why won’t you share with me? I know you best of all, I’d understand anything. Tell me. Tell me how a girl ruined an already troubled man, and we’re studying it a hundred and thirty-one years later. Tell me about obsession that rules over the mind, of the living digging graves of the dead and hugging their bones, of loneliness so haggard it chokes the air from my fucking lungs. Let me in, and I’ll point at you, my Suzanne Valadon.

“He fell in love once,” barely a sound, barely anything, yet it’s all I hear. I focus on your voice, the lull of it. Your castrating words, my baby. You’re here. You’re burning alive.

“He did.” I jump at the opportunity to talk to you in public. I’d give my blackened soul to hold your hand, to walk you to class. They’ll paint me a monster, but I’d be yours, I wouldn’t care. They’d whisper scandal, unethical, but I’d have stood next to you, defending what I feel for you, knowing very well they’ve only seen a sliver of my monstrous need for you.

This is not enough for me, but I can’t ask for any more of it.

“They tie many meanings to us, meanings that forsaken them, per their request. Satie loved Suzanne, but only because she was the only woman that ever paid him any attention. He wanted to possess her, so that he’d never be alone. It was a selfish love, barely a love at all, more like a torn house looking for an exorcist.”

There you go. Come on. Fight with me on this. Let me hear your voice, wash over me.

“You cannot fault a man, a man of music no less, for the way he loves. We are wicked by nature, we do not possess the softness you do. Even then, Valadon was a painter, as wildly eccentric as him. She refused to be put in a box. She saw only a mirror, and in that way, she saw herself. You could say her love was narcissistic.”

“Bonjour, Biqui, bonjour!” I hear somewhere from the side, but I only see you. I'm tuned in to you, your opinion about what I have to say.

I only ever care about what you think. When I grade your papers, my hands tremble to touch something so precious as your mind. I am the weakest man when it comes to you, I cave in like a house of cards. Pick me up and shuffle me. Toss me across the table, face down. Only use me, let me feel you. Visions of my cock entering you render me blind. Your voice, then. My name on your mouth as I push all the way in, right there on your desk, lights off, door locked. I can’t see no one but you, (Y/N), I’m tortured by the memories.

Can I see you after this? Will you stay? Will you let me lock the door again?

Your eyes scorch me. They light me on fire and leave me to die, I can’t bear the heat of them. How have I wronged you? What did I do to get your hate? And if this is it, then give me all of it, let it be the last thing before an afterlife wandering through a black forest, cursed with only the echo of you. I love you insane, battered and bruised. I love you with a dying breath, a horrible ending.

“Perhaps,” you say and it takes all of my willpower not to crawl to you. “Perhaps they deserved each other, in all their terrible love. Him obsessed, her always leaving. She got married to a banker. He wrote a twenty-eight second, four bar song, after all the portraits and love notes.”

You’re humiliating me. This. What I feel for you. You haven’t been in my office in days, you’ve become a stranger to your soul, and now you come back and shame me. You’ve found someone else. Who is he? Have I seen him? I’ll fucking end him. I’ll kill him, I swear. Don’t fucking test me. You don’t want to see that part of me, you don’t want to see what I’m capable of doing for you.

“‘Her whole being, lovely eyes, gentle hands,’” You pin me down, you stab into me. “We enter the Romantic Era, page two hundred and seventy-nine. Known characteristics of this movement: a greater emphasis on melody to sustain interest, a focus on the nocturnal, the ghostly, and terrifying…”

I go the entire lecture desperately trying not to stare at your face, that beautiful openness you offered me now tightly shut, entirely passive. How do I survive this, even as I know I am a grown man and should not think this way. I cannot, for the life of me, remember who I was before you walked in this room, what I was doing, why, there was no reason; you, you, you, I was waiting, maybe, an empty train station, and you the flying bullet train, cutting oxygen supply as you passed in front of me, making your stop slowly then all at once, sighing into me, giving me back my life or a semblance of it.

I assign passages and give examples, muscle memory on the piano; I grill the fucking kid that has a crush on you, I make his life miserable, and I think, that’s it, that’s right. You do it to me. You do it to me so easily. This is how it is to love her, man. You’re not made for it, but I am. I’ve survived, and she’ll acknowledge it. I’ll make her.

I sound childish to myself, petty. Truth is, you’re mine. You’re fucking mine. You can’t do this to me.

You jot down notes, you burn through the board, you raise your hand and say all the correct answers, picture perfect student, and I’m as good as dead to you. I’ve been inside you, baby, you can’t forget that. I’ve felt your warm slick clamp around my cock, I’ve had your mouth on my neck moaning my name. You can’t get rid of me. I can’t rid myself of you.

I dismiss the class at eleven sharp, and call you to me. A minute, I say, about the extra credit, even as your friend eyes me, even as the boy glares at me, even as rumors have started to circulate. She’s fucking the teacher, it’s obvious. She’s with him all the time. Except you’re not, not even close, not nearly as much as I want you to be. If I had it my way, I’d hold you to me so tight you’d become an extension of me, unable to escape me whenever you feel like.

I wait until everyone exits, then inconspicuously close the door half way, grab your arm and drag you all the way to the other side of the room. You don’t put up a fight, but your dress has risen on your hips, and I’m suddenly furious. I pull at it and trap you against me and the wall. The lack of reaction sickens me. How is it possible I’ve lost you already?

“What the fuck have I done to you that was so bad, huh?” I speak low so only you can hear, but I’m boiling inside, I’m as dangerous as I’m hurt.

I want to fuck you senseless. Dead. I want to kill you. I want to bury inside you so deep I can’t ever get out. Your breathing pattern changes, you must see it on my face. I don’t feel like being fucked with right now. You’re scared of me, but not really. I would never hurt you. It’s all fantasies, all obsession. I can’t bear the thought of losing you is all, but I need to know what’s going on. This has cost me, it will cost me even more.

I grab you by the hair, tug softly at the ends, and your chin lifts. I trace it. Your eyes widen a fraction but you don’t give in, not yet. I press my erection against you, I breathe like a wild animal. You’re so small in my arms, I could do whatever I want with you. You’d let me. You have already. I just need to find that girl in you again, pull her out.

“I won’t be the teacher’s slut,” you spit out, your lips cherry red and begging to be kissed.

“Too fucking late, isn’t it?”

You try to push me away but I keep you there, your wrists above your head, your face close to mine. I’m lost on you, my mouth goes for the soft skin of your earlobe, I suck on it and feel you melt, I move to your neck and you let me, you’re rubbing your thighs together, you’re begging for friction. I have to close the door. I have to close the door and make sure I’m quick. Classes are still in session on this side of the building. I can’t let myself get sloppy. I’m not gonna risk losing this.

I bite on your neck and you gasp. I’m hard for you. My free hand reaches under your dress, cups you over the thin fabric of your underwear. Wet, goddamn soaked. A string of curses escapes me, as I glance back at the door.

“Stay here, don’t fucking move.”

I take four long strides and lock the damned thing separating us and them, though I know I still have to be quick with you. I held you back in front of the entire class. It’s already been a considerable amount of time for a simple back and forth.

“I can come back later,” you say as I near you again. “After hours.”

In my office, where it’s private and secluded. Where no one will interrupt us or hear us. What you’re suggesting is more sane than what I want to do right now. The logical part of my brain wants to agree. The rest of me lifts your dress and shoves two fingers where I know you want them the most. You writhe against me, and hook your thigh around my hip, opening. That’s it. I knew that’s all you needed. It’d been too long, that was all. I just had to show you how good it is again.

There’s my good girl. Fucking yourself on my digits, your cunt throbbing for my cock.

“I need you, please, please, please, please…”

I cup your breast in my palm, free your nipple with my teeth and bite on it. You hiss, and say my name. I almost finish in my pants, hearing that filthy mouth mutter my name, but your hands are quicker, they’re unzipping and pulling me out, red veins popping, leaking precum, hard as a fucking rock. I want to tear you apart, I want you to feel me for days after.

You jump in my arms and I lift you up. You guide me inside, and I slip into you so easily. A well rehearsed game between us, how fast we can fuck, the thrill of getting caught too great, the adrenaline rushing through my veins pistoling through you, and I pump, I fuck your little soaking cunt until you’re a blabbering mess, until all you can moan is yes yes yes, just like that, right there, right there, and I know where that is, I got you, I’ll take care of you, I’ve done it so many times before.

Where did you think of going? No one can give this to you better than me. You love my cock. There’s no other girl that will do it for me like you do. I tell you this, my forehead dropping to meet yours, your mouth seeking mine. I kiss you, my tongue tasting the strawberry bubblegum you were chewing on earlier, my dick impossibly hard. You’re milking me dry, you’re so horny, I never want to stop, (Y/N).

“I’ll never get sick of how your body responds to me, baby. Come on. I know you’re close.”

You get so whiny when you’re on the verge, your voice raspy from all the hard breathing, and I meet you thrust to thrust, I fuck into you with all I have until I shoot inside you, until my arms give out and I have to lay you on the closest desk, and still I don’t stop, I keep going until I feel your cream, until I reach between us and shove it all inside you, three fingers this time, then kneel down and taste us. You’re so far gone by that point, and I’m distantly aware that we’ve overstayed our time.

I can’t bring myself to care. I want you. I want you so much, my heart is screaming at me. I need to eat you out until you’re coming apart for me again. My hand shoots up and grabs your throat to pull you to sit up, rough, how you like it. Your face is flushed, your hair a mess. I’m proud I got you looking this way. My seed will be inside you for days, you won’t be able to wash it out. I lift your dress once more, your smooth, swollen cunt fucked nice and raw, before I give it a stern slap and bring your underwear over your other leg, dressing you.

We smell like sex. I know we’re not careful anymore. I can’t bring myself to care. Sometimes it happens, it’s a good enough excuse. This, between us. Especially between us. We’re two consenting adults. There was no way to escape you. There was nothing I could’ve done. You grew roots inside me and have been growing ever since.

“Come visit me tonight,” I tell you as I walk you to the door. I unlock briskly, and look outside, left then right.

No one within earshot.

“Perhaps we should…” I look at you. Whatever’s in my gaze, makes you pause. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t get a reputation, Chris. I won’t.”

“Two minutes ago you told me to call you a good-for-nothing fucking whore as I fucked you dumb. I think we’re past lying to ourselves, yeah, baby?”

You blush and look down. “I just…”

“Do I need to put you on all fours?”

“That’s not fair. You can’t wave sex in my face and get me to stay.”

I retreat like a wounded dog at your feet. “Is that what I’m doing?” I ask you honestly, Heaven and Hell fighting inside me. Yes, one side says while the other soothes, you’ve done only what you know. You’ve been desperate, clinging onto whatever scraps she throws at you.

You kiss me suddenly, your hand resting on the nape of my neck, pulling me down. I move away a burned man. The door is wide open. You study my reaction and sigh. I can’t help but feel this was some sort of test and I just failed terribly.

I have more to lose than you, a regrettable and bitter realization. If the board takes this entirely the wrong way, I could get fired and my license suspended. The power imbalance is too much. If I can’t teach, I won’t be able to see you how I want to. You’ll be here and I’ll be God knows where. You want to protect me. I haven’t been doing the same. I’ve been taking and taking, I’ve been the selfish one.

“Go,” I whisper. “Leave.”

“Chris…we can still—”

“For fuck’s sake, do what you’re told for once!”

You run away from me faster than you ever have before. And for once, I don’t feel like stopping you. My body is another story. My hands tremble at my sides, my fists clenched so tight I’m afraid to move.

I want to hit something. Anything. I want you back here, telling me it’s okay, no one will know, not if we’re careful, not if we keep our distance otherwise. How I say yes, yes, as long as I get to have you like this, as long as I can get lost in you, and how I lay you down, how I never once thought of the consequences then.

Night comes, and we’re back to this. You, knocking softly on my door, and me, forever answering to your summoning, forever bound by the chains that lead only to you. The hallways are dark, the rest of the faculty having locked up long before, probably enjoying dinner in the common room, wondering once again where I am, why I never join them, how I’m no better than the rest, despite teaching Music Theory at one of the oldest universities at my twenty-nine years. I’ve earned my time of solitude. I don’t need to answer to anyone.

Anyone but you, (Y/N).

I hug you to me, and pull you inside, locking behind us. You’re tender in my hands, so impossibly soft, and I feel your melancholy mood, your glistening eyes, full of unshed tears. I wipe at them, I kiss them until they’re mine, I pacify you by whispering your name, very very quietly, my baby girl, so I can convince you that this is real, that you will never lose me, that I have nowhere else to go but you. That I would choose you over and over, that I’m so fucking sorry I ever made you doubt this singular truth.

How I regret meeting you under these circumstances, and if I had it my way, we’d be moving in together by now, we’d be browsing for a couch and a dining table. You laugh at that and call me silly. I don’t care. I got you to laugh, I shook the dreaded uncertainty away. I would do anything for you, my heart.

I sit you down in my chair and get on my knees. Your hand reaches out and I keep mine at your hips, afraid of all the things I want to do to you, with you. Your skirt is black, it reaches just above your knee; all that expanse of naked skin, smooth and unbearable. I rest my head on your lap, the stubble of my jaw rubbing against it, and you shiver, your breath turning quick, excited to have me so close to your core.

“Did you shower?” I ask you, getting hard at the thought of you walking around all day with my scent on every inch of you.

I feel you shake your head, and I smile, kissing the side of your thigh, fingers roaming down down down, the curve of your calf, down down down, your ankle, the delicate bone there. I stretch your leg and kiss all that I can. I smell your arousal, I’m so close to where I wanna be. You exhale a small breath, and I look at you. Your eyes have gone dark, wanting. My baby. I know you. I got you.

“Take your jacket off, let me see you.”

You comply, and I give you time. I make space in my desk, I turn off the lamp, I drench you in absence. All the while my need grows savage, my stomach knots. I feel like a fucking teenager, so eager to slip into warm pussy and never come out. Your warm pussy. For me, only yours.

When I turn around again, you’re taking off your skirt. No underwear. My body goes taunt, I all but fucking growl, as I grab you and smash our mouths together. My fucking girl, mine mine mine, you exist only for me, I’m going to fuck you so good, I’m going to eat you alive.

“I did it for you,” you mumble on my skin, shy, and I put you on the desk, open your legs wide. “I’ve never done it before.”

I dive right into the heat of you. Wet and sweet and slightly musky. So filthy. I love you, every part of me beats this. I love you like this, I love you, I love you. I suck your clit in my mouth, nibble it, bite it. You gasp and moan and move, your fingers in my hair, pushing me away, pulling me closer. You’re a tide, I’m at your mercy. My tongue slips in your hole, and I get to fuck you like this too. I’m so lucky. I’m so fucking privileged that it’s you under me. No one will ever compare again.

You’ve ruined me for everyone else.

What we do after this—you come, violent and thrashing, and I drink every last drop, a thirsty beast at your feet, under trance, under powerful spells and your smell, your smell, baby, your juices. I’m parched. I can’t get enough, I’m greedy, I ache all over; I pull you up and I kiss you. I kiss you and I die. You want to get down, you say, you want me in your mouth. You’re so impatient, so hungry, my love. I deny you nothing.

I grab your hair into a makeshift ponytail and let you undress me. Your fingers, working my buttons, lowering, stroking—I close my eyes, the picture of you etched behind my eyelids—I see you, stuffed with cock, slurped cunt satiated; you’re orgasmic, baby, I contemplate shoving your face on my carpet and taking you from behind, tight and ready for me. I groan, fuck your face until I see white, slapping your red cheeks, spitting in your mouth and shoving myself back in there. You’ve unlocked something primal in me and you’re enabling it, because you love having sex like this, you love being told what to do, you love being manhandled.

At the sight of you crying, I bust. You swallow everything. “Fuck, baby, god fucking damn me…” as I get on your level and wipe your face, lick the salt off your tears, bruise your lips. I take you in my arms and you fall against me, exhausted. I lay you down slowly, an angel being consumed by sin, me the devil, the defiler, and for a moment I’m ashamed; I took you a sophomore, music only your minor, literature your true passion, where your loyalty lied, and I changed your entire plan. I didn’t mean to. I only wanted to keep seeing you, to hear more of what you have to say, to witness it first hand, mere steps from you, so close I could touch, so close I could reach you.

The piano lessons I gave you in those first months, the stolen touches, glimpses of your profile as you learned the keys, as I explained the five finger scale, and then your first song, your second, the way you kept getting better and better, the fastest student I’ve ever had, your ability to write music with no idea how to play it. Teaching you was falling in love with you. It couldn’t have happened any other way. As I stare at you underneath me, hair fanning around your fucked out face, all I wanna do is lay next to you and fall asleep.

Watching you sleep. Being next to you, trusting me with your eyes closed—I can’t have it like this. You’ve never stayed the night. I’ve never let you. It’s my responsibility to keep you safe from what I’ve dragged you into. It can only go so far until I stop it. I do it with my heart breaking, an open cage. This emotion slams into me, like I’m holding you back from some amazing thing somewhere else, anywhere else, like you could have more; all this could ever be is this dark room with the lock in place, the piano on the side, quiet, in the dead of nothing. You’re attached to a ghost, you love no one.

I’m jealous of your shadow, how it follows you around unbothered, with no shame. My head would hang, a pariah paraded, they’d throw stones, scream names. It’d be all they see, all they’d talk about—see this girl, she’d disappear every evening, and after class, yeah, so many people saw her, she’d chase after him like a lost puppy, what a strange thing—but it was me chasing, it’s me lost, the sick dog begging at your doorstep, the stranger, the disturbing.

“Chris?”

I dig my nails in your hips and lift you up, flip you around, press on your back, your ass flush against my hardening length. I refuse to let you see the monster. I’m too weak to let you be, to walk away from you. It’s a twisted, distorted thing, what’s going on inside me. I see no end to it, no relief. Only suffering. I did this to you, my heart, and I cannot apologize. I don’t want to. I’m jealous, I’m jealous, I’m wretched.

You reach and grab me from behind, rubbing your slick, coating me in your wetness. I’m in shambles, baby, and can’t you tell? You hold me by the balls. I can’t see anything but you. I’m dying. You’re killing me. I enter you, dripping, bleeding. You whimper, backing up to meet me, and I bottom out. Being inside you like this, I’m burning in the last circle of hell. There’s nothing as agonizing, no form of torture more severe.

It’s here, like this, when I can truly lose myself entirely, where I can let go of any inhibitions; I am not a professor or a member of fuck all, or even a person, I’m nowhere near a man, surely, instead almost completely animal, because I fuck you, I’m getting what I want, I pistol into you, a mad thing, a predator, and I lean my body to cover yours, my mouth breathing hot over your ear, and you’re whining, you’re sobbing onto the carpet, where I’ve taken you over and over and over again, my perfect fucking girl, perfect little whore, how you fucking like it, yeah, just like this, helpless, desperate—yes, yes, please, please, God—I’m going to fucking ruin you, (Y/N), feel this fucking cock, so fucking full of me, baby—I’m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come, Chris, don’t stop, please, please, please—

“Stop begging,” I groan into your skin, biting your shoulder, lifting you entire as I shove myself in you. “Stop fucking begging. Clamp me. Drain me, baby, come on.”

“I can’t, I can’t—”

I’m digging into you, I’m scavenging, exorcizing. This is the roughest I’ve ever had you, and you’re taking it all so well. I’m swelling with pride, I feel so deeply for how your body receives me that I can’t hold out any longer. You let me come inside every time. I know you’re on the pill, but my mind races, primal instincts and caveman thoughts—you, swollen with my child, naked, always naked, as I slowly make love to you, staring into the face of my truth, my only right, the only thing I can never regret—you’re so goddamn beautiful it hurts.

“I love the way your come drips down my thighs,” you say breathless, lost in your lust. I’m still moving inside you, still so fucking horny for you. “I sound insane.”

I collapse next to you, but keep your back tight against my chest, lifting your leg to keep fucking into your warmth, unable to stop. Sweat runs down my brow. I’m never not impossibly hard for you. No matter how many times I have you, no matter how aggressive I am, how brutal—you take it all, you fucking amazing girl. My death.

“Tell me,” I rasp. “I could do this all night, (Y/N). Say the fucking word.”

You tilt your neck and kiss me. I salvage your mouth, run my tongue over the roof of it, and your hole engulfs me. Your pussy tightens, refuses to let go.

“Keep fucking me,” you whisper, avoiding my eyes, embarrassed. “I’m so close, Chris.”

“Tell me what you need, baby. Let me hear you.”

You mewl, and turn away from me. I quicken my pace again, this position allowing me to get deeper, and I do, I ram into you hard and fast, just how you like it, and your voice propels me, it drives me crazy, it wraps my arm around your neck and chokes.

“Your cock…I need it so bad, I crave it every night…please, Chris, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop…”

“That’s my fucking girl. Come on, baby, come on…”

I need to fucking taste you, I can’t wait any longer. I slip out of you, your wail of protest loud enough that I have to slap my palm over your mouth, slap your fucking face for disobeying the one rule I’ve set for you.

And then I dive right into your raw cunt. I slurp and lick and lap, so wet I have to reach down and stroke my dick, the sound of you so fucking filthy it’s pornographic. I growl and spit on my palm, masturbating to the sight in front of me. You climax with a gasp, and I persevere through all of it, keeping you still, but desperate for a last dip.

Once, twice, I slam back inside, and scramble to come on your stomach, thick spurts shooting out, my vision blurry, my chest heavy. A fucking mirage, covered in my cum, spent and destroyed. I love you. I love you.

“I’m goddamned obsessed with you,” I confess, falling back on my heels, breathing ruggedly, running a hand through my hair. You’re a mess all over. My fucking cumdoll. “I am a ruined man, (Y/N). I can’t think of nothing else except this. How I can spend the most amount of my time inside you.”

You laugh, and bite your lip, closing your legs on me. I slap them open, stare at what I created, a visceral feeling tearing through me. I want to cut you down, slip myself inside you, wear your skin as mine. I’m the insane one, not you. You were made to want, while my wishes condemn me.

“You’re never fucking leaving me,” I’m not proud to admit this toxic, acid thought. “I won’t survive it if you do. You’re stuck, do you understand? I’m not going to apologize, and I’ll never mention it again, but,” I rub my thumb on the inside of your thigh, braving a glance at your spent face. You’re scared, you love me. You’re afraid of the fact. “What we have… it’s not fucking normal, (Y/N). I can barely explain it myself. I need to fucking possess you, baby; I have terrible, god-forsaken thoughts of—of crawling inside your bones and carving a place for me there, a place I can never escape.”

I kiss your wet cheeks and wrap myself around you. I rest my head on your stomach, and close my burning eyes; I listen to your heartbeat, your deep breathing. You’re falling asleep, but still, your fingers reach down and soothe my demons away. I’m so devastated by you, (Y/N). I have ruined my entire life to have you. It is the highest form of happiness, the worst imaginable punishment. I need you like I need my own breath.

I drift off with my cock erect, and tears running down my face. It will never be easy, will it? Being close to you.

It shakes the very fucking foundation of me.

They find out eventually, as we always knew they would.

The board of trustees propose a meeting, a formality, really, since I’m well aware of the rules of the school, and the ethical standpoint of these kinds of things. I’m the big bad monster that seduced you, and you hold no power over me. What do they fucking know, as I stare each of them in the eye and accept their decision. What do they fucking know. You haven’t come to class in four days. Are you okay? Are you embarrassed of us?

“Seeing as you are both adults, I’m sure we can end this unfortunate event amicably. Miss (Y/L/N) will willingly withdraw from your class, and you will be taking an extensive absence of leave for the rest of the semester. The council’s vote was unanimous on this—as a brilliant established member of the university, and a graduate of it, as such, we find it a grave disadvantage to us to let you go. Therefore, an exception has been made. Do you agree with this?”

I have no choice. I pray for whoever tipped off the Chancellor that I never find them. A severe thought crosses my mind—they’ve taken you from me. How will I be able to see you now? What will become of us if we are found disregarding their rules again? Surely death. I couldn’t possibly bear a different kind of separation, one where I lose you beyond just the classroom. It’s unimaginable and it fills me with a freezing dread, a pure horror that I feel down to my fucking core.

“Will you guarantee that this will be kept under wraps? (Y/N)—Miss (Y/L/N) is an exceptional student, one that does not deserve the public outrage something like this would cause her,” I keep my face straight, my expression contained. “It was a mishap, a lack of judgment on my part, nothing more. She remains a brilliant girl, and I wish for nothing more than to see her excel and graduate with utmost respect.”

“Of course. This is a private matter. But, Mr. Bahng, if we receive a similar document again… you understand our position, surely?”

One last time. I need to see you one last time.

“Certainly. Thank you for your time.”

Your phone sends me straight to voicemail. I’m not brave enough to try your dorm room, not with all those girls in there and their judgy eyes, and you refuse to step foot in my class even though you still have two lectures before we’re both to leave. They must’ve told you it was better to stay away for a bit, as to not make it so obvious, and yet I cannot for the life of me see the logic behind you being so far away from me, where I can’t reach you.

I’ve told you this. It won’t end well if I lose you.

I am over myself. I look for you everywhere. I see you in everything, in my dreams, to what little I manage to sleep, in the corners of my office, all the places I’ve had you writhing underneath me, your seat in the very front now occupied by that stupid boy—they all seem to know. Not for certain, but it’s in the glint of their eyes, the silences your voice would fill with such certainty it would steal my fucking breath away.

I ignore them all. I DON’T HAVE YOU, I want to scream at them. My worst nightmare came true, and I can only remember your sweet laugh as I’d bite on your neck, your honey exclamation—oh, it tickles!—as I did it over and over again. I can only remember the warmth of your cunt, the vivid smell of it, and your heart, the fluttering of it against my chest, how I held you to me, and you were safe from all of them, how we should’ve stayed in that office and never unlocked the door.

Leave a message after the tone. Beep.

“Answer your fucking phone, (Y/N). You’re driving me crazy.”

A day later, there you are, getting coffee, a book in your hand, your entire face smiling, so kind it messes with my head, the inner workings of my chest cavity.

I watch you from afar, notice how absentminded you look, how ignorant I must’ve been those past few days thinking this all hasn’t meant a thing to you, because it’s always been in the little things your face makes. Your tells, the things that give you away. How you listen without having heard a thing, how you play with your hair when you’re nervous. I’ve noticed them all, my love, and I can tell right now, that you’re thinking of me.

I think of approaching you, of showing myself to you, but it’s too soon. I can’t walk up to you in public, not on campus. I weigh the risk, the consequences—they’re the same, they haven’t changed, because to me this was always the outcome, this was always the end of us.

I call your name in my grief. Only to myself, a gentle summoning, just so I can pretend your name still belongs in my mouth. It does. It always will.

You do not see me. Or, if you do, you pretend not to. I can’t be sure which hurts more. You shatter me.

I try again the next day, a Saturday. As soon as we’re out of school grounds, a good distance away, I pinch the fabric of your jacket, jilting you. You turn around terrified—this is how I feel, I want to yell and shake you.

Alone, lost, in a labyrinth where I cannot find myself, I cannot find you. Endless loops, unbearable darkness.

“We can’t do this,” you say immediately, flinching away from me. From me. I’m ugly then, I’m dangerous, I can’t seem to control my temper. “I told you we can’t do this.”

I lunge for you, I grab your face in my hands, and force your ruinous eyes to look into my blind ones. I’ve seen nothing since that night we slept together. I’ve been walking around without knowing what day it is, without direction.

“I’ve called you,” I rasp. “Where’s your goddamn phone?”

“I didn’t want to talk to you.”

Oh, my baby. You’re sick with grief, aren’t you? Just like me. Your eyes are raw underneath all that black liner.

Still, I ask, “Why?”

You place your hands on top of mine, and remove them slowly. I cherish even your rejection. At least you’re here, in front of me, corporeal and talking to me.

“I got off easy,” you admit, head dropping in regret. “I didn’t know what they did to you, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“I can’t be near you. They sent me on ‘vacation’.”

You nod, and it takes every last bit of willpower to not smash you into my chest and keep you there, safe and sound.

“It will never be the same between us, will it?” You sound so eternally sad. I want to fix it. Fix all of it.

But I can’t. And it eats me alive.

“It will not.” In admitting this, I lose a piece of myself. My heart wails.

Look at me again, (Y/N). Meet me halfway and I’ll always choose you. Nothing has changed for me. Meet my eyes, see that I love you. That I’ve loved you from the beginning, that I was made to love you, that nothing ever existed before you, and that I cannot see in front of me.

“Then, we should end it.”

No. No.

“If we end it once and for all here—”

“I won’t,” I say, keeping my hands to myself, biting down my anger, the pain rising up to choke me. “End it? What does that—I’ve buried myself in you, (Y/N). You’re in me like my own fucking spirit. End it? This will never end. We can never end.”

I got you crying now. As much as it tugs at me, I’m glad of your tears. They show you care, that you don’t really believe the bullshit words coming out of your mouth. I won’t hear any of it, I fucking won’t. You reach for any part of me to hold, fingers lifting in desperate attempt, and I pull you to me by the nape of your neck, our bodies crushing, the wave coming up to meet the shore.

I’ll remain astute as you come and go. You don’t have any choice but to return. It’s where you belong. With me, I whisper in your hair. Stay with me.

“To what end?” You mumble, your voice broken with emotion.

I bring my other arm around you, hold you close against me. “Ours. Until I’m dead. There’s no one else for me, baby. You. It’s always gonna be you.”

You won’t hear any of it. “I can’t ask you to do this for me, Chris.”

I silence you, kiss your forehead, your eyelids. “This is for me. I’m the fucking— I’m the selfish son of a bitch that can’t quit you. If it happens again, I’ll resign,” I made a promise to myself then. “I’ll resign and wait for you to graduate. Once you do, we’ll leave this damned place and go wherever you want. I’ll take care of you, you know that right?”

You nod, and I feel your fists bunching the material of my shirt, as if being this impossibly close isn’t enough for you. As if you’d wear my own clothes if you could, coexist in this body of mine. That’s all I’ve been asking for, you know. To somehow become one entity, to never have to part from you.

Why were our souls split? Not ours, I think bitterly. Ours should’ve never parted. What a cataclysmic event it must’ve been.

“I’ll rent an apartment, I’ll leave campus,” I whisper my plans to you, as we walk along the maple trees wrapped in each other’s arms. “It’ll be ours, you can come whenever you please. You’ll have your own key.”

“I’ll buy my stupid couch and a matching coffee table,” you laugh softly, and I’m ready. I’m sure about this.

I need you to be happy like this, to not have a care in the world. I’ll make it happen, I fucking swear it to you, my heart.

“And the island chairs, and ridiculous knick knacks that I won’t have a say over?”

Your unadulterated giggles set me on fire. “All of them, yes! It’ll be out of an IKEA catalog.”

All I want, all I want—my very soul beats this. A life with you. Beyond the class. It’s always been beyond it.

I say this to you that evening, as I make love to you in a borrowed bed, my name coming from your lips still the sweetest sound I’ve ever had the privilege to hear. My heart’s song, the greatest one. The rise and fall of your breath. My own. Its unique composition.

I love you. I love you so much my chest bleeds open with the truth of it. I’ll gladly run dry at your feet.

“You’re everything, (Y/N). You’re everything.”

Nothing will ever take you from me. Not even death itself. Especially death.

I will find you there as well, if I have to.

#bang chan scenarios #bang chan smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids #bang chan #chan scenarios #skz scenarios #skz smut #chan smut #bang chan fanfic #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #—mine.

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elllisaaa · 4 months

Text

TEACHER'S PET - J. YUNHO

SUMMARY : being a fan of Jane Austen's novels, you should have guessed that your attraction for complicated love stories would put you in trouble at some point. but you wouldn't have imagined that the trouble in question would be named Jeong Yunho - your favourite professor.

-> pairing : literature professor!yunho x student fem!reader

-> words count : 30.4 k

-> genre : college au, smut & angst

-> warnings (w. some spoilers of the plot) : soft!dom!yunho x sub!reader, teasing, dirty talk, praising, marking, hair pulling, doggy, protected and unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, use of 'good girl' and 'slut', oral (f. and m. receiving), deep throating, cum play, manhandling, fingering, begging, riding, semi-public sex, yunho has a big cock, hand kink, facefucking, drunk sex, yunho is calling reader angel (yes, that's a warning), age gap (8 years), mention of fwb relationship w. san, cheating, mentions of family issues, self-depreciation

+ the way i'm depicting yunho does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> author's note : should i say sorry for the enormous word count ? maybe. will i apologize ? not at all because i'm so fucking proud of this fic. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written, i quite fell in love with reader this time lmaoo. i started the process of the plot back in january, and it took me more than 3 months to write this but it's amazing in my opinion, so i hope you'll like it as much as i loved writting it ! also that is such a detail but yes, prices are in euros in this fic because i'm french and i cannot physically write dollars and not feel weird, i'm sorry, bear with it. i should also say sorry for the angst but it don't wanna either, i already cried to myself when i put it into words, it's your turn to suffer.

-> playlist : older by isabel larosa - white mustang by lana del ray - crazy in love by sofia carlberg - middle of the night by elley duhé - reflections by the neighborhood - daddy issues by the neighborhood - babydoll by ari abdul - easier by bernard park - i love you by billie eilish

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist

Jeong Yunho had been the big sensation and the object of all conversations since he started teaching at your university. It was during your freshman year that he joined your college as the new professor of British literature. And honestly, just knowing that you wouldn’t be forced to listen to an old man repeating the same story about how he almost won the Pulitzer Prize twenty years ago over and over was already a relief. But the fact that your new teacher was also very attractive did get you even more interested in his classes.

Of course, at first, you were like all the other girls on campus, gushing over how handsome Mr. Jeong was, and how well the suits he always wore were perfectly fitting his tall frame. But you quickly discovered a dedicated and very good professor. He helped your whole promotion to go over all the things your old teacher should have presented to you, and thanks to him, you passed your exams. So even if you couldn’t ignore that he was very, very hot, you were mostly glad to have a professor as passionate as you about literature - his handsomeness was only the cherry on top.

Every time you had a class with him, you knew that this was about to be a good day, because they were always stimulating and never boring. And maybe, just maybe it was because you were always trying to contradict him. In your defense, Mr. Jeong always led you to approach a new subject with an interesting or controversial point of view, and you were often disagreeing, or had things to say about it. And since not many people in your class were really interested in British literature and were only here to admire your teacher for one or two hours, it was not rare for him and you to end up debating about anything and everything. And today was no exception.

“- What do you want me to say Y/N ? This is how things are, I can’t change them.

- Then you’ll have to convince me, Mr. Jeong.”

Your professor chuckled while shaking his head. You were always like this, always trying to get him to surrender and admit that you had the right answer. Yunho didn’t really understand if it was because you liked to be right or simply because you loved a little bit of challenge, but either way, he appreciated how attentive you were to his classes, and how you were trying to question everything every single time. It was stimulating for the class, for you, and even for him.

“- In this precise case, it is not my job to do that. The fact that you have your opinion on the subject is a very good thing, but there is no right or wrong answer. What we are trying to do here is simply to interpret what message Poe wanted to convey, we can never be sure if our interpretation is the one he had in mind. And I would love to continue this debate but it’s time for you to go, so don’t forget to read the extract of Wuthering Heights I gave you and I’ll see you next week.”

You rapidly packed up your things to run back to your dorms. Friday often meant a girl’s night out with your two best friends, and you wanted to have enough time to get ready. You three always got to the same bar where you met each other, one of the first nights you went out during your first year of college. You crossed paths with Lola first, the barmaid having messed up both of your cocktail orders. And both of you clicked instantly, despite her being two years older than you. At one point, while you were dancing together, you noticed a girl alone being clearly annoyed by a guy who repeatedly tried to touch her. So your new friend and you acted like you knew her and forced the guy to go away. It turned out that the girl you had kind of saved, Dia, was in the same major as you. You ended up spending the night all together and you kept in touch after that.

And despite Lola having finished her studies before Dia and you, she stayed around the city because of her work. So once in a while, you took the opportunity to go out at the bar where you met. And tonight was one of those nights, and after the exhausting week you had, you kinda needed it anyway. Your roommate, Dajeong, helped choose your outfit and you got ready together because she was also going out with some of her friends, chatting about your days and the new rumours about the basketball team. And of course, you had to dress up a little, putting on a skimpy, little black dress that did wonders to underline the curves of your body. During these concert nights you were going to, there were always a lot of pretty attractive men playing instruments, and that kinda got you going. So you didn’t put away the thought of finishing the night in someone else’s bed.

Dia picked you up to go to the bar where you joined Lola and immediately ordered your favourite drink. It felt good to finally rest after the awful week you had. It all started on Monday, when you slept in and missed your first class of the morning. And because you had to rush to the second, you forgot your lunch at home and the charger of your laptop. On Thursday, you forgot about the work session you had with some of your classmates for a group project and arrived late. And finally one of your professors claimed to be disappointed in you because you handed him your assignment one hour late because you had an unplanned class at the due date. So yeah, you really needed this drink with your friends.

“- So I didn’t warn you beforehand, but I’m gonna sing on stage tonight !”

You looked at Lola, dumfounded, while Dia squealed excitedly beside you. Your older friend had tried to make her music known for the past year and it was finally starting to work out for her. Lola was incredibly talented, so you were certain that she would succeed and you were also very very happy for her, a big smile stretching your lips as you gave her a hug.

“- Girl ! That’s incredible ! I’m so proud of you, you deserve it !”

Dia joined your hug, the three of you giggling.

“- I’m so fucking exited, we were waiting for it !”

It was still a little early, but the bar was already filled with people, and even if it was still pretty cold outside, you were immediately hit by a wave of heat as soon as you stepped in. You really loved the atmosphere of these kinds of nights, where everyone was friendly because they were only there to spend a good time. Lola had to go backstage to get ready, but you quickly stumbled on some of Dia’s friends with whom you talked for a while and since the vibes matched, you decided to stay together to enjoy the concert. One guy had particularly tried to get your attention, and you weren’t mad about it with how good he looked. He was very tall, and could seem intimidating but whenever he smiled or laughed, you could see how kind and sweet he was. While he was saying something to one of his friends, you quickly tapped on Dia’s shoulder.

“- Hey, what’s the name of your friend that’s very tall ?”

She answered you with a smirk, and mischievous glint in his eyes when she leaned towards you.

“- Why ? Does he interest you ?

- Maybe. So ?

- His name’s Mingi. Have fun girl.”

You slapped her arm lightly, rolling your eyes at her comment. But truly, you didn’t mind the playful bantering between the two of you, loving it even. You let her go back to her conversation while you offered yourself and Mingi another drink since you had finished your beer long ago. It happened that Mingi was just as interesting as you thought he would be, and you even spent the first few performances of the night simply talking with him, too immersed in the discussion to acknowledge your surroundings. It’s only when Lola got up on stage that you started to pay attention, cheering for her after she introduced herself to the public.

And honestly, she nailed it, hyping the crowd like she did that for her whole life. Dia and you surely clapped and screamed for her the loudest. Lola came to you as soon as she got off the stage, hugging both of you and thanking you for coming to see her and cheering for her. She looked the happiest when she was singing, and you couldn’t be more proud of her as all of Dia’s friends were congratulating and praising her. And from this point on, you didn’t have many clear memories, only knowing that you got drink after drink, getting more comfortable with each one.

Usually, you wouldn’t be all over someone you had just met, but Mingi was really a good guy, he was attractive and you were drunk, so you didn’t mind the way he was kissing you shamelessly, only kissing him back and letting him roam his hands all over your body. But as always when you were tipsy, your mind was jumping from one thing to another. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t see neither Lola nor Dia around anymore, all you wanted was another drink right now.

“- I’m gonna get one more beer, want one ?”

Mingi tried to stop you when you got up, stumbling a little while standing on your feet, the world spinning all around you.

“- Don’t you think you already drank enough Y/N ?

- You’re cute worrying about me ! I’m okay ! I’ll be back in a minute !”

You were practically screaming, and even with the loud music and voices of people around you, you were very loud, making your way over to the bar while chuckling to yourself the whole time. You dropped onto one of the stools in front of the bar, ordering yourself another beer. It’s only when you turned your head on your right side that you noticed someone you knew quite well.

“- Mr. Jeong !”

The said Mr. Jeong was straddled by your loud voice and even more by your body colliding with his as you kind of dropped your weight on him, circling him with your arms as if you were trying to hug him. For a few seconds, your teacher remained frozen in place, not knowing how to react, before his brain seemed to reactivate again, and pushed you off of him, holding you by your shoulders. Only a quick look at your flushed cheeks, lazy smile and glossy eyes was enough for him to guess that you were drunk.

“- Y/N ?

- That’s me ! What are you doing here though ? Teachers are not supposed to go out !”

Yunho couldn’t help but laugh quietly at your behaviour. You were always so neat and put together during his classes, always so focused and organised. So to see you let loose like this, wearing a skimpy little dress, obviously very drunk and your speech so slurred it was actually hard to understand you, was really a shock.

“- You’ll be surprised to know that I have a life outside of being your teacher.”

Yunho knew that he shouldn’t find the pout on your lips cute, but he did.

“- ‘m not surprised, you too hot to be a teacher.”

He blamed the alcohol for the way his heart started beating faster at your comment, and even more when you leaned against him once again, breathing in his scent.

“- ‘m so tired…

- Where are your friends ? Maybe they can get you home.

- Don’t know…”

You were starting to feel really dizzy. And not the kind of daze when you’re just feeling the agreable effects of all the drinks you had, it was the kind of daze when you’re starting to feel bad, when your head starts to hurt and all you want is your bed and silence. Yunho tried to observe the crowd and spot the friends he usually saw you hanging with around campus, but no one was in sight. So he stood up, paying for his last drink, before helping you walk towards the exit.

“- Where we going ?

- I’m driving you home. You’re clearly drunk and you lost your friends, it’s not safe for you to stay here alone.”

You were too far gone to be embarrassed about your behaviour, or to resist too much, so you let your professor drag you to his car and help you get inside, even buckling up your seat belt for you. You only find it in yourself to give him your address, and text Dia to warn her that you were getting home before dozing off. Yunho had to wake you up when he parked in front of your dorm.

“- We’re here, Y/N.”

You whined, claiming you were comfortable and didn’t want to move, that it was cold outside and the heat in his car was far much better. Yunho sighed while getting out of the car. Helping one of his drunk students get home was not really on his bingo card of the week, but he couldn’t risk you getting in a dangerous situation. He opened the car door on your side after having taken off his jacket, handing it to you as he helped you get out of the vehicle. No words were exchanged as you put on the black leather jacket that was obviously ten times too big for you, drowning your silhouette inside of it. But you could feel the warmth that Yunho’s body had left, and it made the cold of the wind outside less chilly.

“- You will be alright to get inside alone ?”

You nobbed your head, the nap you took during the way back to your dorm having sobered you up a little. Now, all you wanted was to wrap yourself in your sheets because you were starting to feel the second-hand embarrassment of this whole situation.

“- Thank you Mr. Jeong.

- You’re welcome Y/N, drink water and take a lot of rest, okay ?”

You nobbed once again, feeling your cheeks heating up when he pressed your shoulder lightly. You didn’t find anything to answer so you decided to simply get inside, not seeing how Yunho kept an eye on you until he was sure you got inside, and only did he drive off. When you pushed the door open, Dajeong was not back from her party yet, so you were met with a silence that instantly eased your headache. You rummaged through the drawers of the kitchen to find some painkillers and a glass of water, gulping the medication down before heading straight to your room. You hadn’t the energy to take off your makeup, nor your outfit, slipping in bed with Yunho’s jacket still on. But it smelled good, it was so warm, like a little cocoon you loved to be wrapped into. And maybe that was why you dreamed of him that night.

The days after this hell of a night, you were hit with the most terrible feeling of embarrassment and guilt you’ve ever felt. Embarrassment because it was definitely what you should feel after having to be driven home by one of your teachers because you were too drunk, and at that, a very attractive and smart teacher - and also your favourite one. Also to be seen in a state like this by him had you mortified. You always tried to remain serious and professional in front of Mr. Jeong, and you never wanted your personal life to interfere like that with your studies. Guilt because he was certainly there to enjoy his own night out and you wrecked that by forcing him to look after you like a little child. You even threw a tantrum because it was too cold, and every time you saw the jacket you even had the audacity to sleep into, you felt even more bad and ashamed of yourself. You didn’t even dare tell Dia and Lola who helped you get home, claiming it was only a guy you knew.

You also didn’t want rumors to spread. They were fast to go around students, and if you handed Mr. Jeong his jacket back after his class, it would have been enough for people to believe that you two were in a relationship. So you decided to go and see him after his classes in his office, to be sure that you wouldn’t be bothered. You had buried his jacket at the bottom of your bag, as if everyone had X-Ray vision and could see what was inside, walking as fast as you could through the hallways. You had done nothing wrong, but it still felt like it and you had to mentally prepare yourself for the conversation that was going to happen.

The door was open when you arrived at his office, but you still knocked on it lightly to signal your presence. Mr. Jeong immediately looked up from the assignments he was grading, smiling when he saw it was only you.

“- Come on in Y/N, and close the door behind you.”

You were fairly unable to utter a word, sticking to nodding your head as you did what he told you. Usually, when you came to his office, you would immediately sit down, but you didn’t feel at ease at all today, too shameful to even look at Mr. Jeong in the eyes.

“- Do you feel better than this weekend ? You didn’t seem very well yesterday either.”

The fact that he was still worrying about you was making you feel even more uncomfortable.

“- Uh, yes, thank you. Actually I came by to apologise for my behaviour. I was very drunk, and I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. Thank you so much for driving me home, and again, I’m sorry for how I acted and if I said anything disrespectful to you. And here’s your jacket, I washed it for you. And again, I’m so, so sorry.”

You got the jacket out of your bag, putting it on his desk, neatly folded. Your heart was beating unsteady and your breathing was loud. You couldn’t even remember if you actually said anything weird to him, but knowing you and how you had no filter when you were wasted, you surely did. Mr. Jeong stood up to get his jacket back, hanging it on the back of his desk chair. The smile on his lips was reassuring and sweet, and he didn’t seem mad at all, but you couldn’t help the anxiousness from taking over you.

“- It’s not that bad, it has already happened to everyone to be drunk and do stupid things, believe it or not, it happened to me too.

- To bother your teacher because you were completely wasted ?”

Yunho chuckled at your remark, and he was happy to see a small smile spread on your face too. You were always trying to not look him in the eyes since the beginning of the week, and you seemed very embarrassed when Yunho didn’t want you to be. He did that out of kindness, because you were one of his favourite students and also because he couldn’t let you alone when you were in this state, he couldn’t have looked at himself in a mirror if he had let you without anyone to look after you when you were so vulnerable.

“- Maybe not, but you get my point. It didn’t bother me, and you didn’t say anything strange, don’t worry. We can just forget all about that if you prefer, but I can assure you that you did not do anything wrong Y/N, I’m just happy I was able to get you home safely.”

Your shoulders immediately relaxed, and it was as if you could breathe more easily. You knew that your professor was honest, that he wouldn’t lie to you about something like that.

“- Thank you so much for taking care of me. I gotta go for my next class now, but really, I’m very grateful Mr. Jeong.

- No problem, just be more careful next time.

- Of course. Have a good day !”

He greeted you back, watching as you left his office and closed the door behind you. And finally, Yunho allowed himself to slump back in his desk chair, sighing loudly. He didn’t lie to you, didn’t tell you that to make you feel better. Except the fact that you did say that you found him hot. That compliment really messed up with his mind. You were always so serious and focused during his classes, and of course, it was obvious you wouldn’t spend your weekends locked up in your room, but seeing you like this was so new, so unusual. The way you looked at him, the way you touched him, the way your dress was riding your thighs up, the way his jacket was now smelling like your intoxicating perfume - the scent of you invading the room little by little. Everything about this was making him see you in a whole different light.

The only thing Yunho promised himself when he became a professor was to never, ever, find one of his students attractive. Maybe it was because he was young, and much closer to your age when he started teaching, and that he quickly noticed the eyes some of the girls were giving him. Anyway, he swore on his dignity and morals that he would never have this type of thoughts about a student. But now that he got to see you in your skimpy black dress, which was hugging every one of your curves perfectly, while looking him in the eyes and confessing how hot he was may have him reconsidering his decision.

He knew he shouldn’t see you this way, he knew he shouldn’t search your profile on instagram, knew that he shouldn’t look at your photos nor check you out in your pretty little outfits that you loved to post. But he did it anyway, scrolling through your account as if he was a teenager all over again. And when he stumbled over the photos you posted this summer, body on display in your little bikinis, he knew he had to stop before his thoughts started to drift to places he shouldn’t. Because it was dirty, it was disgusting and he shouldn’t think about you, his student, this way. This should have been enough to stop his mind from going back to this night, but it didn’t. And Yunho felt incredibly bad for not being able to control himself.

You felt a little better since your conversation with Mr. Jeong, reassured that you did not say anything weird to him, and that you haven’t made him uncomfortable. That didn’t ease your mind from the fact that you slept in his jacket and even had the nerves to feel cosy because you were surrounded by his scent. But you tried your best to forget it all, just like he advised you to, even if you had to be honest and admit that you did often think about the way he held you by your waist when he helped you walk to his car.

You shook your head as you tried to concentrate back on the synopsis of the book you had in hand right now. You decided to go to a book shop with Dia this afternoon after your classes. It was something you loved to do together from time to time, always promising yourself that you won’t buy anything but coming back home with at least one new book anyway. You were not paying attention to your surroundings, entirely focused on the book you were looking at, and you didn’t feel it when someone came up behind you.

“- I see that you’re very dedicated to my classes Y/N.”

You turned around quickly, not needing to see him to recognize the familiar voice of your teacher. He was standing there, dressed more casually than the usual suits he was always wearing for class, only in black pants and a creamy sweater. You tried not to make the blush on your face obvious as you composed yourself before answering.

“- Well, your recommendations are always great Mr. Jeong, so I might listen to you once again. But only if it gets me one bonus point on my next assignment.”

Yunho couldn’t help the cheeky smile that spreaded on his face whenever you teased him. It wasn’t the behaviour students should have towards their teacher, but he liked it too much to ask you to stop.

“- You know very well that I don’t get corrupted this easily.

- And if I bring you some chocolate ?

- Then I might reconsider your proposal.”

You were ready to add something when you were interrupted by the loud ringtone of your phone. You excused yourself and turned around to answer the call. Yunho didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation with a certain “Sannie”, but at the same time, if it was that private, you would’ve walked away, right ? He wondered if you were used to giving surnames like that to every one of your friends or if this guy could be your boyfriend. But why would that interest him in the first place anyway ? It wasn’t like he cared if you were single or taken. And it was none of his business, but still, the question slipped past his lips when you hung up.

“- Was that your boyfriend ?

- Oh, no, not at all ! San is my best friend, he has been since we were kids.”

Yunho only nodded, already feeling the second-hand embarrassment of asking such a personal and inappropriate question. He needed to get out of here so you didn’t notice the way his ears were heating up, and you gave him the perfect opportunity to do just that.

“- I have to go but I’ll get this one.

- Feel free to share your thoughts about it.

- I’ll do it, thank you. Have a good day Mr. Jeong.

- You too Y/N.”

And you left with a warm smile, asking yourself if you would have a stranger interaction than this one in your life. How come that one of the most handsome men you’ve ever met, who also happened to be your teacher, wanted to know about your love life ? You didn’t know how to handle this fact, didn’t know why he asked you that either. But it was messing with your head, making you think about things you shouldn’t, about things you never even considered before this night. Well, that was a bit of lying to yourself. Because you did think about him in this light before, did dream about him touching you in such inappropriate ways for a teacher and his student. But you pushed these thoughts away, not ready to dig into why he was making you feel like that and wouldn’t leave your mind.

And Yunho couldn’t help thinking the same : how he didn’t see you like that before having you all pliant in his hold, before seeing you wearing your little black dress, before hearing you calling him hot. But if he was honest with himself, he did think that you were pretty during the first class you had with him. He did think on numerous occasions that you were smart and the kind of person he would love to go out with. But he couldn’t. Because he was your teacher, and because he was a lot much older than you. It would be inappropriate.

Even with all of these considerations in mind, Yunho couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you every time you stepped a foot into his classroom. He tried to be as subtle as possible because he didn't want to make this situation even weirder than it already was, especially for you. Little did he know you did the same, observing him every time he wasn’t looking your way, struggling to not blush whenever you felt his eyes on you. And Yunho kept telling himself that he couldn’t do that, that it was not right to look at you the way he did, to think about the things he was thinking about every time his eyes landed on you. But he couldn’t stop it. It felt wrong, but for some kind of reason, he was unable to forget about you.

“- Did the Mr. Jeong hype finally get to your head ?”

You wiped your head towards Dia, heart beating unsteady. She couldn’t know about what happened almost three weeks ago, right ? No she couldn't have guessed, except maybe if someone saw him driving you home. But your friend only chuckled and slapped your arm when she saw the defeated expression on your face.

“- You look like you saw a ghost ! It’s alright bestie, I wouldn’t judge you for finding him handsome, it’s a fact everyone already established.

- Why are you saying that now ?

- Because you’ve become very distracted whenever we have classes with him, and you don’t participate as much as before. Is it because you finally see him like we all do ?”

You groaned and shook your head, but Dia was too close to the truth to not unsettle you. You knew that you did nothing wrong, that it was normal to think that your obviously very attractive teacher was, in fact, very attractive. But you couldn’t kill the guilt creeping in every time you looked at his hands handing back the papers a little too long, or when you caught yourself wondering if his skin smelt as good as his leather jacket did.

“- First, I’ve never said that he isn’t good looking, and second, I have enough decency to not drool over him during said classes.”

Lie. It was a complete lie. But Dia didn’t need to know that. She didn’t need to know that your professor had invaded your thoughts in a way you didn’t think would be possible, and in a way that was definitely not appropriate.

“- Decency doesn’t exist when he enters the equation.”

She was not entirely wrong, but you couldn’t let her win, because it would be like admitting to yourself that you did thirst over your teacher, more than you would like to. Luckily for you, Yunho quickly started his class and strangely enough, for the first time since the bar incident, you succeeded in following everything he was saying and not getting too distracted by his hands, or by his smile.

“- Before I let you go, I wanted to inform you that I decided to create a debate club. I’m aware of what you must all think about these : that they are boring and never pick the subjects you want to discuss. That’s why you’ll be the ones to propose the subjects we will tackle, and you’ll be free to talk about anything you want. It can be music, politics, literature - anything. As long as you respect each others’ opinions, it’s okay for me. If you’re interested, write your name on the sheet on my desk before leaving and that’s all for today. Thank you for your attention, and have a good day.”

Conversations about Mr. Jeong’s propositions were already erupting all around the classroom. You spotted some serious students you already had study sessions with writing down their names, and a bunch of girls who just wanted to check out the teacher for one more hour per week. Dia already warned you that she didn’t have the time to engage in such activities, but you thought it couldn’t be that bad of an idea. After all, you really loved to discuss with people, and this was the perfect occasion to do so. And no, it was not because your professor will be there. Not at all. It only happened that he will animate the whole thing, it was only a coincidence. You got a pen out of your bag and started to write down your name when his now familiar voice interrupted you.

“- I could’ve bet on this.”

You didn’t dare lift your head and meet his gaze, because locking eyes with him in class was one thing - he was far away from you - but having him so close to you suddenly made you nervous.

“- Am I so predictable ?

- A little, but I’m not complaining. I know that at least one person will actually come and that I will not be alone.”

This time, you had no other choice but to look at him as you had finished writing your name and had no excuse to look at the piece of paper anymore. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this, but your heart still missed a beat when your eyes finally dived into his. You quickly avoided his gaze, pretending to put your pen back in your bag while you searched in your brain to offer him a clever response.

“- You know me, I’m always here when it comes to debating.

- I wouldn’t have expected less from you Y/N.”

The way he said your name shouldn’t have made you blush, but it did. You rapidly excused yourself before literally running away from the classroom and all these feelings that shouldn’t invade your mind. It even made you hesitate on your decision to join the debate club. But you didn’t want Mr. Jeong to think that you were not serious. So you went anyway. And even if, as you predicted, not that many people showed up, you still had a good time. You were even able to not think about him in ways you shouldn’t too often. That was until he insisted on giving you all his personal phone number, so he could organise things more easily and give you the opportunity to see museums or expositions you could later discuss on. That was a perfectly sensible decision, obviously.

However, that night when you laid in your bed and couldn’t fall asleep, your fingers hovered over his contact. It was stupid to even think about it. Why would you even send him a text ? And to say what ? Ask him if he had a good day ? Or if he planned anything for the next reunion ? It was stupid, yeah. But you were one click away from sending a text. You threw your phone to the other side of your bed, running your hands over your face. You were so stupid. Stupid for thinking about Jeong Yunho as anything else than your teacher, stupid for thinking that he would even look your way, stupid for thinking that you were any different from all the girls who were swooning over him. You were just like them and even worse.

The next meeting with the debate club came too quickly for your liking as you were not mentally prepared enough to see the teacher you couldn’t help thinking about all day long. But this was not what occupied your mind today. No. It was this one girl who thought that she was always right just because she said so. Ever since Mr. Jeong announced that the subject was going to be about music and the sense of community it could create, she hadn't shut up, interrupting everyone as if her opinion was more important. And she wouldn’t stop whining about the fact that music was too commercial these days and that there was nothing original anymore, when her playlist was essentially composed of trending songs and Taylor Swift (not that you had something against the girl, you loved some of her songs, but she was far from not being commercial.) And when you tried to argue that, no, music was not only commercial, that there were still good artists and groups that did it because they truly enjoyed and loved making music, she would get mad. Everytime someone else would defend your point of view, she would accuse them of teaming up against her.

And you were actually a little mad at your teacher for not jumping in and telling something to this girl who was clearly being unreasonable. You ended up saying that you didn’t want to talk anymore, because even if you were not one to give up, you clearly noticed that you couldn’t win this time. You spent the rest of the debate sulking and stealing glances at Mr. Jeong, who was just observing the chaos. You didn’t understand why he would not intervene, and yes, you got that he wanted to let everyone express their opinions, but was it relevant in this case ? You packed up your things rather quickly ; this whole situation put you into a bad mood, and you just wanted to forget it.

“- Y/N ? Are you alright ?”

His voice straddled you as he came closer to you, letting all the other students go out behind the two of you.

“- Oh, uh, yeah, I’m good. Just a little frustrated, but it’s alright.

- I understand, but this moment is also made for that, even if you’re not agreeing with her, you have to respect it.

- I know, I don’t have a problem with her not being on my side, I just don’t like it when people victimise themselves to make me feel bad and let them have the last word. That’s not what a debate is about.”

You tried to stay focused on your bottle of water in your hands, and to not stare at him too much. He was wearing one of his black suits once more, and even more since the bar incident, it was doing something to you.

“- Well, I can’t say you’re wrong, but not everyone here is as mature as you are. You have to take it into consideration. And it is by talking with people like you that people like her will get it and grow up.”

You shrugged, turning your head to the side because you couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. You knew deep down that he was right, but you were too frustrated to admit it right now.

“- I’ll let you sleep on that Y/N, but don’t let it deter you from coming next time, your interventions are important and I value them. A lot.”

You nodded before saying your goodbyes and quite literally running away from him, once again. He couldn’t make you feel so frustrated you wanted to break something, and the next second made your heart beat like crazy. Because his words surely did. You knew by the way he was often relying on your answers in class that he must appreciate you as a student, but to be aware that he also liked who you were as a person was something else. It was getting bad, really bad, because you couldn’t keep under control the feelings he made appear in you. And you knew it was wrong, knew that he was your teacher, knew that he probably - surely - didn’t feel the same, but you were already in too deep.

And Yunho couldn’t help thinking the same as he watched you go away. He shouldn’t feel such attraction for his students, and he shouldn’t try to get closer to you, and he shouldn’t try to do all these things that led you to be alone with him. But still, he chose the next subject because he knew he would get a reaction out of you, because he knew it would get you all passionate about it and he loved when you were like this.

He didn’t miss his shot because you were the first to talk when he announced that today’s session will be about Jane Austen and feminism. Yunho knew she was one of your favourite authors as you often quoted her in your assignments and used her novels as examples, so he was even aware of your opinion on them. Thus as he was regularly doing during his classes, he decided to go against your views, just to see how you would react. It was wrong to do it only to see you get passionate and involved and slightly mad at him - because you both knew that he already told you that he agreed with your ideas.

“- I understand what you’re saying Y/N, but the fact that Austen never got married but still insisted on talking about marriage in every one of her novels could also show that it was a dream of hers, and not feminism.”

Again, you were feeling so frustrated against your teacher. But this time, it was directed straight to him. You couldn’t figure out why he would do this, nor why he was so dedicated to debating with you in particular, and not with all the other students that were agreeing with you.

“- On this aspect, her personal life has nothing to do with it. On the contrary, it reinforces what she’s showing. In Pride and Prejudice for example, Lizzie doesn’t accept Darcy’s proposal until he changes and really proves that he loves her. Plus Darcy doesn’t do all these things so she would agree to marry him, he does it only because he loves her truly. She depicts marriage as something you should do out of love, the only happy marriages in her novels are the ones where the two parties are in love with each other. Like Jane and Bingley, and you can contrast with Lydia and Wickham and how their union is never shown as a good thing, for either them or the Bennets’. I think she never got married because she despised the men of her era, and that they wouldn’t meet her expectations, because she wanted a marriage of love, not of arrangement, or relationships or money. That’s why she is showing them so much in her books, because it reflects how she didn’t like the view on marriages during the Victorian era and the sexism she was surely enduring because of her being a writer and not trying to hide it.”

You barely breathed in between your sentences, and when you finally stopped talking, you felt like you just ran a marathon. Mr. Jeong’s gaze never left yours as you spoke, and the intensity of it was making butterflies come alive in your stomach. It was as if you could feel the tension emanating from him, from his eyes staring down at you. He seemed to snap out of his haze when someone voiced out their agreements to your little speech. And after that, he quieted down just as you did. But you could still feel him stealing glances at you, and you couldn’t help doing the same.

He was wearing another one of his suits - a three piece grey suit, with thin, white strips on it. He had let go of the jacket a long while ago, and had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. And you knew you shouldn’t find that attractive, but you did. You did and it was wrong ; because he was your teacher, and because you were supposed to be a little mad at him for refuting the obvious.

So like a replay of last week, you stayed back, taking your time to pack up your things and waiting until everybody else left to talk to him one on one. Maybe it wasn’t what a good and well behaved student should do, maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to do when you were feeling so attracted to him. Maybe. But you still carried on with your plan, trying to not get distracted by his handsome face, and his pretty hands arranging some papers on his desk.

“- Why do you keep on pushing me to justify myself like that ? It’s embarrassing, and everyone was so silent afterwards, it was as if I said something wrong, and it’s not agreeable to feel like you are being ridiculous.”

You never had enough nerves to talk to one of your professors like that, but maybe it was the fact that you had a pretty shitty week, or that the way he was looking at you had you feeling some ways you didn’t want to, but you felt a sudden rush of energy and courage coursing through your veins.

“- You did not say anything stupid Y/N, it was very clever on the contrary. And the reason I keep doing that is because I know you have it in you to argue with me and produce this kind of well organised speech. That’s where I want to bring all of my students, but you can always improve and develop your skills. This is what I’m training you for.

- I’m not practising to go to war, Mr. Jeong. All this is not necessary if it makes us feel bad. And why would you do that in front of other students when we already talked about this in class and they all saw you agree with me ?

- I told you, it’s only because I want you to be able to justify your answers with precise examples like you did today, because it’s important for your future assignments, for your thesis and even just in everyday life.

- But you know I’m already able to do all that, so why would you seek out my responses everytime ? It feels like you’re targeting me.”

Your cheeks were heating up as time went on, not only because you felt hot from the way all his attention was entirely focused on you, but also because you were so frustrated you could’ve yelled at him. But you had to remind yourself that he was your teacher and that you couldn’t be that disrespectful, that this was the closest you could get to having an argument with him without getting kicked out of your university. He had come closer to you as the discussion progressed, and the sudden proximity between your two bodies didn’t help with your red cheeks.

“- Yes, I’m targeting you, because I know you’re capable of coming up with things like this, and that you teach a lot to other people by doing so. I love to see you being passionate and invested in the subjects you’re talking about, it makes it fluid to listen to and to understand. Plus, that’s a debate club, disagreeing with you is my job here.”

You wanted to stay calm and collected so bad, wanted to stay as composed as he always was but you couldn’t help how he heightened all your emotions by his mere presence. And the compliments he was giving you didn’t help you relax either.

“- Yes, okay, but not when you said you approved my views two weeks ago just to change your mind now and make me look like I’ve been talking nonsense all this time.

- Don’t rely on me and my opinions Y/N, rely on you and what you’re thinking. Do not let other people dictate what you should think on a subject you know and love.

- I know that, I’m not dumb, but you’re not just everyone else. You’re my teacher and you know what you’re talking about while I don’t. I’m only making assumptions and theories when you give us facts. It’s not the same.

- I don’t know it all, what we're making when talking about books and authors who are not here to confirm or deny is always assumptions. You know that I agree with what you said, you know my opinion on Austen and that’s all that matters.

- But you made it look like what I was saying was irrelevant, you made me look like a fool and I don’t like it, especially when it’s coming from you.”

The two of you had gotten closer and closer, and you were now facing each other, with nothing in between to separate you anymore. Suddenly, you felt an overwhelming need to breathe in his scent, to take the step ahead that was distancing you from him and cut off the act.

“- What do you mean especially when it’s coming from me ?”

Your breath accelerated when Yunho stepped forward one more time, getting way much closer than decency would allow. But you didn’t make any movement to escape. Because deep down, you wanted this, you craved this. You saw his hand coming up to your face before feeling his fingers brushing against the skin covering your jaw, leading you to raise your head and dive into his eyes. You’ve never seen him from this angle, but with the light of the late afternoon casting shadows on his face, he had never looked prettier.

“- I asked you a question, Y/N.

- I… It’s inappropriate, I shouldn’t say it, I shouldn’t even think about it.”

Despite your words that should deter him from going any further, he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, smearing your lip gloss. You could hear your own heart beating, aware of every breath you took and every movement of your body. When your eyes met his once again, it was as if adrenaline was spreading through your veins, a sensation that gave you the impression that you were flying. Your gaze flicked down to his lips one second too long for him not to notice and that was Yunho’s last straw as he let his hands drop down to your waist.

“- I don’t think I should think about what is on my mind right now either.”

As if it was the hint you needed, you grabbed his neck to pull him down to your level. Your lips brushed against his one time, and the next time they met, it was for a real kiss. Yunho squeezed your waist tighter, tugging you closer to him as he let his desire take over his reason. He shouldn’t do that, but your lips tasted like the vanilla chapstick you were always putting on during his classes and that he was dying inside to kiss away.

It was like your mouth had a mind on its own, kissing your teacher like your life depended on it. You weren’t thinking about the fact that anybody could come in and interrupt you, you weren’t thinking about the fact that what you were doing was forbidden. All you felt was the softness of his hair between your fingers, his large hands on your lower back, and his tongue playing with yours. It all felt too good to stop.

“- Where are you going ?”

You were putting on your shoes when Dajeong’s voice interrupted you, a knowing smile on her lips. She knew very well where you were going every time you left late at night, during the weekends, she just wanted to tease you.

“- San invited me over, I’m gonna stay the night.

- Of course you are.”

She gave you a little slap on your ass before going back to the series she was watching on the living room TV. Usually, you would’ve laughed or been as excited as her to see your friend but not today. When San had proposed to you to come to his apartment to fool around, you weren’t surprised. It happened often, when neither of you wanted to be alone, when you needed someone to relieve the pressure. And most of the time, you really enjoyed the time you spent together, fooling around without any feelings. But tonight, it was for more selfish reasons that you said yes.

Because when San was touching you, you were only able to think back to how Yunho’s fingers squeezing your waist felt. And when he kissed you, you could only think back to the way Yunho’s lips made your whole body come alive again. And when he fucked you, you wished it could be Yunho instead. You felt bad, both because you were using your friend to quit thinking about someone else, and because that someone else was your teacher.

It shouldn’t have felt so good to kiss him, it shouldn’t have sparked a flame and made you crave more, it shouldn’t have made you want to drop to your knees for him. You should’ve been disgusted with yourself and what you did, you should’ve been apologising to him the very next day. But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate this moment, nor to forget it. It was engraved in your memory, enough for you to search him up on social media even when San was holding you in his arms, both of you still naked. It was wrong, once again, but you already crossed the line too many times to count, so who cared anymore ?

For a few weeks, you didn’t even dare to look at him too long, afraid to remember once again how delicious his lips felt on yours. And you didn’t feel his eyes following your every movement like you grew used to. It felt weird, to not have his gaze focused on you, and to see him avert even looking your way during each one of his classes. You stopped going to the debate class, and you stopped answering every one of his questions during lectures.

And Yunho felt like he had fucked everything up. He should’ve stopped when he started to be attracted to you. He should’ve stopped when he started to seek out your presence even more. He should’ve stopped before kissing you. After you ran away last time, he considered sending you a text to apologise, and ask you to not say anything about what happened. But he didn’t, he wanted to let you breathe and have some time for yourself. Except that he started to get worried about the situation. You hadn’t tried to talk about it with him, you hadn’t come to the debate class since this incident. He spent all his time trying to figure out how to handle the mess he created. That was the question going through his mind once more when you stepped into his classroom for the debate club, looking around to see that no one except you and him were here.

“- Uh… I’m sorry, did I miss something ?”

Yunho turned to you, and for the first time in weeks, he really looked at you, taking in your silhouette and your outfit - one of the little skirts you loved so much, and your signature black, thigh boots. He should’ve been stressed to see you again, anxious to have to talk to you about this kiss. But instead he felt relief wash over him, and it was like he could breathe again. He looked down at the paper covering his usually organised desk, realising that he had to answer you, even if his voice was shaking a little.

“- I cancelled today’s reunion, I wasn’t feeling very well.”

You nodded your head, looking around the classroom as if you were searching for something. You debated in your head if you should address the subject with your teacher or not. You were too nervous to talk about it, afraid that he would act like it didn’t ever happen, or worse, as if it didn’t mean anything to him. You were about to go away, to run away, like the other time, when you heard his voice behind you, loud and clear.

“- Wait ! Please, wait. We need to talk.”

You hesitated for a few moments, your hand hovering above the doorknob. Yunho saw your arm drop by your side before you turned around, taking some steps in his direction, and he was already relieved that you weren’t going to find him disgusting or scream at him. He didn’t need much time to figure out what he was going to tell you, having replayed this exact scene again and again in his head, too many times for his own good.

“- I have to apologise for what happened last time. It was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, or to scare you away. And I’m also sorry for kissing you like that, it was wrong of me, I should’ve never done that. We can forget all about it, or you can do whatever you want because I’ve done enough to make things worse.”

You stayed silent, for seconds that felt like hours for Yunho. He prayed inside that you were going to forgive him, that you were going to tell him that it was okay, that you would simply not talk about it ever again and let him feel guilty about this for the rest of his life.

“- It’s okay Mr. Jeong, it was a mistake, it could’ve happened to everyone. And I have some parts to take in this too. But I understand. It was a mistake anyway, it didn’t mean anything.”

It didn’t mean anything. These were the words he unconsciously hoped you wouldn’t pronounce. Because even if he tried to deny it, it meant something to him. It meant so much that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It meant so much that everytime he sat at his desk, he thought back to the moment he kissed you. It meant so much that even weeks later, he still didn’t forget the taste of your lips, the feeling of having you so close to him. And he craved it. He needed it again.

“- It’s okay if you want to think about it as a mistake.

- Why are you saying that ?

- Because for me it wasn’t.”

His eyes crossed yours, enough for him to see this little spark he noticed before he captured your lips last time. Maybe it wasn’t only a mistake for you either. Maybe he didn’t fuck it all up. Maybe he still had a chance to make this right, if there was any way to make all of this right.

“- It did mean something to me. I… I haven't stopped thinking about it. I can’t focus on anything else other than you.”

It was as if your breath was knocked out of your lungs again. He did that too much lately. But the intensity with which he was staring at you and your lips, and his confession had your heart feeling weak. And surely, you shouldn’t indulge in your fantasy. Surely, you shouldn’t let yourself get seduced by your teacher. But you were already in too deep, and you couldn’t ignore anymore the way he was making you feel.

“- I can’t either. I think… I think you should kiss me again, maybe it’ll help.

- Maybe you’re right.”

Yunho bypassed his desk, and you joined him, throwing yourself in his arms. He cradled your face between his hands, and this time he didn’t hesitate when he put his lips on yours, sighing in relief when the taste of your vanilla chapstick invaded his senses again. And the way you were tugging at his suit jacket to pull him closer to you told him everything he needed to know.

“- Fuck… I missed you so bad Y/N, thought I had messed up everything.”

You stared up at him, now able to see the lust, the desire he had for you going through his brown eyes, and it made your inside flip. You had dreamt about this so much, even if you would’ve rather died than admitted it. But it was true. You were dreaming about having him so close to you, about having him tell you how much he wanted you, about having him just like this.

“- You didn’t, not at all.”

That was all the talking that was made. Because you already talked too much, and even if he loved hearing your soft voice, all Yunho needed right now was to taste you again, to drown himself in your body and your addicting, intoxicating scent. You didn’t stop him when he reached for your thighs to lift you up and drop you on his desk, not caring about the assignments sheets you were sitting on.

You discovered the way his lips against yours felt again, savoured the way his tongue played with yours again. And you loved it just as much as the first time, maybe even more. Because this time, you were truly desperate to feel as much as him as possible. You reached to grab his waist, spreading your legs and bringing him even closer to you. And Yunho complied, because he was just as desperate to finally have you all for himself. He let his hands wander from your back to your thighs, and feeling up your bare skin under his fingers was already driving him crazy.

You tilted your head to the side when Yunho displaced his kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your jawline and then the side of your neck. He was almost devouring you, but you weren’t complaining : it was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed. You felt his hands creep up higher, reaching for the hem of your skirt, and his hot breath hitting the now wet skin of your neck.

“- Do you know how bad I wanted to do this every time you walked in my classroom wearing those skirts and these boots ? Do you know how hard it was to not think about doing exactly that whenever you were looking at me ?”

You let out a moan, not really knowing if it was because of what he just told you or because of the fact that he just gave you a hickey. Your heart was beating too fast, adrenaline rushing through your veins as Yunho kissed down your clothed-covered body, making his way to where his hands were still laying. But it was only when he dropped on his knees and pushed your legs apart some more that you realised what he was doing, your words getting stuck in your throat and being replaced by a pathetic whimper when he kissed the inside of your left thigh instead.

“- Is that okay ?

- Y-Yes Mr. Jeong.

- Call me Yunho, will you ?”

You quickly nodded your head, already far too gone because of his feather like touch everywhere except where you needed him the most.

“- Good girl.”

And as if it wasn’t already enough to get another noise out of you, he pushed your skirt higher up your thighs, revealing your soaked panties to his hungry gaze. Immediately, he dived in, licking a strip of your arousal through the material of your underwear. This time, another moan escaped you and it encouraged Yunho to push the piece of clothing to the side and taste your juices for real. The groan he let out against your folds had you shivering ang trying to close your legs around his head. But he was holding them with an iron grip, making it impossible for you to move.

You threw your head back when he sucked on your clit for the first time, one of your hands flying to take a hold of his hair, keeping him just where he was. He ate you out just like he kissed you - hungrily, like a starved man, like it was his last meal. And you were loving it all, trying to keep down your noises because anyone walking by the classroom could hear you and decide to walk in, and you could get in trouble. But the thrill of getting caught was making everything feel so much better.

“- Feeling good, angel ?

- Yes, so good, don’t stop please…”

The nickname had your legs trembling in no time, and the way he was lapping at your cunt had you close to the edge already. You could feel your pussy clenching around nothing as he sucked on your clit again, making more of your juices come out that he didn’t waste any time licking up. The force with which he was holding your thighs open made you wonder if he could use the same strength to put you in all the positions he wished, if he would use the same strength on you to make you unable to move and fuck you until you passed out.

“- Yunho… I’m close…”

He hummed against you, doubling his efforts to bring you to the edge. He didn’t need to do much, because you had been waiting for this for too long, and because he felt too good to resist. As you felt your orgasm wash over you, your hand that wasn’t busy in his hair gripped the first things you could reach - one of the paper scattered on his desk, and you couldn’t even feel guilty about the way you crumpled it between your fingers, the rush of pleasure taking over you so strongly you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else.

When you had regained enough consciousness for your legs to support your weight again, Yunho helped you come down off his desk, his hands not leaving your waist even when you were standing in front of him. You smiled when you saw how much you had messed up his hair, as they were going in every direction, and you tried to smother it a little.

“- Let me see you this week-end if you are free. I want us to talk, and I want to take my time with you, make you understand everything you make me feel.”

And you agreed. Of course. But you started to regret it when you found yourself all alone, in the room of the hotel Yunho had sent you the address of. You were aware that you couldn’t just welcome him at your dorm, or go to his apartment either, because there were risks that someone would recognize you. So here you were, waiting for him. Despite what had happened earlier this week, it still felt incredibly wrong to be there, to do what you were about to do. You looked around the room, where nothing felt familiar and everything felt odd, as if you shouldn’t be here. You were almost ready to leave when the door opened and Yunho entered.

He was dressed in a pair of black pants, some sneakers and a beige pullover. His casual outfit clashed with the slightly revealing white dress you were wearing underneath your trench. And you felt ridiculous for thinking that putting on something like this was appropriate, though nothing about this situation was appropriate.

“- I’m sorry, I couldn’t find anywhere to park my car.”

Yunho’s voice broke down the heavy silence hanging in the air, but it didn’t dissipate the strange atmosphere. The room was filled with tension, with unspoken words, with something dangerous and forbidden, but so tempting.

“- It’s okay, I haven’t been here for long.”

The moment was awkward, neither one of you knowing what to do with themselves. You couldn’t tell him that you were about to leave when he arrived. And he couldn't tell you that the real reason he was late was because he hesitated before coming. But all it took was one eye contact, one look a little too insistent at each other for your lips to find themselves once again, as if they knew better than yourselves what you wanted. And suddenly, nothing felt weird anymore, nothing felt wrong anymore, and everything was finally fitting perfectly - from the way he was holding your waist, to the way the skin of his neck felt under your fingertips.

“- I missed you.”

The words he whispered against your lips made you feel everything you’ve been needing without knowing it. And you thought that maybe, this wasn’t such a big mistake. And when Yunho’s hands found their way underneath the skirt of your dress to caress the soft skin of your plush thighs, your brain disconnected, letting your emotions control you instead. You got rid of your trench, the material falling to the ground and soon joined by his jacket. You didn’t resist when he grabbed you by your waist to hold you flush against him and kiss you again, finally letting your hands slip under the hem of his pullover and touching his skin. Once again, the way he was kissing you left you dizzy, unable to think about anything other than him.

“- This dress…

- Do you like it ? Or is it too much ?

- Fuck, no, it’s…”

He took another look at the way the white tissue was hugging all your curves just right, underlining your silhouette and making you look like an angel. And the fact that you dressed up just for him made his hunger for you grow even more. So when he felt the urge to kiss you again, and again, and again, he gave into it, like he had wanted to for so much longer than he thought.

“- It’s perfect, you’re beautiful.”

You wanted to compliment him right back, but he didn’t give you enough time to do so, mingling his tongue with yours instead. And you didn’t complain, because you couldn’t get enough of the taste of his lips, of the way his big hands were guiding you to sit on the bed, of the way he was looking at you. You watched closely as he got on his knees to get you rid of these thigh boots that were driving him crazy. Then, he helped you out of your dress, revealing your white lingerie set.

You thought you would’ve been shy, or embarrassed to let him see you like this. But all you felt right now was desire, and confidence. You smiled when you saw him lick his lips while staring down at your body, and while he wasn’t paying attention, you started to unbuckle his belt. Yunho let you do what you wanted, obeying when you asked him to take off his pullover. When you managed to get rid of his pants, you finally allowed yourself to properly drool over him.

You looked up at him from your sitting position on the bed, while he was still standing in between your legs. It was like crossing his gaze at this precise moment made you realise how real all of this was, and you were hit with the fact that you were really going to fuck with your teacher. But you couldn’t find it in you to fight the feeling anymore. It was too late anyway, you couldn’t go back even if you wanted to.

So you did nothing to stop him when Yunho pushed your shoulders so you would lay on the bed. You did nothing to stop him when he started to kiss your neck and covered the skin in his marks. You did nothing to stop him when his hands began to roam all around your body because he couldn’t choose only one spot to touch and focus on, because he needed all of you.

“- I thought you wanted to talk.”

But with the way your fingers were threading through his hair as he massaged your breast over your bra, you definitely weren’t up to talk either.

“- We’re gonna talk, but after I’ve fucked you.”

He punctuated his sentence by pushing your boobs out of your bra and leaning down to suck on your right nipple. And you couldn’t contradict him when all you were able to do was moan and ask for more. Yunho slowly made his way down to your panties, kissing every part of your exposed skin until he could remember every mole and imperfection of your body. And by the time he took off your underwear, you were already dripping wet and you couldn’t breathe properly anymore.

“- Please Yunho, please don’t tease…

- Why’s that angel ? You need me that bad ?

- Yes, yes I need you, I want you.”

Finally hearing it from you and not from the dreams he was making did it for Yunho as he searched for a condom in his jacket’s pocket, while you were throwing away the last pieces of clothing separating your skin from his. And you couldn’t help admiring him and his tall frame, his sculpted back, the veins in his hands and arms, his abs slightly peaking out. Everything about him, every inch of him was perfect, made by the Gods.

And you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock either, following his every movement as he got rid of his boxers and put the condom on. It was big, but just as pretty as him, and you already knew he would fill you up just right. When he was close enough to the bed again, you grabbed his hands, pulling him to lay on top of you and kissing him like it was the last time you could taste his lips.

“- Please Yunho, fuck me…”

And he couldn’t do anything else than do it, sliding right in with how wet you were even if you could still feel the way his cock was stretching you out. But you couldn’t help the moan escaping you when he bottomed out, nor could Yunho stop himself from groaning at how tight you were clenching around him.

“- Feeling so good around me angel, like you were made for me.”

You were ready to answer, but the force with which he thrusted inside of you stopped you from doing so, uttering a strangled noise instead that was quickly replaced by endless whines and moans as Yunho started to fuck into you. It was as if he knew exactly how to make you feel good, as if he already knew your body like the back of his hand. He found his way to your waist again, pinning your hips down to the mattress so he could do what he wanted, fuck you like he had been wanting to for far too long.

You could feel your mind drifting far away as all the tension you accumulated these past weeks left your body, washed away by pleasure and desire, washed away by the way Yunho was looking down at you with hooded eyes, lips parted and letting out the most sinful sounds you’ve ever heard. But you needed to feel him even closer to you, impossibly closer to you. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him down against you. He reached for your legs, guiding you to bend them more until he could hit this sweet spot that made your head fall back with a cry of his name.

“- I’m not gonna last long angel, been waiting for this for too long.

- Me too, I’m close, please…

- You sound so hot when you’re begging.”

You made sure to remember this piece of information before abandoning yourself to the feeling of his cock hitting all the right spots, and of his skilled fingers teasing your clit, the combination making you clench around him impossibly tight as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Your release triggered Yunho as he buried his face in your neck, groaning about how good you felt while filling up the condom with his cum. And the crazy thought of him filling you up instead crossed your mind, and it made the feeling of slight overstimulation even more intense.

You were so out of it that you almost didn’t feel the moment when Yunho got up to throw away the condom. You had purposefully decided to not think about all the consequences that what you just did implied, you just wanted to enjoy this a little longer. So when he came to lay down with you again, you got closer to him immediately, like magnets who couldn’t resist the attraction. His fingers brushing against your cheek encouraged you to turn your head to the side, diving in his hypnotising brown eyes. You stayed like that for a moment, simply looking at each other without saying anything. And as if it was the only thing your bodies knew how to do, you joined your lips again.

This time, it was slower, more sensual. If before you were devouring each other, now you took your time to savour the taste of his lips and tongue, to appreciate the way his hands were gliding on your skin, tracing invisible patterns on your lower back. It felt so much more intimate than what all this should have been, but it was too late, so you might as well fuck it all up completely.

This time, Yunho didn’t rush anything, letting you decide on the pace. He let you do what you wanted when you got on top of him, let you deepen the kiss, he let you caress and discover his body. Your kisses wandered from the corner of his mouth to his jawline, going down to his neck, his collarbone, his pecks, his abs, his v-line, careful not to leave any marks on him. You could hide the single hickey he gave you, but you didn’t want to take any risk. When you reached his inner thighs, his hands had made their way to your head, his fingers tangling between the messy strands of your hair. You looked up at him, the desire pouring from your eyes making his heart beat faster.

“- Can I ?

- Do whatever you want, angel.”

You smiled before you resumed your soft kisses along the skin of his thighs. But this time, you let them go up to his hardening dick. It was even prettier up close - and you’ve never thought you would say that about a dick one day, but you’ve never thought you would fuck with your teacher either. You kissed his length from the tip to the base, before running your tongue along the path you had traced. The action got a gasp out of Yunho, and you could feel him staring down at you as you kitten licked his flushed tip a few times. You wanted to take things slow, to remember this for as long as possible, but you were craving his taste, craving to feel him even more so you just took him into your mouth. He was big to say the least, and you could feel him, heavy on your tongue, stretching your throat as you started to bob your head up and down, stroking with your hands what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Yunho watched you intently, mouth slightly open and letting out sighs and grunts because you just felt that good. The sinful vision you offered was enough to make these weeks of mentally torturing himself totally worth it. Maybe he shouldn’t love the way you were making him feel, maybe he shouldn’t love the way you were whining around his shaft, maybe he shouldn’t love the way saliva was spilling out from the corners of your mouth. But he couldn’t care less when he gripped your hair harder and you moaned around his cock, eyes watering and nails digging into the skin of his thighs.

“- Shit angel, you’re taking it so well. You’re so good to me.”

You hummed around him once more, resisting the urge to gag around him, relaxing your throat until you could take all of him in your mouth. You felt Yunho sit up straight, so he could get a better look at the way his cock was sliding in and out of your lips with ease. The sight was truly mesmerising, and he wanted to engrave it in his memory.

“- I want to fuck your throat so bad, angel. Will you let me ?”

The pleased sound you let out after he grazed your scalp a few times let him know how willing you were to do just that. Yunho pulled on your hair roughly, forcing you to take all of him, until your nose was rubbing against his stomach and your hands were desperately pawing at his thighs. His thrusts were slow but hard, just what you wanted, just what you needed.

“- You’re such a good girl Y/N, fuck, you’re going to make me cum. I can do it inside of your pretty mouth, right ?”

You agreed with strangled noises as best as you could with the way he was ruining your throat, but it was enough for Yunho to understand and a few seconds later, he buried himself as deep as he could one last time, cumming down your throat with a loud moan of your name. You did your best to shallow everything, some drops of the sticky substance spilling out. Yunho didn’t waste time picking them up with his fingers, sliding them between your lips instead of his cock, commanding for you to lick them clean, which you gladly did. When he finally let you breathe again, your throat was sore, but you were so wet you could feel your juices sliding down the inside of your thighs.

“- Open your mouth for me angel, yes just like that. Good girl.”

Yunho grabbed you by your throat bringing your face closer to his and kissing you messily. He didn’t care that he just came into your mouth, he didn’t care that he could still feel his own taste on your tongue as you made out with him, on the contrary, it made everything so much more intense, so much better, so much more special.

“- Was it good ?

- It was a perfect angel, you’re perfect.”

His hands slid down from your neck to your ass, guiding you to sit on his lap. His touch made you shiver, your back arching unconsciously.

“- Want me to return the favour angel ?

- Yes please, I want your fingers…”

Yunho pushed you so you would lay down on the bed again, his fingers immediately dipping to your core, brushing lightly against your clit. His fingertips glided with ease against your slit, collecting your juices and spreading them everywhere. And you were hypnotised by the sight, thinking about how well his long fingers would fit perfectly inside of you, how they could reach your sweet spot so easily.

“- You’re so wet, Y/N, you’re dripping on my hand.

- Please, Yunho…”

The way you were begging for him, the way you were calling his name, the way you were grabbing his biceps, trying to entice him in finally pushing his fingers inside of you - everything was driving him crazy, you were driving him crazy, and he was convinced that he didn’t want all of that to ever stop. His gaze was fixed on your face scrunching up with pleasure when he finally put one finger inside of your clenching pussy.

“- Feels good ?

- Yes, so good.

- You want another one ?

- Please…”

Yunho bit his lip when he watched you take his second finger with ease, relishing in your sweet voice moaning at the way he was able to reach so deep without making any efforts. You were being so good, and he didn’t have to do anything for you to do so. You were pleading for him so easily, like it was natural, and that was making him feel even more dizzy with want and desire for you. He started to pump his fingers slowly, the squelching sounds from your wet cunt echoing through the room along with your whimpers for more. His other hand creeped up to your thigh, making sure to keep them open. Pleasure was clouding your mind, but your eyes were unable to leave the sight of the veins bulging in his forearms as he fingered you restlessly, thinking about all the ways he could control you, about all the positions he could put you in if he wanted to.

And when it all started to feel too good, you plopped down against the pillows, not able to hold your own weight anymore from how his fingers were making you feel. Whenever he was curling them against that one spot, your brain turned to mush, and you could only whine and cry for more. You closed your eyes, already feeling close to your relief, but not wanting him to stop.

“- Yunho…

- What do you want, angel ?

- I-I want you to fuck me again, please…”

He didn’t let you have any time to think as he bent down to kiss you again, as a reward for being so good to him, so good for him, so perfect for him.

“- Cum on my fingers first, and I’ll fuck you as many time as you want, okay ?”

You nodded energetically, too turned on to think about anything else that wasn’t him. He let down your thigh to circle your clit, efficiently bringing you to your climax in seconds. Your nails dug into his biceps as the rush was taking over you, clenching around his fingers and moaning so loudly he was certain that the people in the room next to you could hear you scream his name. But he loved it, he was loving all of this a little too much.

But Yunho didn’t ask himself more questions as he got up to find another condom in his pockets. He didn’t dare interrogate why it felt so good when he entered your pussy for the second time. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know why hearing you moan his name again and again made his heart beat faster. All he wanted right now was you, all he needed right now was you and your perfect body.

This time, he wanted to feel you, to really feel you. So he purposely slowed down his thrusts, and even when you wrapped your legs around his waist, all he did was to suck another hickey in between your breasts. It was frustrating, but it also felt insanely good, the type of pleasure that made you unable to think, that made you go to another world because it just felt that good. You knew you were babbling incoherently, mewling for him to go faster, but you were already too far gone to care about how desperate you must look.

In the heat of the moment, Yunho didn’t think twice before grabbing your wrists and pinning them down to the mattress, but you only whined and clenched around him tighter as an answer. And that made him lose control, his thrusts becoming more sloppy, without any rhythm, because you just felt that good.

“- Yunho ! I’m gonn- Ah ! Oh my god…

- Cum for me angel, fuck, let me hear you.”

His words pushed you over the edge, the overstimulation from your two previous orgasm making this one feel even more intense and fulfilling. Your moans were high-pitched, but you couldn’t keep your voice down, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else than Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. You could hear him groan as he pulled out, throwing the condom away to pump himself on top of you. He only needed a few seconds to cum on your chest, the white fluid soon covering them and even that felt good.

You felt so out of your own body that you almost didn’t register when Yunho grabbed some tissues to clean your skin. But the ringtone of your phone was like a brutal reminder that this was only a little bubble that couldn’t last forever. You got up from the bed to answer your phone, Dajeong on the other line reminding you of a gathering with some of your friends that you had completely forgotten, too focused on Yunho and what you just did. As soon as you hung up, you started to put your clothes back on. The awkward silence from before was coming back, but you didn’t want to end it like that. You wished you could’ve stayed with him a little longer, but you had to be realistic : you weren’t his girlfriend and you’ll never be. But when he grabbed your arm and kissed you passionately while you were fully dressed up and he was only wearing his underwear, it felt exactly like that.

“- Text me later, okay ? I still want us to talk.”

This was becoming too serious for you and you could feel your heart beating too fast for your liking when he cradled your face in his hands to force you to meet his eyes.

“- So you want to see me again ?

- How could I not ?”

You simply smiled and kissed him again before you left. Your legs were still weak, and when you looked at your reflections in the mirror of the elevator, it was like what you did was written all over your face - in your smudged lipstick and your ruffled hair. But it felt too good, and you were already addicted. You knew it would not be easy to stop, but you preferred to pretend that it could last forever for now.

You were afraid that everything would feel weird, that you wouldn’t even dare to look at him, or that maybe he would be the one putting an end to all of this. But he didn’t. And the way he was looking at you during his classes could only mean that he craved you just as much as you craved him. And stealing glances at each other was basically all you were able to do for the whole week, because you had a ton of assignments to work on, and because he had too much work. Both of you agreed through text that it was too risky to do anything on the campus, that nothing should happen again in his office.

However, that didn’t stop your mind from coming back to when he ate you out on his desk, or to him fucking you, or to the way his cock was feeling so heavy on your tongue. And that didn’t stop Yunho from thinking back to your plush thighs clenching around his head, or to your taste, or the way you were screaming his name when he was hitting the right spot. Every night when you came back from your classes, you laid down on your bed, trying to make the aching in your core go away, but the only thing that could satisfy you was him, and you knew it.

Your frustration reached its peak on Friday when Lola cancelled your night out because she had to work early the next morning. You knew it wasn’t her fault, that it was her colleague for calling in sick just so she could go see her boyfriend, but it still annoyed you, and it was the cherry on top. This whole week would have been stressing enough, but the fact that Yunho made eye contact with you whenever he could, and that he purposefully brushed his fingers against yours every time he handed you some documents added to your irritation.

You didn’t think twice when you sent him a text, asking him to join you to the hotel because you needed him badly. You didn’t feel ashamed of how desperate and needy you were, because you were too horny to care about the fact that you shouldn’t miss him so much after only one week of not seeing each other. And maybe Yunho should have resisted more but he longed for you, he had wanted you all week and he couldn’t contain his desire anymore.

This time, he didn’t even greet you when he entered the hotel room, going straight for your lips and taking control of the kiss, devouring your mouth as if you were his oxygen. Maybe you should've talked before doing this again, but lust was clouding his and your mind, none of you thinking about anything else than releasing the tension.

Soon enough, the floor was covered in your clothes as Yunho manhandled you on your knees, ass up and face down in the pillows, two of his fingers already buried deep inside of you. If last time, he wanted to take his time, today he just needed to ruin you, to break you down, to see you cry for him. And that was exactly what you wanted him to do, what you needed him to do to you. Your brain had already been disconnected, the words coming out of your mouth against your will.

“- Please Yunho fuck me, please wanna feel you raw, want you to fill me up, please…”

His fingers stilled inside of you for a few seconds, almost making you cry out at the loss of stimulation. What you were asking him to do was crazy, it was not safe, but the way his dick throbbed made all the thinking for him - he wanted that, he dreamt about that.

“- Are you sure about that angel ?

- Yes, please ! I’m on the pill, I’ll take a plan B, but please I need you, please…”

It was still dangerous, it was still nonsense, but Yunho wasn’t thinking with his brain anymore, nothing logical was crossing his mind anymore.

“- Fuck, you’re going to kill me Y/N.”

But he loved it, and he loved how tight you felt around him when he pushed his cock inside, loved how he could feel you even better like that, loved how pliant you were in his hold. He gripped your waist as he bottomed out, forcing you to stay still and all you could do was moan out his name like a prayer, because you could feel everything, because it felt even more intense like that, because his strength excited you. And Yunho didn’t hesitate when he started to pound into you, the feeling of your bare cunt around his dick making him delirious. You arched your back more, trying to fuck yourself against his cock because you always wanted more, you always craved more.

“- You’re such a slut, angel. Fuck ! You’re letting me fuck you raw but you get shy when I look at you, uh ? You’re so fucking naughty.”

You adored it when he called you his good girl, but the way he was holding the back of your neck to keep your head buried in the pillow, and the way he was ruining you felt just as good. The adrenaline rushing in your veins had you getting closer to the edge so quickly, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were unable to say anything else than his name, choking on your words, mewling from the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

And Yunho wanted to talk dirty to you, to whisper all the things he knew you loved in your ears, but his mind was clouded with want, and he couldn’t think straight. All he wanted was to spill his load inside of you, do the things he imagined when he was alone, these things he forbade himself to think about. But now he could, and he never felt better than buried deep inside your tight cunt.

“- Gonna cum inside of you, okay ? Gonna fill you up like the slut you are, angel.

- Please !”

The moan he let out when he stilled inside of you was so erotic you could’ve come only listening to his voice, but the feeling of his cum painting your insides white was what made it for you, your body growing limp in his hold. His grip on your neck and hips tightened, maybe enough to leave you with some marks but you didn’t care. Both of you had trouble coming down, but when you were finally able to, Yunho helped you lay down with him, your head resting on his chest as you were still trying to catch your breath. You felt his fingers brushing your hair away from your face and you looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat when your gaze crossed.

“- I wasn’t too rough, right ?

- No, it was perfect, I loved it.”

You smiled at each other, and even if it felt too intimate, and even if it was what couples did and not whatever the two of you were, he leaned down to kiss your lips softly.

“- I loved it too. I think I just want to keep spending a good time with you, I don't want things to get more complicated than they already are, if that’s okay with you. Let’s keep it as simple as possible, yeah ?

- Yeah, I’d like that.”

You were the one to kiss him this time, as if you wanted to seal your agreement, as if it was a silent promise.

“- Where are we going ?

- It’s a surprise. You can choose the music if you want.”

You didn’t waste any time going through Yunho’s playlist, teasing him about some songs you didn’t think he would listen to and finally settling on a Lana del Ray song. It had been a week since you decided to just do what felt right and not think too much, and he had asked you if you were free to spend your Saturday with him. Of course, you said yes, but you didn’t think that he would pick you up in his car and drive you somewhere, thinking he just wanted to change from the hotel you were always meeting up and show you another place, but it felt like he was literally taking you on a date.

You watched the landscape unfold through the car window, casually chatting with Yunho about how your week went, about what you ate yesterday, about which book you read lately. Sometimes, you thought that the age difference between the two of you would make things awkward, or that it would clash with your opinions. But it was the exact opposite. Your conversations felt natural, as if you had known each other for decades, as if eight years weren’t separating you. You were twenty-two, you were an adult and you could make your own choices, but sometimes, you were worried about the way he was perceiving you.

“- Y/N ? We’re almost there.”

You looked down at your phone, seeing that it had in fact been over an hour since he had picked you up and you apparently fell asleep. You yawned as you checked your makeup and hairstyle in the mirror of the sun visor, glad to see that your little nap hadn’t messed up anything. When Yunho stopped the car, you were in a narrow street, where not many stores could be seen. You were about to get out when he asked you to wait, getting out himself and making his way over to the passenger door, opening it for you and offering you his hand to help you out. And smiled up at him as you got out of his car.

“- You’re such a gentleman.

- For you ? Always.”

His cheeky smile made you giggle, but the fact that he didn’t let go of your hand as he walked you to one of the few shops on the street made your heart skip a beat. He did nastier things to you, said words that would have made anyone feel embarrassed, but for some reason, this small gesture dusted your cheeks in a pink tone that wasn’t due to your excessive use of blush.

“- I really wanted to show you this place, I think you’re gonna love it.”

He held the door for you, a little bell ringing as you entered a cute, little bookshop. The smell of old pages invaded your nostrils as Yunho guided you through the shelves with a hand on the small of your back. You couldn’t help looking all around, stunned by how much books were in there, by how many you recognized the titles of. The atmosphere of the whole boutique was welcoming and warm, the sunlight reflecting through the coloured glass of the front window displaying moving shadows everywhere and adding to its charm.

“- You like it ?”

You turned to him with a big smile on your face, almost ready to squeal with excitement.

“- Of course I like it ! If I could spend my life there I would !

- No one’s stopping you angel.”

A big smile spread on his face as he kissed your forehead and let you wander around, eyes opening wide every time you saw a title you recognized. You were fitting perfectly in the setting with the black bow in your hair, your little brown skirt and your white turtleneck. Yunho was so lost in his contemplation that he almost didn’t hear the lady holding the shop coming out of the stocking room.

“- Yunho ! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you there !

- Yeah Mrs. McMillan, I’m sorry I’ve been quite busy.”

The old lady shook her head, her long, white hair flying around as she did so.

“- I’ve already told you to call me Isabel, honey, I’m not that old ! And you brought a pretty girl along this time.”

Yunho turned back to you, watching you fondly as you piled up books in your arms, and soon enough the stack would be higher than you.

“- Is that love I’m seeing in your eyes ?

- No, not at all, she’s only a friend.”

Putting that label on you made his heart ache, because he knew you were so much more than that, and Isabel seemed to know it as well because she looked at him with a gaze filled with disapproval as you came to the counter, still smiling.

“- Y/N, this is Isabel McMillan, she has been selling books here since I’ve been alive.

- Nice to meet you Mrs. McMillan ! I have to say that this shop might become my new favourite place, there’s so many things there, it’s incredible !”

Your excitement was contagious as a smile took over the old woman's features too, softening at having someone as passionate as you to compliment her.

“- Don’t take on your friend’s bad habits, call me Isabel, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re enjoying my hard work.

- I really do. If I could, I would buy half of these books but sadly I cannot.”

As Isabel noted down the title of the books you wanted to buy - because she didn’t want to use technology, saying it was too tiring to learn these things at her advanced age - Yunho couldn’t detach his eyes from you.

“- Since you’re with Yunho, and because I’m starting to like you, young lady, I’m going to offer you a little reduction. It’s rare to see people being so dedicated to literature these days, it will not do any harm to my business to encourage you to come again.

- Thank you so much ! But I’m gonna tell you a secret : I would’ve come back, even without that.”

The old lady laughed out loud, along with you and Yunho joined the two of you, because your good mood was infectious.

“- Do you still have the book I asked you to put away last time ?

- Of course, honey, I’m a woman of words.”

She crouched down behind the counter and came up with a book she handed him.

“- I’ll pay for it, and all the ones Y/N is taking.

- What ? No, Yunho this is almost fifty euros, it’s too much.

- Can’t I spoil you ? It’s my pleasure angel, I wanna do this for you so let me, okay ?”

The nickname had you unable to hold eye contact with him much longer, and you folded, letting him pay for your books, with butterflies coming alive in your stomach as he held the door for you again on your way out. And Isabel watched all this happen, and she couldn’t help scolding Yunho in his head for being so blind about his own feelings, for being so blind to the way you were looking at him with heart eyes. But after all, it was none of her business.

“- Put the books in my car, then we can go grab a coffee if you want.

- I’d like that, yeah ! And thank you for the books, you didn’t have to.

- Yes, but I wanted to. Stop worrying about that okay ?”

You nodded as you reached his car and you dropped the books on his back seat. But before you could close the door, he handed you the book he took for himself.

“- This one is also for you. I saw it last time and thought that you might like it. Maybe you could read it while I’m reading one of yours, and when we’re done, we could hand it back with annotations and talk about it. What do you think ?”

When you looked up at him, he looked anxious, maybe because he thought that you wouldn’t like his idea. But you did, the simple fact that he thought about you when seeing this book made you feel dizzy.

“- I think I love this idea. Wait a minute.”

You turned around, rummaging through all your new books in search of the one you saw and that you bought for the sole reason that it reminded you of him.

“- I picked up this one thinking about you, actually, so you might read it as well.”

You handed him the book, and he took it gladly as you grabbed the one he picked up for you too. You finally closed the car door and you both headed downtown to find a coffee shop. The first time your hand brushed against his, you didn’t dare to take it. And the second time, he didn’t dare to do it. So the third time, you took a deep breath and intertwined your fingers with his, and he gave your hand a little squeeze, both of you wearing a bright smile on your faces.

The coffee shop you found was surprisingly pretty empty considering it was a Saturday evening, but you were glad there were not that many people. When you approached the counter, you were ready to recite your favourite coffee order when Yunho took the lead and listed down your usual as if it was written in his mind. You couldn’t even listen to the rest of the things he said to the cashier, focused on why he knew that when you never told him. He must’ve noticed you blankly staring at him, because he turned to you with a little smirk.

“- What ? You’re surprised I know this ?

- Yes, a little. How did you figure it out ?

- Well, you always come to my classes with the same thing, it was not difficult to notice.”

You rolled your eyes, mainly to hide how flustered the information made you feel.

“- You’re so obsessed with me.”

As the cashier put your orders down on the counter and announced the price of your drinks, Yunho mouthed “Yes” to you as he paid again for the both of you without letting you enough time to even reach for your purse. And before you could even start to protest, he effectively shut you up by kissing your cheek and dragging you along with him to find an isolated table where you both sat down. As always, the conversation flooded naturally, and you were not thinking about anything displeasing - in this instant, you were truly happy.

And Yunho was happy too. So when you proposed to play a card game, and that the winner could ask the loser a question about anything, he agreed, even if it was silly, it was okay because it was you. You asked him what his favourite colour was, why he wanted to become a teacher, what he would say to Oscar Wilde if he could talk to him. And he asked you which Austen novel was your favourite, why you wanted to study literature, what your biggest dream was. You were so immersed in your little game that the staff of the coffee shop had to ask you to leave because they were closing the place, and the sky was indeed darker as you got out to walk back to his car.

He opened the door for you again, and as you watched him make his way to the driver seat, you couldn’t help asking yourself if that was really all he wanted from this afternoon. After all, even if you didn’t put a label on your relationship - if you could even call it that - you knew deep down that the main reason he was seeing you was sex. And if he didn’t plan on having sex with you now, does this mean that this meeting you didn’t dare call a date was only that ? But then, it took you down a rabbit hole of never ending questions that you didn’t want to dig into.

Sensing that your mood was a little down, Yunho didn’t dare to talk too much and disturb you, even if he didn’t understand why. You had a good time, you couldn’t stop smiling and you really seemed to enjoy hanging out with him. And the thought that you could be questioning yourself about your situationship made him a little nervous, though it shouldn’t because this was what it was - a situationship. And it didn’t matter if you made his heart beat faster everytime he saw you. And it didn’t matter if you made him feel alive for the first time in years. It didn’t matter because having more with you was simply impossible. When Yunho parked in front of your dorm, all the serotonin from this day had been washed away with the doubts filling him up.

“- Thank you for everything Yunho, I had a great time.”

But your smile seemed fake, it didn’t reach your eyes as it usually did. And Yunho felt his heart clench painfully. He didn’t want you to feel sad with him. Never. You were supposed to enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed yours.

“- Are you really alright ? If I overstepped, tell me, please. I don’t want you to keep these things from me Y/N.”

You sighed as you turned your gaze away from him, but his hands on either side of your face forced you to look him in the eyes again. Why did he have to be so perfect all the time ? It would’ve made things so much easier if he didn’t care about you.

“- You did nothing wrong, I’m just thinking too much.

- About what ?

- I just think we should be more careful if we start going out like that because someone could recognize us. And you could lose your job, or I could get kicked out. I’m probably just being paranoid but…”

That was not the problem, but you didn’t want to talk about the real reason you were feeling so melancholic. Because it would probably ruin everything, and you needed him too much for your own good, you needed him too much to risk losing him.

“- You’re not being crazy, okay ? I understand, and if you’re afraid we might meet someone we know, we can go somewhere else next time, anywhere you wanna go, i’ll take you. How does that sound ?

- Good. It sounds good.

- Then we’ll be doing that.”

You nodded, and even if you still felt a little bad, one look from him was enough to make you feel better, to make your worries all go away. So even if your heart was screaming for you not to, you let him kiss your forehead, and then your lips, so softly it made you weak in the knees. But it felt too good to ask him to stop. So you didn’t, and you just kissed him back until you were out of breath.

“- I’m gonna go, I have to work on your assignment because fucking the teacher won’t get me a free pass, right ?

- That’s the spirit angel, I’m always expecting the best from you.

- Then I have to start now. Be careful on the road, Yu.”

He nodded and watched you get out of his car, not leaving until he saw you get inside the building of your dorm. And then only did he authorise himself to let out a sigh. Because you were too sweet to be true, because you gave him a little nickname that had him feeling much more things than he shouldn’t, because your scent was still lingering everywhere and it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy, to be honest.

And it was bad, really bad. Yunho didn't mean for things to go this far, but he felt like he couldn’t stop now. And if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to stop now that he had a taste of you. However, it still felt incredibly wrong to go home to his girlfriend when he had spent the day with you and that he didn’t think about her only once. The smell of home cooked food hit him as soon as he stepped inside, and the weight on his shoulders even more heavy as he announced that he was home.

“- You’re coming back late, baby ! But that’s okay, at least everything is ready for dinner, I made your favourite !”

Guiltiness was creeping up inside of him with every word she said, and everything sounded so fake when he served her his lie about having an important meeting with his colleagues. She didn’t deserve this, she didn’t do anything for him to stop loving her. On the contrary, Hana was always sweet and caring, she was there for him and had been for years. But maybe it was the problem. Maybe it has been too long. But Yunho perfectly knew the real reason, it was just too painful to admit it, and it would make things too real.

For a while, he preferred to ignore the fact that you were making the flames come alive again in his heart. He preferred to ignore how much stronger his feelings for you were than for his girlfriend he was supposed to love and cherish and marry soon. But was it really a crime when everything she was doing, everything they were doing seemed faked, forced, done out of habit rather than because of true love and affection ? Yunho knew that he was already in too deep with you to stop, and the way Hana was not paying attention to what he was saying was making him feel a little less remorseful about the way he was only seeing your face when she was kissing him good night.

Work and classes have been hectic for the both of you these past weeks, so Yunho’s proposal of a getaway trip to the beach this weekend felt like a bubble of oxygen. Sure, you had seen each other, but for never more than a quickie. Sure, you didn’t stop sending each other texts and photos to keep up with your days, but you wanted to hear him calling you angel again. And even if it was supposed to be only that, even if you shouldn’t want that, you still missed spending time with him, talking with him. So you held on to the promise of this little break with him to finally breathe and relax.

When you finally spotted his car parked a few streets away from your dorm, and his tall frame leaning against the drivers’ door, the wind blowing his perfectly styled hair, your heart started to beat faster. The rush you got everytime you laid your eyes on him never flattered. And you didn’t really think about it when you ran to him and threw yourself in his arms. You could hear him chuckling as he buried his face into your neck, holding you closer to him and spinning you around. Both of you needed this hug, and Yunho couldn’t ever get tired of your addicting scent, breathing you in for a moment before he cradled your face into his hands to kiss you like he had wanted to these past few days.

“- I missed you, angel.

- We literally saw each other yesterday.

- But not like that.”

This comment was enough to make heat rise into your body again. But you simply slapped his chest playfully as he giggled like an idiot. But he didn’t mind your teasing, it was entertaining. Like the gentlemen he always was, Yunho opened the door of the car for you. Every time he drove you somewhere, you felt like a passenger princess - getting to choose the music, opening the windows whenever you wanted, holding his hand when he didn’t need it. The weather was starting to warm up a little, and you smiled as you felt the pleasant air hit your face, making your hair fly in every direction.

And yes, Yunho felt a little guilty for cancelling plans he had with his girlfriend to take you to the beach, but he needed it. He needed to escape from his life and his routine for just one day, but more importantly, he needed you. He didn’t want to spend his weekend with her family, he wanted to spend it with you. And as he watched you run towards the water, squealing as the cold liquid touched your bare feets, he felt like it was worth it. Your long skirt was floating around you to the rhythm of the wind, and to him, you’ve never looked more beautiful than right now - with your hair all messy, and the brightest smile he’s ever seen on your face directed at him, asking him to come with you.

There were only a few other people on the beach, allowing you to be as affectionate as you wished. The picnic both of you had prepared was spent between sweet kisses and mindless conversation. And then, Yunho laid down to rest his head on your lap while you read another book he had given to you. You mindlessly started to run your hands through his hair, smiling lightly when he released a satisfied sigh, relaxing even more. And Yunho swore he could’ve fallen asleep just like that - with the sun warming up his body and your presence warming up his heart.

“- It’s been so long since I’ve last gone to the beach…”

Your self-reflection steered Yunho out of his slumber, looking up at you to find you entirely focused on the landscape in front of your eyes. Suddenly, your tone was a lot more nostalgic, and he couldn’t help his curiosity. Because yes, he knew your body like the back of his hands by now, and he knew what you were liken but he knew so little about your past, about you - the you he was starting to fall in love with.

“- But you grew up close to the ocean, right ?

- Yeah. We used to go every weekend, it was always the best day of the week and I was so excited to go every time. But when my parents started to fight, we stopped going. Apparently, it reminded them of too many memories and they had no time to do that anymore. I tried to go alone once. I was maybe eight ? I don’t remember well, but I know that I got scolded so badly I’ve never tried it again, even as a teenager. And I kinda had an apprehension to go see the ocean again.

- I didn’t know that. I’m sorry for proposing that, we can leave whenever you want if you don’t feel comfortable, angel.”

Your eyes finally came back to him, smiling softly at him as you pushed a strand of his hair away from his forehead, your touch making goosebumps come alive on his skin.

“- It’s okay, I’m over all that now. And when I think back about it, these trips were never perfect. My parents were already fighting back then, I was just too young to understand what it meant. But today I’m here with you, so I knew it would be nothing like that. You make everything better, Yu.”

You leaned forward, pecking his lips for a second or two, but it was enough to make Yunho smile again. He had no idea your childhood could’ve been so chaotic, and from what you told him, he could easily imagine the classic scheme through which you went. And it made sense with the women you were today - strong, independent and determined. But he also learned that you needed him to baby you sometimes, and he was always willing to let you fall into his open arms every time you needed to. And the fact that you were slowly opening up more and more to him everyday felt like a reward.

“- What was your childhood like ?

- Well, I have a pretty conservative and religious family, and I’ve always felt like I’ve never belonged with them. My parents love me, I know they do, but it’s like I don’t fit in with them, you know ? It’s a strange feeling, but I’ve always been the rebel one : I didn’t do the studies my parents wanted me to do, and I didn’t follow every one of their rules as I grew up, and I’ve never had the same faith as them. I think that’s what disturbed them the most.

- The feeling of being a disappointment, and of going against the flow is never easy to deal with, especially as a kid. But look where you are now. They should be proud of you for doing a job you love. At least, I’m proud of you.”

This time, Yunho made the first move to kiss you.

“You’re really an angel, too good to be true.

- I could say the same about you.”

Because he simply had that aura that made you feel safe, that made you feel comfortable, that made you feel at home. Every time you looked into his eyes, it was as if nothing else existed, as if he was the only thing that was real. But you didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to dwell on what it meant, didn’t want to think about the fact that this won’t last forever. Instead, you kept on talking, telling each other some childhood memories. And it all felt so peaceful, like you were all alone, like it was both of you against the rest of the world, like you were in a little bubble that could never burst.

And Yunho really wished he could stay like that with you forever, but the sun was starting to go down and the wind was turning colder. You could’ve fallen asleep on the ride home, lulled by the way he was quietly humming to the songs of the playlist you choose. This day made you forget about everything else, made the stress go away, made all your worries disappear. But you knew it was not only because you got away, but mostly because Yunho was with you. He always had that effect on you, no matter how hard you tried to resist it. You didn’t want this day to end, you didn’t want this feeling to ever go away. So as he parked near your dorm, you kissed his lips one more time.

“- Do you want to come up ? My roommate is not here.

- What about being careful, angel ? Anyone could recognize me here.

- It’s Sunday, everyone is either locked up in their rooms working or spending the day out. No one will see you. Please ?”

The fact that you started to kiss down his neck as well as your pleading eyes were close to breaking Yunho’s resolve. He knew he shouldn’t let you have this much of an effect on him, but you had that effect and he couldn’t deny the way he weakly said “yes” and let you drag him to your dorm room. But the way you were giggling against his lips as you pushed him to sit down on your bed made him forget all about his doubts. As you dropped to your knees on the ground, settling between his legs, Yunho couldn’t help the shaky breath that escaped him.

“- I think I have to pay you back for today, don’t I ?”

The smirk playing on your lips as you unbuckled his belt and helped him get out of his pants did nothing to calm his heartbeat down. And the way you were always so eager to take care of him, to have your mouth on him, did nothing to help either. But it felt too good, so he didn’t stop you and let you kiss his tip one time before you started to kitten-lick his cock.

“- Fuck, don’t tease, angel.

- But you look so pretty like that.”

Your pouty lips made him want to spoil you but also to be a little mean. But you were such a good girl for him, taking all of him in your mouth. Everytime you were getting down on your knees for him, Yunho couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline going through his veins. He threw his head back when he felt your cheeks hollowing, sucking him in deeper. He wanted to stay like that forever, with you drooling around his cock, and his hands buried in your hair. But he needed to have his mouth on you too, to make you feel good. So he took advantage of your size difference to throw you on the bed with ease, pushing up your long skirt so he could dip his head under the material and lick a strip of your wet cunt through your panties.

“- Yunho… Please, don’t tease.

- But you look so pretty like that.”

You smiled as you lightly slapped his shoulder, eliciting a few chuckles from him before he helped you get out of your underwear and finally got a taste of your cunt. You could only see the top of his head, but the way he was subtly nibbling on your clit had you closing your eyes to appreciate the moment even more. His tongue lapping at your cunt was sending you to places you’ve never been, and you couldn’t care less about the other people at the dorm who might hear you whining his name loudly. This day was so perfect, Yunho was so perfect. You couldn’t ask for more. Or you could, but you would be pushing your luck, and you didn’t want anything else if it meant you could be with him in some way. But you didn’t want to think about all that right now, so you pushed his head further in between your thighs.

“- Don’t stop, please…”

Yunho groaned against your folds, doubling his efforts to bring you to the edge, practically making out with your pussy at this point. But you didn’t mind, not at all. You wanted him, wanted every little part of his body and soul to be yours. As you felt your orgasm approaching, you started to grind against his face, moaning at the way his nose was bumping against your clit every time you rocked your hips. And when you came with a cry of pleasure, Yunho made sure to hold your thighs open for him to eat you until he had gulped down the last drop of your juices.

“- How do you taste better every time ? I’ll never get tired of it.

- Good. Because I don't want you to stop.”

Both of you were still half clothed, but you didn’t mind it as Yunho came up to kiss your lips, his tongue finding yours easily and his hands grabbing your breast over your top like a second nature. Everything felt so familiar, so right, like you were where you should be. Your lips were sealed to his, from the moment he pulled out his condom to the moment his cock entered you, only separating for a brief instant when you moaned in harmony.

And no words where needed as he made love to you. Because there was no other way to define how he was fucking you, to define the tenderness of his touch, the fondness of his gaze, the softness of his breath hitting your skin. Every sound he elicited from you was immediately drowned in his mouth, your hands tugging at the material of his shirt as you felt close to the edge again. You felt full of so many emotions you couldn’t even name them all, but you knew that Yunho was the only reason you were feeling all that.

“- I’m close…

- Me too, angel…”

The words you’ve been meaning to say for some time almost slipped past your lips as you felt the rush of pleasure course through your body. And if Yunho hadn’t nuzzled his head into your neck, he would’ve probably been about to say them too. As you came down of your little paradise where nothing existed except for him, you realised how close you’ve been to fuck it all up. And you didn’t want that - you were going to take everything you could have from this relationship, and no matter the state you would end up in, it would be worth it because it was him.

“- Hey ! Watch where you’re going Y/N !”

Dajeong kept you from walking straight into the door that opened just in front of your face. You sheepishly thanked her, and tried to not get lost in your thoughts again.

“- You seem absent since yesterday. Did something happen this weekend ?”

You knew exactly why you were so absorbed, you knew it. But you couldn’t say it, you couldn’t talk about it with her. It would mean putting Yunho in a dangerous situation, and yourself too. And what would she think of you ? You were always the first one to comment on how stupid all the girls crushing on your teacher were, and now you were the one who ended up in his bed every time he needed you.

“- It’s nothing, I just… Don’t know what to do about something and I’m thinking about it a little too much.”

Your eyes travelled from your friend by your side to Yunho’s silhouette. He was standing near the door of his office, having a lively conversation with a woman you’ve never seen before but you supposed that she was one of his colleagues. You had no right to be jealous. And you weren’t. Not really, at least. You were not jealous about seeing him with someone else, you were mentally prepared for that to happen. But you were jealous of how good she looked beside him, thinking about how ridiculous you must be whenever you were going out with him. Your age difference was visible, and everything felt much more right when he was with someone his age. But you quickly averted your gaze from them, not seeing the pained look on Yunho’s face as he turned his head your way.

“- You wanna talk about it tonight ?

- I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

Dajeong smiled at you and grabbed you by your arm, trying to cheer you up a little. She didn’t like to see you down - you were always so energetic and joyful, it felt odd whenever you were like that.

“- No matter what you decide, I’m here. And I’m keeping you home for a movie night anyway.

- I'd like that a lot. Thank you.

- I told you, I’m here for you.”

You thanked her again and tried not to think about Yunho for the rest of the day. You weren’t even mad at him, except the fact that you had no right feeling like that, it was mostly because you realised that you really couldn’t be with him for more than what you already were. And it hurt more than you think it would have, because even if you tried to stop yourself from daydreaming about a future with him, you still did, and you had started to believe that it could happen, that it could be true. But you had to be sensible and remind yourself that it was impossible, that even if there was the slightest chance that he loved you, he could never do it in the open, and you were not ready to stay a secret your whole life. But you still went to his office after your classes because he had asked you to. When you entered the room, Yunho was waiting for you, anxiously chewing on his nails. He gestured for you to close the door behind you and when you made sure it was locked, you took his hands in yours, confusion lingering in your eyes.

“- What is it Yu ? Are you alright ?

- I should be the one asking you that.

- Why ?

- Because of what you saw this morning. It’s not what you think, I swear there’s nothing between us, she’s just another teacher I’m working with. I’m not doing any-

- Stop.”

And he did it, mouth closing shut as you tried to not let all the doubts and the melancholy that invaded you today be perceived in your voice or your touch. You stood on your tippy toes to kiss his lips softly, hoping that it would calm him down a little.

“- I didn’t think anything about it, okay ? I’m not mad, or sad, or anything else. And you can do absolutely what you want, you know, it’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything. I don’t have a word to say about your relationships.”

The words hurt you, but they hurt him too. He knew you weren’t his girlfriend, he made that clear enough so you understood that nothing like that could ever happen. But it still felt wrong to hear you say that, he still felt bad at seeing the slight discomfort in your eyes. However, you didn’t let him reflect on that too much as you let go of his hands.

“- Don’t worry about that, okay ? I have to go, I have plans with Dajeong for tonight but text me if you need anything.

- Yeah, have a good night angel.”

You smiled at him before leaving and Yunho’s heart clenched when he saw you go out one more time. Every night you spent together, you had always left before him, and every time, he wished you could stay a little more. And every time, he prayed that it would not be the last time he was going to see you. Even if everything about this was wrong, he didn’t want it to end, and for once, he wanted to be selfish. He wanted to think about himself, to put his happiness first and not everyone else’s opinions.

That’s why when you told him you had a really bad day, a few weeks after this incident, he decided to think about what made him happier lately and put you first. So he picked you up after class, without telling you where you were going, but it had become a habit of his to never reveal the destination of your little adventures. The ride was silent, the music being the only sound disturbing the quiet atmosphere, but as soon as Yunho parked on the hill that overlooked the whole city so you could see the sunset, you bursted into tears. Yunho pulled you into his lap, running his hands through your hair to calm you down, and encouraging you to talk to him.

“- Tell me what’s going on, angel.

- I’m just… Everything I do, it’s never enough. There’s always someone who’s doing it better, there’s always someone to remind me that I’m enough. I’m never enough, for anything or anyone.”

Seeing you like that broke his heart, but Yunho didn’t let his own emotions overpower him. He cradled your face in his hands, whipping your tears away tenderly.

“- You are enough Y/N, you’ve always been enough and the way you’re feeling right now does not reflect what you really are. You’re doing so much all the time, and for everyone. I promise you are enough, angel. And I’m proud of the person you are, I’m proud of you.”

You nuzzled your head in his chest, a little more serene than five minutes before, his scent soothing your heart and your mind, and his touch so soft and delicate you could’ve fallen asleep in his arms. You stayed like that for a moment, not needing to say anything else as his presence was enough to get you to relax, and you couldn’t say if you spent ten minutes or an hour like that, but you felt so peaceful you didn’t want to move. Whenever you were with him, it was like a little bubble engulfed the two of you, and that nothing else existed beside him and everything he was making you feel.

“- Thank you, Yu.”

And you pecked his lips to reinforce that idea. And Yunho pushed away a strand of your hair before he kissed you too, deepening it when you whimpered against his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him closer to you. And you stayed there, simply making out and quietly talking about nothing and everything. But it was enough to calm you down. And it was enough for Yunho to be sure about what he wanted to do. But not now. Not when you were so vulnerable he felt like you could break in his arms.

“- Can you take me home ? I’m tired.

- Of course, angel. I just need to stop by the gas station.”

You nodded and kissed him one last time before getting back in your seat. Your mood was much better on the way back, casually chatting with Yunho as he drove you home with his hand comfortably resting on your thigh. You mindlessly played with his fingers, not really paying attention to the road. You only registered the notifications noises from his phone when he was out and paying for his gas. You glanced at his illuminated screen, not really wanting to know who was texting him but just out of habit, and the nickname of the person texting him was all you needed to know. “My girl 💕” was enough to understand that you weren’t the only one, that he wasn’t as invested in this relationship as you. You were aware of all these things, but to be hit by the realisation, to be faced with the truth was harsh. When he sat back down in his seat, you had to brace yourself so the tears wouldn’t spill from your eyes, so the words you were about to scream at his face wouldn’t slip out from your mouth.

“- Are you alright, angel ?

- Hum, yeah, I just wanna go home and sleep. Don't worry.”

You offered him a little smile and he caressed your cheek, but you had to mentally restrain yourself from pushing his hand away. You let him drive you home, forcing yourself to smile and seem normal and composed. Only when you were snuggled underneath your blankets did you allow yourself to let the tears fall freely from your eyes. You were expecting this to stop at some point, but not like that. You were trusting him, you thought he was telling you the truth, you thought that what would separate you would only be the fact that it was impossible, but not that.

It was so unlike him, always so kind and gentle, always thinking about you and your comfort first. That was surely why you never thought he would do something like that. But after all, you should've seen it coming. This was truly too good to be true, too perfect to last. But you would've wanted it to last for a little longer, for forever. And coming back to reality was hard, it was like waking up from a dream to realise you were only living in a nightmare all this time. That night, you fell asleep with his scent still lingering on your clothes, and dried tears covering your cheeks.

The next morning, you weren’t doing any better, if not worse. The truth was sinking in, and you were not strong enough to answer his texts yet, leaving him on read and purposely ignoring his demand to see you today. You got up from your bed either way, only because you needed to eat to compensate for your empty heart, and that what Dajeong must have cooked smelled really good.

“- Wow ! You look like a zombie. A cute zombie, but still a zombie.”

You smiled a little, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You sat down on the stool of the kitchen, watching your roommate finishing up your meal, mind clouded with thoughts of him even if he was the last thing you wanted to think about.

“- On a serious note, are you alright ?”

The casual question made you tear up again, and you had to take a deep breath so you would not cry again. Dajeong turned off the stove and came to sit down beside you, one hand resting on your shoulder as she encouraged you to talk to her. And you did. You told her everything about what had been going on between Yunho and you for months. It felt like it all started yesterday, like it was only a dream. But with the way it was about to end, you rather have not started this at all.

“- I would’ve never thought that you would be the type to go out with our teacher.

- I know. There’s just something about him that I can’t get enough of. I… I think I love him.”

It was the first time you dared to say the words. But it was true. You loved him even if you tried to resist it, even if you tried not to succumb to the temptation he was. But you gave in, and you were happy for as long as it lasted. You knew it would hurt, but you didn’t think it would hurt that much. You underestimated how important he became, how much you relied on him for everything.

“- And it’s not even the fact that he has a girlfriend or someone else that makes me mad, I was okay with that because I had come to terms with the fact that I will never be more than what we were. But he treated me like I was more, he made me think that he cared about me just to pull out something like that. And I had to find out, he didn’t even have the balls to tell me himself.

- He’s a coward, I must admit. And he clearly doesn’t deserve you. He could have never loved you like you need to be loved, you’ll always be a secret with him. It’s better like that.

- Maybe. But it hurts.”

Some tears escaped your eyes again, and Dajeong didn’t hesitate before pulling you into a tight hug, caressing your head as a way to calm you down. She knew how much a heartbreak could hurt, especially when it ended up like that, especially when it was as intense as what you had.

“- I know, lovely. It’s gonna take time, but it’s gonna stop hurting eventually. But I think you should talk with him, ask him clearly what’s going on before completely cutting him out of your life. You need closure, you at least deserve that.”

You nodded as Dajeong proposed that you spent the day together, doing some skincare and talking again and again about the same people for the hundredth time while watching some silly movies to cheer you up. And you did exactly that, trying to not think about him for at least one day. You were anxious to go back to class on Monday, fearing that everything would be awkward, or that he would completely ignore you. Somehow, you found the courage to send him a text throughout the weekend, simply to tell him that you needed some space, some time to think about you and him. You didn’t see the point of lying to him, and you silenced his notifications just after. You were strong enough to answer him, but not to witness him pretend and care about you.

Your resolve started to crumble when you saw how miserable he looked the next few days in class. His eye bags were terrible, and he seemed to have lost all his energy. Usually, Yunho would animate all his classes and passionately teach you his subject, but lately, he was only giving you some group work to do, keeping his interventions to a minimum. He spent his time sitting at his desk, either trying to grade some papers or zoning out, looking through the windows. Everytime his sad eyes fell into yours, your heart clenched and ached. But you didn’t have the strength to confront him about what you saw on his phone. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted him to deny, to tell you it was not what you were thinking and that you were the only one - even if you knew it was impossible and that dreaming about it made everything hurt ten times more badly.

You missed him. You missed hearing his voice, his laugh. You missed his smile, and the dimple he had when you made a terrible joke he couldn’t help giggling at. You missed his touch, the way every time his skin was against yours everything else disappeared. You missed being in his arms, and the sentiment of security it gave you. You simply missed him, and having to see him everyday without being able to look at him for more than a few seconds was a torture. And even if you had unblocked him because you were weak, you continued to ignore every one of his texts and calls either way. It was painful, but a lot less than if he told you face to face that he had someone else, that he lied to you, that he made you fall head over heels for you before fucking it all up, before crushing your heart in between his fingers.

One day, when you came back to your dorm, you found flowers waiting for you by the door. There was no card with it, but Yunho was the only one who knew that lilies were your favourite flowers. And you cried again when you opened the trash can only to find yourself unable to throw the bouquet away. So you kept it, putting it in a vase and placing it on the kitchen’s counter, seeing him every time you looked at the flowers.

Another day, when you handed him back an assignment and that your hand brushed against his, it was like time stopped for a moment. Your breath was knocked out of your lungs as you looked up at him, and the plethora of emotions you caught dancing in Yunho’s eyes was enough to bring you back to when he was calling you angel, to when he was treating you like the most beautiful girl in the world. You ran away as quickly as possible, because you were on the verge of telling him that you loved him, and that it would only make things even more complicated than they already were. You felt so stupid for falling for your teacher, but you felt even more ridiculous for believing that you could be more than a side piece to him.

However, that didn’t stop you from looking at the texts he sent to you, asking you to come meet him in his office because he wanted to explain everything properly. You heard Dajeong words ringing in your head as you took a deep breath and entered the room you had grown familiar with. His scent surrounded you immediately, and Yunho jumped upon your arrival. His glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose, and his hair were completely dishevelled. You still managed to be smitten by his ethereal beauty. But the way he was looking at you with such desperation forced you to avoid his gaze quickly.

“- Y/N…”

His voice broke down, and your heart broke too, a little more every time he tried to start a sentence. Yunho wanted to forget everything, to hold you in his arms and promise you the world. But he couldn’t, and the way you were hugging yourself made him want to get down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. In all honesty, he would do it in the blink of an eye if you asked him, he would do anything if it meant you would forgive him. But it was nearly impossible, and he was well aware of that, but you deserved an explanation - that and so much more.

“- What did you want to tell me ?”

Your tone was harsher than you wanted it to be, and you didn’t dare look his way, and Yunho didn’t dare make a step in your direction, afraid that you would run away again. But he had to tell you the truth, he had to be honest for once.

“- It’s not what you think, angel.

- Please, spare me with that, I’m not blind, nor an idiot.

- No, you’re not… And that’s why you deserve to know what is going on. The message you saw the other night was from… My girlfriend.”

You knew it, but to hear him say it was different. It hit exactly the right spot to reopen some wounds that had never healed. You already felt on the verge of tears, but you tried to keep them under control, gripping the handles of your tote bag to ground yourself in reality and brace yourself for what was coming.

“- But I don’t love her anymore, it's been a long time since I’ve stopped feeling anything for her. We met when we were in highschool, and we were a good match at that time. She was my friend before becoming more, but after all this time, there's nothing left of what I felt for her in the beginning. We were only kids, I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life and my family had already planned my future with her. They want me to marry her. But I don’t, not at all. But if I leave her, I know that they will never want to see me again. So I stayed with her but you made me realise what it was to live and be happy again, and that I don’t want to marry someone I don't genuinely love.”

While he was talking, Yunho took some steps in your direction, trying to maintain eye contact with you even if all he wanted was to slap himself in the face for how stupid he had been to think he could handle this the way he did it, to think that you would never discover his secret. At least, you were here. At least, you were listening to him. It should mean something. It should mean that everything wasn’t over yet, right ? Yunho held on to that, but when he tried to reach for your hand and you took a step back, your eyes glistening with tears, it was hard to believe that everything could be alright. And to know that he was the reason you were crying made him feel even more guilty.

“- I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, angel. I wanted to do it a million times, but I was so afraid of losing what we had, I didn’t want to freak you out. And I couldn’t lose you. You are my oxygen, my breath of fresh air in the middle of all this mess, and I need you. I promise I wanted to tell you everything the night you discovered it. But you became so quiet all of sudden, and when I looked at my phone, I assumed you had seen her text. But I swear on my life, I wanted to tell you. I should’ve never lied to you in the first place, I know that, and you can’t imagine how sorry I am.”

You were now sobbing uncontrollably, trying to cover up your voice with your hand, but the hot tears falling down your cheeks were enough proof of how affected you were. Yunho wanted to cradle you in his arms, to protect you from the world like he always did, but he couldn’t shield you from himself and his mistakes. He was supposed to be your safe place, your comfort zone, not to make you feel like that.

“- Do you understand how bad I felt when I saw this message, Yunho ? I… I knew this wouldn’t last, but to realise that you lied to me all this time was even more painful. You made me believe that we had a future together, and you treated me like your girlfriend even when I was not, even when you had someone waiting for you at home. And it hurts.”

Your voice broke down on the last words. You felt pathetic, some kind of silly, naive girl who couldn’t see what was right in front of her eyes, some kind of idiot who thought that it could end well, that it could end without you suffering too much.

“- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. And I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising if that’s what you want. We can have a future together, I want a future with you.

- I can’t see it. I-I can’t ask you to leave her, and to turn your back on your whole family for me. ”

One tear rolled down Yunho’s cheek, and you wanted to wipe it away, but he did it himself before you could do anything. It was better like that. If you felt his skin against yours again, you didn’t know if you would be able to finish what you started.

“- I could do it. If it’s what it takes to keep you with me I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. I love you, Y/N. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. I love you so bad it makes my heart ache. I’m ready to do everything it takes to be with you. Everything.”

You should’ve been happy to hear these words you were longing for him to say, only weeks prior. But right now, it only broke your heart more, it only pushed the knife a little deeper into your open wounds.

“- That’s not what I want for you, you deserve better. I don’t want to fuck up your whole life, even if it meant I could love you.

- But you are my whole life, you’re the only thing I need.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to say yes so bad. You wanted to fall back into his touch, to fall back into his arms. But you couldn’t. Still, you let him caress your cheek, swiping his thumb against it to get rid of the tears that had dropped there. It was like you could finally breathe, as if the weight on your heart and the knot in your throat had disappeared only because he touched you. He always had that effect on you. But you had to leave, you had to leave or you would cave in and you knew it wasn’t good for you. So you took his hand in yours, pushing it away slowly, as if not to scare him away. You looked up into his teary, brown eyes. It broke your heart to see him in such a state, but you had to think about yourself too. You had to take care of yourself now that he wasn’t here to do that anymore.

“- I’m sorry, I need some time to think. I’m… Not sure I can love you like this anymore. I’m sorry.”

He tried to smile at you, but it was joyless, without this little sparkle in his eyes that you loved so much.

“- You don’t have to apologise, angel. You did nothing wrong, I’m the one who fucked up. I’m the only one to blame here. Take all the time you need, I’ll wait for you.”

You nodded, and you finally let go of his hand, painfully slow to feel his touch for as long as possible. You took a last look at him before turning away and unlocking the door of his office.

“- Goodbye, Yunho.”

It felt like you were saying farewell, and Yunho wanted to run after you, to beg you to let him still be a part of your life. But he had to respect your choice. So he stayed still, standing there as if it could freeze time in place and give him the ability to come back in time and do things differently. But it was too late, and the only thing he could do was give you space and hope you would grant him a second chance, and hope you would be kind enough to forgive him even if he didn’t deserve it at all.

You thought that clearing up the situation with Yunho would make it easier for you to move on and forget him as you had initially planned, but you clearly were in the wrong. Feeling his eyes on you was even more painful now. But at least, he seemed to have found his energy back. It was the only thing that made you feel a little better. Because you felt like shit, even if you tried to convince yourself that what you did was for the best, that you couldn’t be together, that you had to be sensible, you didn’t want to do all that. You craved his touch, his kisses, his loving gaze. You craved him and his soothing aura. You craved his love. You wanted him back, but everything was so complicated, everything was so messed up, you weren’t even sure it could work.

Even if Yunho respected your wish for space and time, he still hadn’t stopped texting you throughout your days - reminders for you to drink, eat and rest properly. You never answered but you saw the messages and it was all that mattered to him. And even if he tried to come back to his daily life, to his routine, he couldn’t. You had taken such an important place in his heart that everything felt empty without you and your smile to brighten his world. Nothing felt as appealing as before. Reading couldn’t take his mind out of things anymore, because he could only see your annotations on the ones you had given to him. And everytime he passed by Mrs McMillan bookstore, his thoughts immediately came back to you and how pretty you looked that day.

So when some colleagues from the university invited him to have some drinks after work, he said yes. Yunho hoped that some alcohol and talking about anything and everything could take his mind off of you. But all it did was make it worse. With each drink, he felt the urge to call you even stronger. All he wanted was to at least hear your voice, hear his name fall from your lips, see your face, even if the pain he caused was written all over it.

“- Angel…

- Yunho ? Why are you calling me ? Is there something wrong.”

He sighed in relief at finally hearing your voice ringing in his ears again, at finally hearing you say his name. He preferred the surname you had granted him, but he would take everything that you were willing to give him.

“- I just… I miss you, and I need you, and I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you again. Because I feel like I didn’t apologise enough.

- It’s okay, I swear. I told you I need some time. Everything is…. Puzzling.

- Still, I’m sorry.

- I know you are.”

There was silence, but the fact that you hadn’t hung up yet made a little bit of hope blossom in his heart. Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe there was still a world in which you could grant him your forgiveness.

“- I can’t imagine my life without you. I tried. But I can’t. I need you, angel.

- You know that we can’t, that I can’t. You have a girlfriend, and your family, a career. I can’t just come in and mess up everything.

- I don’t care about all of that. If I’m with you it’s worth it. Please, angel, let me at least see you, even if it’s the last time I get to have you. I want you, one last time. After that, I’ll let you go if that’s what you really want, and I promise you will never have to worry about me again.”

You stayed silent for a while again, your defeated sigh being the only noise echoing through the line.

“- Okay. But this is the last time.”

However, when you joined him in the hotel room you had grown familiar with, you didn’t want it to be the last time. You wanted to stay in his arms forever. You didn’t talk, afraid of the things you could say, afraid you would beg him to stay, to come back, to do exactly what he swore he would do if only you asked him. But you tried not to think about that as you let him kiss you tenderly, as if you were going to break under his touch. And you might, because you needed him so bad it made everything hurt when he was not there.

No words were exchanged as you got rid of your clothes. No words were exchanged when you pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his thighs. No words were needed when you kissed him for the first time in weeks. It felt like you could both finally breathe, like you felt alive again, and it made all the pain go away for just a moment.

“- I missed you, angel, missed you so fucking much…

- Me too, Yu.”

This was all you were able to say before he shut you up with another desperate kiss, making out with you as if it was the last time he got to have your lips on his - and maybe it would be. So you just decided to shut off your brain, simply running your hands through his hair and thinking about nothing else. You wanted to take your time and appreciate his touch, his eyes and the way he was moaning under your hands, but it felt like you were in a hurry, quickly discarding both of your underwear and sinking down on his cock. You gripped his shoulders, closing your eyes as you let yourself bask into the feeling of finally being full. But your desire took over you, grinding on his dick desperately.

And Yunho couldn’t look at your face, couldn’t see your beautiful eyes without thinking back to them filling up with tears the day he messed up everything between the two of you. But his body was overwhelmed by the feeling of you wrapped around him after weeks of only being able to look at you from afar, relying on his souvenirs to remember what it felt like to kiss you. He desperately wanted to engrave your face in his memories and keep it there forever, but it was too hard. So instead, he just flipped you over the bed, burying his head in your neck to not be tempted to cross your gaze anymore. But his hands still found their way to yours, fingers intertwining as he sped up the pace of his thrusts, both of you moaning in harmony.

It wasn’t as intimate or as emotional as Yunho wanted your last time together to be like. But the alcohol was clouding his mind even more than everything he felt for you, and the urge to make you his - even if you weren’t, and that you would never be - was taking over him more and more with every clench of your cunt around him.

“- Fuck, angel… Tell me you love me please…”

You didn’t want to, because you knew how that would make both of you feel, but the words spilled out from your lips before you could stop it, squeezing his hands tighter.

“- I love you, I love you so much…”

It was enough for Yunho to feel a rush of emotions and desire flood through his veins, his thrusts becoming sloppy and losing any kind of rhythm. It all felt too much, from the way he was hitting your sweet spot to the way his little whines mixed with “i love you”’s that made your heart throb and your mind wanting to hear more of them. It all felt too much to the point you felt on the verge of tears as he laid on top of you, trying to regain some consciousness. But you were fully aware of everything that had just happened, and even if you wanted nothing more than to spend another night in his arms, you knew it wouldn’t do you any good. So you stayed like that until he fell asleep, murmuring again and again against your skin how much you meant to him, that he needed you. And then you ran away, putting your clothes back on in a hurry and checking out your appearance in the mirror of the elevator you had grown familiar with. Except that this time, there was nothing left from the joyful sparkle that usually brightened your eyes whenever you left the hotel. All you could see was how miserable he made you once again, all you could see were the tears cascading down your cheeks and along the marks he left on your neck. You slapped your hand on your mouth, pathetically trying to cover up your sobs. It hurt even more than that day, for some reasons. It all hurt too much to hold it in.

When Yunho woke up in the morning to an empty bed, he was not surprised, but he was still disappointed. He wished he could have woken up one last time to your pretty and relaxed face, he wished he could have held you through the night one last time. Even if it happened only a few times, when you were too tired to go back to your dorms, it still felt incredibly right to open his eyes and see you all cuddled up against him. Getting up and leaving the room he had so many memories in revealed to be a lot more difficult than he thought it would have been. He took his time getting dressed and making sure he didn’t forget anything before slowly closing the door behind him. Taking a quick look at his reflection in the elevator’s mirror like you did only a few hours ago was enough to notice how wretched he was. His hair were a mess, his eye bags were even worse than a few days before despite him having overslept, and his clothes were wrinkled. But the way it was written all over his face was even more telling.

The ride back to his apartment was like a walk of shame - because he had promised to his girlfriend that he would be back before 2am, because he made you suffer again, because he felt like shit, like there was no escape from this situation he put himself in. Yunho only had time to hope that Hana was still asleep but as soon as he opened the door, she jumped from her spot on the couch where she had apparently spent a lot of time worrying, seeing how panicked she seemed.

“- Where were you !? You told me you would be back last night and it’s fucking 10am, Yunho !”

Her anger was totally justified, but the only thing he wanted to do right now was to just be swallowed by the floor, or to curl up in his bed and not get up for the next three years.

“- I’m sorry, baby, I…

- You what !? It’s the fourth time you’re pulling something like that on me this month, what is going on !?”

Yunho was ready to serve her another well prepared lie, the ones he kept on telling her since he started ditching her to be with you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say that they all got back to one of his coworkers apartment to keep drinking after the bar closed, and that his phone died so he couldn’t warn her about it, and that he was too drunk and out of his mind to think about borrowing one of his colleagues’. He couldn’t lie to her right now, he couldn’t anymore. And as if it was now a habit every time you sneaked into his mind, he felt tears prickling his eyes, dropping his head low like the coward he was because he couldn’t bear to see her hurt, to see her crying because of him too. And as it had become quite usual for him through the course of these last weeks, apologies slipped past his lips.

“- I’m sorry Hana, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry…

- Yunho… Tell me what happened, talk to me. You’ve been so distant and quiet lately, it’s not like you to be so… So absent.”

He wanted to answer, to finally tell her the truth, to tell her everything, but he couldn’t get any word to leave his mouth, only quiet sobs resonating in the hallway as he tried to stop the tears from running down his cheeks. Slowly, Hana got closer to him, taking his hands in hers and guiding him to the couch where he sat down without any resistance and let her pull him into a hug. She could hear his voice shaking and breaking down everytime he let out another apology. It took a long moment for Yunho to finally be able to calm down and find his words back. And when he did, it didn’t make things easier, it didn’t make telling her easier.

“- I… I met someone.”

The sad but knowing smile spreading on her lips told him everything he needed to know. Because, of course, she was not dumb. Of course, she had understood a long time ago what was going on. Of course, Yunho was the only asshole, the only one to blame for everything he put her, and you, through.

“- I expected you to say that.

- I’m so fucking sorry, Hana. I never meant for that to happen, I hadn’t even thought about doing that before I met her. And once it started I couldn’t stop, and when I wanted to tell you everything, it was already too late to not hurt you, and I just got carried away. I’m sorry, I really didn-

- Stop ! Just… Stop.”

So Yunho did, anxiously watching her as she ran a hand through her hair, probably trying to come up with an easy way to tell him that he was a bastard. Which he was, to be honest.

“- I’m not an idiot. I know that you stopped loving me years ago, Yunho. And I’m not blind either, I saw how you got that sparkle in your eyes back one day, and I knew very well it was not because of me. And before you say anything about being sorry, I know it. I know you are, and I know that you wouldn’t have wanted to hurt me even if I’m just a friend in your eyes.

- Hana…

- Don’t look at me like that, it’s not a big deal. We’ve been a couple since highschool, it was impossible for us to keep on loving each other until the end of times. I stopped feeling any romantic feelings a while ago, too. Our families are simply what they are, and we can’t change them. But I’m kind of glad you gave us a valid excuse to break up.”

Yunho couldn’t help the giggles that escaped him. She always had that dark humour that he loved so much, and that nobody got except for him and her.

“- You did not just forgive me for cheating on you because you wanna break up, right ?

- Oh, I certainly did !”

Both of them laughed it off, and it was like a weight was lifted off of his chest, like he could finally breathe a little better. Not as well as when he was with you, but it was a little less bad, now.

“- You’re sure you wanna do this ? You know how much trouble we’re gonna get into if we break up, right ?

- I know, and trust me when I tell you that I’ve thought about it a lot before. And I’m ready, I don’t want them to dictate my life anymore. I think you can understand that better than everyone else.

- Yeah.”

Silence fell back onto the room, and Yunho never felt more at home in his own apartment than after having agreed to break up with his years-long relationship. But he knew it was better like that, knew that they both needed to finally close this chapter of their life and take a new beginning.

“- We’re still friends, though, right ? I still need to hear you spill all the tea about your weird coworkers.”

Hana laughed loudly, and the smile spreading on her lips had never been this wide since so much time that he almost forgot what she looked like when she was happy.

“- Of course ! And I wanna know all the updates about that girl, because she must be brave to want to engage in a relationship with you.”

It was his turn to smile and let happiness fill him again. Why he waited so much time to finally be honest with her when it was clear that they had no feelings for each other anymore would certainly forever be an enigma. But at least, they were both free. At least, Hana could find someone that will truly love her, that will love her like she deserved to be loved. And Yunho didn’t know if that would be enough to convince you that he was serious about you, that he truly loved you, but he had to try. Because you were worth every tear he shed, and all the pain in the world. He would go through these weeks of anguish again and again if it meant you would take him back.

But Yunho had always been a gentleman - and yeah, it was ironic to describe himself like that after everything he had done - and he let you have as much time as you needed, as much space as you asked for. And even when the urge of letting you know about everything that happened was strong, he resisted the temptation to call you, or to send you a text he knew you would not read because you stopped doing that since that night.

Everytime his gaze crossed yours in class, it was as if the first time he kissed you in that empty classroom replayed in his mind, it was as if he could still see himself wearing his leather jacket more often only because it still smelled like you and your perfume, it was as if he could still hear you say you loved him for the first time. Everytime his gaze crossed yours in class, he wished you wouldn’t shy away, he wished you wouldn’t look so hurt, he wished he could go back in time and not do all the mistakes he did, he wished he could do everything right and make you happy, and love you right.

Still, he let you run away after every class so you wouldn’t risk staying in his presence too much. Still, he let you slip through his hands a little more every time you answered his questions about books he had given to you without that energy and passion you had when it was only the two of you in that hotel room, when everything was still perfect. But it also felt like if he didn’t do something right now, you were gonna leave and never come back in his life. He had to do something, he had to stop being a loser, he had to show you that you were never the second choice.

You were surprised to find another bouquet of lilies on your doorstep before going to class on a random Wednesday. It had been weeks since you last talked to him outside of classes, and it had been more than two months since you last looked at his texts. You weren’t strong enough to block his number again, but you tried not to open the messages anymore. This time there was something written on a little note ; him asking you to meet him by the hill he showed you the night it all went down if you were willing to listen to him, and that if you didn’t come, he would understand that you didn’t want to see him again and that he would leave you alone, no questions asked.

You thought that you would hesitate more, but in your heart, you had already made the decision to go as soon as you saw the bouquet of your favourite flowers he managed to remember even months after you told him. When you parked your car at the spot he had showed you, his was already there. Yunho was waiting for you, contemplating the cityscape, leaning against the hood of his car, hands in the pockets of his black pants, his white tee moving along with the wind. He looked good in anything, but these simple outfits were always making him look so cosy that you wanted nothing more than snuggling in his arms.

The warmer wind of the end of spring hit your face as soon as you put your feet outside, the breeze making your hair and the skirt of your flowy dress fly around like you were in some type of dramatic movie. Expect that in those, it always ended well, and that you knew for a fact that your happy end was impossible. But Yunho turned to look at you almost in slow motion, and this time, you couldn’t avoid his intense stare, and this time, you wanted to dive back into whatever the two of you had.

“- You came.”

His voice was steady, but you could still hear the relief seeping through his words.

“- You asked.”

It was as simple as that, as simple as breathing and walking, as simple as reading and writing. He asked, he called, and you were there in a heartbeat because you would sell your soul for him.

“- We broke up. We agreed that we didn’t love each other anymore for a long time, and that it was the best decision for both of us.”

You wanted to be sarcastic, wanted to tell him something along the lines of “you want a medal or something”, but it was only because you didn’t know how to deal with that information. Because you didn’t know if it meant anything to him, if it meant anything to you. Before you could think about a kinder response, Yunho continued.

“- I told you I was willing to do everything if it meant I could be with you, and I was serious. This is the first step, and I’m gonna go all the way even if you’re not willing to give me a second chance because you made me realise how wrong I was all this time.

- But you have a family, friends and a job. You won’t give all that up for me, I don’t want you to.

- Angel, I’m taking all these risks because it’s for you, because I want you to see that I’m ready to do anything it takes to be with you, and that I’ll keep proving that you didn’t make a mistake by choosing me if you’re letting me come back into your life. My family gave up on me a long while ago, it’s only time for them to understand everything they put me through. And I believe that my friends will be wise enough to choose to support me, because you’re my happiness, and that’s what they should wish for me.

- Yes, but you’ll still be my teacher.

- I’ve been your teacher until then and it didn’t cause any problems, did it ? And even if I got in trouble, I know we would figure something out. You mean everything to me Y/N, and I will spend the rest of my life making myself worthy of you if you let me because I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else before.”

Your mind wanted you to say no, but your heart was begging for you to say yes, to give in, to let yourself be happy. And for once, you decided to stop being reasonable. For once, you decided to let things go, to let him guide you through it, to let yourself live.

“- You already are. You’ve always been worthy of me, Yu. I-I love you too, I love you so much.”

This time, when tears started to run down your cheeks, Yunho didn’t hesitate one second before pulling you into his arms, running his fingers against your back to soothe you. The way you immediately circled his waist to have him closer to you made his heartbeat pick up, and you chuckled lightly against his chest when you noticed it. And you stayed like that for who knows how long. The only thing you were aware of was that you’ve never felt as good as when you were in his arms. And maybe it was wrong, maybe it was a mistake. But it felt just right, it clicked perfectly, like the last pieces of a puzzle you had forgotten on your desk for years and that you finally came back to complete only now. When you raised your head to look him in the eyes, Yunho smiled, and you couldn’t help doing the same, especially when he kissed your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips.

“- In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

You wanted to slap him for being so cheesy, but the way your heart missed a couple of beats at the intensity with which he was looking into your eyes rendered you unable to talk, unable to think about some quote to say back to him.

“- If you keep on confessing to me like that, I might give in, you know…

- Don’t worry about that, angel, I have a ton of citations you’re gonna love.”

His boyish grin made you smile wider, and you couldn’t help the urge to kiss him again, because now you had the right to do so. Being the teacher’s pet had its downsides, but in terms of love confessions, you were certain that Yunho would never run out of ideas. And you were okay with that, because as long as he was with you and that you were with him, there was no way something would go wrong. You smiled at him, and he smiled at you, and as the sun set behind you like in the romance movies you despised, you thought that maybe, happy endings were not so bad in the end, especially when you were the one getting kissed passionately at the end of the film.

-> i don't allow any copies, translations or reposts of my work.

-> moon dividers by @samspenandsword

ateez masterlist (fill in this to be added) :

@sharonxdevi @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @foxinnie8 @riraives

#ateez x reader #ateez fics #long fic #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #yunho angst #college au #eli: teacher's pet

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miserycanary · 6 months

Text

TELL ME THAT WE'LL BE JUST FINE ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶ ⤷ next

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: the aftermath (inspired by T.S Afterglow)

tags: light angst (no comfort/comfort? who knows)

The door creaks open, the cheeriness that you usually carry to greet Ghost by the entrance of your shared home nowhere in sight. The whole place was eerily quiet with his footsteps the only source of life. “My love..?” he calls out, peeking in the kitchen where you’d usually be sitting with a laptop in front of you, the food forgotten and burning. It’s usually unsalvageable and you guys would just agree on ordering take-out while he soothes and assures you that you don’t have to cook for him.

His long legs quickly take him to the bathroom, hoping he’d see you washing up and offering him to shower along with you. The water would run high as you let him wash you up while chatting about your day, then you'd do the same to him and he complains about the “useless recruits”; the vice versa. Yet, there was no silhouette of you there. With a sigh, he closes the door and approaches the final room.

There, Ghost sees you laying down with your legs huddled close to your chest. He noticed the little hiccups— an indication that you’ve been crying— and that broke his heart. When he watched your figure walk away from him, he knew he fucked up and that he hurt you. Ghost calls for you once again with a gentle voice, trying to coax you. “Y/N..? Baby..?” He approaches the bed. The mattress dips as he sits behind you and placed a heavy hand on the shoulder he saw was developing a bruise. Just the sight of the darkening blemish almost made him throw up. He did this. He did this to you, his darling flower.

After his skin made contact with yours, you flinched and distanced yourself like you’re afraid he’d hurt you again. The way you looked at him was so.. foreign and unusual. Like he was an animal that’s going to attack any minute. He stilled at your reaction, betrayed at how could you even think of him like that. Ghost stayed silent and so did you, only staring at the wall in contemplation. Finally, the silence was cracked by something much worse. At that moment, Ghost would rather endure a century of you ignoring him than to accept the words that came out of your mouth.

“I’m leaving. I talked to one of my friends and she’s letting me stay with her,” you mumbled. The pain shooting through Ghost’s heart was unlike any other. It felt like he lost his heart— because he did. “What..? No, no. Let’s talk, baby,” he begs of you, clasping both your hands with his and peppers it with kisses, yet you only pull away. His lungs seem to not take in any air. Everything you say was inaudible to him. The only thing running through his mind was he was losing you. That he was losing the only thing that made life worth living— worth surviving each day because he knows he’ll always have you to come home to, with a smile so warm and a hug so comforting.

“No! I’m not letting you leave,” he cuts you off. The firmness in his voice sent shivers down your spine but you stood your ground. “Ghost,” you start.

| ‘Don’t call me that. I’m Simon. I’m your Si. Why would you call me Ghost?’

“I’m tired of this, okay? I’m tired of you trying to act like everything will pass and that it could be fixed by just burying it under the mushy lovey stuff. I’m tired of never getting an apology from you because you cannot communicate.”

| ‘I know that. I know I’m not the best at talking but don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. Please’

Ghost stays silent because he knows everything you said was true, while you desperately look at his eyes. The hope that he’d finally muster the courage to talk and ask you to stay was slowly being forgotten. Was this all you’re worth to him? Were you not worth being asked to stay? Won’t he at least try?

“I’m leaving and that’s final.”

| ‘Please don’t let me go, Si. Please tell me you want me to stay and that you’re sorry. That you’d do better. Please just say anything. I’m going to stay with you if you just tell me to. Don’t let this be our end. Fight for me… fight for us’

“Okay,” he whispers, getting up and leaving you alone in the bedroom you usually would say carry the love you guys bloomed for 9 years with the walls painted with your memories and milestones with him. Now it serves as the grave of what you guys were— of what you and Simon had.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: part 2 is here!! I hope it passed people’s expectations.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @fictionallifestuff

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost riley #ghost angst #simon riley cod #cod x reader #cod mwii #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #canary’s melodies

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leftoverpages · 3 months

Text

Starlit Sands

Pairing 𓅪 Knight!Benjicot "Davos" Blackwood x Targaryen!reader

Tags 𓅪 forbidden love, angst, fluff-ish, no war AU, reader uses she/her but no physical description, she’s Rhaenyra’s daughter (no mention of the father)

Notes: spent all day writing for this man so you’re going to be fed for the next few days <3

Wordcount 𓅪 1.1k

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen's chambers in the Red Keep were a sanctuary of silk and velvet, where whispered secrets echoed in the tapestries and the scent of jasmine lingered in the air. From her window, Y/N watched the city of King's Landing bustle and buzz with life below, the setting sun casting a fiery glow over the rooftops. It was here, amidst the opulence of her mother's court, that she felt most trapped.

Tonight, however, a restlessness stirred within her heart, a yearning for something beyond the gilded confines of the castle. With nimble fingers, she unlatched the window and slipped out into the twilight, her silken gown billowing softly in the evening breeze. Moonlight bathed her in its gentle embrace as she made her way through deserted corridors and shadowed alcoves, guided by the distant murmur of the sea.

Unbeknownst to her, Ser Benjicot Blackwood stood vigilant outside her door, his silver armor gleaming in the flickering torchlight. His duty as a knight of the Kingsguard demanded unwavering vigilance, yet tonight, his thoughts strayed to the young princess whose safety was his charge. As the hours wore on, a sense of unease gnawed at him, prompting him to check on her.

When Lady Rhaenyra arrived at her daughter's chambers, her brow furrowed with concern. "Where is Y/N?" she demanded of the guards stationed outside, her voice edged with urgency.

"She was here, Your Grace," one of the guards stammered, his eyes darting nervously. "But we haven't seen her leave."

Rhaenyra's jaw tightened with worry. "Find her," she ordered sharply, her tone brooking no argument. "Now."

Meanwhile, Y/N reached the deserted beach at the edge of the Blackwater Rush, her bare feet sinking into the cool, damp sand. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery path upon the water's surface as waves whispered secrets to the shore. The rhythmic ebb and flow of the tide beckoned to her, offering solace amidst the tumult of her thoughts.

She paused at the water's edge, her gaze drawn to the horizon where the last remnants of daylight clung stubbornly to the sky. Stars began to twinkle overhead, painting the heavens with their ancient light. In that moment, Y/N felt a profound sense of peace, as if the weight of her responsibilities had been momentarily lifted.

Ser Benjicot, racing against time and worry, finally caught sight of Y/N's figure silhouetted against the waves. Relief flooded through him as he quickened his pace, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. "Y/N!" he called out, his voice echoing across the deserted beach.

Startled, Y/N turned to face him, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of guilt. "Ser Benjicot," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. "I... I needed..."

Her words faltered, caught between explanation and apology, as Ser Benjicot approached her with measured steps. "My lady," he began, his tone a mixture of reproach and concern. "You cannot simply wander off like this. Your safety..."

Y/N met his gaze, her expression a mix of defiance and vulnerability. "I needed to escape," she confessed softly, her voice tinged with melancholy. "To breathe, to feel... alive."

Ser Benjicot's stern countenance softened as he regarded her with a depth of understanding that belied his knightly demeanor. "Your safety is paramount," he insisted, his voice tinged with anguish. "I cannot bear the thought of anything happening to you."

Y/N reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing against his armored sleeve. "I know," she replied softly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "But sometimes, I need to remind myself that there's beauty beyond these walls."

Their gazes locked in a silent exchange fraught with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. Ser Benjicot's heart raced with conflicting emotions, torn between duty and the undeniable pull of his feelings for the young princess under his protection.

"Y/N," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "I am bound by oath, by duty..."

Before he could finish, Y/N closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of longing and forbidden passion. In that fleeting moment, time stood still as they shared a stolen embrace, their hearts beating in unison beneath the starlit sky.

When they finally pulled away, their breaths mingling in the salt-tinged air, Ser Benjicot's resolve wavered under the weight of their unspoken truth. "I cannot," he whispered hoarsely, his voice betraying the turmoil within. "I should not..."

Y/N silenced him with a gentle touch to his lips, her eyes shimmering with determination. "Sometimes, Ser Benjicot," she murmured, her voice filled with quiet resolve, "love cannot be bound by duty alone."

With a heavy heart and a lingering touch, Y/N turned towards the Red Keep, leaving Ser Benjicot alone with the echo of their forbidden kiss and the weight of their unspoken yearning.

But instead of leaving, Y/N hesitated, feeling the pull of the serene beach and the quiet company of the knight who watched over her. She turned back to Ser Benjicot, whose expression mirrored her inner turmoil.

"Let’s stay," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle rush of the waves. "Just for a moment."

Ser Benjicot hesitated, torn between his duty and the undeniable bond that had formed between them. But in the end, his heart won over his sense of duty, and he sank down beside her on the soft sand, his armor creaking softly with the movement.

They sat in silence, watching as the last vestiges of daylight faded from the sky, giving way to a tapestry of stars that glittered like diamonds overhead. Y/N leaned against Ser Benjicot, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek.

"This is beautiful," she whispered, her voice filled with wonder as she traced the outline of a constellation with her finger.

Ser Benjicot glanced down at her, his gaze softening as he looked upon the young princess who had captured his heart. "Yes," he agreed quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "But not as beautiful as you."

Y/N met his gaze, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I know we cannot be together," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "But in this moment, let us forget about duty and honor."

Ser Benjicot's hand found hers, intertwining their fingers together in a silent promise. "Just for tonight," he vowed, his voice thick with emotion. "Let us be together."

They sat together in the tranquil embrace of the night, their hearts entwined amidst the stars and the whispering waves. For in that fleeting moment, duty and love coexisted harmoniously, bound by the silent oath of their hearts.

And as the moon sailed high overhead, casting its silvery light upon the world below, Y/N and Ser Benjicot watched the sunset fade into memory, cherishing the fragile yet enduring bond they had forged amidst the serenity of the beach, knowing their love was a secret whispered between the stars.

#benjicot blackwood x reader #davos blackwood #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #game of thrones #asoiaf #benjicot blackwood

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sunny44 · 24 days

Text

Never the first choice

Pairing: Lando Norris x bf!reader

Warnings: angst, crying, fighting

Summary: Y/n is never Lando’s first choice.

I sat at the restaurant table, trying to focus on the conversation. The guy in front of me was kind, funny, and interesting—everything someone could want on a date. But my mind was elsewhere. Every time he smiled, I imagined someone else's smile. When he spoke, it was as if I was waiting for someone else's voice to fill the silence.

"Are you okay?" he asked, noticing my distraction.

I forced a smile. "Yes, I'm fine. Sorry, I'm just a little tired."

He nodded, accepting my excuse without question. But the truth was much more complicated. Lando was always somewhere in the back of my mind, whether he was at a McLaren practice, at a Grand Prix, or even when I was on dates like this. I hated myself for it. I hated myself for not being able to move on, for still being stuck on someone who didn’t have the courage to choose me.

I was about to ask for the check, determined to end the date before my heart got even more tangled, when I saw him. Lando walked into the restaurant, his eyes immediately finding mine, as if he had some kind of radar that always guided him to me.

"Y/n?" my date called my attention, realizing that I was staring at something—or someone—behind him.

"Sorry, I just need a minute," I murmured, already standing up. I didn’t know what he was doing here, but I knew nothing good could come of it.

I walked over to Lando, meeting him near the entrance, with an expression I knew all too well—determination mixed with possessiveness.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, trying to stay calm.

"I... I needed to talk to you," he replied, his voice tense.

"Now? In the middle of my date?" I could already feel my patience running thin. Lando always showed up at the most inconvenient times, as if he knew exactly when I was about to move on.

"Yes, now," he insisted, stepping closer to me. "This guy isn’t right for you."

That was the last straw. "You cannot be serious. You crash my date to tell me this guy isn’t right for me? And who are you to decide that, Lando?"

Before he could respond, my date approached, a look of confusion on his face. "Is everything okay here?"

I wanted to scream, to apologize to him, but all I could do was shake my head.

"I... I’m leaving." Lando stepped closer to me, but I raised my hand, signaling him to stop. "No. Don’t touch me."

The other guy—who didn’t matter much to me anymore, since my heart was focused on Lando—shook his head in resignation. "I guess I’ll leave you two to talk."

I watched him walk away, a mix of anger and disappointment washing over me. Lando just stood there, and I didn’t know if I wanted to hug him or push him away. In the end, I chose the latter.

"You’re unbelievable," I began, my voice trembling with anger. "If you really wanted to be with me, you wouldn’t have gone on a date two weeks ago. Remember that date, Lando? The one you thought I didn’t know about?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but I wasn’t willing to listen.

"So you have no right to ruin my date, just because you’re not man enough to ask me out."

I could see the surprise in his eyes, as if he didn’t expect me to know. But the truth is, ever since I met Lando, I’ve always known when he was getting close to other people. He was unpredictable, and that was one of his charms—and one of his biggest flaws.

"Y/n, it’s not like that..." he started, but I raised my hands, refusing to hear.

"No, Lando, it’s exactly like that. It always has been. And it always will be, right? I’m only your first choice when no one better comes along." I felt the tears start to fall, but I continued, the pain turning into an unexpected strength. "I won’t be your second choice, Lando. I won’t be the person you always turn to when you need to get your dick wet.”

He tried to grab my arm, but I pulled away.

"Don’t touch me. That’s enough, im not gonna deal with this forever."

I turned, grabbed my bag, and walked away from him. The sound of my heels echoed in the restaurant, and the feeling of relief mixed with a deep sadness. The sound of laughter and conversations around us seemed so distant, as if I was in a completely different universe, where all that mattered was the pain in my chest.

When I reached the door, I stopped for a second, hoping he would come after me, say something that would change everything. But all I heard was silence.

I stepped out into the street, the cool night air hitting my face. Finally, the tears I had been holding back fell, and I allowed myself to cry. Cry for me, cry for Lando, cry for the love I never managed to have.

But as the tears fell, a firm decision began to form within me. I was tired of waiting, tired of being the second choice. Lando might not know what he wanted, but I did. I knew I deserved more, deserved someone who would choose me without hesitation, without doubts.

And above all, I knew that no matter how much I loved him, it wasn’t worth it if I always ended up feeling like this—alone, broken, and in second place. I deserved more. And in that moment, I decided I was going to find it, even if it meant leaving Lando behind.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername instagram stories

“Getting used to be sad and alone all the time”

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tojikai · 2 months

Text

Permanent Mark⁺ : FORLORN

Grateful to @mikeyslvrr for commissioning and for the support~♡

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Permanent Mark Masterlist

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, death, mentions of pregnancy, implied suicide

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this alternate storyline imagines what could have happened if Y/N had faced a different fate.

He's merely a ghost, beseeching to be haunted by your echoes.

I’ll make things right. I shouldn’t be too late, right? My Y/N and I will be fine. The moment she wakes up, I will apologize. I’ll tell her I messed things up. That I made the wrong decision. That I’m coming home with her. That I’ll never leave again.

We’re gonna make it.

“She didn’t make it.”

Satoru’s steps halted. The world halted. He's been pacing back and forth in the hospital corridor. Despite the chaos of the people coming in and out of the hospital, the voices bouncing on the white walls, and the cries of families who want nothing but to go home with their loved ones, the ticking of Satoru’s wristwatch is still the loudest.

It felt like every second added another boulder on his shoulder, making it harder to drag his feet on the tiled walls. Rie looked like she’d been awake all night when they’d only been here for a couple of minutes. Satoru could almost feel the blood behind his eyes, his nerves waiting to burst and he would be covered in it.

Covered in blood, drenched in guilt, weighed down by regrets.

The doctor’s words reverberated inside his head. The roof of his mouth felt strangely hot as he heard cries behind him. Then, he was tackled to the ground. He didn’t even try to fight back, he just welcomed each blow that his best friend threw on his face, growling “You fucking bastard,” He could hear Rie screaming and his vision blurring as he struggled to stand up, “Y/N, let me see my Y/N.” It was an incoherent murmur as he tried to get to her door.

He was a bit dizzy from the blow and his knees were too weak to fight back. He felt like a bird with tied wings as two people restrained him from going to the room. Satoru could tell that his nose was bleeding but this is nothing compared to losing you.

The irreversibility of his mistakes is now staring him right in the face and he has no choice but to stare back.

He can hear Suguru cursing him out while his tears bring forth realizations: Your parents were inside, after a long time of absence and months of separation from you, this is the first time that they’re seeing you again, not even breathing. The last thing you’d remember of them was how they never cared, neglecting you until you lost colors.

And Satoru… the last thing you'll remember of him will be his anger, his hatred, and the pain he caused you by turning your years of love into dust. The last thing you'll remember of him will be how he put someone else above you, even though he was the summit of your world.

The last thing you’ll remember is being unloved. By your family. By the man you love.

Satoru tried to claw his way past the arms that were holding him back, begging for just a glimpse. He cannot believe that it’s true unless he sees you. But even if he does…his brain and his heart wouldn’t allow him to believe it too. The next thing made everything impossible for him as he lost strength in all of his limbs and eventually blacked out.

“Y/N.” He called out one last time before closing his eyes.

—---------------------------------

Earlier

You can hear your sobs, and your heartbeats are like loud knocks in your ears. You sped up, vision spinning but this is nothing compared to the throbbing pain in your chest. You want to go as fast as you can, believing that maybe then your wheels would burn and dry all the tears that are running down your face. Everything around you was softened by the pools in your eyes.

Even the setting sun looked like a watercolor painting before you, the second brightest thing in your world.

You bit your lip to control your sadness from spilling out. You want to block out the words he said to you, you want to forget how he looked at you there. How those eyes you still love so much now look at you with such reproach, almost disdainful. Even at that moment, they still look so vibrant, enough to color a town. You let out a strained gasp, grasping your shirt as you come to a realization:

You will be stuck in this monochrome box as he paints someone else’s home.

Before you knew it, the sun had disappeared and there was only darkness in front of you. You blinked away your tears but it didn’t work. Where am I driving? You asked yourself but it was too late to hit the brakes. For a very short moment—a split second even—your flesh trembled before you heard a loud crash.

And then there was nothing. The sun was eaten up by that darkness in front of you and engulfed you along with it. Your body doesn’t feel like it belongs to you. You hear voices but the sound is distorted when they reach your ears. You couldn’t move. Slowly, you felt like you were sinking to the ground. The noises were getting faint and you could barely feel your heartbeat in your chest.

You slipped in and out of your consciousness, each time more chaotic than the last. There was the sound of the siren and a white dancing light pointing directly into your eyes. You can barely feel the air entering your lungs. Am I dying? You wanted to ask but your body was too numb.

If you are, this is going to be your second death today.

—---------------------------------

“Just let me be with her for a bit, Ma'am. Please,” Satoru didn't stop the tears from coming as he begged your mother. He knows he doesn't deserve it; he doesn't deserve to mourn you but there's nothing he wouldn't do. After everything that happened at the party, it all felt like a nightmare to him; something so unreal that up until now he still refuses to believe it.

His mother was with him during the burial, as he begged on his knees for a last moment. But your parents weren’t as soft as you. Even as he looked into your kind father’s eyes, he couldn’t find an ounce of pity. Why would he feel sorry for the man who tore his daughter apart? Out of all the hurtful things your mother has said, your father’s last words to Satoru are the ones that scarred him the deepest. It will haunt his ghost til its next life:

“I hope your guilt doesn’t consume you as completely as my daughter’s love for you did to her.”

Finding out about your pregnancy was another knife, twisting in his chest. The fact that you never found out was another bullet to his heart. So, you weren’t the only one he abandoned that day. Your heart wasn’t the only one he broke. It wasn’t just your own sadness you were carrying inside you but the unborn future’s lamentation too.

Til the very end, the people looked at him as nothing but a man with clean hands and a blood-stained shirt. “Come to think of it, even in her last moments she saved you.” Suguru spat at his face when they ran into each other during the funeral. The main reason for the accident was your alcohol intoxication. But Suguru knows too damn well why it all happened.

The only one that wept with him was the sky. The thunders screamed the same accusations at him. The people will see his cries as tears of guilt but no one will understand how his heart died with you in that hospital bed. No one will know how the things he did will forever sleep with him under his pillows, hammering words into his head.

Rie is a strong woman, watching him on his knees, bawling his eyes out as he screamed his love for you to nothingness. She’s a tough woman, entering his room only to hear him label his relationship with her as a mistake, wailing for a do-over. She’s a brave woman who holds him in her arms, whispering her love for him only to be answered with murmurs of I’m sorry’s.

Rie is strong, but a month is too long to stay with someone who will forever yearn for another.

She was hoping for him to stop her, maybe just ask her to give him time, it wouldn’t have mattered how long but he never did. “I’m sorry.” He said, nodding as he traced the mouth of his cup. “Will you be fine?” She asked, first, out of concern and second, to allow a bit of time in hopes that he’d change his mind.

“No, but it’s alright.” He spoke, eyes void of emotion. They almost looked more grey rather than blue now. “Whatever that has happened is on me. I shouldn't have even let it happen.” She knows that he’s not just referring to the accident. His blunt confession of how his relationship with her was a mistake sends a chill down her spine and an ache in her entire being.

How could he so openly tell her that he regrets being with her?

She guessed it was a small price to pay for taking part in breaking someone’s heart. And the larger bill was outside, lurking as she was faced with whispers in every company she tried working on, the continuous ringing of the numbers she called, and the neverending hours of one-sided conversations with her friends.

The rust of guilt will eat away at her bones as she tries to crawl back to where she came from.

Shoko was never the one to hold grudges. But for the longest time, she couldn’t talk to Satoru. She’d find herself spending most of her free time with you, even if she never got answers. Then she’d leave again like she always did before. If she regrets something, it’d be not being to be with you as much as she should be as a friend. Her job doesn’t allow for much time for rest.

Just like how it doesn’t allow enough time for mourning.

“You need to start continuing your life. You’re just insulting Y/N being like that now.” She looked away as she lit a cigarette. She called Satoru over to her clinic today, worried about how his mother called her crying when he wouldn’t answer his phone. It’s almost been a year since your passing and she could barely recognize him.

“Do you know where Suguru is?” He asked, voice hoarse as he licked his cracked lips. Shoko was grateful that his mother chose to take over his business. It’ll only fall down with him like this. He was breathing but barely alive. “Do not try to talk to him.” That’s the only thing she said, but Satoru already understands.

Suguru didn’t want to blame his friend when he was obviously devastated too. But hearing the doctor’s words that day, the first thing he thought of was that if Satoru hadn’t provoked it, you wouldn’t have left and driven drunk. He’d sound selfish if he said he was the most crushed of them all but how else does he cope with a loss of a love that never began?

The last time he’s been to your grave was on the burial day. He never went back again. He thought that maybe if he didn’t see it as much, his mind wouldn’t think of it like that. Maybe his mind wouldn’t remember your death. Maybe he can fool himself into thinking you’re just somewhere far away, working at your mother’s company.

“You don’t get to feel sad. You don’t get to feel sad as much as I do. Not when you already killed her before she even died in that accident.” He pulled at his friend's collar as tears streamed down their faces. “You don’t get to feel sad after what you’ve done, Satoru.” Suguru fears that even after years, he’d still feel resentment for his friend.

“If you weren’t planning on treating her well, you should’ve just let me love her instead, Satoru.” He let his shirt go along with the emotions he was hiding. “If you weren’t planning on keeping her, you should’ve just left her alone.” He whispered, stepping away as he turned his back to him, regaining his composure. This man is grieving too, he reminded himself.

The grief was heavier than the sea of blue in his eyes.

He looked so drained, like he died along with you and maybe he did, because staring into his eyes, Suguru couldn’t find his best friend anymore. When confronted by the uncontrollable materialization of the consequences of their actions, humans deteriorate from the inside.

He wanted to hug him, to cry with him, and let him put some of his heaviest feelings on him but he couldn't. “Live well, Satoru. Y/N wouldn’t want you like this,” He sniffed, running a hand down his face as he turned to his friend again, tapping his shoulder before stepping out.

It’s so hard to feel bad for someone who brought the tragedy upon themselves.

Years will pass and Satoru remains the same, an empty skeleton of who he was before, a vessel of memories and the love you generously left, a cage of regret, guilt, and suffering that he harvested from bad seeds that he planted. “It shall pass,” The doctor said, passing him a blister pack, “You’ll feel better with time.” It just makes him want to laugh. The man doesn’t understand that what he needs can’t be found in this world.

He would lie awake for hours, with exhaustion gnawing at him but still his eyes remained stubbornly open. Reality was punishing him by keeping him awake, blocking out his only means of escape and portal to you. Drinking wasn’t a solution, it was more of a problem. There was this one time that he drank so much, he thought he was seeing you.

His mother found him on his knees, his forehead touching the floor as he begged you to come back, apologizing to the air as his tears hit the tiles of his house. It’s no use, you will never come back and even then, his hallucinations of you were inanimate, unmoving, and cold.

He gazed at a jar filled with wilting flowers on the table—some had lost their color, while others were on the verge of fading. Standing up, he fetched a new one in his jacket’s pocket and cut off its stem before carefully placing it with the others.

These flowers came from the bouquets that he left on your grave. Each time he’d visit, he’d take one flower with him and keep it in this jar. It’s his way of coping, thinking that he still has a piece of you with him. It felt both comforting and painfully inadequate. Satoru doubts that anything will ever change in his life. Even if each person on Earth introduces someone or something new to him, nothing will fill the void.

Satoru wondered if you saw him as others do: merely guilty, not genuinely in love. It’d be another blow to his already beaten-up heart. Listening to the ticking of the clock, his shadow cast on the wall of his room. The quiet was eerie; it had been for years. This house had lost its colors long ago.

It is during these times when he remembers how you’d spent sleepless nights together, just soaking in the presence of one another. Maybe if he sleeps, he’d dream of how you used to rest your head on his chest. Taking the last of his pill, Satoru stared at his ceiling one last time.

As he closed his eyes, he prayed to wake up beside you.

Permanent Mark Masterlist

#angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader #commission #kai.commis

527 notes · View notes

yoredoesmore · 3 months

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Okay I have a request with Hoshina Soshiro. So maybe some angst thing but fluff. Okay so since reader joined hoshina team she flirted with him, give him things , complement him yk? And he would mostly ignore her, give her extra training ANYTHING to make her go away cuz he didn't want to lose her on mission (dangerous job) but she didn't know that. So it lasted for like long time and a new member joined and he started to flirt with reader, give her flowers itp. And she unfortunately thought that making hoshina love her is like against his own will. She doesn't want to be a b so she leaves him alone. And he doesn't like that at all? I love that kind of fanfic. 🎀

Words cannot describe how much i love this request!! thank you so much for this, i hope you enjoy what i came up with!!

Attention | Hoshina Soshiro

pairing: jealous!hoshina soshiro x reader

summary: you stop giving hoshina your attention and he doesn't like that at all.

genre: romance/angst/jealousy/fluff | [wc: 3.3k ]

a/n: my very first request (so exciting!!) i hope i do your wishes justice! hoshina is kinda mean in this one, lol ^^

enjoy!

“Vice Captain Hoshina!” You chimed in an enthusiastic voice, your body moving over to the man's disappearing figure. The vice captain did not even bother to turn around, nor halt in his footsteps as he heard you approach him. Even as you finally catched up, his gaze remained focused on the scene ahead.

“Today's mission went surprisingly well, don't you think!” Excitement hung in your voice, even as Vice Captain Hoshina remained unbothered by your presence. You were all too used to his unbothered demeanor, his avoiding gazes and the lingering silence, therefore you did what you always did in these situations– keep the conversation alive.

“But honestly, with you as our Vice Captain I didn't expect anything else–”

“Your movements towards the end of the battle were sloppy and unprofessional. Talking about a successful mission, tsk, is there nothing else but air in your head? You could have seriously gotten hurt.” His voice was sharp and mocking but the worst part was, it stung.

It has been a little over a year since you joined the Third Division. Despite all your attempts of building a healthy relationship between you and the Vice Captain, nothing much has changed so far. All the compliments, all the gifts and hard work– none of them had been able to bring change to your chemistry. And watching him turn into this jolly ball of joy when talking to the other cadets definitely didn't make you feel better either. It sometimes discouraged you from continuing this sad pursuit of his attention, but only sometimes.

“Seriously, If you wanna stay in this division and continue being part of these missions you gotta be better than that. What even happened back there?!’

A strong force rushed through your lungs, your mind recalling the last minutes of battle. It silenced you immediately.

A Yoju had appeared right behind your exhausted figure, catching you off guard. In any normal situation you would have drawn your weapon at light speed and blast right through the monster but something had stopped you.

The Vice Captain himself.

Nobody else saw it, how could they have– Vice Captain Hoshina did his best to conceal his little mistake. But you took notice of it, of the Vice Captain actually missing his target. It was unexpected to say the least, distracting as well. But the Kaiju blood that ran down his face, temporarily took his vision and that caused his momentum to shift. He lost his balance for a split second and let the Yoju escape from his weapon. He immediately caught up with the monster but the worry that engulfed your stomach was enough to temporarily cause your brain to shut down.

If it hadn't been for Reno calling you back into reality you would have seriously gotten hurt indeed.

“I apologize Cap–”

“Don't bother.” And with that said he left the scene, joining the others in a discussion of how to proceed with the mission.

“Are you alright Y/n..?” Shinomiya approached you, her gentle hand finding its way on your shoulders.

“Yes, I'm alright. Guess he wasn't in the mood to talk, haha..”

This was just one of many failed attempts of you trying to charm Hoshina.

About a week later you were wandering through the hallways of Tachikawa Base. The sun had long kissed the world goodnight, leaving only the dimmed light of the moon to illuminate the building. Sleep was unable to find you, thus you decided to take a short stroll around the building.

It calmed you, watching the stars live in perfect harmony with the moon. They were able to enjoy its presence, even from a distance– just like you were still able to appreciate Hoshina.

He wasn't all that bad honestly. What happened a week ago was a rare occasion, he only got worked up like that when you gave a sloppy performance during a mission.

Perhaps he just wanted you to improve? One could view your way of thinking as delusional, yes, but you preferred to think that you were just optimistic.

On your way back to your dorm you heard subtle sounds in the distance. A few grunts here and some equipment being moved there. Allowing curiosity to take the best of you, you investigated the strange noise. What you found left you shocked and motionless.

The Vice Captain was up and about in the training room, moving in ways you have so rarely seen him in. His body became one with his weapon, it was as if they molded into one to perform something magical. Seeing him in action, in his element, it reminded you why you still chased after Hoshina. He was just perfect in every single aspect, from looks to abilities. You watched him just a little longer, until you decided to step back and return to your dorm to not get into any trouble for being up so late.

“And where do you think you're going?” A single sentence from his lips was enough for your body to become imobile. The Vice Captain was the scariest during battles, when neutralizing Kaiju, everybody knew that. But whatever vibe he was emitting right now, it felt just as dangerous. With each step he took towards your body you could feel your limbs grow weaker and weaker.

“It's quite disrespectful to stare. And on top of that you're walking around past the curfew. Honestly Y/n, it's starting to get annoying.”

“I apologize. I couldn't sleep, that's why I–”

“Give me 50.” Hoshina interrupted you, turning back around to collect his things.

“I..are you serious?” The last thing you wanted was to sound disrespectful, but his cold demeanor was starting to affect you in a way you had hoped it never would.

His body bent forward to grab both his katana and zip jacket. For only a moment his eyes met yours.

“Yes. And while you're already at it, try working on your reflexes and stealth as well, I could hear you from miles away. Your mistakes of last week's battle could have cost you your life. Don't let it happen again."

His gaze fell onto the ground and his grip on the jacket tightened. Like always you were unable to make out what concrete emotions he was hiding behind those eyes but his voice pretty much gave away what state he was currently in.

He was pissed.

As Hoshina walked towards the exit, he made sure to throw one last look at you. You didn't notice it but even if you had, it would have made no sense to you..

The following weeks continued to all look the same. While you were trying your best to uphold a positive attitude towards the Vice Captain, it felt like he was distancing himself further and further away from you. Even the other cadets were starting to wonder when you were finally going to move on and give up.

“Hoshina!” You exclaimed cheerfully, waving at the man. “I hope you had a great weekend. I'm looking forward to today's work!”

Like always he just passed you by, not even bothering to give you anything else than a roll of his eyes or a nod (when he was feeling generous).

Even when you left little notes for him or small treats on his desk, you would always later on find them in the trash.

“Wanna go out and drink something together?”

“No.”

“Excuse me, but could you please help me with–”

“I'm busy.”

“Why wasn't I called in to participate at the weapon testing–”

“Because.”

This went on for a couple more months, until a certain someone brought you back to reality.

“Please welcome Tanaka Yosuke, the newest addition to our team.”.

Tanaka was an interesting guy. He was sweet and nice and always had something positive about you to say. On missions he would have your back and even off the battlefield he would make you feel warm and welcomed. Being with him made you realize just how much attention you actually deserved and maybe even how much you wasted on Hoshina. Tanaka made you appreciate how nice it felt to be sought out for once.

Your words did not pass him by, nor did any of your actions go unnoticed by his attentive eyes. He was someone you were able to feel comfortable around.

“Y/n!” His voice immediately caused a smile to appear on your face. Tanaka stood in front of you, a playful grin shining right back at you as he approached your seated body. You were at the base’s cafeteria, enjoying a simple meal by yourself. After another failed attempt of talking to the Vice Captain you believed that you deserved a little treat.

“I got you something.” He spoke, hands reaching into the small bag he brought with him.

A sharp breath escaped your lips and a feeling so fuzzy engulfed your heart it almost knocked you off the chair.

“Look, aren't these flowers beautiful.” White Lilies swayed in the wind, brought by the Kaiju’s collapse. Only this group of flowers had stayed untouched from the destruction, maintaining their beauty.

You had made one little remark about the flowers but here this man was, surprising you with a whole bouquet of them. As your fingers grazed over the soft petals a thought suddenly occurred in your head.

What if Hoshina genuinely disliked you?

It wasn't a brand new discovery. Vice Captain Hoshina not being a fan of yours was quite obvious, yet you thought that his opinion about you could be swayed if you tried hard enough, like in movies. But seeing him dodge you like a bullet and going out of his way to hurt your feelings..maybe you were a bother after all..

Spending more time with Tanaka and less around the Vice Captain felt strange. You wondered if he noticed or if he even cared about the lack of your presence. The thought occupied your mind even while you were looking at your gift.

But did that mean that you like Tanaka..? Despite being a sweet guy, all you saw in him was a comrade who you could call a good friend. No one could ever compare to the Hoshina that you met years ago, before you joined the decision. The sweet man who saved you that day..the man you fell in love with.

“These flowers are beautiful, Tanaka.” But that didn't change the fact that Tanaka's eyes were different. They looked at you, not past or beyond, they stared right at you and made sure to perceive you.

“Not as beautiful as the one who is holding them..”

For a brief moment you felt your heart skip a beat, Tanaka's words melting on your ears like butter. While you were losing yourself in this warm feeling you didn't notice the person who was lingering behind the wall, watching the scene unfold with sharp eyes.

“Tsk..”

“That new guy, what's his name again?” Hoshina rested his body against one of the bookshelves, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the Captain arrange some files.

“You mean Tanaka Yosuke? What's with him?” Mina's gaze remained on the countless sheets of papers in front of her, only moving up once to give the man a questioning look.

“Something about him seems off, I don't like the guy.”

“Oh please.” The woman finally averted her attention to her friend, a smug smile hanging on her lips.

“You're just mad that Y/n is paying him attention, much more than you recently.” The last part of that sentence came out as a mumble yet Hoshina’s sharp ears picked up on Mina's remark.

“As if.” Hoshina scoffed. “It's just, he is always dragging Y/n to the front of every battle and acts as if he has known her for ages.”

“You want him to act like you? Cold and ignorant, even after knowing that she is one of the sweetest people around.” Although Mina tried to add a playful touch to her voice, the backlash of her words stayed strong.

“Everybody knows that Y/n is, or maybe now was, head over heels for you– yes even I picked up on that. Yet for some reason you are a complete asshole to the poor girl. But now that she has decided to stop paying you that special kind of attention you want to complain and talk about some "I miss her” and what not. Give me a break.”

Hearing these words come out of the Captain's mouth felt like a strong jab to the side. Hoshina found himself unable to respond, react in any way, really. Like a block of ice he stood motionless in the room, mouth slightly open.

“Play with a girl's heart for too long and she will leave you in the past. You men have the audacity to treat the woman who cares for you like trash and ignore her but get upset when she starts showing affection to another man who actually treats her right, how childish.”

A paper ball suddenly came flying towards Hoshina’s head. He let the crumbled item hit his skull. His eyes followed it as it bounced off his head and fell to the ground, rolling around for a little longer until it eventually stopped moving. A strange taste now sat in his mouth. It was bitter yet blunt, how irritating..

"Whatever reason you have to act this way, just stop. Tell Y/n face to face how you actually feel and give that poor thing a break for gods sake."

The day came to an end rather quickly today. Only hours ago you were out with Tanaka, enjoying some time together and now you were already headed to bed. But before you decided to tell the world goodnight you had to make one quick stop at the base's library.

There was a book about flowers Tanaka gave you that you wanted to lend out, to be able to properly tent your gift. But as you searched through the countless isles, too concentrated on quickly finding the copy, a loud noise suddenly pulled you back to reality.

“Vice Captain..” You stuttered, startled by Hoshinas' sudden appearance. The man stood in front of you, his usual nonchalant expression printed on his face. You were ready to apologize for being out this late once again but before you were even able to open your mouth you were silenced.

“You've been avoiding me..” He spoke in such a low tone you almost didn't hear him.

“I've been…what?”

“You've been avoiding me, Y/n.” Hoshina took a step forward, invading a fraction of your personal space. A gasp slipped from your lips but he continued to stare you down.

“Well..I was under the impression that I was bothering you, Vice Captain, so I backed down a li–”

“Now you can't even say my name anymore?” Another step was taken towards your direction.

Hoshina's playful demeanor had completely disappeared, all that was left was a stoic facade. But something about the way he positioned himself above you, his sharp eyes looking down at your frame as if they were guarding you– it fell off. Despite appearing cold and upset, he somehow seemed..vulnerable?

“I really don't understand what is going on here. I thought you didn't like me?”

It seemed like Hoshina wanted to say something along the lines of “what gave you that idea” but he quickly realized that those words would have not helped him at all. Thus he remained silent for a while, his arms crossing over his chest as his gaze fell onto the wall.

“That Tanaka guy, is he your latest obsession?”

“Excuse me?” You mildly snapped. “Yosuke is a friend of mine, a very nice guy and an amazing fighter.” Hearing you speak his first name so casually caused a nerve to snap in Hoshina’s body.

“He is a completely irresponsible guy if you ask me. Dragging you out to the front of every battle, making you fight all these Yoju– it's like he's setting you up for injuries.” As if the Vicevice Captain's words didn't irritate you enough, he had the audacity to add a scoff, leaving you confused and slightly vexed.

“Orrr maybe he just trusts in my abilities. But with all respect sir, what are you talking about? Are you here to hand out another punishment or is this some type of joke, pretending to suddenly care about me and all..” Silence hushed over the space as your question stayed unanswered. It was beyond obvious that your words triggered something in Hoshina but you didn't know what it was. The lack of a conversation allowed you to reflect on past interactions. Despite hish harsh words, this was the third time that the Vice Captain has mentioned you potentially getting hurt during battle.

Was he maybe..

“I apologize for my tone..” You suddenly sighed.

“But Vice Captain Hoshina, I think I have made it quite clear that I..that I like you yet you don't seem even the tiniest bit interested in me. Which is okay, I get it, but how come that now that i'm finally leaving you alone, you all of a–”

The door to the library suddenly swung open, cutting you off mid sentence.

“Y/n?” Tanaka called out, looking around the empty space.

Hoshina had reacted before you could even realize what was going on. The Vice Captain quickly pulled you into his embrace, so that your back rested against his chest, and placed his hands over your mouth. The mild sensation you felt only moments ago in your stomach now fully exploded, causing a strong heat to rush through your body.

“Weird..the others told me that she would be here..” Tanaka looked around one last time before turning off the lights and closing the door behind him. You thought that Hoshina would let you go but his grip around your waist stayed strong.

“Y/n..” He lowered his face to softly talk into your ear. Something inside the man felt relieved. Now that you were both standing in complete darkness, unable to see each other, he could finally confess what was on his mind.

“As a Vice Captain it is my duty to charge head first into battle, despite knowing that I could die any second. You are persistent by nature, I saw that during our first encounter a couple years ago, so the thought of you being stubborn enough to follow me on the battlefield and potentially getting hurt always haunted me. I..I tried getting rid of you to prevent that from happening and during the process I must have hurt you a lot and I am so sorry. I kept ignoring you because being close to you..it made it so fucking difficult to not–”

Hoshina stopped himself from continuing that sentence and let go of you, his body's heat becoming too overwhelming. With every second your eyes adjusted more and more to the darkness, until you were properly able to see him.

“Don't run after any other man when I'm right here, Y/n..”

“Hoshina..”

You could only see fragments of it but Hoshina was smiling. Hearing you finally drop the formalities made him happier than it should.

All this time, the man you thought hated you for purely existing had a special spot in his heart reserved just for you. It felt weird, being perceived by him, but at the same time there was no sweeter feeling.

“I don't know if I can just forgive you yet..” You joked. “It's gonna take a lot more than just your words to make me forget the months of blatant disrespect.”

“Don't play around too much now.” The man pulled you back into his embrace. One arm tightly held you by the waist while the other pretended to pull on your ear. For a short moment the two of you laughed together, until he suddenly spoke in a more serious tone.

“Please keep your eyes on me, don't look away.” One of his hands wrapped around yours to pull it up to his face. Hoshina's soft lips ran over your fingers, placing a strong kiss on your hand. Then his eyes fell on yours, locking your gazes.

“I'm yours, Y/n. You don't need anyone else as long as I'm here so please continue to give me your attention. It gets me going like nothing else, hearing your adorable voice and seeing how much effort you put into every fight. Fuck” He chuckled, the other hand now cupping your right cheek.

“You don't know how long I had to hold myself back. But now that the truth's out, I can finally show you just how crazy you make me.”

#yoredoesmore #anime fanfic #hoshina soshiro x reader #requests are open #soshiro hoshina #kaiju no. 8 #x reader #request #hoshina x reader #jealous hoshina

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serpentandlily · 10 months

Text

Untouchable VII - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst angst angst

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part VII

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Are you alright?”

Feyre’s voice knocked you out of your own head. You swallowed audibly, looking at her before following her gaze down to where you were holding your wine glass, white knuckled. You let out a sigh and set the glass down on the table, putting your hands in your lap.

“I’m fine, sorry,” you said, to get her attention off of you. “Just thinking about my last trip to Hewn City, that’s all.”

Feyre’s brows furrowed but she nodded.

Your eyes flickered back to the other end of the table, where Elain and Azriel sat. Elain was basically halfway out of her chair, leaning into Azriel’s space. A knot formed at the back of your throat. Azriel wasn’t exactly encouraging her, but he also wasn’t trying to put more distance between the two of them.

Jealousy roared its ugly head inside of you. Especially as you watched her place a hand on his arm, laughing at something he said. A hand that wouldn’t hurt him, unlike yours.

You looked away, unable to bear the sight of it anymore. You just wanted this stupid dinner to be over already.

Everyone seemed to have paired off into conversation. Feyre and Rhys, Cassian and Nesta, Helion and Mor, Amren and Varian, Elain and Azriel. You pushed around the food on your plate, feeling alone.

There was one another person here who looked just as lonely as you. Lucien sat across from you, his eyes glued on his mate who was flirting with your…with your Azriel.

Elain laughed again, drawing your attention back to her. This time, Azriel had a soft smile on his face as well.

You couldn’t take it anymore, thankful everyone seemed to be finished eating dessert. You cleared your throat, standing up and drawing everyone’s eyes to you. You kept your focus on Helion though.

“I'm going to turn in for the night. It was lovely seeing you again, Helion,” you said politely. “Goodnight.”

You couldn’t get to the balcony fast enough, summoning your wings to make the short flight back to the River House. You ignored the soft stroke of your brother’s claws against your mental shield, not in the mood to make up excuses for your behavior.

Once you were in your room, you started ripping the pins from your hair and tossing them on your vanity. Just as you were finishing letting your hair down, the shadows in the corner of your room seemed to expand until a dark figure stepped out of them.

Azriel approached you, concern written on his face.

“Y/n? Why did you take off like that? Is everything alright?”

You didn’t turn to face him, instead you looked at him through the mirror.

“I’m fine. I-I just didn’t feel too good.”

“Don’t do that, princess,” Azriel said, stalking forward until he was right behind you, still able to look at you in the eyes considering he was a foot taller than you. “I thought we were being honest with each other now.”

You let out a sigh and turned around, placing a soft hand on his chest. “I’m sorry. I just… I couldn’t stand watching you with her. After what I saw that night—” You choked on your own words for a second. “It’s hard to be around you when I can't be with you.”

Azriel placed his hand over yours. “I cannot apologize enough for that night, princess. But it is only you that I see. It meant nothing to me then and it means nothing to me now. You are the only one who owns my entire heart. I can only pray that a day comes when I can let everyone else see that too.”

You softened, staring up at his beautiful hazel eyes. They were gold right now in the moonlight shining into your room from the balcony doors, a perfect compliment to your own violet ones. But then his jaw clenched and the moment was stolen away.

You pulled your hand away from him, letting your arm fall limp at your side.

“This is also why I left,” you breathed out. “It pains me to see another person get to touch you when I can’t. I hate it, Azriel. I hate that I bring you pain.”

“I’d drag myself across the burning fires of hell for you, princess” Azriel brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, before leaning down to whisper, “I’ve never been a stranger to pain, y/n. Quite the opposite. I’ve learned to like it.”

The heat in his gaze—his words—made you melt right into his hands.

“Is that so?” Your voice was a mere whisper as your hand trailed down his chest, lingering on the waistband of his pants before palming his hardened length with a ghost of a touch.

Azriel groaned, his head falling against your shoulder. “Don’t tease me. Not tonight.”

“Oh, I won’t,” you purred, stroking against his mental barrier.

When he let you in, you showed him exactly how the two of you were going to spend the rest of the night.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You bit your lip, tossing more of your clothes out of your wardrobe and onto the floor of your bedroom as you dug around, searching for your journal. It wasn’t in the place you normally hid it, but that hadn’t been too concerning. You did often throw it about after writing in it for hours. But not being able to find it at all? That was a first.

“What are you looking for?”

You screeched, falling backwards onto your butt at the sudden voice. A masculine chuckle, accompanied with the scent of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded the room. You peered up to see Azriel hovering over you. You pouted at him and his antics.

“It’s rude to just appear in a ladies room, you know,” you snipped, causing him to snort. “I’m looking for my journal. I can’t find it anywhere. Have you seen it?”

Azriel shook his head, offering a hand to help you off the floor. “I didn’t even know you kept a journal. I can help you look.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m sure it’ll turn up.”

Before you could say another word, Azriel surged forward to kiss you. You let out a small gasp before giving yourself over to him. He kissed you with a familiar passion, bringing heat to your core and causing your heart to beat fiercely.

The kiss ended far too soon.

“What was that for?” you panted.

“Can’t I just kiss you?”

You gave him a look that had his lips twitching. “Fine. Cassian needs help in Windhaven so I’m going to be gone for a few days. I wanted to see you before I left.”

You frowned as he played with the straps of your dress, his eyes as pained as yours were at the thought of having to spend time away from each other.

“Do you really have to go? Can’t Rhys go help him? He’s the High Lord, not you.”

Azriel pressed a kiss to your lips again, smiling.

“Is someone going to miss me?”

His eyes softened when the look on your face didn’t change.

“It’s just for a few days, princess,” Azriel said. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I suppose you don’t have a choice.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Do I at least get more of a goodbye?”

Azriel let out a small groan as your body pressed against his but to your displeasure, he merely kissed you on the forehead and stepped away. “I wish, princess, but your brother asked me to meet with him before I leave. I’m sorry.”

“Why is he always getting in the way?” you grumbled, more to yourself than anything.

Azriel placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “Be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too, Princess,” he murmured, giving you one last kiss before disappearing in a whirlwind of shadows.

His scent trailed behind him…but then you stiffened, another lingering scent was attached to it.

You sniffed the air.

Jasmine and Honey.

Elain’s scent.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Why did he smell like Elain? Had he gone and said goodbye to her as well? Had he been with her before coming to see you? You could feel your blood rushing to your head and you forced yourself to calm down.

You sniffed the air again, only smelling his night-chilled mist and cedar this time. You let out a long breath, sitting down at the edge of your bed. Perhaps you had been mistaken. Perhaps your own insecurities were making you paranoid.

But something awful curled in your stomach.

And a feeling of dread rushed through you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You busied yourself while Azriel was away. It had only been a day so far, but you already missed him so much. You had buried yourself in reports from the Court of Nightmares and correspondence from Eris. But still, nothing could fully distract you from your thoughts.

You kept going back to that scent in your room.

Had you made that up?

But why? Why would you do that to yourself? You hadn’t even been thinking of Elain. You wrestled with the idea that maybe Azriel had seen Elain before you, to tell her he was leaving. They were friends, after all. It could be something harmless.

But that night kept flashing behind your eyes every time you shut them. Elain on the counter, her dress pushed up to her thighs, Azriel between them, as they ravishingly kissed each other. Elain and Azriel at the dinner table, her hand on his bicep as he made her laugh.

It made you feel sick to your stomach.

The words on the parchment you were reading blurred together and you set it aside with a sigh.

You were overthinking things. Azriel had told you time and time again that he wanted to be with you. That he’s always wanted to be with you and it was your own brother that had kept him away.

You dropped your head down on your desk, sucking in air. You were just being paranoid. You were letting your insecure feelings get in your head. Azriel wanted you. Azriel wanted only you. He loved you. He always had…

Right?

A giggle in the corridor outside your door caught your attention. You sat up straight, recognizing it to be Elain’s. You froze for a second before quietly getting up and walking to your door, pressing your ear against the cold wood.

Another giggle, a bit further down the hallway this time.

You slowly pushed the door open a crack, peering into the dark corridor. Another giggle and the sound of someone shushing another. A streak of golden-brown hair slipping around the corner. Azriel’s scent wafted through the space and your stomach turned over.

You stepped into the now quiet hallway, following after the sound of Elain’s giggles and Azriel’s scent.

He was supposed to be in Windhaven. Why was he here? And why was here with Elain in the middle of the night? Your heart was pounding in your chest. You felt like throwing up. But you pushed yourself to follow despite your better judgment.

A door around the corner slammed shut and you could hear the sound of rustling clothes. Tears pricked your eyes and you darted forward now, pushing the door open.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the empty room. You blinked once. Twice. You couldn’t hear Elain’s giggle anymore, couldn't scent Azriel either.

Had you imagined all of that?

You rubbed at your eyes, exhaustion settling into your body. Gods, you were going crazy. The lack of sleep was finally getting to you. That was the only logical explanation you could give yourself. You left the room and returned to your own.

Just a few more days.

A few more days and Azriel would be home.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The next two days passed in a blur.

You had a stack of reports in your arms as you made your way towards your brother’s office, ready to deliver them. You had been staying in the Townhouse the past few nights, needing space away from Elain–hoping it would make your delusions go away.

It wasn’t her fault that you were going crazy, wasn’t her fault that your own brother had pushed Azriel away from you all those years. You didn’t want to take it out on her, so you figured you’d just remove yourself from the Riverhouse until Azriel returned.

You were passing by a closed off room when a familiar voice made you stop in your tracks.

“Fuck, Elain,” Azriel moaned. “You feel so good.”

You shook your head but the sound of two people panting didn’t go away. You froze, just like last time, squeezing your eyes shut, hoping it would go away. You were truly going crazy. You had to be.

“Gods,” Elain panted. “Please, Azriel, don’t stop.”

Your eyes shot open as your heart dropped to your stomach once more. That feeling of dread came again as bile rose up in the back of your throat. You put your hand against the door, slowly pushing it open, praying that you would be met with the sight of an empty room just like last time.

You choked silently on your breath as you peered into the room through the crack in the door. Your hand shot to your mouth as the sight of Azriel and Elain came into view. You blinked once. Twice.

It didn’t go away.

There was Azriel, holding Elain against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist as they kissed. Your heart snapped into a million pieces, your eyes stinging with tears that had started falling.

What the fuck?

How…How could he do this?

They pulled away from each other and Azriel rested his forehead against hers.

“How much longer must you pretend to be interested in Rhys’s sister?” Elain asked, closing her eyes. “I’m tired of hiding, Azriel. I don’t care what Rhys thinks. I want the whole court to know how much we love each other.”

“It’s better this way for now, Elain. If Rhys is suspicious of me messing around with his sister, then he will take the news of us together more lightly. He’ll be relieved it's not her I’m after. Hell, he’ll probably throw us a wedding himself.”

Elain giggled, pecking his lips. “I just hate watching her pine after you. It’s a little sad, honestly. You’d think she would’ve moved on after all this time.”

“I know,” Azriel agreed. “But it’ll be worth it. I promise you.”

You couldn’t bear to hear anymore. You silently took a step back, closing the door as softly as you could. You felt your vision go in and out of focus as you forced your legs to keep moving.

Azriel…Azriel had been using you this whole time? He had been wanting your brother to think he had moved on from Elain to you in hopes that your brother would be outraged by the thought, leading him to be relieved that it was still Elain he desired, not you.

You wanted to throw up.

Wanted to scream at the top of your lungs.

You…Gods, you were such an idiot. You had believed every single thing Azriel had said to you. Had never doubted him until these past few days.

No. No….you couldn’t…you couldn’t do this. You were going to be sick.

You were walking still, not even sure where your legs were taking you. You wanted to winnow to Illyria and throw yourself off a cliff, wanted to curl up in a ball in your room and cry, wanted to…Gods, you needed to get away. Needed to get the hell out of here.

“Dove? Are you alright?”

You blinked, your vision coming back into focus to realize you had walked to your brother’s office—your mind likely on autopilot. His violet eyes were staring at you with concern, tracking the tears falling from your eyes.

The reports fell from your hand, scattering to the floor. Rhys rose from his desk, striding over to you quickly. A sob escaped your lips as he grabbed you by the arms, shaking you a bit.

“Dove, what happened? What’s going on? Why are you crying?”

The words began spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel was seated at the kitchen table in Rhys’s family cabin, across from Cassian who looked as miserable as he did. It had been a long day of dealing with Devlon and the other Illyrians.

A shadow curled over his ear.

The High Lord approaches. He is angry with you, master.

Azriel swallowed audibly as a wave of darkness overtook the cabin, Rhys stepped out of it looking like a prince from hell, his violet eyes set on him with a burning rage.

Azriel knew the moment he saw Rhys what this was about. He had finally figured it out. He finally knew what was going on between him and his sister. That was the only reason he could think of.

“Azriel!” The High Lord growled, causing Cassian to jump to his feet, his brows furrowed with confusion. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Azriel braced himself but didn’t move. He deserved Rhys’s wrath. He knew he did.

Rhys tackled him, splintering the wooden chair into pieces as the two males landed on the hard ground. Cassian shouted at them to stop but Rhys began to pummel Azriel with his fists.

Azriel didn’t bother fighting back. He just laid on the ground, letting Rhys beat him even as he began to spit up blood.

He always knew this day would come. Knew that he deserved to be beaten into an inch of life for what he had done. He had taken something as pure and good as y/n and fully corrupted her, marked her, ruined her.

He had never deserved to lay his hands on her perfect skin, her perfect body. Not when his hands were so flawed. Not when his hands had done such terrible things.

Suddenly, Rhys was being yanked off of him by Cassian. Rhys growled at his other brother, trying to push him away but Cassian held strong.

“Azriel, get the fuck up,” Cassian grunted. “Why the fuck didn’t you try to fight back?”

Azriel stood, slowly, wiping a hand at the blood that was beginning to dribble down his chin. He spat out more blood, already feeling the bruising that was going to be scattered all over his jaw.

“Because he knows he deserves it,” Rhys snapped. “You fucking piece of shit! I trusted you! I fucking let you into my home, took care of you like a brother, and this is how you repay me?! I swear to the Gods if you don’t get out of my way, Cassian—”

“Stop!” Cassian shouted. “What the fuck is going on? What the fuck happened?”

“Tell him, Azriel, tell him what you’ve done! Tell him how you’ve been messing around with my little sister behind my back!”

Cassian’s eyes widened, his head whipping back and forth behind his brothers. “Rhys, calm down. I don’t know who you heard that from but that can’t be true. Right, Az? I mean, fuck, the bargain we have wouldn’t even—”

“It’s true, Cassian,” Azriel cut him off. “It’s true. Let him go. I deserve this. I fucked up.”

“Azriel,” Cassian murmured in disbelief, his eyes full of disappointment. Azriel couldn’t bear the sight of it.

“You’re fucking sick, Azriel,” Rhys growled. “You held her as a baby! You watched her grow up for fucks sake! I thought I could trust you!”

“Oh fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel said, baring his teeth at the other male. “Don’t make this into something it’s not. I love her! I fucking love her, alright! I always have! And you knew it! That’s why you made us make that fucking bargain with you in the first place!”

“Oh you love her?” Rhys snapped, sarcastically. “You love her so much, huh? Is that why she’s in her room crying over you right now? Is that why you fucking used her to get back at me for telling you to stay away from Elain? I’m going to fucking rip your throat out!”

He lurched forward again, but Cassian took the brunt of his weight, holding him off.

Azriel froze, utterly bewildered.

“Az…what is he talking about? What does he mean you’ve been using y/n?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel spat. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, Rhys. I’m not using y/n and I never even wanted Elain. I was trying to move on from…from loving your sister for gods’ sake.”

Rhys laughed bitterly. “If that’s so, then tell me why my sister came crying to me a few hours ago after catching you and Elain fucking each other?!”

“What!” Cassian swiveled to look at Azriel again. But Azriel looked as shocked as he did.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Rhys? I’ve been here all day with Cassian. I don’t want Elain and I certainly wouldn’t be using your sister to get with her!”

“You’re a fucking liar, Azriel! She showed me what she saw, you prick! Cass, you better fucking let me go—”

“He’s not lying, Rhys,” Cassian interjected. “He really has been here with me all day. I don’t think he’s left my sight once. You can go into my mind and look, but I swear it. If…if what you’re saying is true, then I’ll fucking help you kick Azriel’s ass but I think there’s some miscommunication here.”

“Y/n is in her room crying…because she thinks I’ve been using her? I don’t… I wouldn’t,” Azriel murmured, mostly to himself. “I need to go see her.”

“If you move a single muscle, I swear I’ll tear your mind apart, Azriel,” Rhys yelled. “Don’t you dare even think about seeing her right now! You have no idea what you’ve caused!”

“Rhys, I swear on my life that I haven’t touched Elain since winter solstice! And I would never use your sister. I love her! She’s all that matters to me! I need to go to her. I don’t know what she saw but it wasn’t me!”

“Rhys, please, listen to him. I know you’re upset, I am too, but come on, you know Azriel. Does this really seem like something he would do?”

“I saw her memory of it, Cass. I saw him fucking Elain! I saw him talking about using her!”

Azriel stepped forward, glaring. “I haven’t fucked Elain and I wouldn’t, ever! I don’t understand…I’ve been here with Cass all day.”

“He really has, Rhys. There’s got to be something else going on here…I don’t know what y/n thinks she saw or heard, but it wasn’t Azriel.”

Rhys cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to get home. I need to get to the bottom of this. But this is not over, Azriel! Even if you didn’t use her or cheat on her! You should’ve never even put your hands on her in the first place!”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Cassian pushed him back. “One thing at a time. I think finding out why y/n saw what she did is more important right now!”

Rhys glared at Cassian but backed off. He shot Azriel another scathing look before disappearing into the darkness, winnowing away.

“I need to go, Cass. I need to see her, need to tell her that whatever she saw wasn’t true. I don’t care if you hate me now too, but I won’t let you stop me from going to her.”

“I don’t hate you, Az, but fuck, what were you thinking? I warned you not to hurt his sister,” Cassian sighed, before holding a hand out. “Take me with you.”

Azriel grabbed Cassian’s hand before shadow walking to the River House. The foyer came into view a second later.

Feyre was there examining Rhys’s bloodied knuckles. She peaked over at them as they appeared, her eyes widening as she caught sight of Azriel’s face.

“I tracked down Elain,” Feyre spoke. “She wasn’t even here this morning. She spent the night at Lucien’s apartment.”

She whispered the last part, glancing at Azriel but he wasn’t even paying attention. His eyes were on the staircase that led to Rhys’s sister’s room. He needed to get to her, needed to make sure she knew whatever she had seen wasn’t real.

“Don’t even think about it,” Rhys snapped, his violet eyes glaring into Azriel. “Mor is with her right now. You stay down here, in my sight, until this is dealt with! Don’t think this has absolved you of anything.”

“Rhys, stop,” Feyre barked. “Now is not the time. Can you remember what your sister showed you? Was there anything weird about the memory?”

Rhys let out a frustrated breath. “No—I don’t know. I was too angry to even think.”

“Well, we need to go talk to her,” Feyre said. “Have her show you the memory again. I don’t know how but someone must’ve planted it or something.”

“Why would someone do that?” Cassian questioned. “Who knew that her and Azriel even had a thing together and would try and get in between it?”

Azriel was stewing in his own thoughts, pacing in front of the fireplace. He couldn’t stand this. Couldn’t stand knowing you were upset thinking he had cheated on you and used you for Elain.

“Azriel,” Rhys barked. “Did anyone else know about the two of you? You better be fucking honest or I swear—”

“You’re not being helpful by being angry right now, Rhys,” Feyre cut in.

Azriel racked his brain for anyone who might have known they were together. They had been careful but there was one person…

“Cedric,” Azriel answered. “Cedric knew we were together. He knew she turned down his proposal because of me.”

“The Prince?” Cassian asked. 'Wait, you and y/n have been seeing each other since you traveled to the continent?"

"Cassian, not the time," Feyre snarled again.

Azriel could tell Rhys’s mind was racing with his thoughts and he too, paced back and forth.

“Fuck,” Rhys suddenly cursed loudly, causing Feyre to jump. “The Prince…his family’s magic specializes in illusions. Could he have…but how? Why?”

“Maybe he’s upset she rejected him,” Feyre suggested. “You need to go talk to her. You need to look into that memory again, see if you can poke through it.”

“He can’t talk to her,” Mor said, walking down the stairs and drawing everyone’s attention. “She left for the continent an hour ago. I was packing some of her stuff for her to send over.”

“What? You let her leave?” Rhys shouted. “Where did she go?”

Mor narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t let her do anything. She’s a grown female, Rhys. She went to Vallahan. I guess Prince Cedric said his doors were always open for her and she wanted to get away.”

Rhys cursed again. “No, no! Fuck, Mor! You had one fucking job! Not to let her out of your sight!”

“Well, sorry! I didn’t know we were considering the possibility that someone has been making her see things! She wanted to go and I wasn’t going to stop her.”

“We need to go,” Feyre interjected. “If it is the Prince who caused all of this, then who knows what he’ll do to her now that she’s back over there! He might manipulate her into marrying him.”

“Everyone needs to calm down,” Cassian said. “I have a question. So maybe the Prince knows about her and Azriel, but that doesn’t explain how he knew the background between Azriel and Elain.”

Something clicked in Azriel’s head. “Her journal. Fuck, her journal has been missing. He must’ve stolen it when we were at his castle. You said she left an hour ago, Mor?”

Mor nodded, her mouth in a tight line.

“Shit. That means she’s probably there already,” Azriel growled. “I’m going. I’m leaving right now and I’m going to get her back.”

“No you’re not,” Rhys ordered. “I’ll go and bring her back.”

“We can all go,” Feyre snapped. “Go get in your fighting gear just in case. We’ll meet back here in fifteen minutes so we can go save y/n from that Prince.”

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You brushed your tears away, not wanting anyone to see you had been crying. The castle came into view and you hurried forward, eager to get inside and away from watchful eyes.

You had written a quick letter to Cedric asking if you could visit and he had readily replied with a yes. You needed to get out of the Night Court, needed to get as far away from Azriel as you could.

Your heart was broken, snapped into a million pieces. Your throat was hoarse from sobbing the past few hours. Your entire world had collapsed and you had never felt such despair.

The castle doors finally came into sight, a group of soldiers standing guard with Cedric. He smiled brightly at you as you walked forward.

“Princess! I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon,” he greeted. “Please, come inside!”

You greeted him with a smile, scurrying inside the castle. You turned to face him. “Thank you for letting me come on such short notice, Cedric. I—”

“Seize her.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, at the coldness in his tone. Before you could react, the soldiers surged forward and grabbed you by the arms. You let out a scream, trying to wiggle from their hold as they snapped a pair of faebane handcuffs around your wrists.

“Cedric! What—what are you doing? Let me go!”

Cedric gave you a menacing smile. “You know, I thought this might take a little longer, getting you to come back here. Who knew your insecurities about the shadowsinger ran so deep? I’ll have to send him a thank you after all of this.”

“What are you talking about? Why…unhand me, now! This is…Cedric, what is this? Let me go!”

The soldiers dragged you forward as Cedric stood in front of the doors, hands behind his back looking quite pleased with himself. “Oh no, there is someone very important I need you to meet.”

He grabbed you by the upper arm and a second later, the familiar feeling of winnowing whisked you away.

You landed on soft ground, right beside a lake. Your eyes widened on the shack that sat in the middle of it.

“Cedric, please! Let me go!”

You tried to wiggle out of your restraints but the guards held you with unflinching strength. You let out a tiny scream as a figure emerged from the water. A figure made of smoke.

“Hello, Princess,” Koschei purred. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: ooppp sorry for all the rage/upset I might've caused you with this one. The series is coming to a close though! Two more parts and an epilogue is what I have planned rn! Thank you guys for all your support!

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#acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand #rhysand sister #azriel x rhysandssister #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x y/n #azriel angst

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brokenmenswhore · 26 days

Note

Ok ok here it goes

The reader is Aemond betrothed, but it's his brother Aegon who worships and desires her. No matter how hard he tries he can't hide it from his brother, mother, grandfather and even from the small council. He knows he can't have her and feels sad about it, but it doesn’t stop him from warning Aemond that if he hurts her Aemond will deal with him.

aegon if you see this i want you to know that you always deserve a happy ending i’m so sorry for this. that being said, i’ll say it again, I LOVE PINING

worship | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: angst, language, pining, a little brief smut (MDNI 18+)

────── ☾ ──────

The news of your betrothal to Aemond sent Aegon into a rage, his arm swiping everything off of the table in front of him. All he ever wanted was you, and now you were being given to another.

Not just anyone, however, but the brother that everyone chose above Aegon. You were now being forced to choose him too.

Aegon did not truly care for many. His father cast him aside, and his mother was much too young when she had him to do right by him. Heleana and Aemond were close on their own, and neither respected Aegon.

He quickly took a liking to you. He told you a joke that made you nearly cry in hysterics from laughing, and he instantly knew he was head over heels. It was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard.

Aegon absolutely worshipped you.

He has fresh flowers sent to your room each morning with your handmaidens. He claimed that after a day, they were no longer perfect, and that was unacceptable. Everything for you had to be perfect. You thought it was protocol to refresh the flora in all rooms each morning; you had no idea the special attention Aegon demanded for you.

He had several gowns sent to your room in green and gold, each more expensive than the last. When he knocked on your apartment door to see if they had arrived, you let him in to show him the extensive array of boxes.

“This is simply too much, Aegon, I cannot accept this,” you spoke.

“Do not be ridiculous, it is not too much,” he responded.

“Half of these gowns are worth more than my entire House.”

“I wish for you to have only the best,” Aegon said, matter-of-factly.

“Do you treat all your guests as such?” you questioned.

Aegon smiled. “Not all of my guests deserve it.”

If you did not finish a meal, Aegon would yell at the kitchen staff for daring to make something you didn’t like, and he would tell them they were to make something he knew you loved, or they were to be terminated from their position.

You told Aegon to stop doing that, and stood watch as you made him apologize for the way he spoke to them. Afterwards, he was not concerned with their feelings, but rather, yours.

“Are you angry with me?” Aegon checked, “I only want the best for you.”

“I know, Aegon, but please do not disrespect anyone to ensure it.”

Aegon believed himself skilled at hiding his affections toward you, but he was mistaken. Quite literally everyone knew, including Aemond.

When you interrupted a council meeting to deliver news to Aemond, the guards trusting his bride-to-be with the information, Aegon watched in annoyance. You bent down to whisper in his ear, and seeing you in such close proximity to Aemond nearly made him sick.

You went to pull away, but Aemond responded, gently holding your head close to him so that he could whisper in your ear, the words clearly only meant for you. Aegon could not help but display a sour expression, though he tried hard to hide it.

“Shall we get on with it, brother?” he spoke, cutting your personal conversation short.

Aemond smiled. He enjoyed setting off his brother. “It appears I have an urgent matter to attend to, my apologies,” Aemond spoke, standing and bowing toward the men of the council and his mother.

Aemond walked side-by-side with you, your conversation continuing. Aegon saw you lightly chuckle and smile at something Aemond said, and he was incapable of focusing on much else for the remainder of the meeting. No one else was supposed to make you laugh. No one. Not even your betrothed.

Aegon spent that night furious, the fire in his blood burning hotter than usual. He decided to confront you, demand to know what made you laugh, confess his feelings, tell you not to marry Aemond-

He knew he couldn’t. He stood in front of your chamber doors, fist raised, but did not knock. He was moments away from leaving when he heard a small whimper from the other side of the door.

Aegon couldn’t help himself; he pressed his ear to the crack of the door, intently listening to see if any more noises followed. The more he listened, the more he heard soft whines and whimpers, and he knew the pitch and tone of your voice well.

He softly cracked the door open, unable to control his curiosity, and nearly fell to his knees at the sight before him. The sounds were a result of you touching yourself. His cheeks turned a deep shade of red as he watched you. You couldn’t tear his eyes away. He was addicted to the sight.

He eventually forced himself away when he heard the faint sound of armor clamoring down a nearby staircase. He retreated to his chambers and remained awake for hours, unable to get the sight and sound of you out of his head.

He snuck out to the street of silk, in desperate search of anyone who reminded him of you. When he would someone of a similar height, build, and feature, he presented them with more coins than he remembered bringing.

He told the woman that she was to only respond to your name.

He bent her over on the edge of the bed, unclothing himself and immediately inserting himself into her. One hand wrapped around her hair, pulling her head backward, as the other gripped her waist.

She began to moan as he thrust in and out, but it sounded nothing like you.

He shushed the woman, and she stuttered, “you wish for me to be quiet, Your Grace? Most men wish the opposite.”

“I do not care what most men wish,” he responded, affirming that he wanted her to be quiet. Her noises were pulling him out of the memory of you, but he quickly returned, repeating the sounds in his head as he snapped his hips forward.

He squeezed his eyes shut, disconnecting the soul of the woman in front of him from her body, his mind’s eye replacing her with you.

Though the noises you made stuck in his brain, it was not only the sight of you eliciting them that he thought of. It was you as you normally were, smiling, laughing, swinging your hair backward to turn around- just existing.

Aegon desperately wanted to have you, to worship your body, to be the reason you made the noises he heard, but it was not purely lust. He also refused to accept that anyone else could make you laugh or smile, could make you feel content, or could make you feel truly happy. He knew Aemond could not give you the proper love and affection that he could. Aemond was not capable, and even if he was, he did not understand you like Aegon did.

When the family hosted a rather lavish event to commemorate your betrothal to Aemond, Aegon drank the Red Keep’s wine dry. He would down entire cups in one gulp and immediately demand another.

He watched Aemond intertwine his fingers with your own, and without even thinking, he smashed a glass on the table.

The room’s attention turned to him, but he leaned back in his chair and called for another drink as if nothing happened. Alicent shot him a disappointed glare, but Aegon simply kept on drinking.

Despite how furious he was, he could not stop looking at you. Even on his brother’s arm, you were the most exquisite creature he had ever seen. It did not escape his attention that the gown you wore was one of his extravagant gifts.

He was brutally awaken by the pounding of a fist against his chamber door in the depths of the night.

He rubbed his eyes as he opened the door, only to find Aemond, still clothed and put together from the celebration.

“We must speak,” Aemond said, inviting himself into Aegon’s chambers.

Aegon threw his head back in annoyance and shut the door. “What is the hour?”

“You must keep your distance from her from now on.”

That woke Aegon up. “No.”

“Brother, I know of your affections toward her, but they have forced you cause a scene in front of the whole of King’s Landing. She is not to be your wife, she is to be mine, and I require you to act as such,” Aemond explained.

Aegon was tired, his head pounding from a brutal hangover. “You do not deserve this.”

“Thank you,” Aemond responded, misunderstanding, and taking it as an apology.

“No, I mean to say you do not deserve her,” Aegon corrected.

“Mind your tongue,” Aemond warned.

“I know I cannot have her,” Aegon started, “and that is something that will sadden me until the end of my days. That does not mean my affections will disapate. I swear to the Seven, Aemond, if you hurt her, I will fucking kill you myself.”

“You could not do so if you spent the rest of your days trying.”

“If you harm her, I will indeed try, even if it takes the rest of my days.”

#aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen drabble #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen one shot #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagines #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen angst #aegon ii targaryen angst #house of the dragon

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satellite-evans · 4 months

Text

Familiar Echoes

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: When Y/N, the daughter of the duke of Ashbourne returns to Aubrey Hall, old feelings resurface between her and Benedict Bridgerton, sparking tension and intrigue. As they navigate past misunderstandings with the support of their families, they must confront their emotions and decide if their childhood bond can evolve into something more.

Word count: 4.7k words

Warnings: fluff, a little angst, mention of nude models, childhood friends, misunderstanding

A/N:

Hi everyone, this is my first Benedict fic so I am very excited, hope you guys will like it :)

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The sun cast a warm, golden glow over Aubrey Hall, its rays filtering through the trees and illuminating the vibrant gardens where the Bridgerton children played. Benedict Bridgerton, with his dark curls and inquisitive eyes, was only ten years old, yet he was already showing signs of the artistic and passionate young man he would become.

In the gardens, Benedict was engrossed in a spirited game of hide-and-seek with his siblings and their dear friends, the Y/L/Ns. The daughter of the Duke of Ashbourne, Y/N, was Benedict’s favorite playmate. Her laughter was his favorite and her eyes mirrored something so beautiful, so pure.

Benedict, you’ll never find me!” Y/N called out, her voice echoing through the hedges.

He grinned, determined to prove his best friend wrong. They had spent countless afternoons exploring the grounds, creating imaginary worlds, and sharing secrets that only they understood.

Finally, he spotted her hiding behind a rosebush. “Got you!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand and twirling her around.

She laughed, her joy infectious. “You always find me, Benedict.”

He smiled, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “I’ll always find you, Y/N.”

But the idyllic days of childhood were not to last. That evening, over dinner, the Duke of Ashbourne announced that his family would be leaving London for an extended stay in Italy. The news hit Benedict like a blow, and he struggled to hide his disappointment. He looked over at his friend and saw those same pure eyes filling up with tears. It broke his tiny heart into pieces.

“Leave London? Whatever for?”

Benedict was thrilled that his mother asked because he desperately needed to know why they had to leave.

“We have decided it is time to show our children the world. My father took me on similar journeys when I was their age, and those experiences were invaluable. I want Thomas and Y/N to have the same opportunities—to see different places, learn new things, and broaden their horizons.”

Your mother nodded in agreement, her expression resolute. “We believe it will be good for their education. There’s so much to learn beyond the walls of London, and we want to give them a chance to explore and grow in ways they cannot here.”

Violet glanced at the Viscount, her husband Edmund, who had been listening quietly. He smiled and nodded, understanding the importance of such a decision. “I agree with you, William,” he said to your father. “Traveling and experiencing different cultures can provide a wealth of knowledge and perspective that one simply cannot gain from books alone.”

Thomas, your older brother, seemed very excited about the upcoming adventure.

But Y/N did not.

She was thinking all about how terribly she was going to miss her dear friend Benedict and how awful it was going to be, not to be in his presence all the time.

After dinner, Benedict found Y/N in the music room, softly playing the pianoforte. He approached her, his heart heavy.

“Why do you have to go?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N looked up, her eyes filled with sadness. “Father believes it’s for the best. He wants us to experience life. He also mentioned that we will also visit Greece and many more."

“But what about us? What about our adventures?” Benedict’s voice cracked with emotion.

She reached out, taking his hand in hers. “We’ll always have our memories, Benedict. And we’ll see each other again. I promise.”

Benedict squeezed her hand, trying to hold back tears. “Promise?”

“Promise,” she echoed, her voice firm despite the tears in her eyes.

After staying a few more days at Aubrey Hall, the Y/L/N family departed, leaving a void in Benedict’s heart. As their carriage disappeared down the long driveway, he stood beside his father, Edmund Bridgerton, who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Time will pass quickly, my boy,” Edmund said gently. “And you’ll see her again before you know it.”

Benedict nodded, but the ache in his heart remained. Little did he know, their next meeting would be years away, and the feelings he harbored would only grow stronger with time.

Years had passed since the Y/L/N family’s departure, and Benedict had grown into a handsome and talented young man. He pursued his passion for art with fervor, yet a part of him always yearned for the companionship he had once shared with Y/N.

The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm golden glow over Aubrey Hall, when Lady Violet Bridgerton received the letter. She was seated in the drawing room with her children, each engaged in their own activities. Anthony was reviewing estate documents, Colin was reading a book, Eloise was writing furiously in her notebook, and the younger ones were playing a game by the fireplace.

"Everyone," Lady Violet called, her voice filled with excitement. "I have just received the most wonderful news."

The Bridgerton children looked up, curiosity piqued.

"What is it, Mother?" Anthony asked, setting aside his papers.

Lady Violet grinned. "We are to have guests. The Duke and Duchess of Ashbourne, along with their children, are coming to visit."

A chorus of reactions followed. Eloise raised an eyebrow. "The Ashbournes? Weren't they the family that moved away to travel the world?"

"Yes, indeed," Lady Violet confirmed. "The duke was a dear friend of your father. They moved away years ago, but they have decided to return for a time."

"Does this mean we’ll get to see Thomas again?" Colin asked, a grin spreading across his face. "I always liked him."

"And Y/N," Daphne added, her eyes twinkling. "I remember she was always so talented in the pianoforte and the harp."

Benedict remained silent, a slight blush creeping up his neck. He hoped no one would notice, but of course, Anthony did.

"Well, well, Benedict," Anthony said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It looks like your childhood crush will be reunited with you," Anthony said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Benedict tried to maintain his composure. "Don't be ridiculous, Anthony. That was ages ago."

Colin chimed in, unable to resist the opportunity to tease his brother. "Oh, come on, Benedict. We all remember how you used to follow her around like a lost puppy."

Eloise snickered. "And how you would turn bright red whenever she spoke to you."

Benedict sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. "I was a child. We’ve all grown up since then."

"Perhaps," Anthony said, leaning back in his chair. "But it will be interesting to see how things play out now that you’re both adults."

Lady Violet intervened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Enough teasing, boys. Let us make sure everything is ready for their arrival. They will be here in a few days, and I want everything to be perfect."

As the family dispersed to prepare for their guests, the three Bridgerton brothers found themselves alone in the study.

Anthony leaned against the desk, his expression thoughtful. "It will be good to see Thomas again. He was always a good friend."

Colin nodded. "I heard he’s become quite the gentleman. And he was always supportive of Y/N’s education and talents. Not like most men of our time."

"True," Anthony agreed. "Thomas was never one to adhere strictly to societal norms. He always did what he thought was right."

Benedict, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. "I wonder how much Y/N has changed. She was always so passionate about music and poetry."

Colin grinned. "Still thinking about her, eh? You know, Anthony and I used to place bets on when you would finally tell her how you felt."

Benedict rolled his eyes. "You’re never going to let this go, are you?"

Anthony laughed. "Not a chance. But in all seriousness, Benedict, it will be good to see them again. And who knows? Maybe this visit will bring about some unexpected surprises."

Benedict sighed, but a small smile played on his lips. "Maybe."

Y/N stood by her bedroom window, looking out at the rolling hills of their estate as the sun began its slow descent. She was filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension about their imminent departure to Aubrey Hall. The Bridgertons had always held a special place in her heart, especially Benedict, but years and distance had complicated those feelings.

"Are you ready, Y/N?" Thomas's voice called from the hallway.

Y/N turned away from the window and smiled as her brother entered the room. "Almost. Just gathering my thoughts."

Thomas gave her a knowing look. "Excited to see the Bridgertons again?"

"Of course," Y/N replied, smoothing down her dress. "It's been too long."

Thomas leaned against the doorframe, his expression thoughtful. "You know, Anthony mentioned in his letters that Benedict has been quite busy at the Royal Academy. Apparently, the place is famous for its...nude models."

Y/N's hand froze mid-air, her heart skipping a beat. "Nude models?"

Thomas nodded, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Yes, it seems our dear Benedict has been immersing himself in all aspects of art. Anthony said in his letter something about him knocking over an easel while staring at a rather attractive model. Everyone had a good laugh. Quite the scandal, isn't it?"

Y/N's cheeks flushed as she tried to mask her reaction. "It's part of his training, I'm sure. Nothing more."

Thomas watched her carefully, his smirk growing. "You’re right. Still, it's interesting, don’t you think?"

Y/N forced a smile. "What’s your point, Thomas?"

"My point," he said, stepping closer, "is that you seem unusually interested in Benedict’s artistic pursuits."

Y/N met her brother’s gaze firmly. "I’m interested in all my friends' pursuits. Nothing unusual about that."

Thomas chuckled, shaking his head. "Very well. But remember, Y/N, I know you better than anyone. I can tell when something—or someone—is on your mind."

Y/N lifted her chin. "And I can assure you, Thomas, that my mind is perfectly clear."

"Fine, fine," Thomas said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But if you ever need to talk about anything, you know where to find me."

Y/N nodded, grateful for her brother's support, even if she wasn’t ready to share her feelings. "Thank you, Thomas. Now, let’s focus on the journey ahead."

"Agreed," Thomas said, offering his arm. "Shall we?"

Y/N took his arm, and they made their way downstairs where their parents were waiting. As they stepped outside, she felt excited about the days to come. But also jealousy, which she never felt before in her life. She knew that it was none of her business what Benedict did or did not do. Nevertheless, she could not help herself feeling this way.

The journey to Aubrey Hall was filled with excitement and nostalgia. As their carriage approached the estate, memories of their childhood flooded Y/N’s mind. She felt a mix of eagerness and nervousness, wondering how much had changed. Still, there was a feeling Y/N couldn't shake away. The things that her brother told her about Benedict still haunted her. Benedict changed, she knew that for certain, but she really hoped that his feelings did not.

" It feels so strange to be back again," Thomas said, making Y/N turn to him. "It is like we have never left."

Her father nodded. "I get what you mean. It was like yesterday when you and Benedict were chasing Y/N and Daphne in the garden while Edmund and I were watching with a smile on our faces."

After mentioning the late Viscount, the eyes of your father started to fill with tears. He was in shock when the news came that Edmund passed away. It took him a few months to process the tragic loss of his closest friend. Y/N could not even imagine what Benedict went through.

"We all miss him terribly," your mother said, taking her husband's hand in hers. "But there is no need to sadden ourselves with the past. You will get to see Anthony as the new viscount. I'm sure he fitted the title well."

Your father smiled at his wife and kissed her hand. She always knew how to lift her spirits.

"Just like how Thomas will fit the title of the duke of Ashbourne well." Thomas rolled his eyes while Y/N and her parents started laughing.

"Believe me, father, that it will be years before I will get the title. You will live a long life with mama and your children and grandchildren by your side."

the funny banter between the Ashbourne family was not something new. They always have differed from the rest of the ton. There was no marriage pressure. The duke and duchess put the education of their children first, wanting nothing but happiness for them.

"Look, they have arrived!"

The Ashbourne carriage rolled to a stop in front of Aubrey Hall, the Bridgerton family waiting outside to greet their guests. The air was filled with anticipation and a touch of nostalgia as the two families prepared to reunite after so many years.

Lady Violet stepped forward with a warm smile. "Welcome, welcome!"

The Duke of Ashbourne, a distinguished gentleman with a friendly demeanor, was the first to step out, helping his elegant wife, the Duchess of Ashbourne, out of the carriage. Following them were Thomas and Y/N, who looked around with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"It’s wonderful to see you, Violet," the Duke said, embracing Lady Violet. "Thank you for having us."

"The pleasure is all ours," Lady Violet replied. "We’ve missed you terribly."

As the Ashbournes stepped out of the carriage, the Bridgerton children moved forward to greet them. Anthony, Colin, and Benedict engulfed Thomas in a warm embrace.

"Thomas, it’s been far too long," Anthony said, clapping him on the back.

"Indeed," Thomas replied, smiling. "It’s good to see you all."

Y/N followed, greeting each Bridgerton sibling with a warm smile and a hug, her demeanor friendly and welcoming. However, when she reached Benedict, her expression changed. She gave him a polite nod; her smile barely reaching her eyes.

When Benedict watched her getting out of the carriage, he only had one thought.

She is breathtakingly beautiful.

Her blonde hair changed into a darker shade of brown, but her eyes were the same. They were still mirroring such beauty he wished he could draw. Her smile was still contagious, affecting him immediately with his own.

" Mr Bridgerton, it is good to see you. How have you been?"

Mr Bridgerton? Why was she so formal suddenly? Was she not as excited to see him as he was seeing her?

"Miss Y/L/N, It is great to see you too. I am well, thank you for asking, been quite busy with my paintings."

Y/N’s gaze turned icy. "So I’ve heard." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked straight inside, leaving Benedict standing there, bewildered.

As Benedict watched her retreating figure, he felt a pang of hurt and confusion. He glanced towards Thomas, who was already looking at him with a knowing look, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Sensing the tension in the air, Thomas was the first to speak. "Well, it is rather chilly out here. Let’s all follow my dear sister inside, shall we?"

The group laughed, the tension easing slightly as they followed Thomas into the grand entrance hall of Aubrey Hall.

As they made their way inside, the tension between Y/N and Benedict did not go unnoticed by the rest of the family. Lady Violet exchanged a concerned glance with the duchess while Anthony observed the interaction with a furrowed brow.

Once inside, they were led to the grand dining room, where a sumptuous feast awaited them. The grand dining room at Aubrey Hall was resplendent with crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the elegantly set table.

The Duke of Ashbourne, seated beside Lord Anthony Bridgerton, raised his glass. “To old friends and new beginnings,” he toasted, his voice rich and warm.

The toast was met with a chorus of agreement and the clinking of glasses. As the first course was served, Lady Violet began the conversation. “William, Eleanor, how has your journey been so far? Any memorable adventures?”

Eleanor smiled, glancing at her children. “It’s been a wonderful experience. We’ve seen so many beautiful places, and the children have learned a great deal.”

“Indeed,” the Duke added. “Thomas and Y/N have taken to it splendidly. Y/N, in particular, has been quite inspired by the landscapes for her poetry.”

Lady Violet’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Poetry, Y/N? That’s marvelous. You must share some with us later.”

Y/N smiled politely. “Of course, my lady. I’d be happy to.”

As the conversation flowed, it eventually turned to the Bridgerton siblings. “Benedict,” the Duke said, turning his attention to the second eldest Bridgerton, “I hear you’ve made quite a name for yourself at the Academy.”

Benedict, who had been quietly observing Y/N, nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. I’ve been fortunate to study under some very talented artists.”

Y/N, unable to suppress her irritation, interjected with a cool tone. “Including some very talented models, I’ve heard.”

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Benedict’s cheeks reddened slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Yes, we do work with models. It’s a necessary part of our training.”

The duchess, sensing the awkwardness, tried to steer the conversation back on track. “I’m sure the experience has been invaluable, Benedict. Art requires such dedication.”

Benedict nodded, but his eyes remained on Y/N. “It has been invaluable. Every aspect of it contributes to our growth as artists.”

Thomas, ever the peacemaker, chimed in. “Anthony told us about some of your work. It sounds quite impressive.”

Y/N’s lips curled into a tight smile. “Yes, very impressive. Especially the part where you managed to knock over an easel. Quite the spectacle, I hear.”

Benedict’s jaw tightened, and he glanced around the table, noting the concerned expressions of his family. “It was a mistake. One that was quickly rectified.”

Colin, trying to lighten the mood, laughed. “Well, Benedict has always had a flair for the dramatic.”

Eloise nudged her brother. “Perhaps a bit too much flair, at times.”

Laughter rippled around the table, but the underlying tension remained. Y/N felt a pang of guilt but was too stubborn to relent. She glanced at her brother, who gave her a pointed look, silently urging her to ease up.

Lady Violet, ever the gracious hostess, smoothly transitioned the conversation to more neutral topics, asking about the sights the Ashbourne family had visited and their future plans. The dinner continued, but the strained interactions between Y/N and Benedict cast a shadow over the evening.

As dessert was served, Lady Violet addressed Y/N directly. “Y/N, my dear, I’ve heard you play the pianoforte beautifully. Would you grace us with a performance after dinner?”

Y/N, grateful for the distraction, nodded. “Of course. It would be my pleasure.”

The meal concluded with polite conversation, but the tension lingered. Y/N excused herself to prepare for her performance, and as she left the dining room, she felt Benedict’s gaze on her, filled with a mix of hurt and confusion.

Later that evening, Y/N sat at the grand pianoforte in the drawing room, her fingers dancing gracefully over the keys. Heart filled with the hauntingly beautiful melody of a piece, she knew the room—Benedict's favorite.

The Bridgertons and Y/L/N's watched in silent admiration, but Benedict’s eyes never left Y/N. He was captivated, every note and every word pulling him deeper into the memories of their shared past. As the song drew to a close, Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and as the last note lingered in the air, a single tear slipped down her cheek. Across the room, Benedict’s own eyes misted over, a tear tracing a path down his face as well. The rest of the family exchanged knowing glances, sensing the intense, unspoken connection between the two.

Y/N stood, curtsied, and, with a polite smile, excused herself from the room, needing a moment alone to compose herself. As she walked down the dimly lit hallway, her heart ached with a mixture of regret and confusion.

Benedict, unable to bear the distance and misunderstanding any longer, quietly followed her into a room. “Y/N, wait,” he called softly.

She stopped but didn’t turn around, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Yes, Benedict?” Her voice was calm but strained.

He approached her cautiously, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. “Why are you treating me like this? What have I done to deserve your coldness?”

Y/N finally turned to face him, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Benedict. I’ve been perfectly polite.”

Benedict shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. “No, you haven’t. You’ve been distant, cold. This isn’t like you. Please, tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it."

She crossed her arms defensively, her gaze piercing. “I don’t know what you’re imagining, but there’s nothing wrong. Perhaps you’re just seeing what you want to see.”

His frustration bubbled over, and he stepped closer, his voice low and intense. “This isn’t about what I want to see, Y/N. This is about what’s real. You’ve changed towards me, and I need to know why.”

She took a step back, her breath hitching. “It doesn’t matter, Benedict. Go back to your paintings and models. I could not care less."

His frustration turned to desperation, Benedict reached out and gently but firmly grasped her arm, pulling her back towards him. They stood face to face, the tension between them crackling with electricity. His voice was a murmur, filled with desperate longing. “But you do care, don't you? Why do you care, Y/N? Tell me.”

Her eyes locked onto his, the intensity of his gaze making her heart race. She tried to look away, but he cupped her cheek, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Tell me, Y/N. Please.”

Her defenses crumbled, and she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t care. Why should I? What you do is your own concern.”

His grip on her arm tightened slightly, his breath warm against her skin as he leaned in closer. “You do care. I can see it in your eyes. In your big beautiful eyes. Why won’t you admit it?”

Her voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling with the effort of holding back her emotions. “Because it’s easier not to. Because admitting it means facing the truth.”

“What truth?” Benedict’s voice was a mere breath away, his lips inches from hers.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could no longer deny the truth to herself or to him. “That I never stopped caring about you, Benedict. That I’ve loved you since we were children, and the thought of you with someone else… it breaks my heart.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers. “And I’ve loved you, Y/N. I’ve loved you every single day we’ve been apart.”

She closed her eyes, the tears finally spilling over. “Then why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I was a fool,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same way. But I can’t keep it inside any longer.”

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The world seemed to fade away as they poured all their longing and love into that one moment, finally allowing themselves to feel what they had denied for so long.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. “No more secrets,” Y/N whispered, her voice shaky but filled with hope.

“No more secrets,” Benedict promised, his eyes shining with love and determination.

They stood there for a moment, holding each other, the weight of their confessions lifting from their shoulders. The tension that had once filled the air was replaced with a sense of peace and newfound understanding.

Just then, a voice broke the silence. "Well, well, what do we have here?"

Y/N and Benedict sprang apart, startled, as Thomas stepped into the hallway. His expression was serious, his eyes locked on Benedict. Y/N's heart raced, fearing her brother's reaction.

"Thomas, I—" Y/N began, but Thomas held up a hand to silence her.

"I always knew I’d have to deal with this day," Thomas said, his voice low and dangerous. He turned his gaze to Benedict, who stood his ground, though a hint of apprehension flickered in his eyes. "Benedict Bridgerton, you have compromised my sister's honor. There’s only one way to settle this."

Y/N’s eyes widened in fear. "Thomas, please, don’t—"

Thomas continued, a stern look on his face. "We must duel."

The hallway fell silent, the tension thick in the air. Then, to Y/N's utter astonishment, Thomas’s serious expression broke into a wide grin, and he burst out laughing.

"I’m just kidding!" he exclaimed, clapping Benedict on the shoulder. "You should have seen your faces!"

Benedict let out a relieved laugh, shaking his head. "Thomas, you nearly gave us both a heart attack."

Y/N exhaled deeply, her heart still pounding. "Thomas, that wasn’t funny!"

"It was a little funny," Thomas said, still chuckling. "But really, everyone in the drawing room is waiting for you two. They’ve been hoping for this day for a long time."

Y/N and Benedict exchanged a glance, their relief mingled with the lingering rush of adrenaline.

Thomas gestured back towards the drawing room. "Come on, let’s not keep them waiting."

As they re-entered the room, the gathered family turned to look at them. Lady Violet and the duchess’s faces lit up with delight, and Daphne’s eyes sparkled with joy. The Duke of Ashbourne stood beside Lady Eleanor, his expression warm and approving. Anthony, Colin, Eloise, Gregory, and Hyacinth were also present, each showing various degrees of amusement and happiness.

"There you are!" Lady Violet said, her smile warm and knowing. "We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost."

"Come on," Colin said, grinning broadly. "Don't keep us waiting. Are you finally together or not?"

Y/N's cheeks flushed as she glanced at Benedict, who nodded, smiling. "Yes, we are," she said, her voice clear and steady.

Lady Eleanor’s face lit up even more. "Well, then, I think it’s safe to say we can start planning a wedding."

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. "Mama, it’s way too soon for that!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing even deeper.

The Duke of Ashbourne chuckled, patting Y/N's shoulder gently. "Your mother is just excited, dear. But we should let the young couple take their time."

Colin and Anthony, standing near the fireplace, exchanged a look and grinned. "Well, Benedict, looks like you’ve finally caught the eye of a Duke’s daughter," Colin teased.

"Always aiming high, aren’t you, brother?" Anthony added, his tone playful.

Benedict, his arm still around Y/N, beamed. "I guess I’ve always known what I wanted."

Daphne approached Y/N, embracing her warmly. "Welcome to the family, officially."

Y/N’s heart swelled with happiness. "Thank you, Daphne. I’m so glad to be here."

Eloise, ever the sharp-witted observer, smirked. "Well, it’s about time. I was beginning to think you two would never figure it out."

Gregory and Hyacinth, the youngest Bridgerton's, clapped excitedly. "Does this mean we get to have another party?" Gregory asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Hyacinth grinned. "I hope so! I love weddings!"

As the evening continued, the family celebrated the long-awaited union. Lady Violet and Lady Eleanor eagerly discussed wedding plans, while the Bridgerton brothers teased Benedict good-naturedly.

Thomas, watching the scene with a satisfied smile, caught Y/N’s eye and gave her an encouraging nod. She smiled back, her heart full.

Later, as the festivities wound down, Y/N and Benedict found a quiet moment together. He took her hand, his eyes full of love. "I meant every word I said earlier, Y/N. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She looked up at him, her heart brimming with emotion. "And I love you, Benedict. More than I can say."

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. "Let's always be together. Always."

"Agreed," she whispered, feeling the weight of the past lift away.

As they stood there, surrounded by family and love, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful future together.

#benedict bridgerton #fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton fluff #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton s3 #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #bridgerton x reader

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lillithsalvatore · 24 days

Text

million dollar man

pairing: royal!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

summary: the price of loving a million dollar man, a prince

warning: modern royal au!, mention of cheating, angst, minor dni, cursing, asshole jace (?), cried. like and reblog are appreciated!! my 1st imagine, please be nice!!

---

"Did you fuck her, Jace? Answer me!" you demanded your soon-to-be-husband, your voice trembling with anger as you stared at Jace, eyes burning with rage. In your hand was a newspaper from a well-known publication, which you held up in front of him. A news about him with his 'childhood bestfriend'

When Jace finally confessed, nearly shouting, "Once, just once, and I fucking regreted it" your heart tightened. His admission felt like a powerful blow to the trust and pride you had invested in him. Your anger intensified, but beneath it all, a deep sadness began to take hold of your mind.

"Once?" You gave a bitter smile. "Even once is fucking enough to destroy everything we had, Jace."

Jace looked at you with regretful eyes, but that only made you feel more exhausted. "Do you know? I trusted you more than I trusted myself. And you betrayed that trust for a moment of weakness."

"Y/n…" Jace began, trying to approach you, but you raised your hand to stop him.

"Don't!" you choked out, but your voice remained firm. "Don't make this worse Jace”

You took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "I loved you sincerely, but love cannot continue when trust has been shattered."

Finally, you turned away, heading toward the door,

"I hope you never make anyone else feel the way I did."

Jace stood there, frozen, feeling the pain in every word you spoke. He realized that you were not just angry about the betrayal, but also about feeling disregarded, pushed aside in a relationship where you had poured all your heart and soul.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, —" Jace said, his voice trembling, but you couldn't bear to hear any more. Apologies at this point only deepened the pain.

"Don't apologize, Jace," you replied, your voice breaking with sobs. "Sorry doesn't change anything. You chose her over me, It's always been her, Jace."

You could feel Jace's hand still holding yours, but now, that warmth no longer provided the comfort it once did. Instead, it only reminded you of the times he wasn't there for you, when he chose to protect someone else over you.

“Please don’t do this, please let me fix it” He begged

"I tried so hard, Jace. I gave you everything I had, but you chose her, even if you didn't realize it," you said, your voice now filled with nothing but exhaustion and despair.

Jace didn't know what to do, what to say to fix his mistake. He could feel everything between you falling apart, piece by piece, with no way to put it back together.

"Y/n, I—" Jace started, but you interrupted him, pulling your hand out of his grasp.

"I can't stay here anymore, Jace. I can't keep going like this. I guess that's the price of loving a million dollar man."

"And I giving this ring back to you, I hope you'll find someone who deserve it" You turned away, moving towards the door, trying to leave this suffocating space before your heart completely shattered.

Before opening the door, you looked back at Jace one last time, hoping he would understand what you couldn't put into words: that you had loved him deeply, but you couldn't stay with someone who no longer belonged to you.

And then, you walked out of the apartment. As the door closed behind you, you felt a profound sadness but also a sense of relief, as if a great burden had been lifted. The tears had dried up, leaving a void in your heart, but it was a necessary emptiness, allowing you to move forward, to find yourself again and rebuild your life from the ruins.

And though the pain was immense, you knew you had done the right thing. You chose yourself

Jace might realize his mistake, but it was too late. The love and trust you had given him were no longer intact. Now, you had to seek happiness for yourself, a happiness unbound by emotional scars.

And so, you moved on, looking toward the future, knowing you deserved a true love, a love that would never betray you.

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon imagines #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys velaryon modern au #modern!jacaerys velaryon #harry collett #harry collett imagine #harry collet imagines #harry collett x you #harry collett x reader #harry collett x y/n

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worriedvision · 9 months

Text

He ignores you after an argument - Dr Ratio

Gender neutral reader, angst with an ending that can be viewed as happy. Dr Ratio shows his immaturity, and he only realises how close he is to losing you when Argenti makes an appearance.

"What do you mean, 'can you try to be more considerate'? If you cannot comprehend a genius' words, you are not worthy of my time!" Your boyfriend huffs, turning around to place his mask on.

He always did that when you had arguments, but the words that were paired with his actions were what worried you. You had really stepped in it, trying to tell him that you weren't finished with your sentence. You were getting frustrated that he wouldn't stop interrupting you and, sometimes, filling in the statements incorrectly. You ignored your frustration in the past, but it boiled into this argument you just had with him. You were doubtful that he would think about your feelings even after he calmed down, so you mentally prepared yourself for the silent treatment.

Days became weeks, and weeks became months. He still wasn't talking to you, and you were heartbroken. You dive yourself into your work, the astral express themselves commissioning you because of Dr Ratio's words of praise of your intellect. Swallowing the temptation to explain he was likely exaggerating to help you with getting work, you go along with it. Your boyfriend, despite no longer talking to you after the argument, tags along. You both get separate rooms - something you are thankful for, considering how awkward you felt around your partner. You didn't even know if he was considering himself as your boyfriend or if he mentally checked out since the argument.

Now, Argenti decided to make an appearance. Turns out, he had an issue with his ship, so he had to request some resources from the astral express. You had tried to speak to your boyfriend, who was still playing chess by himself as he ignored your pleads for forgiveness - apologising for failing to communicate effectively. Struggling to keep yourself together, you walk to the other side of the room before taking a seat. Pulling out your folders, you get to work on other projects. Hearing someone walking towards you, you assume they'll just be taking a seat somewhere close, only for them to sit right next to you.

"A beauty as precious as one you possess shall not be under-appreciated by an unrequited love." He begins, Dr Ratio halfway through playing a knight, freezing up at this man hitting on you. "With brains to accompany your radiant and decadent beauty, I shall request that you consider flourishing under someone to cherish you."

Dr Ratio gets up from his seat, his mask literally starting to crack as he begins to storm over to you. He realised, through Argenti's speech, that he ought to treat you better since he truly loves you. He had to show you that he has been thinking of you, about how to apologise - he simply kept his mask on because he thought he didn't deserve to show his face until he thought about how to apologise to you for interrupting you. By the time he knows what to say, his mask breaks entirely, falling to the floor to Pom-Pom's distain.

In the middle of Argenti clearly scouting for you to join him on his ship, Dr Ratio walks behind the couch and wraps his arms around you, side glaring at Argenti.

"Apologies, but this is a prize I won." Dr Ratio growls, Argenti chuckling as he gives Dr Ratio a light warning that you were likely going to get snatched up by another man if he screwed up again.

Your boyfriend comes to take Argenti's place on the couch, pulling you in for a hug, he begins his apology.

"You didn't talk to me for months, you know?" You pout, your boyfriend scolding himself inwardly for being immature.

"You are the one who's more empathetic than myself. I need to put more effort into understanding your feelings, I'm lucky that you're still alright with me hugging you despite the argument." Dr Ratio sighs, squeezing you as he looks over your shoulder to read your work.

"...I almost forgot how amazing and intelligent my partner is." Dr Ratio smirks, you turning your head to look at him. "If I have to wait a year for compensation of my neglect to remain yours, I would gladly do so."

#dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x gender neutral reader #argenti #dr ratio #gender neutral reader #angst

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citrustan · 10 months

Text

slipping through my fingers [1] (myg)

title: will i ever see you again?

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut summary: yoongi usually has an explanation for everything. why can't he talk you through this? warnings: [it is important that you read the prologue before this]

It takes you a good five minutes to gather yourself. Yoongi doesn't dare to disturb you.

Still leaned against the wall, you take a few steady breaths.

You don't know why but you don't cry.

The news of him dating another person is enough for you to have an intense breakdown, let alone marrying someone.

This will forever serve as a reminder that you weren't enough for Yoongi.

You kind of just want to go straight to bed. Pretend this never happened. Just deal with it later.

After your break-up, a big part of you always thought you'd end up getting back together. And that no matter how long it takes, Yoongi would be your endgame. He was it for you.

Over the past year, your contact with Yoongi had reduced. He was always busy when you called. Always working.

But now that you think about it, it was you who assumed that he was working. He never claimed he was.

For all you know, he could've been dating.

Pfft. 'Could have.'

He most definitely was.

And he didn't tell you. Not even your friends told you about it.

You don't know what's worse.

You're pushing yourself away from going into a dark place. Where you begin to wonder.

The only question that refuses to budge is: What does she have that you don't?

In all honesty, you wish he never told you. You don't want to know what type of a person his future wife is. You do not want to know if they'd have children together. You do not care if they buy a house together, or if they already have one. You don't want to know.

And you don't want to think about what it'd do to Nao.

When you begin to truly register the possible consequences of Yoongi's marriage, you feel anger. It spreads through your veins in a millisecond.

Had Nao already met this woman? You doubt that because she never told you about it.

Would it be confusing for her to understand what's going on?

Is that woman going to be parenting your child too? You violently shook your head. You won't allow that.

You are her only mother.

The pressure in your chest only deepens the more you think about this.

Yoongi has stolen your peace.

How are you to move on from this? And you hadn't even confronted half of the thoughts you're having. The anger never subsides.

He's going to send you right back to therapy.

"_____?" Yoongi comes looking for you.

You cannot afford to lose your composure in front of him. You don't want to give him more reasons to be grateful for your break-up.

You had to step away for just a bit longer, "I'll be right back."

You were about to turn and hide in your room when you feel Yoongi yanking your arm back.

With a surprised yelp, you pull it back just as forceful.

"Talk to me." Yoongi pleaded with his eyes.

No.

"I...-" You trail off. The words were caught in your throat. I don't want to see you again, ever.

This was such a disaster.

How does one move on from this?

"_____. I'm sorry." He tried again.

Yoongi had it all planned. He was going to sit you down and ease it in on you.

Instead, he chickened out and ended up dropping a bomb on you out of nowhere.

He's usually the more composed one out of the two of you, and he screwed it up.

You sigh, "I don't know why you're apologizing."

After a moment, you swiftly walk away from Yoongi and peek into the living room.

Nao's attention is still on the movie.

"Has she met Nao?"

Yoongi shook his head profusely, "I wanted your permission first."

At this you're confused.

Unable to separate your emotions, you sarcastically laugh. "My permission to let your daughter meet her father's future wife?"

It's like a bell ringing in your mind. Your laugh transitions into a bit of a manic one, "What if I told you no? What happens then?"

Yoongi kept his calm, "Then she won't meet her now." You scoff.

Immediately, you give in, having no interest in continuing this conversation. "Then do whatever you want. She's your daughter too. I can't make decisions for you."

You start to walk away from him when he stops you, "_____. Let's just... talk."

“I don’t want to.” You sternly announce.

This would be a lot easier to handle this if he just got mad at you. It’d be easy to hate him if he were being unreasonable. In all honesty, even then you’d probably never be able to truly hate him.

“_____, I’m sorry,” Yoongi softly brings your attention to him. His eyes were directed towards your feet.

It doesn’t phase you. His blanket apology for whatever happened doesn’t make up for anything.

You want to ask him what he was apologising for. But you don’t really want to go there. Not in front of Nao.

You cannot subject her to this instability anymore than you already have.

“Ask your daughter if she wants to meet your wife,” you spat, “Not me.”

Yoongi knew you were angry. He also knew exactly why. Still, he can’t bring himself to talk you through it. It’s too soon. He needs to let it simmer.

As much as you don’t want him to think (know) that you’re just bitter for very obvious reasons, that ship has already sailed.

You don’t think you can do a whole lot to salvage it. Might as well ride it out for now.

With the risk of sounding pathetic, you turn your body towards him. “How come you’re marrying someone else?”

Yoongi’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he sighs deeply.

“_____...” He coos, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

There's a pause, a moment where the air seems heavy.

The noises from the TV sound muffled. Time slows down for you to hold yourself together.

“I don’t want you to ever doubt yourself, _____.”

That’s not under his control. Hell, you yourself can’t help it.

“I don’t,” you lie.

“I want you to know that it wasn’t an easy decision. I just… She broke me. I don’t know how but I changed.”

…

That’s what you get for respecting his boundaries.

This is a slap in your face. He better not be saying what you think he is.

“She convinced you?” You question him pointedly.

So, you could’ve ‘broken’ him too? So much for not being an overzealous girlfriend slash baby mother.

“No! I just changed my mind about-“

You wouldn’t let him finish, “No.”

“No?” Yoongi was starting to get a little agitated.

“I… don’t want to know.”

“Okay. That’s okay. Let’s talk tomorrow,” Yoongi agreed.

The two of you take a little break from the almost heated conversation you just had.

“I’ll finish up in the kitchen. Are Mimi’s bags packed?”

“Yeah, just need to get her toothbrush after she’s done.”

Your ex-boyfriend’s nickname for your daughter was Mimi, and you preferred Nao. Nao prefers Nao too but she’d never break her daddy’s heart like that.

He gives your arm a subtle squeeze as he moves past you to get back to the kitchen.

You head to Nao’s room to get her bag as she excitedly follows you in.

Turning to her, you tilt your head towards her, “Did you turn the TV off?”

“Yes! And I unplugged the wire.”

“Good girl.” You give her a genuine smile.

You don’t know what your future is going to look like with Yoongi’s wife in the picture. What if Nao doesn’t like her? What if she doesn’t like Nao?

Your heart drops at the thought of them having a kid. What if she pushes Yoongi to leave you and Nao?

No, he’d never. You’ve got to give him more credit than that.

Wait.

Is she pregnant? Is that why he wants to marry her?

You were pregnant too.

You already know you’re going to kick Taehyung’s ass for not warning you about this new woman in Yoongi’s life.

“MOMMY.” Nao’s scream brings you back.

“I’m sorry! Mama’s here. W-” - “Daddy’s calling.”

Okay. Deep breaths.

“Go on ahead, I’ll bring you your bag.” You then instruct her to brush her teeth at her dad’s.

Nao hugs your waist, burying her head into your side. It tickles a little.

Then, she runs off to find her father.

Soon, you follow her and drop her bag by the door.

Yoongi reappears from the kitchen, drying his hands with a paper towel. He stops in front of you and waits as Nao jams her feet into her pink Crocs.

Seemingly in deep thought, you stand by them. You don’t want to end tonight on a weird note. Even though you’re hurting, you can’t let him see it. For so long, you just assumed you’d find your way back to each other even though you never actively put effort into it.

Now, it seems downright outlandish.

Your next moves are not to save face but an attempt to actually move forward.

“Yoongi!” You call out to him as if he were miles away.

A little startled, he raises a brow at you in question.

“You should introduce them.” You nod, mostly to yourself.

At this, his expression changes. It’s softer and… almost aching.

“And congrats.” You added shyly. “You deserve to be happy.”

Your vision began to blur.

NOOOOOOOOOO. Not now. Please. PLEASE.

You gulp and smile. Yoongi knows the smile. He begins to extend his arms, inching towards you, as if he were about to embrace you.

“Mommy.” Nao winks, blows you a kiss, and runs out of the apartment, breaking whatever moment the two of you just had. You scrunch your brows at the now-empty doorway.

Yoongi scoffs in amazement.

“You should go,” you urge him out of the door, not allowing him to respond to you. “Now. Bye.”

Yoongi simply allows you to push him out, still a little stunned by the two of you.

“Make sure she does her math homework!” You get the last word in as you slam the door in his face.

Had your daughter not distracted you, you don’t know what you’d have done.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ underwater by red velvet ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: these song recommendations go great w the story!! u should give it a listen :*

thank u for all the love and attention you've given to this little project 😍

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marvelsmylife · 6 months

Text

Confrontation

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: after finding out that both Feyre and Rhysand knew you were Azriel’s mate you decide to confront them on why they would suggest a threesome knowing it would hurt your mate. Turns out Rhysand wasn’t being truthful to both you AND Feyre.

Warning: angst. Rhysand being a complete and utter ass.

A/n this is part two of Jealousy,Jealousy

ACOTAR Masterlist

You were absolutely livid at not only discovering that both Feyre and Rhysand knew Azriel was your mate, but they still wanted to have the threesome, knowing it would hurt Azriel. If you had known the truth, you would have never gotten involved with them. “Azriel, I’m so sorry for getting involved with them. Had I known we were mates, I would have never done it. I take mating bonds very seriously, and I would never intentionally hurt you,” you started to apologize and felt your heartbreak when you started feeling his emotions through the mating bond that finally snapped into place.

“It’s not your fault,” Azriel reassured you: “I’m sorry that you’re in the middle of this.”

“Still,” you pause: “I feel horrible that I hurt you. I wish I was able to go back in time and stop myself from doing it.”

Azriel wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head: “It’s going to be ok. We’ll confront them tomorrow.”

The following day, you stormed into Rhysand’s office with Azriel following closely behind you. Rhysand had a smirk when you entered and was going to comment on how Feyre was thankful for fulfilling her fantasy when you walked over to him and slapped him hard across his face. Rhysand looked at you in shock at your actions: “Why didn’t you tell me that Azriel was my mate?” you yelled at Rhysand, causing your friends to rush into Rhysand's office: “Azriel told me last night that you used the threesome as an attempt to make him jealous and get him to confess he was my mate. I would have never agreed to the threesome if I had known all of this.”

Just then, Feyre rushed into the room to see what was going on when you turned to her: “I’m disappointed in you too Feyre. How could you go along with Rhysand’s plan to have sex with me in an attempt to make my mate jealous.”

“I’m sorry what. ” Feyre's confusion into anger and glared at Rhysand before turning to you and apologizing: “I’m so sorry, y/n Rhysand told me Azriel was ok with it. Yes, I’m attracted to you, but I would have never agreed to the threesome if we didn’t have consent from your mate !”

At that moment, everyone looked at Rhysand as if they waiting for him to explain his thought process. What you weren’t expecting, was for him to excuse his behavior: “He was never going to confess if I wouldn't have done this. I also wanted to make my mate happy. If that meant lying a bit to make it happen, so be it. But I will not apologize for making my mate's birthday memorable for her.”

You were shocked at Rhysand's reasoning and realized you couldn’t be around him anymore. “Wow, well in that case, I quit. I cannot work for someone who won’t admit they are wrong,” you announced and looked over at Azriel: “You’re more than welcome to visit me at my home in the day court, but I will not be stepping foot in this court again.”

Azriel was ready to follow you out when Rhysand called out to him: “If you walk out that door with her, you won’t be welcomed back.”

Not liking that Rhysand threatened him, Azriel turned and followed after you.

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar imagine

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fayes-fics · 7 days

Text

The Secrets We Keep: Pt II

<< Part I

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Knowing someone your whole life doesn’t mean they can’t surprise you… (part II, see above for link to part I)

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m to f), cunnilingus, hand job, vaginal sex, woman on top, orgasm. Also a lot of fluff and a few dashes of angst.

Word Count: 8.5k (13.6k for complete fic, including Pt I)

Authors Note: Part 2 of 2. Part 1 linked above. My longest gestating WIP! It’s been more than 18 months since I received a request for this secret diary fic. Tulip Anon, I have no idea if you still follow me, but I hope you think I did your detailed request justice. Here is the conclusion to this Benepic! Betaed by the awesome @colettebronte, who I can’t thank enough. Enjoy! 🫶

-vii-

The first thing you feel is throbbing pain, an insistent drum in your head, mouth dry as if you have been chewing cotton wool—the instant regret of excessive drinking floods through you. However, when your eyes reluctantly peel open, your predicament escalates.

You have no earthly idea where you are. Or how you got here. The last thing you remember was Benedict kissing you; then the room was literally spinning from entirely too much brandy.

Still in the dress you wore yesterday, but tucked under crisp white linens. A trace of a familiar scent upon the pillow that you cannot quite place in your fuzzy state. Gingerly sitting up, you try to get your bearings, not yet awake enough to have any reaction beyond puzzlement.

The room is darkened, thankfully, save for a sliver of the rising sun that slashes across the bed through a narrow gap in the curtains. You are in a large mahogany four-poster bed; the room is decorated in rich jewel tones—heavy velvet burgundy drapes and dark blue Persian rugs, panelled walls on which stunning artwork hangs. Embers glow in a nearby fireplace as you spy your pelisse hanging on the back of a door and your shoes neatly arranged nearby.

Then you twist and see the bedside cabinet, and your stomach plunges.

There, alongside a glass of water, is your notebook. Your secret notebook. The one that should still be concealed within the hidden pocket of your pelisse. But instead, it is here. And what is worse, it is open. Open to a page with one of your favourite sketches of Benedict: his eyes crinkling against the strong rays of the sun, a carefree smile on his face.

Instantly, you grab it and slam it shut. Fingernails drumming urgently on its silken cover, now hugged into your chest. Horrified that your mystery generous benefactor, who must have seen you to bed, has also been privy to your most private thoughts.

Galvanised by a need to solve the mystery of who, you relinquish your tight hold on the tome. It is then that a folded letter slips out of its pages and drops into your lap. Tentatively, you unfurl the paper and are aghast by the headed notepaper declaring the author and revealing your host. The worst possible person you could think of.

But then your gaze falls to the elegant script inked onto its thick parchment, and your life is indelibly altered.

Dearest Y/n

I hope you are well-rested. There are so many things I am impatient to impart, but I must begin with an explanation and, indeed, an apology.

You are in my bedroom, at my lodgings. I brought you here as I saw no other option that would guarantee your safety and welfare, which is always my utmost concern. I made pains to ensure your arrival here was not seen, and I must assure you, in case your recall is uncertain, that nothing has happened between us beyond our kiss.

Now onto my apology, which is two-fold, although I suspect it should contain multitudes more. Firstly, my most sincere and unreserved apologies for my ungentlemanly conduct at our last two encounters. As wondrous as those kisses were, they were nonetheless inexcusable. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my impulsive actions.

Secondly, I must apologise for my discovery of this, your private diary. My knowledge of its existence is purely accidental; I removed it from your coat merely as a wish for your possessions to be in neat order upon your awakening. My knowledge of its contents, however… for that, I must throw myself at your mercy and beg for your forgiveness. Curiosity and liquor are not the best companions, and it seems both got the better of me.

In what I hope is partial recompense, I will confess a secret of mine. Arguably selfish in nature and most likely the worst possible timing, too. However, given what I have now seen, I am utterly compelled to convey it….

I love you, y/n.

Most ardently and most truly.

There is no person in the world I would rather spend time with. Whose thoughts I am always impatient to know and whose every moment I wish to be a part of. For some time now, you have occupied my every thought.

It is why I felt compelled to act when I heard from Eloise about your impossible situation. I will do anything within my power to assist you. It is why I said that I want to alleviate your burdens. I meant every word and more. My happiness is seemingly inextricably calibrated to yours—when I see you happy, it brings me great joy, and when I see you are not, it brings a pang to my chest I know not what do with.

I would have taken these feelings to my grave… were it not for this diary. When what I found hidden within ts pages gave me the exquisite burden of hope. Hope that perhaps you return my affections? May indeed have done so for quite some time as well?

I must also take a moment to compliment your poetic talent, and that is to say nothing of your artistic abilities, which quite frankly are humbling. Dare I dream of a day that we could paint together? Sorry (Again! Multitudes indeed!), I am likely getting far ahead of myself.

I will not be home when you read this. Partial cowardice on my part, no doubt, but born out of utmost respect. You always deserve the right to choose, y/n, and that includes what you do with this confession. I do not wish for you to be obligated to see me or let me know your response, thoroughly eager though I am to hear of it.

If you wish to speak to me before your wedding ceremony, please leave your hair ribbon tied to my phaeton upon your departure. I will find a way to see you. If you do not, I shall, of course, respect your decision.

A vila mon coeur, gardi li mo: You will always have my heart; I hope you also choose to be its haven.

Benedict

You could read this confession a thousand times over and still scarcely believe it; the depth of his feelings declared plainly, boldly, and so lyrically in writing. You pour over it once more, giddily aglow, your fingers tracing across his elegant, looped script, your lips moving as you mouth his words, needing to have them within you somehow. Then, you lovingly refold and place the letter between the last two blank pages of your notebook—a more fitting denouement to its contents you could not imagine.

You put on your shoes and pelisse, still floating on a cloud. A valet meets you in the hallway and, with a wordless nod of acknowledgement, leads you out of the rear mews entrance, handing you a large silk scarf to conceal yourself under. With one final glance up at Benedict’s abode, you unfurl the ribbon from your hair and, insides aflutter, tie it in a neat bow onto his phaeton before wrapping the scarf around your head and stealing out onto the streets of Mayfair.

-viii-

Still in a daze about Benedict’s confession, you slip into the servant's entrance of your family home, tiptoeing through the dormant kitchen and tugging off the scarf. Just as you believe yourself home-free, Mrs White, head cook and ersatz maternal figure, materialises from the pantry, nearly dropping a bag of flour in surprise.

“Lawks alive, sweet child, you gave me a fright!” she exclaims, clutching her chest. “Pray tell, why are you sneaking into my kitchen at the crack of dawn?”

You cringe and turn sheepishly to meet her gaze. “Sorry for the scare, Mrs White. I, um, indulged rather too heavily last night. I was in no fit state to return home. I stayed with a trusted friend.” The truth, albeit behind a veil of obfuscation. “Please do not tell Father!” you add hurriedly.

As she plunks down the flour and smacks her fingers together to rid them of its nascent dust, she chuckles. “I shall not divulge if you do not… for I was already under your father’s employ when I did the same many years ago, the night before I made my Harry an honest man.”

“Deal!” you giggle, clutching your notebook tight to your chest, unable to quash the ebullience fizzing in your being.

“You look as if you caught a rainbow and sold it to the sky,” she declares, crossing her arms and observing you closely. “Wedding day excitement, yes?!” she adds pointedly with a raised eyebrow, even as her tone very much suggests she suspects otherwise.

“Of course, Mrs White…” you concur, attempting to conceal the quirk of your lip.

She rolls her eyes and shoos you affectionately towards the hallway. “Away with you! I suspect the less I truly know, the better…”

You say nothing; just give her a nod and race up the servant's stairs, keen to make it to your bedroom unseen.

As soon as you are safely there, you toe off your shoes and only then relinquish your vice-like grip upon your notebook to hurriedly change into your nightgown as if you had been asleep in the house all night. Enacting a plan you conceived on the brisk walk home, you grab a night bag from your ottoman. Flinging open your wardrobe, patently ignoring the wedding dress hung upon its door, you bundle the notebook with a couple of your favourite outfits and stuff them into the bag. Buckling it shut while you scoot across the room, you open the sash window and - with a quick check of the garden below - drop the bag into the large rhododendron beneath, hopeful the dense, fragrant blooms will conceal its presence for now.

Just as you are closing the window, a gaggle of ladies descend upon your room, led by your fussing mother, your ladies' maid Rachel among them. Realising she has had to lie to keep your cover since yesterday at the modiste, you silently shoot her a brief look of reassurance.

“Rise and shine, darling!” your mother chimes. “‘Tis your most special day!”

And then everything is a blur as the preparation for your wedding starts in earnest, you still slightly detached from it all, your thoughts purely of Benedict. It is only sometime later that you get a few moments of peace with just Rachel as she puts the finishing touches to your look.

“You seem changed, my lady…” Rachel opines sotto voce, sliding a pin into your hair.

You say nothing, even as your eyes meet in the vanity table mirror, unwilling to confess details of what has transpired just yet. Unsure yourself even what it could mean until you get the chance to see Benedict yourself, your stomach in knots to do so.

“I told your family you took dinner alone last night in your room after returning from the modiste, and then you went to sleep…” she whispers, leaning in even though you are alone.

“Thank you. I am truly grateful,” you offer sincerely before adding: “I will tell you more when I am able. I do beg one more favour of you…?”

She makes eye contact again in your reflection, giving a brief tentative nod after a pause.

“If you should hear from a Bridgerton valet, please follow any directions he provides,” you implore, the image of your hair ribbon fluttering gently in the breeze emblazoned in your mind.

“A valet? Not a ladies’ maid?” she checks softly, frowning.

“Yes, just please… do as he asks?”

“Yes, my lady,” she demures before reaching for your jewellery.

It is only as the carriage you and your mother ride in shudders over the cobblestones towards St George’s church an hour or so later that reality comes crashing in.

So engrossed in thoughts of seeing Benedict all morning, you had almost forgotten the dreadful fate that likely awaits you. A sudden spike of fear that he will not turn up, that something will prevent him from seeing you, or, heaven forfend, today’s stiff breeze has blown your hair ribbon asunder.

All at once, your head is spinning, your dress feels too tight, and there is a plunging dread in the pit of your stomach, your skin prickling hard before your vision seems to swim with dots before narrowing to blackness…

“Y/n!? Whatever is the matter?!” your mother’s alarmed voice rings out as you woozily return.

You are slumped sideways against the glass window, its cool surface a balm on your suddenly fevered temple.

“Is it what I told you about your wedding night…?!” she frets, her laced glove tickling your forehead as she appears to be checking your temperature. “I can assure you, you will get used to it…”

You bat her away and slowly sit upright, taking a calming breath while also trying to blot out the memory of her talk about marital relations right before you left the house. Not able to confess it as unnecessary without raising suspicion, you had to endure a stumbling, unhelpful explanation of things you already know. Indeed, you have witnessed at Granville’s parties, even if you have not taken part yourself.

But then the sudden thought of being required to do such with Lord Farringdon has you grasping the curtain, your empty stomach heaving at the mere prospect. The silent hope that Benedict can assist you at the eleventh hour is the only thing that stops you from passing out anew.

With a shaky gait and a queasy, oily feeling, you alight a few moments later, your mother lending an arm of support as your father and brothers pile out of the other carriage. This is to be the entirety of your wedding guest list. You have pulled into a side courtyard of the church, concealed behind high walls, away from the inquisitive sights of the Ton. The rushed nature of the union and Whistledown’s latest means your family has no wish for this to be a public event, keen to be rid of scandal. Only your immediate family, your husband-to-be and the vicar - a friend of your father’s - know of today’s ceremony. Well, and Benedict. You did not even get the chance to inform Eloise of this expedited schedule.

As he leads you up the stairs and into the side vestibule, your father informs you that Lord Farringdon is already awaiting you at that altar and that he will appreciate a swift ceremony. You swallow thickly and nod mutely, sensing the window of opportunity creaking closed with alarming alacrity, each incessant tick of the church clock seeming like both forever and not enough time, scrabbling for any chance to stall.

Just as you are about to lose all sense of hope, you see movement over your father's shoulder that has your heart leaping into your throat. There, through a mullioned window, you see the distorted outline of a phaeton swiftly pulling up on the other side of the church from where you entered, a palpable wave of relief and excitement washing over you.

Benedict has come!

-ix-

“Father, may I please have a moment alone?” you rush out breathlessly, pulse-pounding hard in your ears. Hoping he will interpret your request as mere nervousness about the imminent ceremony, you add: “Before I must take this big step and become a wife?”

He reluctantly grants your wishes, brusquely telling you it should be brief before following the rest of your family through the doors into the nave.

As soon as the coast is clear, you are darting out the entrance again and running around the outside of the church, wedding dress swishing around your legs, until you skid to a halt next to a pillar that conceals you from the street.

There, before you, arrestingly beautiful and jumping athletically down to the pavement, is Benedict—a vision in a blue velvet jacket and teal cravat.

Your eyes meet, and your knees want to buckle; such is the magnitude of the moment. He bounds up the granite steps and crushes his lips to yours briefly.

“No time to talk,” he rushes out. “If you wish to escape, take my hand, for we must depart now!”

Your heart hammers as you do the only thing you could ever want to: grab tightly onto his proffered hand as his face breaks out into the most arresting smile. Then it's a blur as he whisks you down the steps to his phaeton, hoisting you up onto its leather bench and throwing a blanket into your lap, then clambering in himself. With a shake of the reins, you lurch and take off down an alleyway at a rapid pace. The velocity of motion, red bricks of buildings whizzing by mere feet away, has you momentarily stunned and so you almost jump out of your skin when he speaks loudly over the rushing noise.

“Cover yourself before we get to the street,” Benedict advises quick-fire, only taking his attention off the road briefly to nod to the blanket. Just as you are struggling to conceal yourself, the horses careen onto Park Lane, attracting attention for the speed you are already travelling.

“Benedict!” you chastise, your arm shooting out to grab the side of the partial umbrella-like hood that arches over you, having to cling on for dear life. “This is not exactly a stealthy escape!”

“I know,” he grimaces, not looking at you, “but we must make haste and be as far away as we can as soon as possible.”

“Regardless of destination, we will need to stop at my house!” you almost have to yell to be heard over the jostling wheels on either side of you.

“Why??” His whole face screwed up in disbelief.

“I must gather some things! I will not leave without them, Benedict!!” you warn.

“What could possibly be worth stopping for?” he decries, the whole vehicle swaying violently as he rounds another bend.

“Perchance, other clothing?!” you wither loudly, frowning that he had not considered such, before adding: “And your letter!?”

His head whips around to look at you and there is an intensity in his gaze that has your heart stuttering. An all-consuming want to kiss his lips as his gaze falls to your mouth. Only the urgent yelp of a pedestrian you narrowly avoid colliding into rips your attention away from each other.

He rights the phaeton, tugging the reins so the horses slow.

“Alright,” he concedes, quieter, calmer. “But please do be as quick as you are able…”

You don't get the chance to inform him you have already packed and stowed a bag because he is pulling up in the quiet mews behind your family home. You jump down and take off, sprinting through the small gate and across the lawn. Soon, you are diving into the large bushes on the side of the house beneath your bedroom window. Fumbling around, you have to wrestle your dress from a branch before you reach the wall. Emitting a muted noise of victory as you are finally able to grab your bag and out of the foliage without looking.

“Miss y/l/n!?”

You jump out of your skin, spinning to see Mrs White standing at a nearby door, wielding a rolling pin.

“Mrs White, please,” you beseech, “please, do not tell anyone!”

She takes stock of you: your animated state, your wedding dress torn over your knee where it snagged upon that branch, a night bag grasped in your ringless left hand… and she appears to make a calculated decision.

“I fear I could not, my child,” she offers with a shrug, “I do not see anyone for me to tell of…”

The small, sympathetic nod and smile toying her lips has you barreling towards her, throwing your free arm tight around her as flour dust puffs onto the silk of your dress. You utter your thanks, flooded with gratitude, hugging her close before disentangling, you take off sprinting before she can say anymore.

-x-

As you depart from your family home, a companionable silence settles between you—a tacit understanding that there is much to discuss, but the journey is not the ideal place to do so. Both resolute to put some miles between yourselves and your family, likely now emerging from the church and wondering where on earth you are. A flare of guilt in your belly for not informing Rachel or even your mother. You resolve to send word tomorrow that you are safe without providing details.

As the edges of London give way to the countryside, you do decide to ask one simple question.

“Where are we headed, Benedict?”

“I have a suggested destination….” he begins enigmatically, an odd cadence to his voice, “but we will discuss that later, once we stop for the night at an inn.”

There is a little flutter behind your ribs at the thought, but it is forgotten as a strong gust of wind whistles over the carriage, making you shiver and burrow into the blanket, wishing you had grabbed your pelisse from the night bag before setting off.

You startle as Benedict pulls you snugly into his side, adjusting the carriage hood and then the blanket, too, so he provides partial shelter from the winds as they whip across the fields.

“I am sorry I do not have an enclosed carriage for you to journey in comfort,” he winces, his speech humming into you. “But it is best we use this speedier option anyway. We will cover more ground swiftly travelling light.”

You nod in acknowledgement. “Thank you for the blanket, at least; it is very considerate,” you respond, not unpleased to have an excuse to cuddle into him as you reassure him: “I am well now.”

Indeed, the warmth of his flank on yours and the steady rocking motion of the carriage is soporific, the whirlwind of the day hitting you even though it is merely lunchtime.

“Please rest if you need to,” he intuits, “I will wake you if needed.”

And despite the elements, you find the lure of sleep inevitable.

A warm wetness on your brow stirs you.

“Y/n…”

You wish you could always be roused like this; your name a soft rumble from Benedict’s lips as they trace gently over your forehead. You nuzzle unthinkingly into the sound and feel, which has him chuckling into your skin.

“We are here, at the inn….” he murmurs, his breath hot into your hairline.

You blink awake. “We are?!’” You twist to see you are stopped alongside an elegant Tudor wood building. “How long have I been asleep?!”

“All afternoon,” he admits, a touch sheepish. “You looked so peaceful and I assume you must need the rest after a tumultuous few days.”

His touching manner has a warmth spreading behind your ribs that makes you push up and land a kiss on his jaw.

“Thank you,” you whisper, pulling away but pleased to see a dot of colour high on his cheekbones.

“‘Tis nothing,” he demures before changing the topic. “I am sure you are hungry and in need of refreshments. So we shall dine and remain here for the night. We have covered a considerable distance from London already—around forty miles.” He jumps down and stands expectantly holding out a hand for you to follow suit as he continues speaking. “To avoid attention, we should present ourselves as family relations—cousins, perhaps?”

“I am in a wedding dress,” you remind as you wrestle your way out of the blanket and reach for him to descend.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he scans down your form, lingering slightly.

“Oh yes. Well. Umm. Perchance as husband and wife then?” he flusters as you step down with his assistance.

“Would that not draw the attention you mentioned we should avoid?” you murmur, your hands still joined even though you are on the ground now.

“Do you have another suggestion?” he queries, his breath warm on your face as you stand entirely too close, fingers flexing around yours.

“Unless you wish me to remove my dress out here…” you goad, a little crest of victory as his pupils rapidly dilate and he huffs a breath, “...then I do not.”

“We have much to discuss,” he almost growls, which stokes something low in your belly as he tugs you along towards the entrance, only stopping to nod briefly to the inn’s groomsman who emerges to take care of your horses.

-xi-

The tavern at the inn is a warm, convivial space, wood-panelled, the smell of delicious foods wafting in the air alongside the tannin of wine and the ferrous tang of dark beer as crowds of people of all walks of life gather. Benedict sees you into a corner booth away from other patrons as he orders food, then goes to secure your accommodation for the night.

As he returns, passing you a glass of wine, there is a nervous churning in your gut; this is the first opportunity you have had to talk properly since you awoke to his life-changing letter.

“I have no idea where to begin,” he confesses, looking perplexed, and it makes you reach out in reassurance over the table, pulse strong in his raised veins under your fingertips.

“Your letter was the single most wondrous thing I have ever received,” you offer honestly, his eyes softening, making your heart flutter. “Benedict,” you take a steadying breath before ploughing on with the truth you have never spoken aloud before, “I have loved you for as long as I can remember…”

His face lights up, and his hand turns under yours, your palms touching as he laces your fingers together in a tight knot, then brings your joined fists to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently.

“Why did you never tell me?” He entreats softly.

“Why did you never tell me?” You return lightning quick, a quirk on your lips that has him chuckling.

“An entirely fair accusation,” he concedes, shuffling closer and grabbing your other hand, your heads so close together now. “I suppose I thought my feelings irrelevant, futile even, that you would secure a titled husband. Though why your father chose such a vile one confounds me, I must confess.”

“I believe that a chastisement,” you commence but are interrupted by food arriving at your table.

So, as you eat, you explain the whole story between mouthfuls. That you were able to delay your debut last season in your father’s absence, but it meant this season, he was determined to see you matched swiftly. Recounting fondly your time spent with your Aunt Eliza, Benedict appearing impressed as you reel off all the skills you now possess. You also talk in detail about how her encouragement meant you fell into the London art scene and how you know Henry Granville. Benedict listens intently, taking bites of his dinner, but his attention never wavers from you as you recount everything.

“So yes, I believe the match was about my father’s wish to quash a perceived rebellion more than a match society might deem appropriate for the firstborn daughter of a Viscount.”

“An untitled second son, even less so,” Benedict muses softly, downcasting his eyes, a flare of insecurity that has you putting down your cutlery and grabbing his jaw.

“Benedict, please do not,” you petition, rubbing a thumb over his cheek. “You know me. You know that I have never cared what society might think! If I were to marry, I would only ever want it to be a love match. I would not give a damn if my husband were a penniless beggar as long as he loves and respects me.”

You pause as he raises his soulful gaze to yours, your faces so close.

“Luckily for me, the man who stole my heart fifteen years ago is neither penniless nor a beggar. He is a wonderful, caring, handsome, passionate artist who I would indeed be lucky to paint next to,” you conclude with reference to a line in his letter, a scene you can picture so clearly it seems more premonition than a dream.

“Fifteen years?” he repeats, a look of utter wonderment as he turns his lips aside to kiss your palm where you still cup his face. You nod, a little nostalgic smile tugging at your lips as he adds: “Then I must confess… I have never been more grateful for my incessant curiosity; it led me to your diary and thus to this very moment.”

He takes your hands from his jaw, then kisses both of your knuckles again in turn, but this time, he lingers, his lips warm, damp and pursed open, and a trace of his tongue dabs your protruding bone. A shiver runs down your spine, stoking something acute, dangerous and exhilarating.

“Do you know I have kept that notebook hidden since I was fourteen? Sewing a secret pocket into all of my coats or hiding it under floorboards so it would never be found. For six years. Yet it took you less than one evening…”

“Maybe it was waiting to reveal itself to the one person who needed to see it the most…” he muses between kisses, his breath gusting hot over your fingers.

That seismic but simple poetic sentence devastates your ability or wish to talk anymore—a thronging need for him that you are powerless to resist any longer.

“Take me to our room, Benedict,” you command, voice tremulant with want and hope.

His head shoots up, his face a captivating tapestry of barely bridled passion and astonishment.

“But I-I booked us separate rooms,” he stumbles, confounded, and that gentlemanly act just makes you want him all the more.

Uncaring that you are sitting in a wedding dress in a public tavern, you pitch forward and capture his lips in a kiss that instantly becomes passionate and demanding, your hand running into his hair and tugging him closer.

“You should return the key and request your money back, for that will not be necessary…” you decree, breathing the words into his mouth.

That seems to light a fire in him. He shoves back the table and sweeps you into his arms bridal style, striding out of the room purposefully, his mouth hot on yours, your pounding heartbeat almost drowning out the bawdy, raucous cheers from the drunken patrons you pass.

-xii-

Once the room door clicks closed behind you, his demeanour softens. He gently removes your shoes before setting your stockinged feet down on a plush rug in front of a roaring fire. He tugs his jacket off so he stands before you in a colourful waistcoat and ruffled shirt.

“Are you certain?” His ask is chivalrous, tinged with such delicate hope it makes you melt.

“I have never been more certain of anything in my entire life,” you declare candidly, boldly stepping towards him.

His hands encircle your waist as yours slide up his biceps, the warmth of his skin through the crisp white fabric making your blood run warm.

“I may be chaste, but I know of what we are to do; I have been at Granville’s, remember. I also know that I want this. So very much.”

“I am the luckiest man…” he asserts in a low rumble, your honesty seeming to ignite him again as he crowds into you.

It’s an electrifying kiss that has your scalp tingling: his hands moulded to you, mapping your every curve as you take from each other as you never have before, desperation bubbling over with each parry of tongues. His fingers land on the buttons of your dress, between your shoulder blades, silently asking permission.

“Rip it off me,” you urge impulsively, chest heaving within your stays. “I want you to destroy this very dress and everything it represents….”

His responding growl inflames your core, molten liquid heat as his large hands grab the material and tear it asunder from your body so you stand before him, trembling with desire in just your stays and chemise.

He guides your fingers to his waistcoat, the crackle of the fire and the huff of his breaths the only sound in the room. His chest rises and falls steadily as you work on each button. When you reach the last one, he shucks the garment from his torso, then crosses his arms and discards his shirt in one swift motion, sailing away in a puffed arch. The broad expanse of smooth chest before you has you tongue-tied. A lean musculature and pale complexion reminiscent of Italian renaissance sculpture… but living, breathing and looking at you as if you are the most precious thing on earth.

Long arms wrap around you, enveloping you in his warmth, fingers spidering up the notches of your spine through the thin cotton of your chemise until they reach your stays and pluck upon the laces there. He unties them slowly as his lips trail hotly down your throat. You have observed forms of intimacy but didn't expect the firsthand experience to be so rich, so all-consuming. The sights, the sensations, the scents. Like the tangy undernotes lurking beneath his woody cologne, an aroma that is all him, his bare skin. It makes your mouth water and lean into him; a want to be a part of him almost—so much heat and touch.

As your loosened stays drop to the floor behind you, a clawing need for his flesh on yours has you rapidly discarding your chemise over your head, naked now save your stockings. But before he has the chance to see, you propel yourself into him again, his solid chest colliding with your breasts, your peaked nipples trapped against his warmth. A loud groan from his lips that you swallow as you push up onto tiptoes and wrap your arms around his strong neck, kissing him ferociously. His grip slides down to grasp your bottom, pulling you into him, something rigid pressing your stomach through the refined wool of his trousers.

“Let me look at you,” he pleads, withdrawing a half step, his eyes sweeping covetously down your body as you feel aglow in the heat of the adjacent fire. “You are so beautiful,” he attests shakily, an insistent throbbing between your legs that is all of his making, so close without any stimulation.

“Touch me, Benedict.”

It’s equal parts order and request, grabbing his wrist and guiding it low over your belly. His elegant fingertips curl through the patch of hair before swiping between your legs, dilated pupils boring into yours as you emit a wanton moan, knees almost buckling. A strong arm wraps around you to keep you steady as he observes you up close, repeating the motion, parting your folds this time, you honeying upon his fingertips as he glances over your swollen clit.

You whimper his name, and he claims your lips again, sliding the pad of his fingers over that spot over and over. Fingernails digging into his arm at his expert touch, the air swirling with the wet sound and scent of your arousal.

“You smell so utterly divine,” he groans, pitching forward and almost biting your bottom lip in a toothful, desperate meeting, your moans echoing over his tongue. “I need to taste you,” he stutters.

You have to shoot out an arm to grasp the mantlepiece as he suddenly drops to his knees before you and buries his face into your mound, inhaling deeply, his nose pressed onto your clitoral hood. He is so primal in his desperation as he lifts one of your legs and places it over his shoulder, diving into your folds, his tongue a wet, hot spear over your swollen nub. Your other hand burrows into his thick head of hair, scratching along his scalp as he hums his approval into your damp heat, the vibration causing sparks of pleasure to fan out.

It takes what little shred of concentration you have left to stay upright, clinging to the fireplace and him, rocketing skyward so dizzyingly fast, slack-jawed, breathless, rooted in your body as you gawk down at him. You had no idea this would be so intense, so carnal. His stare is fixated upwards on you, reading your reactions like a book, his glazed jaw moving with expert precision buried between your legs—an intoxicating sight that burns into your retinas.

“I need you to come for me, y/n,” he begs hotly into your soaked flesh, his tongue a muscular swipe greater than his fingers, his fingers plucking the ribbons holding your stockings loose so they slide down to your feet.

“I want to do so with you…” you gasp, unable to prevent whatever forms in your mouth from slipping out, leaking profusely onto his chin.

“You will; I promise,” his gravelly assurance, the permission you need to let go, riding his tongue with abandon, your body undulating, chasing that ephemeral high you have only experienced from your own touch before. But this is so much more, so wholly other, magnitudes indeed, the words from his letter never far from your thoughts even as you spiral somewhere close to bliss. His gaze locked onto you, able to read all your signs: skin flushed, ragged pants, shuddering with each quest of his tongue.

And then he gently bites your clit, and you are gone, his hands needing to clamp onto your hips to hold you upright as your body convulses. You cry out, sagging onto him as your body races with a high that fizzes in every cell, radiating in waves of pleasure that have you calling out, uncaring who may hear, incapable of anything but clinging to his hair for dear life and scrunching your toes into the thick wool rug underfoot.

You know you utter a curse, entirely overpowered by the euphoria coursing through you as he stands back up and pulls you into his arms, kissing your cheek chastely, the scent of you strong on his face. But as you come back to yourself, renewed passion stokes in you, determination to give as good as you have been given, a drive for mutual pleasure that has you shoving him backwards forcefully.

He falls back onto the bed, a look of total surprise claiming his face as you crowd over him, laying prone, attacking his trouser buttons with a vigour that has him stunned, his mouth agape. But he doesn't move to stop you, far from it. There is a flash in his eye as you grab his hands and cage them onto the sheets briefly before returning to attack his clothing. Wordlessly, he lifts his pelvis when you tap his hipbone, and then you are tugging his trousers down and off, flinging them across the room.

You are momentarily taken aback when you look down and realise he is without underwear, now as naked as you. His cock, nestled in a small patch of hair, is larger than you have seen before, tinged dark pink and leaking from the tip. It looks so good you bite your lip, a twinge deep inside that is pure want.

His moan is beautiful as you take him in hand. He is hot and steely in your grip as you move your hand up and down, learning his contours, fascinated by the contrast of how silky his skin is.

“I am so glad you have seen things you should not have,” he groans, squirming delightfully, so very responsive to your touch. It makes you greedy always to have him like this, yearning for you as much as you do him, stuttering your name as you change your grip and move a little faster.

“Please stop…” he grits out, his hand covering yours and slowing your motions, but you can tell it is utterly reluctant. “I am too close, my love…”

That reflexive term of endearment makes something melt behind your ribs, and you crawl up over him as you release his cock, claiming his lips in a kiss, his hands encircling your waist, pulling you down so that his cock is trapped under your pubic bone.

“I love you,” you breathe quietly over his lips, holding his face, wanting to convey the depth of feelings you have for this man.

“I love you too, y/n,” he replies earnestly, his eyes glassy, a cloud of emotion claiming his expression as his hands cup your jaw as well, a profound moment of heartfelt sincerity amid this tableau of fevered physicality.

“May I?”

Your ask is hesitant as you rearrange, sliding your legs up either side of his hips, signalling your wish to ride him, a need to be the one to give your virginity to him more than him to take it. Something achingly significant in the ability to choose.

He nods a reassuring and spellbound look, and a beguiling hitch in his throat as his tip brushes your entrance.

“It may hurt a little, my love,” he advises, wincing as if wishing that was not the case for you.

“I know,” you murmur back, grabbing his hands to aid you in sitting up so you have more range of motion.

And then, with a steadying breath, you lower yourself onto him, mouth falling open at the invasive stretch with barely a fraction of him inside you. His face is a kaleidoscope of everything you hope for him—joy and bliss. Your fingers grasp tight around his knuckles, your joined hands a knotted fist, as you feel a pinch of pain that makes you suck air through your teeth, knowing this is the moment you become a woman. So glad it is with him, the categorical love of your life.

Luckily, the ache is fleeting, and you sink lower, him moaning your name lyrically, you puffing a breath at the complete fullness. A pressure holding you open that is so galvanic you now understand the hedonism of what you have previously witnessed—the drive to satisfy an urge that is innate and potent.

“Oh my god, Benedict,” you stutter, as finally he is fully seated within your body, clinging to him, held open in the most arresting way.

“I know, my love, I know…” he soothes, untangling your hands to touch your skin, running his palms reverentially down your body. “You are amazing, a wonder…”

“Guide me…?”

He smiles and whispers gentle instructions for you to push up with your thighs and then sink back down, his hands now clamped around your waist to assist you. The sensation is indescribable, the drag of his cock against your walls as you slowly ascend and descend, trying to catalogue every second as a precious memory.

Your speed increases as you get used to the physicality of movement, a cloying, dewy heat spreading over both your bodies as you move in unison. He starts to tilt his hips off the bed to assist in your strokes, pushing to a new depth that catches your breath and has you muttering a curse, your hands scrabbling his abdomen, enjoying the flex of muscles there. His grip moves to your breasts, teasing your nipples in a way that has you gasping and riding harder. His fingers snagging on your sensitive buds is a beeline zipping to your engorged clit, that mashes into his body with every downward stroke you take. Still on a high from your last orgasm, it won't take much more for you to come again; this time, you hope in tandem.

His movements become more urgent, his noises louder, his touch firmer, squeezing you, bucking up with force now, making you moan with each new plunge onto him, as if he craves to leave an imprint of himself inside you.

“Are you close, my love?” you query, borrowing his term of endearment. It has his screwed-shut eyes flying open, his hands flexing on your hips, and a ripple up his rigid cock you can actually feel.

“Yesssss,” he hisses back, “please call me that again,” he entreats through clenched teeth, a prominent vein in his neck pulsing hard as his whole being seems to tense.

“My love,” you coo, treating it like a gift to bestow, addicted already to the effect it has on him, his fingers digging into your flesh in a way that will leave marks you will be proud to wear.

You move faster now, the sturdy bed squeaking in protest, the sound of your damp skin slapping together, taking even yourself by surprise at how visceral this is, especially for a first time. Expecting it to be less somehow and enraptured that instead, it is better, burning brighter than anything you have ever fantasised of—skin and sweat, muscle and bone, heart and body in rhapsody.

One of his hands squirrels between your legs, fingertips hooking against your clit, and within seconds, you are breaking. Your vision whiting out as you slam onto him, your pussy clenching in waves, his cock almost too much as you float somewhere that is both within you and a thousand miles above. Dimly, you sense his nails scrape your flesh as he calls out your name, loudly, debauched, wrecked, a strong pulse through his length as he shudders then goes entirely still, a warmth blooming deep inside your channel that is his seed, something about it so very primaeval.

You slump inelegantly onto his chest, huffing breaths, altered fundamentally by this magical experience. His touch is soothing, encouraging to lay upon him as he softens within you, eventually slipping out as you lay nuzzled together, exchanging soft words of sated joy—a sudden tide of fatigue lapping your edges. Fuzzily, you feel Benedict chuckle under you and, with hushed, tender words, rearrange your pliant body, rolling you onto your side and curling protectively around you, a warming presence that has sleep seizing you almost immediately.

Awakening the following morning in Benedict’s arms is sublime, his stubbled lips grazing your neck as he rolls you under his warm weight. Just as your body stirs under his sensual kisses, he stops and sighs, dropping his forehead onto your clavicle.

“I wish to spend a lifetime right here, entwined naked with you, my love, but alas, I must desist,” he laments softly. “We need to get moving…”

“You never did say your planned destination,” you point out, running your fingers into his lush hair as he tilts his handsome face up to meet your gaze.

“Did I not?” He lilts, feigning ignorance. “I blame you entirely; your beauty is far too distracting..” Flattery falling from his lips reflexively. “Well, anyway, we must make haste if we are to reach Scotland by Friday as I have planned.”

“Scotland?” you echo breathlessly. “That is so far! Why there?”

“Gretna Green, my love,” his eyes sparkling as he hovers over you, entwining the fingers of your left hands together, his thumb brushing your ring finger. “I hope you are amenable to my proposal...”

And your heart veritably explodes.

-xiii-

The journey is long but worth it. Your wedding, five days later, over the border in Scotland, is everything you could hope for—a beautiful, romantic, private moment for just the two of you, promising your lives to each other in secret. Something thrillingly illicit about its location, too, the place to which all forbidden lovers escape. You do not wear a wedding dress, just a simple light blue chiffon one you had thrown into your night bag, always a favourite since Benedict once complimented you in it. He wears a cravat in the same colour. Exchanging matching wedding bands engraved inside with the same phrase Benedict signed off his love confession with: A vila mon coeur, gardi li mo (Here is my heart, guard it well).

You are happily ensconced in his idyllic Wiltshire cottage by the time family reactions to your elopement reach you almost two weeks later. The Bridgertons are supportive if a little shocked; the dowager Viscountess is always enamoured with a dramatic love story. Your family is less so, but they cannot deny a match with a Bridgerton is no bad thing, even if it was fleeting gossip fodder. You hear from your mother that Lord Farringdon did not demand compensation for your abscondment from the altar. Apparently, you were not the first to do so. Rumour has it that the odious man is negotiating a marriage deal with the Cowpers for their wayward daughter. It may be the first time you have felt a pang of sympathy for Cressida.

Mostly, you are grateful that the more scandalous truth surrounding your union - Benedict stealing you away on your wedding day - never becomes public knowledge. Every couple must keep some secrets from the world, no?

Although, a couple of weeks later, on a leisurely Sunday morning, you discover your marriage can no longer be considered as such.

“Darling, you might want to see this…” Benedict drawls casually, wandering into the bathroom as you luxuriate in warm water.

He drops the latest issue of Lady Whistledown onto a nearby stool as he tugs off his shirt, apparently planning to join you in your bath. Your mouth falls open in shock as you grab the pamphlet. But it is not from his naked form as his trousers hit the floor; it's from what you read:

Lastly, this author may have to eat her hat. News has reached me that Mr Benedict Bridgerton had indeed done the almost unthinkable and married the spirited Miss Y/n Y/l/n. They exchanged vows in a quiet ceremony far from the prying eyes of the Ton and will now settle in Wiltshire, I hear.

“How did she find out?” you ponder aloud as he slides into the tub behind you. Surely Whistledown must be close to the Bridgertons to discover as such?

“I have not a clue. But perhaps I should send her some honey from our hives to make her headwear more digestible?” he jests, interrupting your reading by pulling you backwards into his arms.

“Mr Bridgerton!” you chastise playfully, holding the paper aloft to save it from the sloshing he creates as he surrounds you, laughing carefree, so much delightfully naked skin around yours.

“Are you done reading Mrs Bridgerton?” His tone changes to a husky murmur in your ear, his fingers trailing distractingly upwards over your ribs under the water.

“You just brought this to me, husband,” you riposte pointedly, but your argument dies off into a wanton noise as his hands slide up and cup your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples expertly. You abandon any attempt to focus on the page, tossing the paper aside and twisting to capture his lips with yours.

Upon the floor, as water splashes onto the wood nearby, the last few sentences you missed glow in a shaft of sunlight:

Congratulations on the latest Bridgerton love match, and I wish them a lifetime of happiness. As I am certain, do all of you.

What secrets will I unearth next, dear readers? Even I do not yet know. But I look forward to it. Don’t you?

Yours sincerely,

Lady Whistledown

masterlist • wips • taglist (follow this blog to be tagged)

Benedict taglist pt1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

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