#and it also makes me want to choke you out

[aureatelys]

adore you

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 3k a/n: written for @mggslover's 1k celebration event, congrats baby! i initially wrote 5k, hated it, and basically rewrote all of it but i swear i still had fun writing this. i hope you enjoy <3

summary:

Weird. You're acting like my boyfriend. - God Is a Freak, Peach PRC Your boss has essentially become your best friend. What the hell does Derek mean he looks at you a certain way?

c.w.: fluff! friends to lovers, age gap ofc, feelings realization, reader is oblivious and tipsy but is a consenting party

read below or on ao3 here <3

“So, you and Hotch, huh?”

You had just finished putting your coat up, stepping through the massive entryway of Rossi’s mansion, when Derek approaches you with that familiar shit-eating grin and hands rubbing together like he’s scheming something.

You blink up at him, confused. “Yeah… he gave me a ride.”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head but still wearing that smile that made you want to lovingly punch him. “Yeah, I saw that. I meant, you and Hotch aren’t…?”

You squint at him, because you really aren’t sure what he’s hinting at. Also, a glass of wine has been calling your name since you started getting ready and Derek is very much in the way of that. Hotch was always annoyingly punctual, and today was no different because you were honestly about to open up a bottle when you heard his car pull up in the driveway. “We aren’t what?”

“Sweetness. You’re really trying to tell me you and Hotch aren’t together?”

You choke on your spit, coughing so loud in your fist that it echoes down the entryway and gathers the attention of Rossi and Hotch at the end of it. You wave them off when they both give you equally alarmed and concerned looks while Derek laughs heartily, like the asshole he is.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss at him, slapping him on the shoulder as he nearly makes himself tear up from laughing.

Derek puts a somewhat apologetic hand on your arm as he steers you to the kitchen and pours you a glass of red, finally. “Hey, I see the way he looks at you, I just wanted to make sure I’m up to date on everything.”

And that catches your attention.

Your chest still aching from your coughing fit, you give him another perplexed look. “What? He looks at me the same way as he looks at everyone.”

Derek’s face morphs into a nervous, almost uncomfortable one as he starts slowly backing away into the living room, as if you were an unpredictable dangerous animal. “I think I’m gonna… look for Garcia.”

And then he turns on his heel and is out of the kitchen before you can blink, leaving you with your lone glass of wine and the sounds of laughter emanating from the patio.

You’re still so fucking confused, because you and Hotch were only friends. In fact, you can almost consider him your best friend with the way you two are spending so much time together, even on the weekends.

One late night spent in his office to work on reports that were due the next day that you had procrastinated on and ordering Chinese food eventually turned into a habitual thing, now spending the last hour of the workday every night in his office. Then, he started inviting you to the park to play with Jack who had apparently been asking for you, then staying for dinner because Hotch was not eating the way he should’ve been and him and Jack didn’t deserve to eat pizza rolls with mac and cheese every night.

It's been a couple of months and now, you can honestly say you two are nearly attached at the hip. You’ve tried to tone it down for the office, because you knew you would get teased, and clearly you were right.

But dating Hotch? Honestly, the thought had never occurred to you.

You’ve been single for over a year and you were okay with that, because at least the job kept you busy. And you know for a fact that Hotch hasn’t even thought about dating since Beth moved a couple of years ago.

The sudden thought of Beth, her pretty blue-green eyes and perfect hair, causes a sour taste to form in your mouth. You had never met her, having only technically heard good things about her, but every time you thought of her or someone mentioned her in passing, you felt… upset.

For no reason.

When you glance at Hotch from where he’s talking with the rest of the team on the patio, you catch his gaze for a brief second before he’s turning his head back around to chuckle at something Rossi says.

You feel your heart start to race, your blood rushing through your ears, because what the fuck did Derek mean when he said Hotch looks at you a certain way? You were telling the truth when you said you’ve only noticed him looking at you platonically and nothing more.

Sure, Hotch was conventionally attractive, handsome even. You guess he hit all your boxes in a guy; tall, capable hands, and pretty brown eyes. He was a good boss, a good man, and was always putting other people first before even thinking about himself. He had an intense sense of justice, loves children, and would do absolutely anything for his team and even beyond for Jack.

He has a nice laugh once you break down his walls. For all he’s meticulous at work, his house is absolutely chaotic and it takes you nearly an hour sometimes to get him and Jack ready for a soccer game. He doesn’t prefer to cook but he seems to enjoy it more when you’re in the kitchen with him, laughing at his technique and groaning about the lack of certain utensils.

The sudden realization that you like Hotch, your boss that is older than you by 20 years, hits you like a ton of bricks. You nearly snap the stem of your wine glass, something like panic and mortification climbing up your throat before you could help it.

It’s fine, you’re fine. It’s normal to have a crush on someone you spend time with on a regular basis and is conventionally attractive. You can deal with that.

But the absolute possibility that Hotch doesn’t want you romantically was very real. In fact, it had to be the only possibility. You were younger and less experienced, both romantically and professionally. The only reason that he’s been spending so much time with you was because you needed guidance and reassurance as the newest member of the team.

He doesn’t look at you any differently than the others. That’s it. Derek has no idea what he’s talking about.

You take a shuddering deep breath, quickly composing yourself because, hello, you work with profilers. Which meant you couldn’t avoid or hide from Hotch tonight, no matter how much you wanted to.

When you make your way out to the patio to join the others with a full glass of wine and you spot the only space left in the circle was between Spencer and Penelope, you internally thank whatever God was out there. The sound of them talking over each other about something inane was oddly comforting as your eyes met Aaron’s from the other side of the circle.

His eyes appeared golden from the numerous fairy lights strewn across Rossi’s backyard, making his face appear softer and younger. You’re not sure how it took you this long to realize he was so handsome.

He raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking if you were okay because, somehow, he’s grown to learn your facial expressions like the back of his hand, which means he most likely will catch on to you having a silly juvenile crush on him.

You give him a weak smile, raising your glass slightly before taking a large gulp of it. You’re glad that Rossi is Rossi and that he doesn’t spare any expenses when he throws his parties, the strong cherry flavor refreshing compared to your cheap boxed wine you’re used to. You don’t even remember what you were celebrating tonight, or if you were even celebrating anything at all and this was just another much needed get together after case after case.

You catch something soft in Hotch’s eyes that makes your chest pang painfully as he raises his own glass of whiskey before taking a sip. No one else has noticed, too enthralled by their own conversations, so the intimacy of the private moment doesn’t escape you, in fact making you even more anxious.

It was going to be a long night.

-

You are absolutely going to give Derek an earful on Monday morning.

It’s entirely his fault that you’re not enjoying Rossi’s party to the full extent, his words swimming in your mind.

Now, you’re psychoanalyzing and second-guessing everything Hotch does.

You had made sure to walk alongside Penelope on the way to the large round table for dinner, somewhat consciously as you continued to avoid Hotch but also because she was rambling about the show you suggested she watch. Spencer was on the other side of you, interjecting whenever he could, and you made a mental note that Hotch was still on the other side of the circle between Rossi and Tara.

So imagine your surprise when, after you tear your attention away from Spencer’s ramblings and back to Penelope, you’re met with Hotch’s pretty eyes and woodsy cologne instead.

“Oh, hi,” you say, hoping he doesn’t hear the shakiness that’s suddenly overtaken your voice as that familiar panic starts to crawl up your throat. This wasn’t going to be good.

“’Hi.” The corners of Hotch’s lips quirk up, eyes softening, and what the fuck is going on. “Can I sit next to you?”

You swear you’re going to have a heart attack. This man cannot be healthy for you. “Oh, yeah, sure.”

And then he’s pulling out your chair for you.

And it’s not anything new—he pulls your chair out for you all the time, in the conference room, in his dining table when you made not-pizza rolls, and even at restaurants the afternoons after Jack’s soccer games. You’ve never thought anything of it, but tonight, after your impeccably timed realization, your brain feels like it’s going to implode.

He’s just being a gentleman, that’s all.

“Thank you,” you manage out, heat starting to come to your face. Before Hotch, no one’s ever pulled your chair out for you. It’s nice.

Hotch doesn’t say anything, because of course not, just scoots your chair in closer to the table before he takes his seat on your right.

And he’s sitting really fucking close to you.

Have you always sat this close to each other before? You must have at least once during those late nights in his office, poring over case file after case file.

Not only could you feel the heat of his body just from sitting next to him, but his arm kept brushing up against your bare one while he ate, because of course you had to sit on the left side of a left-handed person. Every brush of the sleek fabric of his green button-up against your bare arm sent shivers down your spine despite the summer air, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

His hand kept brushing against yours as you ate and your eyes are drawn to how large his hands are as he handles his fork and the thickness of his forearms, having had rolled up his sleeves earlier. If you searched closely, you could find scars scattered over them through the dusting of hair, undoubtedly from his time on the job.

You don’t realize you’re staring at his Rolex and the way it glints underneath the lights, until Hotch is suddenly leaning into you. “Are you okay?”

Jesus Christ, hearing that smooth voice speaking lowly in your ear, breath warm as it fans over your cheek, causes all of the air in your lungs to escape. Has his voice always been that smooth, attractive?

When you risk a glance at him, conversations around the table slowly fading into the background, his face is merely inches from yours. His brows are pinched in concern and lips are pressed into a flat line. There’s something dancing in his eyes that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

You clear your throat. “Sorry, I think the wine is just getting to me.”

He chuckles low underneath his breath. “Good thing I’m driving.”

And then he’s knocking the back of his hand against yours, the briefest brush of skin that causes electricity to zing up your spine, and then he’s back to listening intently to Derek and Emily’s bickering over who cheated at the last game of charades.

At this point, you think Hotch is able to read your mind. Why else would he be touching you, be sweet on you, if not to torture you?

You try to wrack your brain through these past couple of months, trying to find whether Hotch touching his hand to yours has happened before or any other sign that he actually is attracted to you. You come up short.

You chalk it up to him loosening up from his whiskey. He’s already moved onto water, because he was your ride, after all, so maybe this was a fluke. A one-off.

But it’s not a one-off. In fact, you think you’ve honestly died and gone to Heaven after suddenly tripping and breaking your head open in the entryway after Derek spoke with you. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were actually on a date with Hotch, sans the rest of the team.

He must have noticed your distracted mood, because he’s making sure you’re included in almost every table conversation by glancing at you and giving you a smile that has started to make something flutter in your stomach. He’s participating minimally like usual, content to listen, but whenever he has a comment or thought he wants to share, he’s leaning in and sharing it with you.

He's leaning in to top of your wine, reaching over the table to get more of those green beans you like, and once even knocking his knee against yours underneath the table when you looked especially lost in thought while staring at your plate.

And then when the team has moved into the living room for charades, Emily wanting payback against Derek, it somehow gets even worse.

You’re quick enough to be the first to volunteer to not play due to there being an odd number of players, thus requiring Hotch to play. Everyone cheers teasingly, because Hotch is always quick to volunteer himself out of games, content to watch.

You blame the copious glasses of wine you’ve consumed and the decadent filling dinner, warmth thrumming through your entire body, when you poke at Hotch’s considerably firm bicep. “Show us what you got, old man.”

There are resounding oohs and aahs from the rest of the team. Something fuzzy settles in your chest when Hotch rolls his eyes good-naturedly at you and stands up from where he had sat next to you on the couch to JJ’s team.

You continue to nurse your wine, pleasantly buzzed, as you are thoroughly entertained by your team’s antics. Emily and Rossi argue at least 3 times, Penelope gets significantly close to having a private meeting with HR, and Hotch continues to stare at you.

Or at least, you think he’s staring at you. The alcohol has started making you second guess things even more than you already were. Because for some reason, despite JJ sitting on the other side of the living room and being on a team with her, he moved to sit in the empty spot next to you after the first round.  

He’s definitely participating in the game, even in second place behind Penelope and Derek, but you swear you feel his eyes on you now more than ever.

It’s distracting as you try to follow the game and guess along with everyone else. This time, the right side of him is nearly molded against your left side, pressing into you so hard that you’re starting to sweat from how much body heat he’s radiating.

When you glance at him to try and catch his eyes, he meets your gaze steadily. His hair is starting to come undone, a few strands falling against his forehead, and his dimple seems to have made a permanent appearance from how much he’s pretending not to laugh at his team’s antics.

It’s nice to see him enjoy himself—a flush rising up his neck and shoulders relaxed. Although you understand he has a certain image he maintains for his team, it’s become familiar to you.

By the time it dwindles close to midnight, there’s a chorus of yawns around the group. Penelope’s the first to call it, stumbling to grab a hold of Derek’s arm and dragging him with her out the door to drive her home, ruining your initial plans to catch a ride home with her instead of Hotch. After that, everyone starts to say their goodnights and exchanging hugs despite the chance you may get called on a case as early as tomorrow morning.

“You ready to go?” Hotch leans to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning over you again and causing heat to rise to your face.

“Absolutely,” you exhale, clutching the water bottle that Hotch retrieved for you in the middle of the game, hoping the breathiness in your voice could be blamed on how late it was.

When you get to Hotch’s car, heart full and warm after spending another wonderful evening with your makeshift family, he opens the passenger side door for you.

You think you’re going to lose your mind if he keeps this up. How are you supposed to stop having a crush on Hotch when he keeps doing things that justify that crush?

“Do you need to stop anywhere for anything? Are you hungry?”

You blame it on the wine despite the fact you’ve been drinking nothing but water for the past hour, thanks to Hotch silently getting you and only you a water. Your body and tongue feels loose, inhibitions naturally decreased, and it’s not your fault. It doesn’t matter if the soft lights of the driveway highlight the sharp angles of his face or the way his woodsy cologne has infiltrated your senses.

“Weird, you’re acting like my boyfriend or something.”

The silence that ensues is deafening. Your brain takes forever to catch up with you, but then you’re suddenly struck with humiliation and dread. You mind starts to race, as best as it could, when you realize that you may have just royally messed up the best job you’ve ever had and the best group of people you’ve ever met.

Before you can backtrack and say that you were just joking, Hotch carefully says “Do you want me to be?”

“What?” Wow, you really can’t hold your alcohol well, why did you drink so much wine?

And then Hotch is stepping closer, into your space, and you’d be worried that the rest of the team was going to see if the car door wasn’t shielding you from view from the front of the house. You get a whiff of whiskey on his breath again, but when you meet his eyes, there’s not a hint of the same full body dizziness you feel.

“Was I not being direct enough?” There’s amusement sparkling in his eyes, eyebrows raised. He looks like he’s politely trying to hide a fond smile. He’s teasing you.

This Hotch is the one you’ve grown to become familiar with over the past several months. Charming and unafraid to tease you when you’re away from prying eyes. Hotch is a private person, always has been, so it’s not a surprise that him essentially torturing you tonight was his version of being direct.

“You’ve been flirting with me?”

Hotch ducks his head bashfully to chuckle. It’s ridiculously endearing and you want to tug him closer and touch him all over. “I’ve been trying to flirt with you all month so I’m guessing I didn’t do a very good job.”

You stare at him as if he grew a second head, suddenly feeling much more sobered up than 5 minutes ago. Clarity sluggishly comes to you. The various invitations to spend the night or go out to dinner without Jack comes to mind. The touching had steadily increased, but you had assumed it was just due to Hotch getting more comfortable around you.

For a profiler, you weren’t very good at noticing what was happening right in front of you.

Hotch may be a ridiculously patient person, clearly since he’s been content to flirt with you for apparently a month while you didn’t notice, but you were not. You knew what you wanted. The wine still thrumming through your veins just gave you that little extra push.

You place your palms on his chest, relishing in the subtle firmness you can detect through his shirt, and you wonder if that’s his heart you feel thumping erratically or your own. “I promise I’m not that drunk and am fully aware of what is going on right now.”

Hotch hums and places his hands on your hips, the heat of him searing through the fabric of your dress. His eyes briefly flit to your mouth before back up at you. “I’m not sure if I believe you.”

Instead of providing a snarky response, and because you know Hotch wouldn’t make the first move since you did have some to drink, you finally lean in to close the distance between you two to kiss him.

It’s soft, chaste in a way that makes you feel pleasantly warm all over, the barest tendrils of electricity tugging at the pit of your stomach. The intensity of how much you like him, how much you adore him, nearly barrels you over, but Hotch’s grip on you tightens, steadying you. His lips only slightly move against yours, as if briefly testing the waters, but it does nothing to quell the sudden desire slowly twisting inside of you.

When he pulls back, chest only marginally heaving, you instinctively chase after him. He chuckles again, low and comforting, as his hands come up to hold you still by the shoulders. It shouldn’t feel as nice and soothing as it does. “I should take you home.”

“Are you coming with me?” You sincerely hope that Hotch doesn’t question you and your boldness tomorrow. Again, not entirely your fault.

“I’ll walk you to your door, how about that?” As if he already wasn’t going to do that.

On the drive back to your apartment, the tight ball of panic and uncertainty in your chest quickly unfurls and is replaced by affection, tenderness, and promises of the future. Hotch’s hand, large and protective, doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way home.

You make a mental note to send Derek a gift card and thank you note on Monday.

[nanahachi3]

"I AM GETTING RIPPED TONIGHT" | Skz

Summary: Nothing but hard thoughts with stray kids members.

Warning: This contains short adult scenarios. Minors should not read. This is part 1, and I will release part 2 soon. It's not my best work because I was busy these past months and couldn't write it properly.

Chan

Woah this was big.

Your eyes were still widened as his words echoed through your mind.

It was 20 minutes left before your show, and you were nervous. Heck, it was your first time performing at Coachella, and Chris was here backstage with you, trying to calm you down, and this way was weird. How did he do that?

You already know the answer: he was naked in front of you.

Chris veiny cock hardened in front of your eyes.

You gulped the nervousness down to your throat. You were inexperienced, and you never gave any guy a blow Job, and it was also your first time seeing a cock.

“Pretty, don't worry. I know you will be amazing. It's fine. I know you can do it.”

You needed to touch his tip, Making him chuckle. He looked so cute right now, his blush face and his curls flowing down to his forehead.

Your eyes were hooded, the nervousness was slowing down as he gave you his shy smile, and you touched his cock from tip to whole length, giving it soft strokes. Every touch was tender and made him feel something in his heart.

“Baby use that mouth of yours”

You understood his words and wrapped your lips around his tip, and slowly and slowly, you took the whole cock inside your mouth. It almost choked you because it was your first time giving someone a Head.

And it was not just someone.

It was your boyfriend, Chris.

He groaned and let out a satisfied moan.

“Yes angel”

His fingers ran through your hair, stroking them as you nodded. Your mouth was full of his cock, and you looked so cute like that!

You moved your tongue slowly sending a shiver through his spine. His cock was wet by your saliva as your tongue licked his length and then you moved to suck down his cock.

“So good baby”

“I can't believe that you are this talented”

“Oof angel I love you and you look So pretty with my cock inside Your mouth”

He gave you praises and his groans were softened up because he didn't want the audience to hear you.

Your mouth was making him see the stars. He could feel him grow sensitive shit. He was this close. He didn't want to end up in your mouth. It was embarrassing since he had never come before so fast but now he was climaxing so fast inside your mouth.

He was feeling nervous more than you know because your pace was going fast now he could hear the filthy sound you were making from your tongue while sucking him off.

He tried to move you away because it was embarrassing to finish off Inside your mouth or at your face.

“Move baby I am close fuck!!”

You were stubborn and you gave him a last suction before you could move away, his cum shooting at your face covering your lips and nose with his white liquid.

“Baby I am so sorry”

Hrs grabbed the towel to wipe the cum from your face but you grabbed His hand to stop him.

“What?”

“I want it and I want this inside me”

You kissed his cock and laid him down on the couch before positioning yourself to insert his cock inside you.

“Angel Is needy hmm?” He chuckled and you nodded with your lusty eyes.

…………..

Felix

The relationship between you and Felix was wrong.

It was a stepbrother and step-sister trope between you.

Your parents recently started dating, and you guys were introduced to each other, but the problem was that you were attracted to your soon-to-be step brother Since he was also angelic.

His face was like an angel. It felt like he was carved by God himself. The way his freckles adored his face, the stars, and the glow around his eyes. He was a beauty, and not only his beauty, he was a sweetheart by nature.

It was 2:45 am, and you could not sleep. You continued to roll around your bed again and again. Felix was sleeping by your side, and you could not control how beautiful he looked.

“Angel, I am Sorry I am doing this”, he cursed as he removed all of your clothes. You could not process what was happening as the clothes you were wearing were shoved down somewhere on the floor.

His blonde hair fell onto your shoulders as He was finally inside you.

“I will move slowly, hmm?” Felix asked, and you hugged him, pulling him closer to you.

You bit your lips as the light illuminated you. The 2 AM sounds were relaxing. Many thoughts rushed through your mind as the pressure began building inside your body. The still purple lights fell onto your eyes. Felix pressed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Shall I move princess?” He asked as he slowly grabbed your thighs, leaving Some marks on them, and slowly and slowly, the pace started moving. You could feel the friction between your hips and his cock.

It was a slow and gentle trickle of sweat, glistening on the skin like small droplets of drain, his dark brown eyes sparkled as you could feel a different sense of love around you and him.

“Felix ah”, you cried and hugged him tighter. Your pussy was clenching him well.

It felt like You were made for him. He groaned, his voice crying against your ears. He left the small hickeys on your neck and chest area.

“Angel, You are so good” You smiled at his words.

He was hitting the spots where you wanted him to. The light was dim as you Continued to bounce on his cock. The groans and the messy moans spread around the room, the white bedsheets filled with your cums and sweat as you continued to fuck each other in different positions.

From doggy to cowgirl, he has stretched you well. Your cunt was still taking his Cock so well, so deep.

“Ahh, last time, I promise, sweetie. I know you can cum for me, hmm?”

“Ngh ngh’ you blinked. Your eyes were too tired to move now that you were hooded. As he pushed his cock once more against your cunt From behind and his left hand playing with your nipples and the other hand holding your hair.

“I am cumming, lix”, you cried out as you felt yourself, realising The wet hot white liquid once again on The sheets.

Felix pulled out this time as he was also close. He kissed your lips. Your hands kissed his Cock and jerked it till he finally spilled his cum on you.

“I love you angel this Pussy was made for me” he leaned down a bit and placed soft kisses on your clit.

You blushed and laid down on the pillow as he played with your clit leaving kisses or pinching it.

You were relaxed.

And Felix was elated.

Seungmin

Your eyes were rolled up. The lingerie that you wore was resting on the floor all stripped down from your body when you were busy walking or doing a runaway for your boyfriend while he was sitting on the couch.

Seungmin was hard after he saw the new Victoria's Secret lingerie that you brought specially for him but the poor lingerie was now stripped down somewhere.

Seungmin clenched your hair from behind ‘take it up you are a good pup for me aren't you?” your head was softly laid down on the pillow he was hitting your sweet spot from behind the grip on your ass leaving his nails marks on your skin.

“So sweet this pussy takes me so well huh”

“Who could have that you are such a messy whore” the drool on your lips leaked onto the pillow. He was being harsh on you whenever you disobeyed seungmin. He would punish you this way.

“Fuck fuck it's too much baby” you whimpered the laid back eyes your ass jiggling in the smooth motion. He slapped your clit as he kissed your shoulder leaving Some bites on it.

“Too much min” you once again cried out it was too much for you can't handle the pleasure or the punishment he was giving to you.

He slapped your ass a red mark on it “this ass was made to satisfy me”

“Tell me whore this cunt is mine!?” HE gripped your hair harshly and you nodded weakly.

It was the close moment where your legs gave up and shook as you cum the white liquid dripping from your hole and he smiled licking the cum from your pussy.

“This pussy is mine”

He slapped it before going to eating your pussy once again.

[vershautece]

i just know lu would make sooo many dirty jokes while ur supposed to be having a sweet moment cuddling or something lol

you’d be leaning against his chest on the sofa watching TV, talking about anything. ‘what do you want for dinner tonight, do you want me to make it?’ he asks you. ‘we can just get Thai takeout if you want, get a bunch of stuff and share it between us?’ ‘yeah, we’ll do that, pull up the menu on your phone’ and then he whispers in your ear ‘your tits look so good in this top baby’ as he grips them in his big hands and u fall back further into his chest at the feeling and giggle: ‘luigi, mm’ and then his hands are softly caressing your torso up and down, continuing to talk like normal as if he didn’t just grab your tits out of nowhere and make ur panties damp

or you’ll be eating a banana or something that shape lolll and he’s sat there smirking at u, he’d say something that would nearly make u choke on your food: ‘not as good as my cock, no?’ - ‘luigi, shut up just let me eat this’

imagine lu with an academic gf who’s doing her phd and he’d make soooo many jokes - he keeps saying ‘u already have a phd, u get it for free inside you every night in this bed’

in the shower too :’) you’d have so many sweet, cosy showers just washing each other bc i think he’d love to shower with u as much as possible, and i can imagine him just making little comments: ‘i can see you staring at my cock baby’ he’d tease. ‘you had it in your mouth just last night, you want it again huh?’ ‘lu, shut up i swear, i need to get to work i can’t do this right now’ u roll your eyes playfully, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist as u wrap yours around his neck, the two of you pressing soft kisses to each other’s neck and shoulders

cuddling completely entangled together and kissing each other’s faces softly during conversation - you’re discussing something about the night before. ‘lu i swear i told you about this literally last night, how do you not remember’ - ‘i don’t think you did baby there wasn’t much time you spent last night without my cock in your mouth’ - you gasp, taken aback looking at him, and you both start laughing. ‘baby, you’re ridiculous’ u giggle into his neck. ‘just telling the truth, bellissima’ he chuckles, and his deep voice dropping that word in italian on u so casually like that sends a rush of heat to your core that u have to ignore bc you’re so exhausted and just wanna lay in his arms

& imagine you’re spooning just talking about ur day and suddenly he just bucks his hips up into you and starts fake fucking you through your clothes, laughing as he does. u reach your arm back to push him back playfully: ‘luigi oh my god why do you always do that out of nowhere, stop it’ ur giggling as he pulls u tighter to him and peppers kisses along the side of your neck

i just think he’d fake fuck u so much because he’s so cocky w the phd jokes and size kink😖 even feeling him soft against u would turn u on so much bc he’s so big

and don’t get me started with how often he’d be smacking ur ass and grabbing it. he’d smack ur ass lightly out of nowhere and then knead it in his big hands >.< like while ur cleaning your room or making food he’ll come up behind u

and when ur sitting on his lap so comfy, turned to the side a lil because you’re tucked into his chest so your ass is facing upwards slightly and he has room to give it a light smack and just grab and knead it while u giggle and bury your head in his neck

also in bed if ur sleeping position is cuddling facing each other and u have one leg hooked over his thigh he’ll like hold u by your ass and gently squeeze it every so often. ‘mm, lu, you’re gonna make me horny, i need to go to sleep’ - ‘alright, baby, i just love touching on you’ he laughs softly, giving your ass another tight squeeze and a smack before moving his hand up to grip your waist. ‘love you baby, you can fuck me in the morning’ you whisper to him

[jensthwa]

mountebank chem pt. four (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x afab!rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 24.1k.

WARNINGS & TAGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, dual pov (both yunho's and reader's), use of fem pronouns sometimes, angsty angst that angsts in the form a verbal fight, tears, unresolved feelings and denial, tension, a heartfelt conversations with bro and lots of yearning!, a time jump (three months or so), mingi and love being unhelpful but helpful at the same time, yeosang being a cutie pie and a little bit of his story gets mentioned!, the L word, confessions, apologies, mentions of body dysmorphia and body related insecurities, soft!dom yunho (he's a little bossy), switch!reader (oc hates to let him win i guess), reader has breasts and a vagina, mirror play, teasing, light choking, messy kisses and makeouts, masturbation (f), just the tiniest bit of voyeurism, praise kink if you squint oh my god, fingering, multiple orgasms, love making (who else cried), the post-sex convo and more feelings and dreams are discussed.

NOTES: hi everyone! WE MADE IT!!!!! here's part four of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH. after this, there's an epilogue/little part five to let everyone know sort of what happens after this + to set up the next story in the universe. i also just want to adress that one of you kindly suggested to change up some of the terminology i use in the warnings and for some other things in the fic itself and i thank that person a lot! but i also want to encourage you, if you feel something's missing or if i can do anything to be more inclusive in my stories, to let me know! i hope you all enjoy it part four of mbc, we've come a looong way and i'm happy on how this turned out. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: february 2nd 2025.

taglist: @kyunlov, @tinyelfperson, @0115degrees, @daniela-f-uwu, @ultrapinkvoidbouquet, @kyeomooniee, @fairylover68, @sushiinmidnight, @qveenbunni, @calmoistorm, @potatomountain, @svintsandghosts, @lemonkait00, @blue5ummer, @fancypeacepersona, @hyukssunflower, @i-love-ateez, @alsomimi, @e3ellie, @st3ft0n3s, @hotteokkay, @xylatox

masterlist - part one - part two. part three.

You dream about him. Every night. 

His mouth on yours and his hands handling you with care fill the gray matter of your brain and rots it. It fits you. 

A rotten brain for a rotten person. 

The scenario repeats in a loop in your head even when you're awake, alone in your house office, accompanied by staff at the main office building. It doesn't really matter what you're doing, who you're with or if the task at hand requires your full attention, Yunho still invades your mind and makes you feel like you're leaping, flying through skies and then falling, falling, falling, before hitting the ground hard. 

Because at the end of the memory, it plays what you did. 

The way you pulled away, the way you left him there without a proper explanation. 

You didn't have dinner with your brother, it was over nine o'clock at night. You needed an escape goat, a plan, an excuse to flee from the happiness you grasped with your sticky, messy, disgusting fingers. 

Everything you touch seems to turn to shit. 

So you can't touch Jeong Yunho even if you want to. 

You shan't, you won’t, even when he’s so close to you it takes a lot for you to hold back. He’s a message away, a meeting away from you. And his messages on your phone kept piling up this week until they didn’t. 

And now, as you watch him enter the meeting in a suit and tie, you do your best to pretend nothing happened between you even though it's supposed to. To everyone else's eyes, you’re still a couple. 

You’re grateful for that. You don’t sit together, you can’t sit together. Of course you can't, that would be very unprofessional. You can't voice your opinion about any decisions made by his team (or rather, his brother's team) today because that would look like you're doing it to either spite him or to be on your boyfriend's side, it would look like corruption! 

God bless the stupid societal and corporate norms. You won't even have to speak to him today, if you're lucky. You know he's shadowing his brother today, learning his way through these meetings you've been attending for years or at least pretending to do so.

There's absolutely no reason to speak to him today. 

Yay. 

Soohyun sits at your left, at the head of the table, and Yunho sits with his brother at Soohyun’s left. Neither your father or his are here today so everyone’s shoulders are a little less tense and the meeting is a quarterly one, which means people are going to be explaining graphics and reading numbers you have to stay focused on. 

There's things you have to write down, there's statements you have to whisper in your brother's ear so he can say them out loud instead of you. 

But Yunho looks way too good in his suit and tie and it's a little distracting. 

And he's looking right at you, too. 

You can hear your co-workers immediately gossiping about it, you can see your brother turn to you, then to him, then to you and you can faintly see how he raises a brow. Faintly, because you're pretending to read over some papers in front of you by the time he bumps your leg to try and catch your attention. 

You step on his foot under the table, he mutters an offended ouch and pinches your arm in retaliation, which causes you to stop pretending to eye the documents and turn to him. 

“Stop it.” 

“You started it,” he says and then Soohyun gives you that look that lets you know he knows something you don't, although it can possibly be like that because he's a clueless little shit. “Did something happen between yo—” 

Well, maybe not as clueless. Good thing you wore great heels today, the face he makes as he's trying to pretend that the sharp end of your Louis Vuitton is not stabbing him in the leg feels like a victory. 

“Keep quiet, the meeting is starting.” 

Oh, how you love winning. 

The thing is, you can't even enjoy it now. Yunho’s face pops up on your mind again and it serves as a reminder of just how close he is. 

As someone from the sales team starts their presentation, your eyes drift to Yunho in a way that feels oddly familiar. 

There, trying to stay upright even though you know he's zoning everything out, there's this memory from your junior year in highschool that never tortured you the way it does now. 

Although he's always been very tall, Yunho used to sit near the window, in the second row of the classroom you both shared that year. Not his decision, certainly whoever made that decision was not the sharpest tool on the shed because all he did was look out of the window and close his eyes when the teachers were not paying enough attention to him. 

And you used to stare at him just like you're doing now. Through the corner of your eye, with your back straightened and ninety percent of your attention on the topic at hand. He held the other ten percent, tenderly, softly, without realizing what he was doing. 

Just like he held you that night. 

At the time, you wondered what went on in his head every time he drifted away from the class. New ways of making your life impossible? A new insult to your integrity, maybe? Highschool Yunho was everyone's dream but, for you, he meant nothing but nightmares and headaches. 

Nothing has changed much. 

But instead of wondering if he's thinking about new ways of pestering you with his presence, now your heart races at the possibility of him thinking about the kisses you two shared last week. 

You hope no one notices the sudden shift on the chair or the gulp you make to keep your emotions buried deep down inside of you, where no one can reach them. 

Trying to regain focus and ignore Yunho completely, you look at the projected graphics in front of you. The person doing the presentation turns to the next slide as soon as you're beginning to understand what the hell they're talking about. Surprisingly, your brother turns to whisper at you about it. 

“The new company sales are lower than expected.” 

When you turn fully to him, you can see he's biting his cheek in concerned concentration. You want to roll your eyes. 

“I told dad no one would care about this company and you were the one who approved for us to go forward with it.” 

“I know.” 

“Dumbass,” you whisper, scrunching your nose and turning to the presentation again but your brother nudges you slightly and you have to look at him again. 

Only for your eyes to completely bypass him and land in Yunho. 

God fucking damnit.

Is this what having a crush is like? Is tortuous and you hate this even more than when you couldn't stand seeing his face out of pure annoyance. 

This is why you probably never had a crush on anyone before. But it's strange, because it doesn't feel like something new. Yes, Yunho attending meetings is new but the feeling is familiar and grossly nostalgic of something you feel like you left behind.

And now has come back in full force. 

You never had a crush on Yunho, at least not that you know of. 

But this feeling is telling you otherwise and it's maddening and disgusting and— 

“Something definitely happened, hm?” 

Eyes flicking over your brother's sudden concerned expression, you push back on the seat and sink in it a little. This way, when you look up to him, Yunho is nowhere in sight. When you speak again, you make sure only Soohyun hears you. 

“We can save it, don't worry about it. I'll write up a proposal of how we can market the concept of the company in a way that it at least piques people's interest.” 

Your brother huffs, unsatisfied with your deflection and the way you visibly close up at the mere thought of telling him if something did happen between you and Yunho. 

But he says nothing. It stings that you know he's going to leave it at that, the support you're supposed to have slipping through your fingers as you do your best to keep your feelings to yourself. It's not his fault, not really. 

He doesn't know any better. 

You don't know any better, either. 

But your focus on the meeting comes back and you end it with thirteen pages of virtual notes and a list of things you need to do today to keep this shitshow of a company afloat. 

There's a split second when you get out of the room that you feel Yunho’s eyes on you. You're afraid he's going to take the opportunity to talk to you, so you look up and around trying to find something, someone you can use as a distraction, as a shield. 

But then there's like four pairs of hands dragging him away and you see that annoyed glint in his eye, usually reserved for you, as they turn him around and away from you. 

Yes, of course they wouldn't let him speak to you right now. He's shadowing his brother, he has important things to do! 

Yay. 

You ignore the beating of your heart as you move quickly through the halls. Soohyun and Gunho are already aiming for the elevator so you opt for the stairs, knowing you won't have to speak to anyone at all if you get to your office like this. 

Well, Soohyun's office. You have yours on a lower floor, not as unnecessary space-taking as his, but you usually work there because you enjoy the view. 

So when you finally close the door behind you and the view is blocked by thirty piled up boxes you start thinking that the universe is upset with you. Is this your karma? Everything and everyone against you just because you walked out of a kiss before making a mistake? 

Is not like Yunho cares that much about you anyway!

Huffing, you look around the room until your eyes land on that stupid tree you started painting when Soohyun told you he wanted to redecorate his office. Its branches extend just a little more than what you remember and there’s a part of it that was unfinished the last time you saw it. You can only assume either Seonghwa or your brother had something to do with it.

Which sucks. 

Because you’re so painting over the stupid tree one day. 

You stare at it while your mind wanders. Head slowly filling up with noise, you finally feel at ease when your thoughts are nothing but work: You need to write up a proposal to that stupid vintage-esque focused company to see if there’s some salvation for it. You need to speak with marketing, get one of them to go along the process with you. You need to sit down with your brother and kindly tell him to never allow something like this to ever happen again. 

Making a mental list to organize and prioritize everything you need to do, you barely register footsteps echoing in the long hall. You should’ve, because it’s lunchtime and there’s no one on the floor, but you don’t. 

And so when the person you least want to see comes through the door and lets out a heavy sigh, you turn to him like he grew a second nose over the course of the twenty minutes you last saw each other. 

“I hate it here, I truly do.” 

It almost makes you want to laugh, but you remain stoic as you move through the office. You take a few boxes and you put them down on the floor until there’s some light leaking through the window and illuminating the space enough for it not to give you a headache as you work. 

Sitting on your brother's chair, barely sparing him another glance before turning on the desk computer and pulling up an empty document. You click and tap a few meaningless things: You pick the font, you mess with the font size for a second before setting it back to its default. Anything to help you look busy and not like your heart is going a million miles per second. 

“Can I help you with anything, Yunho?” 

Blurry, in the background, you can see him look around the office, probably taking the mess in. He moves too, walks until his expensive shoes are tip to tip  with a literal mannequin resting against the wall. 

You stop paying attention as you write the date and the proposal title. Something simple, something that both your father and the CEO of the dumb not-approved-by-you company that has you in this predicament can understand. You hate to say that you assume they’re not very smart if they put out such a dated and non profitable idea for their company. 

Still, you try to address Yunho like nothing’s bothering you and like you’re not nervous you two are in a room alone after everything that went down. 

“You can ask Seonghwa what that means,” you start, sighing like his friend and your brother are hopeless. Because maybe that’s what they are. “They’re not running any ideas by me even though I’m the one that spends the most time in this office, so.” 

“Hm,” he starts and you can hear him walking around, but your focus is now on the first few words of the proposal. You realize there’s really nothing you can start before speaking with marketing and so you open the notes app, to have a list of ideas to run through them at least. “Thought you worked from home.” 

“I do. I have an office three floors down, too.” It’s easy sharing information with him now, especially if it means there’s something to talk about that’s not… Well, the kiss. “I hate it, it’s in a corner and people can see into it. It’s easier to work here.” 

“And Soohyun hyung doesn’t mind?”

“Considering he’s never here, I doubt it.” 

“Cool, cool.” 

There’s something in his tone that makes you want to look up, lump in your throat growing in size enough for you to cough it away. You don’t look up, you can’t look up even if you’ve misspelled the word rebrand like four times already. 

But then the light you managed to cast onto the space disappears completely. You feel something besides you, the soft material of an expensive suit blazer grazing your arm and cheek. You see veiny, masculine hands secure themselves around the arms of the chair before he’s turning you to face him. 

You gulp. 

He’s leaning down close, closer than he should be, closer than what he’s allowed to be considering anyone can walk in on you. You’re flushing, you can feel the redness creep up your neck and heating your ears and face before you gather the courage of raising a questioning brow. Yunho stays silent, his eyes scanning your face and briefly landing on your lips before returning your stare. 

“Can I help you with anything, Yunho?” You ask him again, quieter this time, voice trembling a little. 

“Princess,” he starts, the corner of his lip raising just a little, like it’s funny he has to say what he’s about to say, “are you ghosting me?” 

Shit. 

“Why would you— Why would I—,” a nervous chuckle abandons you and then you huff, trying to seem offended at his accusation, “W-what do you mean by that?” 

Leaning into your space a tiny bit more, he repeats “Are you ghosting me?” 

Creasing your brow, you straighten in the chair but do nothing to pull him away “No.”

“Then what about the ten messages I sent you and you left on delivered?” 

Faking a surprised gasp, you move to take your phone out of the pocket of your jacket and unlock it to swipe through your messages “You did? Oh, my God, I’ve been soooo busy.” 

“You’re shit at lying to me.” 

“I’m not lying to you—” 

“Are you okay?” 

Your eyes snap from the phone to his face, genuine annoyance creasing your eyebrows this time. 

“You don’t have to ask me that everytime you see me, Jeong.” 

“But are you?” He asks as you finally find his chat and open the messages you dreaded to see the entire time that passed. There’s a few of them practically begging you to speak to him, one apologizing for the kiss and the other ones you don’t even see because Yunho is taking the phone from your hand and placing it on the desk next to you. “I mean, what happened didn’t trigger anyth—” 

You hate he’s this considerate with you, even after you clearly walked out of the situation with a poorly formulated excuse.

“What happened was a mistake.” 

Yunho physically deflates and lets the chair go, the tension on your shoulders lifting a little now that he’s not as close. 

“What?” 

“It was a mistake, we shouldn’t have done that. We’re professionally obligated to work together, fake all of this together, so it shouldn’t…” You pause and consider for a bit before doing something you never do: take the blame “I shouldn’t have. I apologize.” 

Letting out a breath, you turn the chair and delete the misspelled rebrand to write it the correct way, heart too weak to even look at his reaction. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re never doing anything like it again. 

You hear him shuffle with the boxes at both your feet and, from the corner of your eye, you see him turning away from you and then back, hands on his hips “I don't think it was a mistake.” 

“Well, it was.” 

“I liked it.” 

That brings out a genuine, short lived laugh out of you “Thank you, I’m a great kisser.” 

You open your brother’s email and pretend there’s an urgent matter inside the contents of one of them until Yunho’s hand closes over yours, over the mouse. 

“Y/N.” 

There’s a lot of things about Jeong Yunho you hate: The swoop of his hair when there’s no gel on it, the free aspect to his nature you’re never going to get even if you try to, that one time he called you an ugly giant after wearing platforms for the first time ever. 

And the sweetness of his voice when he says your name, the plea you hear on it and the shudder it brings to your spirit. It shakes you, it moves you to look at him again, to actually take his feelings into consideration. 

He’s staring at you with so much hurt, it makes your heart sink into an abyss of guilt. 

“Hm?” 

“I think I like you.” 

Oh. 

Oh, no. 

Your heart drowns deeper, your resentment towards the situation grows branches like the tree on the wall. They hug your pride and your ego, they poke you on your side for reciprocating Yunho’s feelings just a little. 

Well, a lot.

“You think?” You ask him and your voice sounds far away. He nods. You stand up from the chair, hand squeezing his before letting drop. “Stop thinking then.” 

His eyes closing shut and his jaw tensing is the last thing you see before you busy yourself with the boxes against the window. You pick up two at a time, heavy and the cardboard smelly as you walk to the other side of the office, away from him. 

“I’m being serious, Y/N.” 

You sigh “So am I, Yunho. You don’t like me, you liked that I kissed you.” 

“Oh, I forgot you know exactly what goes through my mind and my heart, thank you for the remainder!” 

Looking at him over your shoulder, you drop the boxes against the corner wall “Lower. Your. Voice.” 

“No, no. Because that’s not an appropriate response to what I just told you!” He walks towards you and you meet him halfway, heart beating with annoyance at the way he’s speaking to you. He towers over you again, jaw clenched and voice a mere murmur when he speaks again “You have no say in what I feel, how I feel it, when I feel it.” 

“I know I don’t, you idiot. I was just providing you with a bit of perspective.” 

“Perspective?”

“What do you like about me?” Chin up and nose scrunched in a way it only does when you’re really angry, you insist “Why now? Why do you suddenly care? Is it out of pity? Is it because it’s convenient, because we’re already pretending? Is it because you want to fuck me?!”

“Watch it, Y/N.” His tone is laced with clear offense at what you offered just a second ago. 

“You don’t like me,” you start, shaking your head, “you can’t like me.” 

“Why not?!” 

He’s breathing hard, walking backwards, offering up his palms to the sky and looking around the room like any of that is going to give him an answer to his questions. 

“Why not?” He repeats and there’s that hurt in his voice that, for some reason, makes your eyes water. Are you having a panic attack? A heart attack? Everything hurts. Liking Yunho hurts, wanting him hurts. He comes back, his eyes searching yours even though you can’t do anything but cast them down, to your shoes and his shoes and the boxes and the carpet “Why can’t I like you, princess? What’s not to like? What kind of self-deprecating ideas do 

you have in your head that makes you think I can’t care about you like that?”

Shaking your head again and closing your eyes, you are barely able to stifle a sob and force your tears back. You want to tell him that that’s not the reason but you would be lying to him if you did. 

That’s part of the reason. 

Behind the whole letting your mother’s win argument, there’s an undeniable amount of self hatred that can’t let you feel like there’s any truth behind his words. 

Why would he like you? Why would he care about you? 

Your hands are dirty and sticky and your being is way too clumsy, so everything you love drops and breaks and turns to dust before your eyes. The fact that there’s this whole fake relationship deal in the middle of it and you can place the blame on your mothers is a blessing in disguise. 

It’s a weapon you can use. 

Even if you don’t want to: His hands are cradling your face, his forehead dropping against yours and drawing a surprised gasp out of you because you didn’t even feel him get him close. 

“I like you, I care about you,” there’s certainty in his tone, like he made up his mind, like he’s confirming his feelings to both you and himself, “I… I—” He takes a breath when you open your eyes and beg him to not say what you think he’s about to say. He takes the hint. “Do you not like me back, Y/N? Are you trying to… Is that what’s happening?” 

You say nothing, but swallow back your feelings and brace yourself on his forearms, nose budging his as you move a little. 

He reads your silence wrong “Y-you do?” 

You think it matters if you do or not. Your heart is already breaking by the time the words are on the tip of your tongue. 

“We can’t,” you whisper to him, letting your tears wet your cheeks and squeezing his forearms when his thumbs start to move in trying to dry them, shaking your head to signal him to stop. As your eyes catch his, you prepare yourself for the gentleness you’re about to lose, with the care you’re about to push away for his own good. “Because if we do, they win.” 

You didn’t know your heart could break this way, as you watch his expression morph from confusion to pain to utter, genuine anger. It’s the same face he made last week, in your living room, as he yelled at his mother for even daring suggesting that you two should be together. 

There’s a time when hurting Yunho brought you some sense of vengeance, a time where you considered it payback for being that person literally planned and made for you. 

Now, you want to hit your head against the wall for even daring filling his eyes with tears, for being the reason frustration descends and wets his shoes as he looks down. 

“Oh.” 

He lets you go and you miss it. You immediately want to take your words back, push him closer to you, hug him, kiss him, whatever it may be to keep him next to you.

You start to mourn the loss of the bond you were able to form with him right away. 

And it hurts. 

He nods again. And it hurts. “Oh, that’s what this is about.” 

It fucking hurts. When he laughs, hands on his face as he wipes his tears away, you feel like you’re going to pass out. 

“And you don’t care about me enough to tell them to go fuck themselves.” He says, a resentful statement that leaves his lips before a breathy laugh does. 

Opening your mouth, you attempt to contradict his words. That’s not true at all, he has to understand, he understands you, he— He raises his hand to stop you from speaking, he shakes his head like he doesn’t want to hear it. 

Like your excuses, even if he hasn't listened to them at all, are not worth his time. 

“I get it.” No, you don’t. “I understand.” No, you really don’t. 

But you say nothing. As he’s slipping through your fingers like sand, at your own doing, you just stare at him with sorrowful eyes and an apology on your teeth. 

He looks at you like he’s expecting you to stop him as he reaches the door. You want to, you really do. 

You don’t. 

“Thanks for letting me know.”

When the door closes behind him and leaves you alone in an office that’s not really yours, feeling like you’re not yourself, you finally allow the reality of what you just did to hit you. 

Hand shaking, you cover your mouth and let out a sob as you let yourself cry what you just lost. But, as you do, you remind yourself that you don’t really deserve Yunho’s care. 

You don’t really deserve his love. 

Hurting him is probably the easiest way out he has of whatever he thinks he’s feeling for you. 

Walking slowly to the desk, you wipe your tears away and nod to yourself. Yes, this is exactly what needed to happen. Good. Yes. What were you doing before he came in? 

You grab the mouse. 

Ah, the proposal. Of course. 

The noise comes back, louder this time. Unbearable and ear-piercing, it forces you to close your eyes and listen to the beat of your heart before you push the sound away. You can’t afford to crash right now.

You skim through your tasks in your mind and, as you do, the reminder of a little notification you saw on your calendar this morning, with Yunho’s name on it, is what finally lets the panic break through your senses. 

“No.” 

And you spend the rest of the afternoon typing your escape plan away. 

By the time your brother remembers he has an office, it’s dark outside and the proposal is

printed and in a folder placed neatly in the middle of his desk. 

He closes the door, raising an eyebrow at the way you’re resting your shoulder against the window behind his chair, the boxes blocking them all piled up in the corner you initially started moving them to this afternoon. 

“You’re still here.” He muses and you turn to him, scoffing at the obvious. 

“Well, somebody has to work.” 

“I was working,” he sounds a little bit offended, but when he passes in front of you and pulls back his chair to sit on it, you faintly smell whisky and cigarettes. “I was at a meeting in the gentlemen's club with Gunho.” 

“That’s hardly working, Soohyun.” 

Looking over his shoulder, he’s face to face with your unimpressed expression. Of course he went to the stupid club with Gunho, of course he didn’t do shit today. 

“Let me remind you that I am, in fact, older than you.” 

“And?”

“I deserve respect and zero questioning.” 

You hum, slightly amused this time. You know he’s goofing around, you know he’s hardly mad at the implication that you do all the work he’s supposed to do plus yours but there’s this slight worry in his face that’s unusual.  

“Is Gunho oppa okay?” 

Your brother frowns “Of course he is.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m— Why are you asking?” 

Shrugging, you turn away from him to look at the city through the window again. You can see the river and the buildings that encapsulate it perfectly and it brings you a strange sense of comfort everytime you zone out and just people watch those who feel free enough to walk along the bridge at this hour, with the cold and the rain and the mess that the leaves leave behind as they fall. 

“You look distraught.” 

“Well, you’ve been crying, of course I am.” 

Interesting. You didn’t think he could tell, which means your face is puffy and you look ugly. Great. 

“The mess in this office made me tear up when I got in this afternoon,” you say, swerving around the accusation with ease because there’s no way in hell you’re telling your brother what’s up with you. “I’m going to need your help when it comes to explaining that to dad.” And then you use your chin to point to the proposal sitting in front of him. 

“You didn’t have to do this today, I know sales are low but-” 

“Oh, that’s not it. That one is sitting on your email. This—” you take two steps, tap the front of the folder with your nails, “is a new thing. A thing he won’t understand nor approve unless you understand it and approve it.” 

And then you move back to your position by the window, staring at the lights and the buildings one more time without explaining anything else. When you hear the flick of the pages being turned, you know he understands how serious you’re about it. No space for debating, no time for complaining: you need him to get it done now, and so he will. 

Because your brother can be a lot of things but he’s not dumb. 

And he can read a room like no other except maybe you. 

Seconds turn into minutes and then the clock ticks and blends together as you wait, shoulder hurting by the time your brother lets out a heavy sigh. 

“No, I won’t approve this.” 

Definitely not what you wanted to hear. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You want to—” 

Defensiveness floats you, over-stimulates your senses and makes you see red at the rejection of your proposal “I want to expand our market, our clientele, our opportunities to keep this company on top. Can you relate?” 

“Y/N…” He scowls at your attack, at your tone “You’re running.” 

“I’m doing something for the company!” 

You think your roar is heard all the way to the first floor. Soohyun stares at you wide-eyed, mouth agape for a second before he closes it again. He has to fix his tie, his suit ironed for once as he takes the jacket off and discards it against the chair. 

Brat, princess, annoying little sister. You know that’s what he calls you, he has called you that ever since you were a child and in the most endearing way possible. You have yelled at him before, you have stomped your foot and cried and moaned until you got your way, until he agreed to let you do something. 

You have never screamed at him like this before, though. 

It shows in the way your chest rises and falls quickly, in the way he has to take a calming breath to not yell back at you. Your eyes are full with tears when he looks up and the crease of his brow disappears because, even though you both could be closer and understand each other better, he still is your brother. 

Your brother, who loves you and cares about you in his own way. 

It proves more difficult to let him see the real you, more difficult than what it felt with Yunho or with anyone else. 

So when the tears fall down your cheeks, you wipe them away quickly and pretend they were never there. 

“I don’t know what the hell happened,” he starts, calm, taking a step into your direction and raising his hand and you recoil a bit out of habit. He hesitates for a few seconds but then he’s squeezing your shoulder and pulling you into a tight hug that feels unfamiliar, unusual and weird until it doesn’t. You melt into the embrace because you need it, because it allows you to let go of your frustration and cry it out on your brother’s chest, “but you’re going to explain it to me whether you like it or not. And only then, I will consider saying yes to your proposal.” 

When you pull away to look at him, it’s with a pout and a scowl that draws a breathy laugh out of him. 

“Stupid.” He pushes you away a little before pulling you back in for a hug, “Always keeping things to yourself instead of letting me take the weight of it all. Stupid.” 

It takes a few minutes, but when the hug doesn’t seem necessary and your usual disgust for physical touch comes back into your system, he allows you to take two steps back and clean your face with the back of your hand. 

“Haven’t seen you cry since you were a child,” he whispers and you shrug, ignoring the fact that your heart stings at the comment. “What happened?” 

You tell him everything that night. 

Yunho hasn’t seen you in three months. 

Which, at first, came as relief. He didn’t want to see your face ever again after the things you confirmed to him back in your brother's office. Who needed you, right? He told himself his mother loved enough to understand the sudden change of heart, although she doesn’t exactly know what happened between you in the first place. 

Maybe he should’ve been honest when he got the chance, back in your house, the afternoon they told you both about the pr relationship. 

He was so close to telling the truth, too, when he walked out of the living room and into the hallway to clear his head and not scream at his mother in front of yours. It was there, at the tip of his tongue, and then his mother appeared in front of him with that spark behind her eye that could only mean one thing: it didn’t matter what the truth was, he was going to do this even if it killed him inside. 

Her words the next second confirmed it and he wondered right then if his freedom was worth the suffering:

“Either you do this or I’ll make sure you’re never able to dance again, Jeong Yunho. No more public university, no more friends, no more staying at the dorm, just your father’s company,” and he was about to refuse, yet again, she raised her finger as a warning. “I mean it. Y/N is perfect to clear the company’s image but if we can’t use her then we’ll have to work twice as hard as we do now to clear it.” 

And Yunho would rather fake an entire life with you than work for the man who single handedly ruined his life the second he was born. He didn’t hate his father, he thought about him like a concept he would never understand even when he desperately tried to, but he would never become part of his company.

Not in the way his mom suggested, anyway. 

He just needed to get through college, pretend to be interested in the family business and then land a freelancer job elsewhere, in a foreign company maybe, one who didn’t seem a threat to his father’s and then move on his own when he had enough money saved. 

Independence. He needed independence. Strangely enough, he needed you to gain that independence even though you meant the exact opposite to him, in his head. 

So he doesn’t know why he yelled at you that afternoon. To take it all out, maybe? He thought he hated you back then, too.

He had already agreed to it in the hallway, to his mom. 

He had already agreed to it the second he was born. 

Which is crazy because that’s not a normal experience to have. And if you were born a boy or him a girl, none of this would’ve happened in the first place. You’d be friends, like Gunho and Soohyun, and maybe he’d be forced to be with someone that wasn’t shoved down his throat for so long. 

Imagine his surprise when he kissed you back that night in his dorm. No, scratch that, imagine his surprise when he started liking you the second you showed your true colors to him. 

You’re not perfect by any means, but neither is he and it only took you allowing him to enter a little bit into your mind, into your heart, into your soul, for him to fall for you hard. Or maybe he always liked you? His mind didn’t allow him to sleep at all when you left, but it didn’t allow him to go and follow you that same night either, so the conundrum continued to torture him until it didn’t. 

After the fight in the office, he went home and sat in his childhood bedroom for a while. He had dinner with his brother when he came home to look for some documents in his father’s home office and then he went back to his dorm and stared at the ceiling until Yeosang came back from wherever he’s been disappearing to these days. 

He pretended everything was fine under Yeosang’s scrutinizing gaze but his friend and roommate knew him so much it only took less than a week for his sudden mood to reach the ears of the rest of the friend group. 

Not so subtle messages started entering his phone. He answered all of them and then used the excuse of being on the app to check your chat in case you sent a message and it didn’t notify him for some reason. He told them everything was okay, that he was feeling a bit under the weather. 

And he managed to convince them until he checked his calendar one day (the one he shared with you) and realized all foreseeable events had been cancelled. You had another meeting where you two needed to coexist, a company dinner with both your team and Gunho’s team that he needed to go to as your plus one and, surprisingly enough, a paparazzi session scheduled by your mother that you needed to first prepare to and then do. 

All of this was explained to him by his PR assistant. It surprised him to see that many postponed and canceled the app. It angered him to assume you canceled everything just because you didn’t want to see him. 

He didn’t want to see you either, but he had to. Weren’t you the one who more than once scolded him for not being professional enough? 

Ha! 

It was his opportunity to tease you about it. And so, when he was told to go to your brother’s office the next day, he had this whole speech ready to go. He would tell you to stop being so dumb, that a kiss and his feelings is something that can be ignored. That he needed you both to forgive and forget. 

Yunho needs to continue his plan, even if his own heart breaks in the process. And as he got down the elevator and walked the hall to reach the office, his heart desperately asked him to reconsider. Because there, while pushing the door handle to enter the space he dreaded to be a week prior, Yunho realized he wanted to ask you to be his again. 

When he found nothing but Soohyun on his chair, his conviction deflated and his ego sank to the ground. 

“Yunho!” Your brother sprung out of his chair, excitingly rounding his desk until he reached for him. Arm around his shoulders, Yunho raised a brow at the sudden animosity. “Were you expecting someone else?” 

“N-no.”

“Right.” 

He knew Soohyun could call his bullshit from a mile away. But it didn’t matter, he was already sitting down in front of him in the new couches facing each other. He wanted to point it out, but Soohyun beat him to it. 

“Your friend Park Seonghwa has amazing taste.” 

“Ah,” he breathed out a laugh, a nervous chuckle that made him gasp for air a second after, “yeah. He, um, was top of his class before he graduated.”

“I can tell,” Soohyun nodded and looked around, scrunching his nose in a way that reminded Yunho of you. “Y/N is not going to be available for the next few months.”

What? 

“W-what?” 

“I know you came here looking for her and we’ve known each other since you were born, Yunho, I think we can skip the shitty formalities.” 

“Hyung…”

Soohyun shaked his head, laughing with a relaxed sincerity that is such a Soohyun thing to do “There’s never not been a moment in my life where my sister doesn’t surprise me. I know you know her and I know you two have grown… Closer since this whole PR thing started but I don’t think you can grasp the full Y/N effect until you live with her, you know?”

He didn’t. Not at all. 

“She crafted in four, maybe five hours a project that would’ve taken me at least a month to sit down and write,” he explained and Yunho swallowed thickly, the lump on his throat going down. “And she wanted to get it done as soon as she got the approval from dad. So, I hope you understand that she couldn’t exactly give you a notice before postponing and cancelling your shared schedule.” 

Ah. So you didn’t want to speak to him at all. He scoffed, annoyed. “So she asked you to tell me?” 

“Nope. In fact, I’m pretty sure she would kill me if she knew I’m meeting with you at all.” 

Yunho blinked, confused. 

“Oh.”

“But I love you like a brother, Yunho. You’re my family, you’re her family even though she hates it and I realized recently that the four of us need to stick together. If everything else goes to shit, we’ll still have us.” 

The four of you. Including him and Gunho. 

“And as a family, we owe each other honesty. We owe each other loyalty and forgiveness and understanding. You see where I’m going with this?” 

“No,” he admitted, frowning a bit. “What does any of that have to do with me and Y/N? We don’t like each other, I know you and Gunho noticed at some point. It’s the way things are supposed to be.” The words had a bitter taste, but he pushed through them. 

He sounded like you.

Soohyun let out a sigh and he got up from his seat to squeeze Yunho’s shoulder “She comes back in three months, Yunho. She’s doing something from the company but she has to come back, right?” 

Yunho shrugged, pretending the information didn’t spark something close to hope inside of him. 

“Understanding. That’s what we owe each other: Love and understanding… And lunch. Your brother actually owns me lunch, feel free to join us.” 

Your brother is the weirdest guy ever. However, he realized that as Soohyun walked out of the office and left him to consider his words, that he was already planning on telling you when you came back. 

He missed you already, too. 

And yet, he didn’t find the courage to tell you at all. It tormented him, greatly, vastly. It consumed him through his classes, his dance rehearsals, his performances. It tugged on his heart the days he had to go to the office and pretend he cared about the company, and through his hang outs with his friends. 

They asked about you all the time. He had to remind them you were on a business trip, he had to make up a story, he had to tell them the details were apparently confidential when he didn’t even know where you were.

He could’ve just called you. He could’ve just asked you. 

His finger over your contact on his phone while he sits in Wooyoung's room during a house party, in the dark. 

He could just ask you. 

He–

“Okay, what the fuck is going on with you?” 

He drops his phone, the light of the screen going out as it lands down on the bed. 

“Holy shit, Mingi!” 

 A light turns on and he squints his eyes at the sudden intrusion. 

“You scared the shit out of me!”

“I walked in here like five minutes ago,” his best friend deadpans and Yunho pouts like a child. “You know, I’m starting to feel like I don’t mean that much to you anymore.”

That offends him deeply and he scowls before tossing a pillow in his direction  “What the hell are you even saying?” 

“I’m a patient person, Yunho,” he catches the pillow and tosses it back, “and I’ve been waiting for you to tell me what's been going on for the last month and half but you keep saying everything’s fine.” 

“Because everything’s f—” 

“No, it’s not!” 

Mingi is tired, he can tell. He’s been holding his worries inside since the day he told everyone about his relationship with you and Yunho feels awful. This is that part of his life that’s hard to talk about. He only explained to Mingi about the dreadful desire that his father has of making him work for him around a year ago and he’s known Mingi for so long at this point that it does feel a little like he doesn’t trust him enough. 

But it’s hard and he has kept his feelings and desires buried for so long he thinks he might’ve accidentally dragged his feelings for you along with it and now they’re all mixed up and scratching the walls of their enclosure, begging to come out of him. 

“I’m not used to push people around to tell them about their feelings but you’re my best friend and—” 

“I kissed Y/N.” 

Mingi stops mid sentence, blinking a few times before moving to sit beside him on the bed. Yunho hopes, as he faintly hears the music outside of the room getting louder and Wooyoung screaming something that he can’t exactly make up, that Mingi doesn’t think he’s suddenly confessing his afflictions out of pressure. 

Instead, the words came out of his mouth like he couldn’t resist telling them in the first place. After keeping it to himself for weeks, nearly three months, it finally feels like breathing a little. 

“O… kay.” He says as a response and it’s Yunho’s turn to blink at him in disbelief, Mingi laughs a little. “So you kissed the girl you like. Isn’t that something to be happy about?” Yunho gapes at the insinuation of Mingi knowing he likes you, except, it doesn’t come as a surprise. His friends are very observant, to his absolute horror they can’t be fooled. “Did she reject you? Is that what’s going on?” 

“No! I mean, yes. We… She kissed me first!” He defends himself, taking a quick inhale before cursing softly under it. “And then I kissed her. And then we kissed and she left and she ghosted me for a little, actually. And then I saw her in her office, that's not actually her office but her brother’s, and I… I kind of confronted her? And then she rejected me.” 

By the time he finishes his rambles, Mingi looks amused and a little worried. 

“You have to be in this… Fake relationship with her and that’s tormenting you, then? Because she rejected you?” 

“No, that’s not… We’re not— I am, we are still in the fake relationship, it’s just that she’s gone.” 

“She died?!” 

“What? No! No, she’s,” Yunho closes his eyes, laughing at the assumption because he knows Mingi said it to get that exact response in return, “she’s not dead. She, um, she’s on that business trip.” 

“Oh, that’s right! You told us—”

“I lied.”

“What?” 

His poor best friend looks confused beyond belief and that guilt of not telling him everything creeps in once more, threatening to shut him up until he reminds himself Mingi is trustworthy and deserves some clarity. 

“She is on a business trip, I just don’t know why or how or where she is,” he finishes softly, his lips in a line and revealing just how uneasy that makes him feel. “I don’t know where she is and I think that she left because I— Well, when she rejected me we didn’t end up on the best of terms.”

“So you think it’s your fault.” Mingi finishes with a nod, letting out a sigh a second after. “Well, it’s not.” 

“It kind of is, though.” 

“Yunho, it’s not. She’s a grown up, if she decides to run away from her feelings instead of facing them she’s kind of a dumbass.” 

“Mingi!” Yunho’s pushing him a bit with his hand on his shoulder before he can help it. 

“She is!” Laughing, his best friend takes no offense at the push and instead pushes him back, teasingly. “Remember that one party you had at your place, when your parents were gone on that business trip with your brother?” 

“Oh, that party?” 

“Yeah, that party,” Mingi nods, looking away for a second, something shining in his face Yunho realizes he’s longing for. He wants that to shine on him, too: the security that being with the right person brings you. “Love tried to run away from an argument that night, too. I just didn’t let her.” 

“Are you calling your girlfriend a dumbass?” 

“Yeah,” and instead of saying it with a grudge, the confirmation comes out of a place filled with, well, love. “She was a dumbass back then, at least.” 

“Y/N is not like that at all,” Yunho says after a bit, “she’s not a dumbass for running away from this. Our thing… It’s kind of different. We’ve been put in this situation since we were kids and we hated, like actually hated each other for a while. We treated each other so badly, Mingi, you have no idea the way she gets under my goddamn skin sometimes,” and despite saying it like it’s a bad thing, he can’t help but smile. Mingi notices this, too. “You know I don’t have the best relationship with my parents, right? Well, hers is way worse.” 

“Wait, you told us that this relationship was something to clear your company’s image?” Mingi recalls and Yunho feels another pang of guilt against his ribcage. 

“It is! It totally is, it’s just… Well, she was born a girl and I was born a boy and our parents have a very, um, old-fashioned concept of love and what it’s supposed to look like. It was decided a long time ago that we were going to end up together.” 

There’s a few seconds of silence before Mingi bursts out laughing so hard it drowns the noise from outside the room. 

“That’s funny to you?” Yunho asks, light-hearted and smiling at the sound of his best friend's laugh. 

“No, no, it’s just… Your parents are forcing you two together for some weird legacy, bloodline reason and you fell for the girl you’re in a fake relationship with and you’re supposed to hate?” 

Now that he hears it like that…

“Basically, yeah.” 

“Oh, San’s girl is about to have a field trip with this information.”

“Dude!” 

“What? It’s dumb! Y/N is a dumbass, you’re dumber for not just calling her and telling her you miss her and you’re both really fucking dumb for not telling your parents to fuck off. You’re grown!” 

Yunho sighs, shaking his head. “She doesn’t like me like that, Mingi.”

“Yes, she does!” He laughs again, covering his mouth with his hand once he realizes Yunho is getting annoyed with it. “Yunho… Ugh, is this how you all felt those few months where I was crying over Love?” 

“I didn’t feel anything.” 

“Because you’re a puppy,” Mingi’s shoulder brushes against his in a not so subtle way of teasing him and his eyes blank in pretend annoyance. “You are. And you’re a pretty great guy, Yunho. If she doesn’t like you back it’s not the end of the world.” 

Yunho nods, but he’s suddenly not as convinced as he should be. 

“And you’re also one of the strongest people I know, in here.” Mingi’s finger taps over his heart on his chest. “But you don’t have to carry your burdens on your own. This is all… It all seems pretty dumb to me but it must be really hard on you, hm? Especially since you want to live a life separate from your family, right?” 

That, Mingi knows. “Mhm.”

“And so does Y/N?”

“No, I’m not so sure about that,” he murmurs back and his heart aches when he thinks about you and the way you’re treated home, in the way your mother has treated you in front of him. “I think she thinks she’s nothing without her family but I also think she was raised to believe that. They… Well, even her brother has a hard time seeing how fucking amazing she is.” 

“Is she?” Mingi drops his head to the side, doubt and a little prejudice on his expression. “Is she fucking amazing, Yun?” 

“She’s… She’s such a good person. Which is really crazy for me to say, because I thought she was a spoiled brat for a long time. And she is! But she’s also… She cares so deeply and she’s enjoys painting and she’s so great with kids and—” 

“And you have it bad,” Mingi laughs again, shoving him against the mattress with a push and standing up from the bed. Yunho laughs, recognizing the amount of pushing as tipsy Mingi behavior and nothing else. “So bad. Were you about to call her?” 

He feels called out and a little shy about it. He blushes and all. 

“Maybe.”

When his focus goes back to his phone, it’s when he hears it. 

And his heart drops to his ass. 

A distant curse and the sound of a call ending is enough to send his mind into a new, different spiral. 

“Was that…?” 

Yunho picks up the phone, checks the last call he made and your name appears next to the nine minutes and a half his conversation with Mingi lasted. 

His mouth runs dry, his throat closes as he turns to screen to show it to Mingi.

“Holy fuck.” 

“What do I do?” 

“That’s insane. San’s girl is going to have the best night of her life.” 

“Mingi!” He blocks the phone, tosses it on the bed and gets up to shake his best friend's shoulders. “What. Do. I. Do. Now.” 

Your heart still beats like the day you not-so-accidentally listened to a conversion you shouldn’t have. 

There’s the distant memory of your phone vibrating under your pillow at the hotel you were staying at for the night. It happened only a few weeks ago, near the three month mark into your trip around the country, looking for businesses worth the investment in little towns. That far into your adventure, you had met at least a dozen small companies worth every penny inside your father’s pocket, more so than the one’s already signed. You had met wonderful people who didn’t exactly know who you were and you had been treated so kindly it made the ache in your chest go away. 

At least for a little bit. 

So when you sleepily read Yunho’s name on your screen at two am in the morning, the sting of the pain was unfamiliar and the first thing that crossed your mind was that something bad happened to your brother. Or his brother. Or him. 

What other reason did he have to call you when he left that office hating you all over again? 

“H-hello?” 

Nothing. Just silence and maybe a distant melody, the ruffling of the phone against something. 

“Yunho? If you called me to piss me off I swear to God—”

“Holy shit, Mingi! You scared the shit out of me!” 

Mingi? 

There’s a deeper voice you can hear on Yunho’s end and that’s when you realized he didn’t mean to call you in the first place.

And you should've hung up there. But you didn’t and so you listened to their entire conversation and realized one thing: 

Mingi was right. You are a dumbass. 

And Yunho is even dumber, but that’s something you would have to rub on his face when you gather the courage to see him again. That day is not today, you made sure of it. 

You see, you’ve changed just a tiny bit these past three months. It’s not like you went to a spiritual retreat but by crafting that proposal while fleeing your feelings and the mess that you made with just one kiss, you came around something you never experienced before. Not fully, at least: 

Freedom. 

You spent Christmas and New Years all alone, with no one dear to you around and you saw the fireworks from your hotel window and you felt and suddenly you understood what Yunho sees in in sleeping in that tiny dorm with a roommate and a pile of dirty clothes in a corner, with no pushing their way into the room to pick his messes up and no one making sure he eats at the correct time, the correct meals and the correct porcelain for the day.

No rules, no conditions, just a place where he can be free and himself. 

You did all of that while also making sure you didn’t abandon your priorities. You went to sleep late because you wanted to and then you went to bed early the next day because there were no rules, no events you needed to attend to, no photographers asking you to smile.

There was no one to tell you that you looked fat after eating one delicious, non dietetic meal. There was no devil (your mom) whispering in your ear how everyone would notice the carbs, the bloat and the tiny zits. 

There was no one there to stop you from cutting your hair. And so you did. What once was kept long and straight in order to keep a traditional, clean look, now rested in waves on your shoulders,

It makes it so much easier to walk out of the shower, in less time too! 

And although your heart yearned for Yunho everyday, especially after hearing his conversation with Mingi at two in the morning when you weren’t even supposed to, it was the first time in years you felt happy enough to drop the mask, the pretences, the good posture and even the makeup. 

Yup, you went out without makeup three times! That’s some information that would send your mother into cardiac arrest at the very least. 

So now, as you try to move fast through a college campus that’s not yours, with a box that contains something you call an apology and it might not even be, your heart is beating with the same amount of strength just at the thought of all this backfiring. 

Because you’re not ready to see Yunho, not yet. You want him to come and find you, to come and tell you if he wants to accept you back into his life, under his terms, after you so insistently kicked him out of yours. 

You sneakily checked his calendar. You bribed your assistant, who bribed his assistant, so now his schedule for the week is in a screenshot on your phone and you have checked it four times to confirm this is a good time to be here. 

He has dinner with his family and yours (who don’t even know you’re back yet) at his house, on the hill, which is forty minutes away from his campus. That’s exactly the window of opportunity you’ve been waiting for since coming back. 

And you came back a week ago. 

You may or may not have memorized the code for the door from that only time you came to his dorm and so it’s not really a surprise when you quickly enter it and hear a screech behind you when you are busy closing the door. 

When you turn around, Yeosang is shirtless and covering his chest with his hands “Y/N!”

“Yeosang.” You say with a small bow, struggling to not laugh and turning your face away, looking at the postered up wall. “So nice to see you here, in your room.” 

“W-what are you… I mean how do you… Should I call Yun—” 

“No!” When you turn to him again, eyes wide with worry, he has a shirt on and his phone in his hand. “Please don’t… Let me do something real quick and then you can speak to him, okay?” 

You start to fumble with the box, placing it at the end of the bed and opening it up fast. You throw the lid on top of Yeosang’s bed and then get to work, pulling everything out. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I hate lying to my friends, Y/N.”

“And you’re such a great friend for that but you won’t be lying to him because I’m not asking you to do that.” 

“I wouldn’t even if you did ask me to.” 

“Well, I don’t know about that…” 

Okay, so you changed a little bit. Not a lot. 

You sigh, struggling with the placement of your gift/apology because Yunho changed his sheets and so the color scheme it’s not perfect anymore. 

“What’s all of this?” 

“Yunho enjoys dancing,” you start and you see him nod from the corner of your eye, so you smile. “He told me he did it to have this dorm but I didn’t buy it at all, and so when I was on my trip I… Sort of thought of him a little bit, not a lot.” You clear your throat, a slight heat creeping up your cheeks. “But I didn’t want to wait another day without giving this to him. I just… I can’t exactly be here when he sees it.” 

You finish, turning back to Yeosang and you realize you’re out of breath, nervousness creasing your brows. 

“Would you please let me know how he reacts to it the next time we see each other?” You ask softly, almost shy and Yeosang visibly relaxes at the tone. It makes you feel understood somehow and so you relax a little bit, too. “If you’re here when he gets here I mean, um, you are all dressed up.” 

When you point to his outfit, he seems to remember that he was, in fact, getting ready to go out when you walked in. His hair is wet but styled and all. 

“Oh, I was… I was just going to the club.” He points to a camcorder on his beat and you raise a curious brow, but don’t really ask anything. “I’m making a dance documentary for one of my classes. Yunho is in it, too.” 

That peaks your interest and he laughs, possibly at the way you light up at the mention of your fake-boyfriend-possible-love-of-your-life name. “He is?” 

“Yes, he’s… A big part of it, actually, but I go to this club to get footage and… You should ask him to explain it to you.” 

Now, at that, your smile sure turns sour because there’s no actual way of knowing if he wants to see you again or not. 

After all, he didn’t attempt to contact you after that phone call. 

You don’t know if he noticed that he called you, either. 

It’s kind of killing you inside, all the space you need to fill with assumptions instead of facts. 

“Sure, um…” 

“I can stay until he comes back.” 

“Oh, I don’t want to ruin your plans for the night, Yeosang. You should go and—”

“I want to see it. I want to record it,” he explains, looking over your shoulder and into the gift in Yunho’s bed. “He says he’s not sure, but I think he wants to dedicate his life to it, you know?” 

“To dancing?” 

Yeosang nods. 

Your voice sounds very small when you ask him “Do you think he’s going to like it?” 

He smiles, softly, endeared almost.

“He’s going to love it,” he assures you, “And your haircut, too.” 

You chuckle at that, touching the ends of it that rest on your shoulder “You think?” 

“Yeah! It suits you, actually.”

“Thank you, Yeosang.” 

This time, and after making small talk with his roommate, you leave Yunho’s dorm with a smile on your face instead of tears running down your cheeks. 

There’s exhaustion pouring out of Yunho by the time he reaches his dorm door. He closes his eyes, rests his forehead against the cool wood of it and lets out a sigh to collect himself. He needs to have the energy to take a shower, after all. 

It’s not as late as he expected it to be, the digital clock on the wall glows blue and neon and lets him know it’s around nine thirty. Good, that’s great. 

He misses you. 

And it’s hard not to think of you when he’s surrounded with people who know you, who bring you up when it’s time to talk about positive results for the company, or the time you organized an event for you mother because your brother had no taste to pick the venue or catering or whatever the fuck they were going on about tonight. 

It didn’t escape him that Soohyun glanced at him every time your parents brought you up and he wonders if it shows in his face just how much he longs to see you again.

He’s thinking about your face when the room unexpectedly lights up and Yeosang is standing on his own bed, in the corner, smiling like a creep. Yunho almost falls as a curse slips past his lips and he stares at his friend like something is deeply wrong with him. 

Because it is. 

It’s almost comical how breathless he is as he asks him: “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

“Hey!” 

“—Standing in the corner like a serial killer.”

“Turn around, Yunho.” 

“What?” 

“Turn,” he repeats, slowly, as he climbs out of the bed, the camera pointed in his direction still. “Around.” 

So he does. 

And what he sees… Confuses him. Until it doesn’t. 

There’s a few things on his bed: There’s some polaroid pictures lined up, different people he doesn’t know in them, all in different traditional attire and Yunho can see there’s inscription in them, the dates all read from early november to two weeks ago. 

There’s tickets to a competition that’s supposed to be sold out. He knows, he tried to get a ticket the second they announced it but couldn’t. The top dance teams are going to battle for some bucks but, most importantly, they’re going to battle to keep the dying scene alive. 

A book titled Why Dance Matters next to a golden retriever plushie with a suit that makes him giggle out of the pure weirdness of it. 

There’s a copy of grease with some signatures in the front. He can make out something that reads as Barry Pearl in it, he thinks. His mind reels at what that means. 

A cd in a clear case with a beautiful sunset and a building he recognizes immediately as the orphanage you took him to. Six silhouettes he can only imagine symbolizes him, Jaemi, Hyunjoon, his brother, Soyi and you. 

But what confirms it’s something you did, it’s the envelope that sits in the middle of it all. It's waxed and sealed with something that looks regal, elegant and, when he picks it up to see the seal up close, he smells your perfume. 

He turns to Yeosang, eyes watery, in request of an explanation. 

“Open it! I’ve been dying to read it but I’m a great friend,” Yeosang almost wiggles with excitement and Yunho’s eyes water a little. “Or so she said.” 

“She was here?” 

“Y/N?” His friend asks in return, weirded out. “Well, yes.” 

“When?” 

“An… hour and something ago.” 

“Where did she go?” 

“Are you okay?” 

He’s speechless, envelope shaking a bit in his hand as he pushes the need to run to you away. He doesn’t know what this means, he doesn’t know what the letter says either. His heartbeats are thumping on his ears and muffling Yeosang’s words a little bit. 

He needs to calm down. 

He needs to read the letter. He’s–

“You’re crying,” Yeosang turns off the camcorder, closing the screen and tossing it softly on his bed before taking a few steps in his direction. Concern is written all over his face, a little bit of guilt too. “I shouldn’t have let her in, right? I knew something was off with you but I had no idea that you two had fought or—” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Yunho quickly dries off his tears, shaking his head at his friend’s anxious apology. “I just… I missed her so much, Yeo.” 

“Oh.” 

“So fucking much.” 

“Yunho…” He closes his eyes and jumps a little a Yeosang’s sudden embrace, but he’s grateful for it. Envelope trap between his chest and Yeosang’s rib, he takes a bated breath filled with things he can’t quite burden his friend with. 

He remembers Mingi’s words loud and clear, but the only thing Yunho wants to do right now is find where you are so he can see you again. Hug you again. Kiss you again. 

That night, after he realized he had dialed your number by mistake, he had a full on breakdown in Wooyoung’s room and it took Mingi and Mingi’s girlfriend to talk him out of fleeing the country out of embarrassment, out of guilt. He thought back then he had definitely lost you, because the consensus the three of them came to was a ‘let her reach you if she wants to clear things out’ instead of a ‘call her and explain it yourself before she has the chance to reach out to you first’. 

Mingi said you had to at least prove you had any interest in making things right, in fighting to at least keep your friendship with him. 

As he opens up the letter, he immediately knows he should’ve just called you. 

He even forgets Yeosang is right beside him, looking away to give him some privacy to read your words without actually letting go of the embrace, just in case he needs it. Yunho knows this, he’s thankful, his legs shaking with need to go after wherever you are. 

And he’s about to ask again but, as he turns his head to regard his friend and explains the letter a little, he’s one step ahead of him. 

“She’s staying in a hotel, not her house.” Yunho opens and closes his mouth, about to ask him the name of the hotel when he shakes his head. “The luxury one in Itaewon. What? Did you think I would let her go without getting the information first?” 

Yunho shrugs, Yeosang clicks his tongue in disappointment, letting go of him and putting, at least, ten steps between the both of them. 

“She’s very talkative when she’s not with a big crowd, Yun. Now move.” 

“I think I—” He starts to say but stops midway, looking down at the letter and then at his friend again. 

Yeosang gives him a soft smile, the one he curves on his lips when he’s endeared with something, with someone. Yunho went clubbing with him once, he knows the smile very well. 

“I know,” he says in a murmur and then sighs like it’s a task to be around him. “Now, let’s go. We’re going to the same area anyway and I could use the ride. There’s the box.” 

In the car (one he ordered from an app, not his family car), his leg moves up and down and his hands tremble with anticipation and, as the imposing structure of the hotel comes into view while he stares at the window, he swears he feels at ease. 

For the first time in months, he feels like he’s home. 

And it’s all because he’s about to see you again. 

Yeosang is not a very discreet person. He’s soft spoken and he looks like he cares about his friend’s a great deal, but he has that clumsiness of a person who’s used to being transparent about things. 

He asked you if you just got home with a spark of hopefulness in his eye, like he couldn’t wait to clue in Yunho about it, like he knew what he was going to do when he read your letter and saw your gift. 

Yeosang asked you like Yunho had already forgiven you and that had filled you silly head with warmth and hope and expectations you shouldn’t have because, as far as you noticed, Yunho is not the most honest friend to have. 

So you asked yourself if Yeosang knew about the fight, if the rest of his friends knew. 

And you still told Yeosang where you are staying. 

There’s only one lamp helping with lighting up the bedroom, the city outside of it alive and busy like it always is. The amount of lights beyond the river bring you comfort, something familiar spreads on your chest when you take them in and you admit, for the first time in three months plus the week you’ve been staying here, that you love this stupid city even if it makes you feel trapped most of your days.

But here? In this space that you have made yours over the last seven days? You love it. 

Your hair is wet and your face is clean of any product. You told yourself to go about your night routine like you weren’t expecting something else to happen. That way, when it doesn’t because you feel that what you did is unforgivable as much as it is cruel, you won’t be as disappointed. 

So your face is moisturized and you have your nightgown underneath the silk bath this hotel provides and you’re totally not thinking about Yunho being in the same city as you, you are totally not freaking out over the reaction to your gift, you’re chill. 

You’re chilling, you’re cool. 

And the way your heart leaps when you hear a knock at the door means nothing, because you ordered room service like thirty minutes ago. It’s fine. 

He’s probably not showing up. 

So why the hell is he there when you open the door? And where’s your room service when you need it? 

“Yunho!” 

“Y/N…” 

The atmosphere turns weird and tense right away and you grab onto the frame of the door as he stares at you with indecipherable emotion in his eyes. Is he happy to see you? Is he here to curse you out? 

Is he mad? He’s totally upset at you. He is, he’s… Skinnier, just a little bit. His hair is lighter, too, like a brownish blond that suits him and his skin tone and he looks so good even if there’s dark circles under his eyes. 

You missed him so much. 

“Come in! Um…” You say after what feels like hours of silence, of you two just staring at each other with a little disbelief, opening up the room door wider and stepping aside so he can pass right by you. 

His cologne makes you a little dizzy, drives you a little crazier but there’s not enough time to focus on that because he has the box you left earlier in his dorm in one hand and your letter in the other. 

You close the door, taking in a little calming breath that does nothing to appease the erratic beat of your heart. 

The eighty two square meters of this room suddenly feel like ten and when he puts the box down on the coffee table of the immediate tiny living room space of this suite, you feel like it’s over. 

He turns around, a hand on his hip and the shade that the lamp casts on him doesn’t allow you to determine if he’s clenching his jaw or not, if he’s upset or not, if he’s—

Yunho raises his hand, the one holding your letter. 

“What’s this?” 

Oh, he’s so upset. Okay, good, you foresaw this the moment you decided to give him something. It’s okay, you tell yourself as you walk the steps separating you and take the letter from his hand, you can deal with this. 

And, although you have changed a little in the months you didn’t see him, there’s a long way to go before your defensiveness stops being the only way you know how to approach a situation targeting you and your ego. 

“If you didn’t like it, you could’ve just thrown it away or burned it, Yunho, you didn’t have to come all the way here—” 

“Read it to me.” 

You look up at him, blinking once and then twice at his request. 

“Didn’t you—” 

“Princess,” he says, letting out a tiny breath in between his words, “read it to me. Please.” 

Now that you’re physically closer to him, you can pick up this gentleness in his features that you know well. It’s the same expression he had back in the orphanage, when Jiwoo took Jaemi in her arms and he was left staring at you with his cheek pressed on his forearm while he rested on the table. You think about that exact moment a lot, late at night, when the only thing overwhelming your thoughts it’s him. 

You swallow the lump on your throat down as you take out the letter from the envelope. It’s a little dark but there’s really no need for you to read the words when you know them by heart. You wrote and rewrote them at least a hundred times before deciding the letter looked good and that it wasn’t too long, too obnoxious, too sweet, too cringy. Just the right amount of emotion in case it came to bite you in the ass, like now. 

“S-sure,” you let out a sigh, past caring if he sees you’re a little affected by the situation as a whole. “Yunho, I’m sure you’re reading this after seeing the gift layed out in front of you. Take it as an expression of gratitude for all the times the mere thought of you got me through a day, even in this time when we’re supposed to be upset at each other. I think about you a lot and I think about what I did, too. I’m— This all sounds to stupid and formal,” you criticize your own work without thinking it through, frowning and looking up at him. “This letter is supposed to be an apology and it reads like an email.” 

Yunho shakes his head, a tiny smile tugging on his lips. “Go on, please.” 

Sniffing because you feel uncomfy and vulnerable, you continue.  

“I’m sure you’re wondering why now and not three months ago. Well, it takes a lot for me to defy the expectations people put on my shoulders. As you know, my last name is laced with success I didn’t work on and letting go of things you’re used to is hard, but I did. I went away, I learned, I grew up a little bit and in my journey the only constant was you. Not the fight we had, not the way we have treated each other throughout the many years I’ve known you. I’ve always seen your life from the outside even if I was a part of it, I’ve seen your social media posts and wondered if I wasn’t deserving of the same kindness you display to your friends on them but, as you proved to me that I am deserving of it, I understood that it wasn’t your voice in my head telling me I didn’t, it was mine.

“Not my mother’s voice, not anyone else's, but mine. Accepting that was hard but I did it and I did it on my own but as a result of the impact you had on me the second you turned around and held me with the care I now think I deserve.” Something drops on the paper, wets it and blends the ink of the pen you used together and you realize there’s tears running down your cheeks. “I can’t ask you to forgive me for what I did. But just know that I kissed you because I wanted to, not because you were being kind to me. And I pushed you away because, out of everyone that has come and gone from my life, you’re the only person who has the possibility to break my heart and mend it the times you seem fit…” 

You look up and to the side to wipe your tears. You’d pat yourself on the back for how you read this to him, without any stutters or mistakes, but the truth it’s that melancholy swallows you as you reach the end of the letter. It’s more emotional than what you’d remembered, too, now that you’re reading it outloud and in front of the man you love. 

There’s no need for you to read what comes next because you want to say it looking at him. 

“And I’m sorry. I love you and I don’t love you just because we kissed or because we are forced to be together. I love you because you’re part of me, because you’ve always been. I love you and I can’t stand to lose you. Again, I’m sorry,” you repeat, looking down at the words again before finishing in a whisper: “Yours, Y/N.” 

There’s this pregnant silence that follows that makes you fidget on your feet. It takes a second for you to gather yourself together again, wipe your cheeks and look up at Yunho. There’s disbelief in his expression and you wince in preparation for what’s about to follow. 

“Like I said,” you start again, extending the letter to him so he can take it, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect you to do anything, really, a-and I understand if this is all too childish or too cringy for you to say something back. I don’t need you to say something back! Really, I don’t,” you laugh amidst the sudden verbal vomit and shrug, not even looking at him anymore. “I j-just wanted you to know. And I mean it: If you don’t want me that way, it’s completely fine, Jeong. I also settle for being your friend, i-if that’s easier for everyone— For you, if that’s easier for you,” you correct yourself, “because I don’t really care what anyone thinks anymore, including my mother, she can go fuck herself and she can win all she wants if that means keeping you in my life and—” 

He grabs the letter and in a second he uses the tight hold you have on it to push you closer, tearing the paper in the process. 

“Kim Y/N, you big dummy.” 

He lets go of the letter and you do too, hands resting on his chest as you stumble forward a little, the paper falling to your feet as his right hand settles on your cheek, the left one on the nape of your neck. 

“Excuse me?” 

Yunho laughs, breathy and pointed while his eyes scan your face. “You heard me.” 

“Are trying to piss me off, Jeong Yun—” 

This time, when Yunho kisses you, it doesn’t feel new. It doesn’t feel like defiance, it doesn’t feel like you’re breaking the rules or letting your mom win. 

It feels like coming come. 

The ache in your soul stops the second his lips move against yours, deliciously slow and firm while he holds you close. His hands shift, they move the satin robe as they descend and find their place on your back, on your hip. Your chest collides with his with a soft nudge forwards and you sigh against his mouth, welcoming the way his hands tighten on you, feeling finally at ease in his embrace. 

You thought, when preparing his gift, writing the apology letter and then earlier at his dorm, that your self control was something to be admired. Yeah, you love him deeply and all, but you had the restraint to give him the opportunity to decide what he wanted to do with all the things you told him. 

Now you think that there’s nothing in the world that could stop you from kissing his lips raw, from pulling his hair a bit when your fingers tangle in it, from drinking the sound you get in return. 

Fuck your self control. You want Yunho like you never wanted anyone or anything before. 

That’s why you’re grateful when he pumps the break, lips leaving yours and breath on your lips. When you open your eyes, he’s already staring at you. With the way he’s holding you, you barely have to get on your tippy toes to nuzzle his nose against yours with care and the action reminds you of that day at the office, before you fucked up, but the feeling is way different. 

This time, your gut tells you that whatever is about to happen with the two of you is something that’s going to linger, that he’s going to stay one way or another and your heart thumps loudly at the thought of having Yunho in your life forever. 

Four months ago, the thought would’ve given you a headache. 

Now, it heats up your cheeks as his hands return to your face. 

“I’m sorry, I had to kiss you. I also should’ve gone after you that night, in my dorm, I— I’m also sorry, Y/N,” he lets go of you softly, putting a step in between the two of you so he can take your hands in his. “I’m sorry I cornered you in the office and I’m sorry I expected you to just… Drop all of your beliefs and convictions for me. That’s the most delusional thing I’ve ever done.”

“It’s okay—”

“But I love you,” he breathes out and you feel like the air it’s been knocked out of your lungs. “I’m a big pretender, you know? I… I try to be as positive as someone can be, I try to be aloof and I ignore a bunch of things in order to let myself be distracted from what my family expects of me, so I couldn’t understand when you didn’t want to do the same. I do now.

“And I don’t let myself enjoy a bunch of things either, Y/N, but I do allow myself little moments of happiness. When I’m with my friends or when I dance, I tend to have those little moments and then I allowed myself to see you in a new light and I… If I thought those two things brought me some sort of respite from my sorrows, I had no idea you of all people could feel like… Like…”

“Home?” You offer, your voice a sweet whisper full of understanding. 

“Like home.”

He swallows tightly, averting his eyes to the floor for a second. 

“I’m sorry for not returning that call,” he says, his brows creasing a little bit, “I took advice from drunk people in love, so I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you come to me.” 

“I was doing the same,” you whisper back, shrugging his worries away. “Letting you come to me, that is. I couldn’t even— I mean, I should’ve given you all of this in person instead of dropping it off like a scaredy cat.” 

“You did hear the conversation though?” 

“Yeah. Mingi called me a dumbass and I’m not going to forgive him.” 

He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “He was right, a little bit.” 

“He called you dumber,” you return, frowning at his jab even though you know he didn’t intend any ill with it. “So yeah, you could say he was right.” 

There’s a few seconds where he just stares: at your hands, twined together with ease and familiarity. At your face, a loving smile lifts the corners of his mouth up before he steps closer again and lets his thumbs trace the curve of your mouth, your cheekbone, your nose. 

“I missed you so much, my love.” 

Oh.

Fuck. 

You warm to the pet name immediately, its significance running through you like a shudder and making you gasp softly, almost imperceptibly. You guess it shows on your expression, the smile on Yunho’s lips widening as his knuckle presses on your cheek gently. 

“You liked that I called you that?”

“Shut up.”

“My love,” he repeats, pecking your lips, “I love you. I’ve… I actually don’t know if I’ve loved you this way all this time, but I’m sure I loved you to some degree. I cared— I care about you.” 

You tear up again. 

That voice that tells you that you don’t deserve him comes back, a distant murmur of it this time, but it’s still there. 

For a good reason, too. 

“Forgive me for being so horrible to you all these years,” he makes a face, like he can’t believe you’re apologizing for that right now. “I wish I could say I did it because I was a vain, stupid child but it was all very much thought through.” 

“I know.”

“And I was horrible. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now, I—”

His lips press softly against yours again. “Stop it. I was horrible to you too, we were both stupid and childish and we had our reasons.”

“Did we, though?” Your nose scrunches while you truly think about all the times you could’ve been nicer to each other and chose to be mean instead. 

His eyes water a little. You frown, fingers tightening around his wrists, you turn to kiss his palm. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I just love you a lot,” he sniffs and you catch with your knuckle the tears that roll down his cheeks. He closes his eyes, letting out a breath and untensing his shoulders at the same time. “And it feels so good to be able to say it.” 

“When did you figure it out?” Curiosity takes over you for a second, you allow yourself to wonder about it without any guilt now. 

He hums, thinking about it with a pout on his lips “Like I said, I think I’ve always loved you to some degree. I just… Didn’t know it. I’ve never loved anyone like this before but I think that when I saw you with Jaemi and my heart felt like it was about to come out of my mouth, I kind of knew.” 

“So when I kissed you…”

“I knew,” he nods, “and I should’ve been more insistent when I was trying to talk to you. Go to your house, do something, but I’m… A little inexperienced in this type of stuff.” 

“Because you have no bitc—”

You’re already giggling before he interrupts. “And you love me like I am, so now what?” 

The smile on your lips is so wide you have to look to the side, focus on the shadow of the chair in the tiny living room space for a second to compose yourself. 

It doesn’t really work, because he’s smiling as hard when you turn back to him. 

And then, for the first time since he got here, he seems to notice the length of your hair. He brushes it back with his fingers, the strands barely damp now, and gasps when he reaches the tips at your shoulders. “You cut it!”

With a nod, you laugh at his sudden surprise. “I did, I’m about to get disowned.” 

“Oh, your mom is going to pass out at the very least.” He agrees right away and you laugh again before he joins, his teeth nipping at his lower lip for a second. “She’ll forgive you, though.”

“You think so?”

“You look too beautiful to stay mad at you for long.” 

Oh, your poor heart. You shake your head, diverting the attention from you by brushing the strands of his hair that rest on his forehead back. 

“Blond?” 

“Kind of, yeah. It’s this… Honey something that my hairdresser suggested.” 

Humming, you let your fingernails scratch his scalp gently as they go down, hands resting on his shoulder when you’re done. “They did a great job,” you say before you click your tongue, cocking your head to the side. “Are you sure they weren’t just calling you honey and you misunderstood?” 

His brow lifts, the corner of his lips does as well and he’s ducking his head so he can speak in that cocky tone of his you’re so used to. Only this time, there’s an edge to it that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“And If they did?” 

You know what he’s asking, you know why he’s asking. You find yourself curious about this type of teasing on his behalf, so you allow it to happen.

In your own terms.

“Did it happen?” You return, leaning even closer, hands grasping the lapel of his suit jacket and tugging on it, pretending to smooth it out with your palms afterwards. 

“Princess…” 

When you look at him, there’s this fiery energy that crosses his expression and it makes your imagination run wild with possibilities. 

Now that you both got through the emotional part of your reunion with tears, with overdue confessions and very necessary apologies, what’s left to resolve is this pent up tension that’s always been something more. With the way Yunho behaves sometimes, so proud and tough, you have a vague idea of what it could be like. 

And it makes you giddy with anticipation. 

You would like to turn your assumptions into facts. So you play dumb, fakely perking up when he calls you, blinking with pretend innocence a few times to sell the act. “Hm?” 

Catching the way his jaw ticks at your behavior, you realize that the rush that went through your body every time you got under his skin was not out of the pleasure of winning. 

It was because you liked it. 

Very much so, that the way his eyes scan over your body like he's deciding what to do with you and your attitude make you let out a tiny puff of air that he drinks right up when he crowds you again, hands on your hips and lips on yours once more. 

His mouth doesn't move with any trace of carefulness anymore. Before, you were able to tell he needed to kiss you, longingly, with all the things he couldn't say before on his lips against yours. Now, his tongue makes its way past your teeth and swipes against yours in a way that makes you stumble backwards, almost leaving the tight squeeze of his hands behind. 

Yunho catches you, walks with you until you feel the arm of the tiny couch supporting your weight as well. 

He leans in a little bit to help you up on it, his body immediately in between your legs, his palms making their way downwards. One is on your lower back, thumb absentmindedly caressing the area, and the other one is pressing right next to your leg on the couch so he can bite your lower lip and give both your lungs a bit of a break before diving into your mouth again. You wrap your arms around his neck and keep him close. 

Closer, closer, closer. You need his body pressing against yours as you try to keep up with the intensity of his kisses. You've never been kissed like this before, never with so much love and passion and want and need. 

You've been kissed while drunk and touched while high in the past, you've been fucked by people you don't remember the names of and you had dropped the sleeping around once you graduated college. 

There's so much of your youth you wish you've done sober. Because now, when his tongue catches a soft moan and his hand moves from your lower back to your leg, under your robe, you don't know why you freak out. 

No, you know exactly why. 

Breaking the kiss, you take two seconds to look at the plush of Yunho’s lips after being deliciously smothered with yours. You're both breathing hard, chests rising and falling in tandem and gasps for air filling the room. 

His hand moves higher, measuring your reaction and you know he's about to ask if it's okay to touch you when you grab his wrist and stop his movements. 

“We don't have to—” 

“Is not that,” you say right away but you're both speaking over each other. 

“I mean, there's a lot we need to talk about. I want you to tell me about your trip and—” 

“Sure, we can do that later,” you nod. “Right now, I'm— I mean, let me turn off the light and you can touch me all you want.” 

He frowns. 

“What?” 

Heart picking up for a different reason now, you clear your throat and try to cough the anxiety away. You can talk to him about these things, it's okay. It doesn't really matter how embarrassed you feel once the words come out of your mouth. 

“Um, I went up a few pounds while on the trip and— And that's a good thing!” You say when he looks at you like he's about to tell you that it's okay. “I ate whatever I wanted, it was great, really. I just…” 

“You did?” He asks in a soft, excited whisper.

“I don't know if you'll, um, i-if you're going to like it.” You finish, blinking the shame away. 

Yunho’s expression softens and you take it as an agreement. You've only been touched in the dark, anyways, so you push into his chest a little bit and off his embrace (even if you don't really want to) and start moving towards the only light casting shadows on the room. 

Only to be tugged right back by a firm hand on your arm.

With his chest against you and his lips grazing your ear, you can barely help the way you shudder. There's something hard poking your ass and the apparent size of it has you gulping, salivating even. 

But you have to turn off the light. 

“Come here,” he murmurs and softly moves the both of you to stand in front of the mirror that's next to the entrance. 

Even if you tried not to, it's something you've been avoiding the whole time you've stayed here. The mirror is huge, floor to ceiling and its position it's very elegant, very fitting for the purpose of this suit that's supposed to be reserved for people who need different outfits for different events. 

You haven't really used it other than quickly checking your clothes earlier today, before leaving to go to the dorm and, even then, it was only a quick ten seconds.

It stings a little that, although you've made progress, your body and the way you perceive it still have such a grip on you. When you add the man your heart desires to the mix? Well, there's little to nothing you can do to let go of your insecurities.

The heat of Yunho's body leaves you for a second and he's turning another light, the one closest to the entrance, adjusting its intensity so the ambiance is not broken by the bright glow of it. 

You gulp again when he returns, but melt into his chest when he presses his body against yours again. 

How can you feel so comfortable with him but so uncomfortable with yourself? It's weird, it's strangely very you but you can't even tell him that because the intensity of his gaze when you catch it in the mirror shuts you right up. 

You know he's telling you to listen to him, to notice how serious he is about this as his chin rests on your shoulder. 

“I've called you ugly before, right? I've have actively contributed to your insecurities in a way that I'm not going to forgive myself for, ever,” he starts and the direct approach to it makes you teary eyed all over again. He notices, lips finding your shoulder to comfort you. “The thing is, Y/N, that I never actually meant it. I think I was pissed off because you were— and are so fucking beautiful.” 

You close your eyes and let out a pleading sigh “Yunho…” 

“No,” he says and you feel how he shakes his head, his chin still on your shoulder. “Someone needs to tell you this. You live in your head way too much.” 

He understands. 

You love him so much. 

“Open your eyes, princess.” 

You do. 

“Look at yourself.” 

You don't. You look at him instead. 

He's staring at you through the mirror and he straightens his back to rest his cheek against your temple, the height difference at his advantage because, this way you have to look up at him and it will give away the pure rejection you have for your reflection. 

“I don't think I've ever found someone as beautiful as I found you. When I realized that, that was what pissed me off… Well, I think I somehow buried the thought away but you are so breathtakingly pretty, Y/N.” He takes in a breath and you lose yours, his hand resting on your hip going up and tracing the curve of your waist. “But it doesn't really matter what I think, it matters what you think, hm?” 

Turning his head, his nose presses against your skin now and he leans in, nuzzling softly, with care, until his lips peck your jaw. 

“I can assure you that you can go up a hundred pounds, go down, up again and I wouldn't care. It doesn't matter, I have found you beautiful in every version that you have presented yourself in and I will find you beautiful if you change your whole appearance everyday. I love you,” he reminds you, “and I love everything that you bring along with you. Insecurities, panic attacks and clever insults to my clothing included.” 

The chuckle that you let out makes him smile against your cheek and he gives you a little peck before putting some space between your face and his. He looks you up and down in the mirror again and you can see genuine want in the way his pupils dilate. You see it happening in real time but then you also see his self-restraint. 

You're at a loss for words, but manage to mumble out “Thank you, Yunho.” And then you turn your head, catching his lips in a soft closed mouth kiss that he returns right away. 

“Whenever you're ready to let me prove how beautiful I find you, I'll be here.” He says when you let his mouth move away from yours, your lips softly pecking his jaw instead and getting a sigh in return. “I can wait.” 

Then, the worst thing happens: His hands leave your body and he starts to step away. 

It's a little embarrassing how quickly your entire being protests and you realize that there's a clinginess to you that you're not so sure where it came from. You reach for him, barely turning, and tug him right where he was. 

Looking at him through the mirror again, you enjoy the genuine surprise on his expression and the way it turns into desire when you put his hands on you again: on your stomach, on your hip. 

When you turn your head to look at him directly, his eyes stay fixated on the reflection. His hand on your stomach turns, knuckles softly caressing you. You want to ask him what he likes about that but don't, instead, you tell him what goes on inside your head. 

“Yunho, I do want you. I want you… But I also want to make sure that you like me.” 

He looks at you then, mouth ready to reassure you again but you shake your head to shut him up. 

“I heard you,” you confirm, smiling a bit and then closing your eyes at the visage that accompanies the concept of your body in your mind. You know it's far from what it actually looks like but that also means that you don't know exactly what it looks like and that's terrifying. “I know you love me but would you like me?” 

“I do,” you hear the frown in his voice and take a deep breath before opening your eyes again. “Princess, do you trust me?” 

You nod without a second thought and he leans in, nose almost touching yours. 

“Would you let me show you how much I like you?”

It takes a second or two, but you nod again.

“And would you let me know if it's too much?” 

“Yes,” you breath out, too intoxicated by the closeness, by the way his lips softly trace yours without actually kissing them to think about the implication of his words. 

When he pulls away again, you let out a sound that gives away how much you want him. Yunho’s lips curve and when your eyes finally focus on his again, you can see the quick decision he makes as he looks at the mirror again, resolve and purpose in his expression as he takes off the jacket of his three piece, tossing it on the sofa. 

There's something magnetic in the way he rolls his sleeves up, securing them in his forearms and your eyes follow the motions and trace the veins that you're able to see before he turns away from you. 

He takes one of the chairs he's able to easily mov, placing it behind you both. You realize you've walked a few steps closer to the mirror, and so your back is pressed against it when his attention returns to you, when he takes your face with his hands and crushes his lips against yours without explaining what he just did. 

You brace himself on his forearms, nails pressing on his skin because somehow this kiss feels different. Its pace is not hard to keep up with but it feels like you are, the care he puts in his movements as his palms brush your hair back slowly and then go down, down until they're reaching the knot that keeps your robe closed. 

This time, instead of panic, you feel your stomach flutter. Butterflies all over, there's goosebumps on your skin when he tugs the robe open and feels the satin of your pajamas with his fingers. He makes a noise and, at first, you think it's out of protest because you're not already undressed for him.

But then his knuckles trace the hem of the nightgown and he makes the noise again, tongue flicking against yours harder, getting a moan out of you.

Yunho’s lips find your cheek, your jaw, nipping at the skin of your neck and over your pulse when he gets to it and you close your eyes, head falling against the mirror and head moving to the side so he can kiss every inch of skin if he wants. 

“You smell so fucking good.” 

That makes you smile, a droopy curve to your lips before you bite a sound back “I showered.” 

“You always do,” he whispers into your skin, lips finding your ear. “You always have. Do you know how many times I had to control myself around you?” 

“Hm,” you muse, pretending to think about it. “Do you know how many times you had to?” 

“Oh, trust me princess, I know.” 

He pulls back and you open your eyes. You wonder if yours are carrying the same intensity as his when they go down your body, taking your sleepwear in. 

It's a simple blue v-neck slip dress with some floral lace at the trim lines. It splits on the sides and falls mid-thigh. Something very basic in your opinion, but you don't miss the way his eyes are glued to the skin of your thigh. You're not wearing a bra and your nipples are painfully hard. 

“I didn't actually expect you to come to me tonight,” you lie a little, lips turning up into a shy smile. “So I didn't—” 

“Is this what you wear to sleep?” He interrupts and you watch him gulp. 

“Mhm.” 

“Every night?” 

“Something like this,” you tug at the fabric, softly, “yes.” 

“Fuck.” 

You giggle in return at how affected he seems, but the amusement dies when his eyes return to yours. Holding your hand, he takes a step back and then another and another until he's falling with a thump on the chair he brought close. 

He takes you in one more time before letting go of your hand and manspreading on the chair “Come here, princess.” 

The tone of his voice makes your entire being shake and you take in a breath before following his command. Which is crazy because you never, ever would've followed an order from him. 

But now you can't help yourself. 

Standing in between his legs, you can see when he holds the arms of it after attempting to touch you as soon as you get close enough for him to be able to reach you and, when you're about to straddle his lap, he shakes his head and clicks his tongue in response. 

You understand what he wants immediately and you turn around, watching your reflection in the mirror as you sit down on his legs that he managed to close again in the three seconds it took you to do so. 

You're breathing hard by the time he accommodates you both on the chair, his very clear erection pressing against your ass and lower back and making you dizzy at what you're looking at. 

The image on the mirror is clear, it allows you to see both your reaction and his reaction when you fidget without thinking about it on his lap and the friction it causes brings you a whisper of pleasure. 

“You're a dream, Y/N,” he says and you can tell it came out of his mouth without really thinking about it. Finally, he moves his hands and his nails press on the skin of your shoulders, goosebumps evident and tremor barely concealable when he drags them down the length of your arm and over your hands that rest on top of your knees. 

He covers them with his and you stop following his movements in the mirror to look at his face “Can I?” 

You swallow and then nod and he giggles, this hard facade he has on slipping as he presses a reassuring kiss to your shoulder “Can you say it, my love?” 

“Yes,” you say quickly, your voice betraying you “Please.” 

He closes his eyes, a curse under his breath. “Don't beg me, princess, I got you.” 

You can't help but be curious and, although this is something you can find out as the night goes on, you end up wondering out loud either way: “Why? You don't like it?” 

He shakes his head, that hardness in his expression returns when he opens his eyes to look at you and the curious glint of your expression through the mirror. 

“Do you enjoy it when I beg you, Yunho?” 

And then you slightly move on his lap, trying to pass it like an absentminded movement. 

He sees right through it and the realization shows on his face. 

“Ah,” he laughs, back falling against the chair and head lolling back, “are you going to be a brat, princess?” 

Your mouth quirks at the quick and accurate read he gives your attitude. 

“Of course you are.” 

Again, the bravery your amusement gives you is short lived. He uses his hands over yours to open your legs and his, fast, earning a surprised squeak out of you. Your first instinct is attempting to close them but he huffs and perches your legs on his. You loop your feet around them to avoid falling forward at the lack of things to hold on to. 

This way, your panties are on full display as well. They're simple cotton white panties and there's a wet patch in the middle of them that grows a little at the display, at the image you see in the mirror. 

Yunho curses under his breath again. 

“You're my dream,” he says, a little bit distracted again and then he remembers himself. “I don't like people begging me, I don't give them the time to.” 

Raising your eyebrows, you're about to protest because you don't want to hear about his encounters with anyone else, but he won't let you. 

“One time, I almost had a fight with a friend over teasing. You know her, Mingi's girlfriend,” he says and you don't know if he's smiling at the memory or at the way you squirm under his touch when his fingernails start dragging over the skin of your inner thighs slowly. “I told her the truth: I'm too impatient to tease. She said it's necessary, I said I never needed to tease anyone to get with them and it went on for almost an hour.” 

He reaches the plush that has formed on your inner thighs and you can physically feel your centre growing wetter. 

“I never got it,” he insists and, when he pretends that he's going to touch you where you need it the most only for his touch to go back down the expanse of your thighs, you let out dissatisfied huff. “Now I think I do.” 

“Yunho…”

“You wanted to beg?” He asks, mouth against your ear and hot breath on your cheek. “I can make you beg.” 

You give in almost immediately. 

“Please,” tongue wetting your lips, you attempt to move in order to get some sort of relief but he's quicker than you. Strong hands hold your hips steady and you puff out some air again. “Please touch me.” 

It's clear the whine on your voice affects him because he pants against your cheek, nudges your face with his nose and then dives with his lips to kiss your neck again. 

“Be still, princess.” He commands and you stop trying to wiggle against him, only to rest your back against his chest when he brings his hands down in a caress and holds you fully open for him again. “I got you, but do as I say.” 

He takes your nod as an answer this time and his lips travel down your neck, to the skin of your back and then your shoulder. You watch in the mirror as his teeth catch the strap of your nightgown and, when he speaks again, it's a little muffled because of it.

“Can I take this off you?” 

You take a breath before replying “Yes.” 

And then he slips the strap off your shoulder with his teeth and you swear you're ruined for everyone else entirely. 

There's no way anyone is going to make you tremble like he did just now.

He goes ahead and does the same to the other strap, hand quick in catching the gown from falling completely. 

“Should I?” 

“Yunho… Stop teasing me.” 

He chuckles and takes his time to redo what he just undone: he pulls the strap on your left shoulder up again, switches the hand that's holding your second to last piece of clothing up, and does the same to the other strap. 

“But you look so pretty in it.” 

Your skin heats up harder than ever before. 

“You look so pretty like this, all breathless and ready for me to touch you… Do you know how happy it makes me that I can touch you, princess? That you’re in my lap and not in my head?” 

You swallow back a whine “Y-you thought about me like this?” 

“I dreamed about you like this,” he kisses the nape of your neck and then focuses his attention on the shoulder he neglected before, “for months.” 

You hum in acknowledgement at his words, but your mind is elsewhere because his hands return to their ministrations on your inner thighs and it's hard to concentrate on anything else but the pad of his thumbs ghosting over your panties as they move. 

He finally concedes and lets his hands wander upwards until they get ahold of the hem of the nightgown and, in one swift movement, you're left in nothing but your underwear in front of him. 

Well, in front of the mirror. He's watching the reflection of your body carefully and you can barely spare a look at it, breath caught in your throat at his reaction. 

When he sees your naked torso, he fully lets out a moan. 

You feel slick rush out of you at the sound but don't turn to yourself to verify what exactly about you made him react that way, made him get even harder against your ass. 

“God, look at you.” 

Breathing hard, you turn your head slightly so that your nose touches his and you think he's about to drop it, give in and kiss you when you feel his thumb and index pressing against your cheek, turning your head to the reflection again. 

“Is this okay?” 

You know he's referring to the hold on your face and you mumble out a yes, still looking at him through the mirror. 

“I said, look at yourself.” 

You do. 

Legs open and still perched on top of his, white panties turning a little see through due to your arousement and nipples pebbled in full display, you allow yourself to enjoy the two seconds of clarity before your body starts to shape shift in your head, before your thoughts turn you undesirable and before you fall into your dysmorphia. 

Yunho is right there to catch you, though. 

“Do you know how lucky I am that you're even allowing me to see you like this, Y/N?” 

The hold on your face relaxes and you follow the movement of his hand, down until it settles on your throat, relaxed, not even putting any pressure. 

“Still okay?” 

You nod. 

He puts in slight pressure now and, when you moan, he chuckles but doesn't say anything to acknowledge what makes him laugh. Instead, his hand keeps descending until his fingers rests in between your breasts and then he softly cups one of them, thumb passing over your nipple and making you jump at the sudden contact before letting go. 

“So fucking pretty. You see this?” His fingers take hold of the skin of your tummy that connects with the curve of your waist and he pinches slightly, making you squirm and tickling you a bit. “Everything you are, everything you have makes my heart beat,” he kisses your shoulder again, “and my dick hard,” and again, “and makes me want to prove to you that there's no one in this world that can come close to you, not in my eyes, my love.” 

Oh, my God. 

He says it in a way that makes you want to believe him. And, deep down, you know you do. 

Even though it's complicated, even though it takes effort to make years and years of self-loathing disappear, you know you can try. 

Because you desperately yearn to see yourself from Yunho's point of view. 

This time, when you turn to kiss him, he doesn't put up any restraint. His dominant mask slips off of him for just a second when you grab his face, pliant mouth moving at the rhythm and pace yours is marking, a whine getting muffled with your tongue. 

He gives your legs rest, closing his legs (and, in consequence, yours as well) and, when you tug at his hair so you can mark his neck down at the weird position you're in, he groans and you want to smile but he's searching your lips before you can even leave a bruise on his skin. 

“I love you, I love the way you think about me, I love what you make me want to think about me,” you assure him when you pull back to look at him. His cheeks are red and his lips are swollen and you love the way they're parted as he recovers his breath. 

“Lesson learned?” 

“Mhm,” you kiss his lips again and take the hand resting your waist, bringing it down to your clothed sex so he can feel how wet you are “now please, would you touch me?” 

“Fuck, you really do love to beg, hm?” He says and it's breathy, like he can't actually believe, and he doesn't give you time to respond because he's already kissing you again. “Let's go to bed.” 

“W-wait.” 

“Yeah?” 

The way you glance at the mirror is a dead giveaway of what you truly want. It makes him take in a sharp breath and grab your face in between his hands, fascination written all over his expression. 

“Do you want to watch when I touch you?”

You breathe out a moan in response.

“You want to watch yourself while I make you come?” 

A little shy but with resolve, you nod. 

He curses. 

Next thing you know, your legs are perched over his again and they’re wide open. Your arms fly back to hold onto him, onto anything that helps you not fall on your face but then his perfect, veiny hand presses on your torso and you fall back comfortably into his embrace again. 

He wastes no time, lips marking a path from your shoulder to your neck and fingers ghosting your clit over your panties and you whimper, impatience making you move against his crotch and making him grunt at the friction. 

“I k-know you just s-said you just discovered the joy of t-teasing but can you please do somet— Fuck!” 

His thumb presses on your bundle of nerves over the cotton and you can’t help but shake. 

It has been a while since you’ve even touched yourself truly, with want and need behind. It’s been a while since someone else touched you there, period, so the sensation feels new and you kind of feel like an overly inexperienced woman with the way you can’t help the immediate build up when he starts moving his thumb.  

It’s electric and you notice that your eyes closed the second he touched you, so you remember yourself. You remember what you asked for, what you actually want to see. 

When you open them again and look at Yunho, you find him already looking at you. His parted lips turn into a proud smile when he catches your eye and he nods, kisses trailing up to your ear, teeth nipping at the skin. 

“Good girl.” 

Fuck. 

He stops his movements to let his index, middle and ring finger cup your sex entirely, press into the fabric and let it soak with your arousal. You see in the mirror and you watch, with fascination, how he manages to twist the cotton to the side and expose your pussy for you both to see with the same hand. 

“You’re so wet, princess, I bet you taste so good…” 

Your brain short circuits and malfunctions when he finally touches you without anything in between his skin and yours. His index reaches out and collects the evidence of how much 

you want him, of how much you want him and you moan when the fabric snaps against your pussy when he lets go of it. 

“Do you?”

He toys with the stickiness on with his fingers, rubs it in between them and then brings his hand up so you’re able to see it without the mirror’s help. 

“Look at me,” you do, obedient, “and open up.” 

You open your mouth and allow his fingers to get in and rest against your tongue. You suck out of instinct, eyes never leaving his, and he gulps as he watches you taste yourself until your arousal transfers from his fingers to your tongue. 

“Let me taste it now.” 

Licking into his mouth, the fingers that were previously on yours settle on your throat, not allowing you to fully lean in and kiss him like you want but, instead, letting him have control of it. 

You swear you see stars when he sucks his tongue into his mouth and he hums, pleased with the taste. 

“You taste so fucking good.” 

Letting you go, you’re breathing hard when he pushes you a bit to put some distance between the both of you. 

“Get up and take these off.” He snaps the elastic of your panties and the sting against your skin makes you whine. 

You can’t think, can’t speak, can’t do anything but wait for him to lead your actions and the consensual loss of control feels so freeing that it makes you dizzy. So you oblige, getting off his lap and allowing him to turn you around so that your ass faces the mirror. When you look at him, he’s looking at the reflection and not you, so you decide, with a boost of confidence because of the hunger in his eyes, to give him a little show. 

You bend over, forehead almost touching his chest and proceed to take off your underwear that way. You open your legs a little, giving him a clear view of it when the fabric falls from your legs and pools at your ankles and, when you twist your head to the side to look at his reaction, his tongue is out and licking his bottom lip like he’s starving for it. 

For the first time ever, you feel both sexy and desired at the same time. 

He reaches for your ass in a way you’re not so sure it’s calculated and you fall fully into his chest with a soft moan when he opens you up for him even more. 

“So hot,” he says, low, under his breath, like he’s not even thinking before he speaks and he lets his fingernails drag on your skin (something you’re learning he enjoys doing and that you also like, a lot) until his hands fall to his knees again. “Fuck.” 

He still hasn’t even touched you properly and you already feel drunk on his touch. You feel that way, at least, when you prop your hands against his chest and push yourself up. He turns you around quickly, sits you on his lap with your legs open again and sighs. 

“I’m not going to make you beg for it anymore when all I want to do is watch you come, princess.” 

Arm around your middle, he presses you flush against his chest and takes your right hand in his. It allows you to let go of the grasp you have on him a little and, when he guides your own fingers to your pussy, you get why. 

“Show me how you like it.”

You feel lewd, exposed and dirty in a way you never thought you would enjoy. But here you are, craving 

“Yunho…”

“Show me,” he insists, “so I can learn.” 

Isn’t it a little bit funny that he sounds like he’s the one begging you when he speaks? 

You show him. Starting with collecting a bit of your slick, you drag a finger upwards from your entrance to your clit and then, only when you can see it fully glistening in the mirror, is when you press down and caress it in circular motions that send electricity through you right away. 

As you do with everything, this is something that, although you don’t really have time to even think about doing most of the days, you have perfected. There’s a science to it, a method that you’ve discovered via need and lust and that has never been so thoroughly explored than right now. 

It’s like you have kept your needs like a nasty little secret inside of your heart, just like you did with your love for Yunho, and you’re letting it all out. 

You pick up the pace, alternating from circles to side to side motions and the pleasure quickly becomes overwhelming. Or have you been touching yourself for him for minutes now? Time disappears in every sound you unconsciously let out, it blends with the glint of passion in Yunho’s eyes and it dissolves in an orgasm that quickly takes over you and shakes you forward. 

“That’s it,” he mutters with his lips against your temple and his hands holding you steady. “Now’s my turn.” 

He replaces his hands with yours, bats your fingers away when you try to prolong your pleasure and takes over at a relentless pace, overstimulating you.

It goes on like that for a minute or so where you shake and you readjust in his lap and you shake again when he bucks your hips and you feel him firm against your ass. You desperately want to help him feel this way, too, but there’s only so much you can do when he teases your entrance with his index and finds you relaxed enough to put it in slowly. 

Slowly until it glides in and out smoothly and you hold onto your forearm, and whimper and his name spilling from your lips in bliss when his ring finger joins. You hope you don’t look too delirious, you wish you’re not making a fool of yourself for feeling the heat pool on your lower belly so quickly again. 

“Oh, yes, yes, I’m—” 

“Don’t look at me or what I’m doing, look at yourself.”

Huh?

“W-what?”

“Watch yourself come,” he reiterates, breathless and, when you disobey and look at him through the reflection, he’s already focused on your face, mouth hanging open and brows furrowed with determination. “I want you to see how beautiful you look coming all over my fingers, Y/N.” 

He curves them upwards and the sensation somehow intensifies “Shit.” 

“Come, Y/N.”

You’re not sure if you’re able to prove his words to be true. When you come undone, you’re looking at yourself and in the mirror is someone you don’t exactly recognize. Someone you don’t perceive as yourself because, yes, the person staring back at you is beautiful. And that person looks sexy and sensual and is glowing with pleasure written all over their face but they’re not someone you have categorized in your brain as you. 

And then you understand. This raw, pure, unfiltered state of you is something you hadn’t reached before. Naturally, you had never seen yourself come. And you hadn’t been handled with so much care through an orgasm before, so you lived it fully and then, only when you stop shaking and your legs fall from his and your feet are on the floor, holding your weight steady, is when you allow yourself to look away from your reflection and turn to the man responsible for the best orgasm of your life. 

His lips are quivering, his eyes are closed and his chest rises and falls against your shoulder as he holds you to him. 

“You… Jeong Yunho…” 

He smiles, probably at the way your voice trembles and gives away just how fucked out you already are, but he doesn’t open his eyes  “Yes?” 

“My turn.” 

When he opens his eyes, you’re already standing up in front of him, his hands shifting on your body, the fingers that just made you see stars leaving a wet trail on your skin before they settle on your stomach. 

And, although he seemed tough and dominant just a minute ago, he puts no resistance when you grab his arm and make him stand up as well. You get on your tippy toes to nuzzle his nose with yours and he holds onto you again as you stumble backwards, towards the bedroom. 

“You’re too dressed, Jeong.” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy me in a dress shirt,” he says, a smug smile in his lips when your back hits a wall and he presses his body to yours, “prepping you to take my coc— F-fuck, princess.”

Your hand teasing his erection over the fabric of his expensive pants is enough to shut him up. Good, you already let him have his fun (and yours, by consequence) and, even if you enjoyed the loss of control, there’s something equal parts rewarding and hot about winning it back with the simple press of your thumb where you believe his leaking tip is. 

“You’re too overconfident sometimes, Jeong,” you whisper against his lips and it may be your two amazing orgasms or the way you love to have something over him, a little bit of power at least, that make you overly confident right now as well. He puckers out to kiss you but you don’t budge. “Want to see if you prepped me right?” 

It’s a question for consent. You have to make sure he wants you this way, too. That this is fun for him, too. And when he pauses your heart feels like it stops for a second, just like time. 

But right after there’s this quiet agreement you both come to and his mouth devours yours as you move in tandem, in coordinated effort to undress him: You loosen his belt and work on the button of his pants while he unbuttons his shirt and both your feet move with synchronized steps until he’s falling on the bed and you’re getting on your knees in front of him. 

He, however, stops you with a hand caressing your face softly. 

“Later,” he mutters with a soft smile that’s laced with something passionate and lewd you feel you’re about to discover. He leans in, teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling until you’re whining and you taste a little blood on your mouth. “I need to fuck you right now.” 

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You do however make sure to peel his underwear off him while you’re on your knees, the size of him making you wet and ready all over again.

When you stand up, he grabs your tired legs to pull you closer. It feels like a pause in the middle of passionate urgency, but when he takes his time to kiss under your belly button and the expanse of your hips, you feel like it only adds fuel to the fire. 

The fact that he’s even taking the time to explore you makes you want to combust.

“Oh.” He bites you right over your hip bone and you take his hair into your fingers, pulling him back. “Y-you said you needed to fuck me?” 

“I do,” he laughs against your skin and then leans back, taking him with you and you let him, falling on your side before he pushes you against the mattress, body covering yours and palms touching you all over. “I just enjoy taking my time with you.” 

“I can see that, Jeong.” 

He’s distracted again within the second, looking down your body and taking you in like it’s the first time he’s seeing you even though he had a clear view of you and your pussy in the mirror five minutes ago.

And there’s this urge that takes over you, you can’t even fight the words that come out your mouth next.

“Make love to me.” 

He pauses again and then your words register in his brain, you can see the exact moment they hit him and you think you see him tear up a little before he blinks the deep emotion away to focus on the moment. You have to do the same. 

“I will. Every day of my life, if you ask me to, if I’m so lucky to.”

The rest of the night, from the moment he says those words, kisses you and moves you so you’re in the middle of the bed, it all passes in slow motion. 

And it all passes really fast, too. 

Yunho makes love to you. He enters you while looking into your eyes and whispering how much he loves you against your lips and you say it back. He holds your hand as his hips move and his length drags deliciously inside of you. He marks your chest with his lips and your heart with his love and he closes his hands over yours when his pace picks up and he allows to lose himself in the moment too. 

You make love to him as you push him onto his back, his pretty face all flushed, the pink coloring his neck and his chest where you hand rest as you ride him and watch his control slip from him, as you memorize his moans and grunts and as your walls squeeze him in before coming again on his cock and it only takes to firm, hard strides for him to spill himself inside of you as well, the prove of your love making spilling out of you a little when he holds you to his chest and he pulls out of you, both of you sated, both of you in love. 

It feels like an hour has passed when someone speaks again, the silence in the room comfortable and accompanied by the beats of both your hearts. In reality, it’s only been around ten minutes where you’ve closed your eyes and breathed the remnants of Yunho’s cologne, cheek pressed against his chest and his fingers drawing random figures on your naked back. 

You decide to break the silence when you remember something. 

“I think they forgot my room service.” 

There’s a pause and then Yunho is laughing loudly and it makes you smile. His chest vibrates and you can see, on your peripheral, how he covers his eyes with his forearm. 

“I’m being serious, I ordered like three hours ago.” 

“Maybe they knocked and we didn’t hear them,” he mumbles tiredly and you finally look up, chin pressed where your cheek was a second ago. “We were pretty… Busy.” 

“That’s worse, Jeong!” 

“Why?” He asks, genuinely clueless and then it clicks for him. He brings down his arm and opens his eyes wide with shame. “Oh, my God.” 

“Mhm.” 

“How are you going to look the receptionist in the eye?” 

“She knows me, too. She asked me to take a picture with her  when I check out.”

Yunho sighs and says nothing. He looks at you, hand on your back moving until it reaches your face and he lets his knuckles trace your nose in a way that makes you scrunch it. 

“I forgot you were famous.” 

“We both are,” you w-hisper back, lips forming a thin line as you think. “I mean, if someone leaks that we’re both here, it won’t look weird because we’re supposed to be together.” 

“Supposed to?” He frowns. 

“Well, yes, to the public at least.” 

Yunho pouts. 

He pouts and your stomach twists and turns with nerves and butterflies. You’re joking, kind of. 

“Are you not my girlfriend, Y/N?” 

Oh, he’s adorable. It’s so easy to tease him when you’re both not at each other’s throat. 

You wonder if you’ll ever have a fight again, your heart weak for him even when you try to keep the joke going. 

“I haven’t been asked to be anyone’s girlfriend…” 

The deadpan expression that follows your quip breaks your resolve entirely and you laugh, hiding your face on his chest as he mumbles something you don’t catch. 

“What?” You look up at him again. 

“I said that you’re annoying and that you are my girlfriend.” 

“No, I think you said that you love me.”

There’s something so reassuring in the way the annoyance disappears from his expression and it’s replaced by something sweet and he looks like he can barely fight the words back when he replies with: “Yeah, I do.” 

You hum, happy with his response “I thought so.” 

Pressing your cheek against his skin again, there’s only two seconds of silence before his hand is on your shoulder and shaking your body. 

“Say it back, Y/N.” 

“So needy,” you tease and he shakes you again, groaning, so you sigh and pull away from his body to sit up a little. “I love you too.” 

He leans into your space, a blissful smile curving his lips before he pecks your mouth in a sweet, short kiss “Good,” he whispers, falling against the pillows and dragging your body with his so that you’re resting against the soft material as well. “When did you come back?” 

“A week ago.” 

“Hm,” his hands return to your body, fingernails dragging softly up and down your arm, “your family doesn’t know.” 

At the mention of them, you close your eyes and squeeze, reality washing over you. 

“I’m sure my mother does.” 

“She doesn’t,” he assures you, “she would’ve mentioned it by now and she only talks about the project you’re going to lead once you’re back.” 

You open your eyes “What project?” 

“I’m not sure,” he says softly, “I thought you were already leading one?” 

“Something like that,” you nod. “I, um… Was networking in a way, gathering new information on new companies to invest in and help their growth. Small business with original concepts that we can boost or help bring to the city and all of that.” 

“Did you have fun on the trip?” 

“Yeah,” you answer truthfully, “I did. I met a lot of people, I visited places I never even knew existed, I also learned a lot about myself and about what I want… And I got away from Satan for a while.” 

He knows you mean your mom, so he snorts out a laugh and shakes his head at the jab. 

“I missed you a lot, though.” 

His amusement dies slowly but happiness remains on his face. You’re sure yours is a reflection of his, as well. 

“I missed you too,” he answers in a murmur and you nuzzle the hand that reaches your cheek before giving it a kiss. “I’m glad you had fun and it sounds like being away helped but… Never do it again.” 

“Oh?” You try to tease but he insists. 

“Never leave without telling me again, please,” his whisper sounds like a plea and your heart beats louder. “I’ll miss you too much.” 

There’s an impulse, a need that soars through your blood. “I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get away again but, when I do, you can go with me.” 

“I will,” he answers right away and at the confirmation that you want him there with you, you see the tension slip away from his features, “my bags are already packed and all.” 

“I bet they are,” eyes rolling back in annoyance, you press a palm on his chest and push him a little. “Needy.” 

“Shut up.” 

There’s a lot of things to talk about. A lot of things you want to tell him, to mention, to bring up and discuss with him. Like what happens after you leave this bubble you’re floating in, if you tell your brother and his right away, if he’s going to tell his friends or wait until you’re a little far along in the friendship to do so. 

You have to ask him if he wants to tell your parents like… Ever. You’re not so sure you even want to. 

But he shuffles and moves until his naked chest is against yours and his hands are around your body, chin resting on the top of your head as he yawns. 

There’s this feeling of calmness that washes over you as you consider that, maybe, this can be the way you fall asleep from now on. No sleeping or sleepless nights, just Yunho’s embrace and his steady breathing above you, the beat of his heart, a lullaby that lulls you until your eyes are closing and tiredness takes over your senses. 

This time, you dream about a future together and nothing more. 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and please remember the next part it's much shorter and would be the end of this mini series!

© jensthwa, 2025.

[fl3shm4id3n]

Can u pls make a thanos x reader smut where the reader and him take the pills and fuck in the squid game bathroom?

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: SMUT, taking substances/drugs, under the influence type sex, swearing, public bathroom sex, dry humping, a bit of eating out, unprotected sex (if you're gonna get silly, wrap your willy), kissing/making out, biting, titty grabbing, slight choking.

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

Ever since you and Thanos had arrived at the games, all you've ever done was literally have sex in the women's bathroom on your free time. Not only that, but you'd also take drugs that you both kept in your matching cross necklaces. They'd be times where you'd both take a pill from each other's crosses as a form of rationing and such. When Nam Gyu had pestered Thanos into giving him pills. You either took less and managed to cut the pills in half.

That evening after the mingle game, you had gone to the bathroom. After a few minutes, Thanos had also needed to use the bathroom. As soon as he entered the women's bathroom, he pounced on you and attacked your lips with his. You quickly followed and processed to kiss him. It was harsh and aggressive, you had taken a pill a few minutes prior and so did he. You both wanted to be ready for when the time came.

Thanos damn near slammed you against the wall, you didn't mind at all. You enjoyed a little pain. You felt how his hand creeped up to your chest and grabbed your breast, giving them desperate and oddly satisfying squeeze. You loved it when he grabbed your breasts, that was enough to get you dripping. You gasped against his lips as you felt him pinch your nipples. That made Thanos chuckle, squeezing your breasts even more. You couldn't help but moan and squeeze your thighs together. You could feel how easily you were getting wet and Thanos knew it.

Then Thanos pulled away from you, guiding you over to the silk and slightly pushed your upper body down. You got a grip on the silk, feeling how Thanos kissed the back of your neck, while he grabbed your breasts from behind. You let out a small sigh, feeling how his boner was now rubbing against your ass and clothed pussy. "Stop teasing and fuck me already!" You growled, you couldn't take it anymore. You needed him inside you, now.

"Oh! Needy are we? I always liked that about you!" He growled softly against your ear. He then pulled down your pants and panties down to your ankles, then spread your legs wider. "Damn." He hissed, seen how you were practically dripping. He got down on his knees and processed to devour your pussy. You held tightly onto the sink as you felt Thanos tongue on your clit and his mouth lapping at your soaking pussy. "Thanos!" You moaned, throwing your head back as he continued to suck and lick at your pussy. He growled and moaned against your folds. You felt his tongue hits all kinds of spots inside you. It felt good, it always felt good. It didn't matter whether it was his fingers, mouth, tongue or cock. Thanos always knew how to make you feel good.

Finally, Thanos pulled away, a string of your juices and saliva were attached on his lips and yours. He then got back up and pulled his pants down with his boxers. He cock now free, he got a hold of it and he spat right on it. Both his saliva and juices together, were now coating his shaft. He stroked himself a few times and he pushed himself inside you like a glove. "Fuck!" You screamed, you wanted this, you missed this, you couldn't live with out it.

Thanos then got a hold of your biceps and just thrusted, like a there was no tomorrow. He just thrusted his hips, fast and hard. Your skin and his slapped each other harshly. Causing the sound to echo in the bathroom walls, mixed with your desperate and needy moans. He let go of your biceps, then pulled your body close so that your back was on his chest. He kissed and nibbled at your neck, while on arm held your waist, the other was grabbing at your breast again. He is such a tits guy. No matter what or how, his hand would always be on your breasts.

He then let go of your waist, then his hand wrapped itself around your neck. Giving it a small and gentle squeeze, that made you squeeze around him. He knew how much you liked getting choked while he was railing you. His thrusts got harder, he just pounded in you as if nothing. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head at this point, slowly you felt dense and soon to pass out. You didn't even notice when Thanos hand went down to your clit and began to give it harsh rubs. You slightly flinched once you felt his hand in motion on your clit.

Finally after a few more thrusts, you felt your orgasm hit you like a like. As you came, so did Thanos. You felt how his hot seed began to fill you to the brim. It was hot, everything around you was hot. From your skin, his skin, the air. Everything. You tried to catch your breath, but it was a bit hard too. Thanos then let go of your throat and looked at you. "You okay?" He asked, while you somewhat nodded. He smiled, then gave you a soft kiss on the cheekbone, down to your cheek and neck. His purple hair tickled your cheek, making you giggle. "Another?" He asked, giving you those puppy eyes he normally does when he wants to suck on your tits. You smiled at him. "You know the answer to that." You said, teasingly. Yes, the answer was always yes.

[livelaughlou]

okay, since an attempt at fluff was made by my lil angst fiend @cjlouwho, I'm honoring the parameters of our bet. Here's some angst. I would like you guys to know that my soul hurts after this and I'm gonna go back to writing day 4 of bucktommyfluffebruary immediately.

Ordinarily, Buck loves the sound of Tommy's breathing. He will always remember late nights, Tommy breathing into his ear words of love and adoration and early morning breathy laughs into his neck as Buck prepares breakfast. Now, though....well, now, it's torture.

Buck cups his face and listens to the labored breaths coming from Tommy's mouth, the slight coughs that make blood spots litter his lips. He wants to tune it out, he wants to not be here at all, but neither of those things can happen.

"Buck-" Tommy rasps, coughing again, but the 'Buck' is the worst sound, because he knows what that means, the same way Tommy used it last year when he ran away scared. He also remembers the promises Tommy made when they got back together that he would never use it again.

But they never expected to be here, in this broken wreck of a car at the bottom of some ravine in the middle of nowhere, and this is Tommy trying to distance himself, he can't run...but he can try to make it hurt less, though both of them know that this can't hurt less now. They're beyond that.

"Don't," Buck snaps. "Don't you dare. We go out, we go out as us, do you hear me? Evan and Tommy."

Tommy nods and his eyes flutter. "...love you."

Buck chokes on a sob. "I love you too. They're coming, okay? They're coming."

His own chest hurts and he knows it has nothing to do with heartbreak. He's pretty sure he broke a couple of ribs in the crash and one of them is close to puncturing a lung...but Tommy, Tommy's lips are turning blue, he's not getting enough oxygen, he's more important...god, he's so important.

"They're coming," he keeps saying, over and over, because what other choice does he have? He's hugging Tommy's head into his neck as Tommy goes limp and he can feel himself fading fast, try as he might.

"They're coming."

He hopes, he hopes, he hopes.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ F*ck me all night, show me who you are❞

superbat x ftm!reader | p*rn with no plot, nsfw, fluff, established relationship, one-shot | reader has had top surgery and significant bottom growth | sub. bttm. reader | | wc: 3.2K

warnings: oral sex (r! receiving), dirty talk, squirting, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as cock/dick/member. terms like boypussy, cunt, pussy, hole, cocksleeve are used), unprotected sex, d/s dynamics, pattinson!bruce wayne and corenswet!clark kent

author’s note: this is all @nouearth’s fault btw, lmao. Also, this was posted 2-weeks earlier on my Patreon, if you'd like to support me, please feel free to check it out!

listening to ▸ Pornstar by Ness Barret

There was nowhere else you belonged other than here. Sprawled on the mahogany desk of Bruce Wayne’s at-home office, the crackling wood in the fireplace cast shadows across the rich dark woods and semi-covered oil paintings of older Waynes patriarchs. The heavy curtains were drawn but no light made its way through — Gotham City’s weather was as dreary and cosy as always with its pitter-patter of rain and soothing rumbles of thunder in gloomy clouds.

Your legs were spread wide — just the way Bruce preferred. Your thighs tense and tremble as you press your hips down, trying hard not to buck. His thumb soothed circles to the side of your waist, his tongue dipping between your folds like a languid cat. It’s a game he enjoyed. Bringing you closer and closer to that edge of ecstasy then leaving you hanging there — practically teetering over.

It’s not completely his fault. Even if he did want to make you cum — which he does — he wasn’t allowed. He’d agreed with Clark after all that you weren’t allowed to cum if both of them weren’t present. You had been smug initially. Confident in your ability to sway Bruce and Clark’s desires, making them bend to your whims with a few well-timed gasps and whines. You truly underestimated how strong-willed your lovers were.

“Bruce, please” your lips were wet with spit and that damned gloss that’d gotten you in trouble. Smeared across your cheek, chin, and Bruce’s thick cock.

“Hm?” he groaned, not even lifting his head as his nose bumped into your twitching cock. Bruce flattened his tongue against your tip and wrapped his glossy lips around it. The sensation makes you bring your heels to the edge of the table, so Bruce uses his strength to hold your hips firmly.

“Bruce — Bruce! I’m so close, please let me cum.”

What sweet sounds, Clark thinks as he lands quietly on Bruce’s balcony. The stone gargoyles and intricate architecture greet him and perhaps it’s due to how many times he’s found himself here but he thinks they’re beginning to look friendlier rather than intimidating. Even with the rain pelting down on them and thunder rumbling in the clouds. Gotham’s weather was a stark contrast to Metropolis City’s sunny self but Clark didn’t mind it.

The balcony door handle gives no hitch or resistance, Clark grins as he slips inside. He had told Bruce that he’d try to make it time for a stay-in dinner with their boyfriend but made no promises. Naturally, Bruce had sent him a voice-recorded message of your rapid panting and choked-up gasps. The unlocked balcony doors of Bruce Wayne’s manor were just his way of preening at being right.

You fluttered your eyes open at the smell of rain and sunshine. He smiles down at you, his eyes warm and soft as always as he braces his hands next to your head.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you go limp when Bruce finally pulls his head away from between your thighs. 

“You’re late,” Bruce mumbles as he brushed his thumb over his lower lip, sucking off your slick after he slipped it between them.

“You didn’t exactly wait, Bruce” Clark retorted lightheartedly, cupping your face and brushing his thumb down your warm cheeks. 

“Look at this poor thing.”

When he cooed at you like you were some poor farm animal – you found yourself getting more and more aroused. Bruce could see how you clenched around nothing at it. It amused the dark knight, he brushed his rough palms on your thighs and you groaned softly, bringing your knees together to deny him the pleasure of teasing you. He arches a brow pointedly but you refuse to glance his way, turning your head to place a sweet kiss on Clark’s palm instead. 

“You sure you want to play that game, honey?” Clark is still upside down from your view, that cute little curl against his forehead bouncing lightly as he tilts his head. “You know how Mr Wayne gets when you try to be a brat.”

Bruce scoffs at Clark’s teasing. “He clearly gets that streak from you,” he grabs Clark’s chin and they share a loving kiss above you. The sight alone caused excitement to spread throughout, it was such a funny thing humans did — the rush of blood and endorphins that washed over them like a wave. With his heightened senses, it was something he caught on easily during interviews, though he tried his best not to be too invasive in normal situations. But when it came to you and Bruce, it was an instinctual pull to know what was happening to the both of you. When he found himself missing you too much, Clark would slip his eyes closed and just hone in on the sounds of your heartbeats. That steady thumping would never fail to make him feel comforted. He chuckles, the kind that’s almost steeped with sweet condescension and pulls away from Bruce’s lips to glance down at you. 

You with your furrowed brows and pouted lips that were smeared with gloss with your hair sticking to your forehead thanks to Bruce’s talented mouth. 

“Does he? I think he gets it from you.”

You peel your back off the table to sit, huffing and puffing as you bring your legs down and stretch your toes out.

“Stop trying to give yourselves credit for my brattiness, I put a lot of effort into it, okay?”

You flatten your hands across Bruce’s chest then push him to sit down on his leather chair. Push was a strong word — he allowed you to unceremoniously guide him to be seated while you tried to stand on shaky legs. Clark admires the view of your naked body as you sit on Bruce’s lap, spreading your legs and calling out his name so sweetly.

“You get so brave when he’s here, hm?” Bruce holds onto your hips, tilting it forward so Clark would have easier access. “Gonna make a mess all over my pants like a bitch in heat again?”

You lean back into him, brushing your teeth against his chin as you grin at him. “You can’t afford the dry cleaning, Brucie?”

Clark nearly guffaws at your bravado. Mere minutes ago you were nearly sobbing as you begged for Bruce’s mercy. Hoping to make him cave into his desire for you and yet here you are now, shamelessly using his lap as a seat while you stroked your twitching cock and spread your legs for Clark. 

Still, in his blue and red outfit, Clark shamelessly kneels on the floor in front of you. He politely pulls his cape onto his lap and presses a kiss to your dick. You were already so sensitive, it was enough to have your thighs twitching. Clark peers up at you, his long dark lashes framing those sweet grey-blue eyes and warning you silently to keep those legs open for him. 

Clark spreads your cunt open with two fingers, groaning softly as he slips his tongue inside of you. You bite down on your lip just as he slips his eyes closed. The taste of you never fails to make his cock chub up, even in this honourable suit that he uses to save lives. It was your gift — your power. He swears every part of you makes his world continue to spin.

When he focuses on you just enough, he can see every part of you ��� even those invisible to all. He had used his supervision for plenty of things before, looking through buildings or checking what people hide under their jackets, but there was one time Bruce had intrigued him with a new fact. 

Clark had been working on a new piece in Bruce’s library — because that's something most wealthy folks had in their homes apparently — and stumbled across a picture. Bruce glanced over as Clark hummed inquiringly, and said; “Blaschko's lines.”

“Is it a skin condition?” Bruce shook his head, turning his attention back to his research. Alfred had called him a stubborn mule for it, what with him still being wrapped with bandages around his torso and practically being covered with minor injuries from his motorcycle stunt. Clark assured Alfred he’d keep an eye on the brooding Batman while he continued to work in the library, fluffing up every pillow before Bruce walked in. 

“All humans have them, they’re just invisible to the naked eye most of the time.”

“So humans have stripes?” Clark sees Bruce contemplate his question but he ultimately gives nothing more than a gruff hum and turns his attention back to his highly confidential files.

Bruce’s skin patterns were gorgeous. It spread from his spine, like the roots of a tree or the veins in the leathery wings of a bat backdropped by light — Bruce always wondered why Clark loved to trace his lips down the curve of his back and Clark would never tell him that its because he’s admiring this secret on Bruce’s skin. 

He strokes over the pattern of your skin with his thumb. What you think was mindless shapes had always just been Clark admiring your ‘stripes’, committing it to memory and relishing that only he knew what his mate's patterns were. He gently pressed down on your thighs, groaning as he brushes his teeth against your dick. 

“Did you like the audio file I sent you?” Bruce fondled at your chest, pinching your nipples as he worried over your neck and shoulders. You try to arch your back but he firmly presses you flat to his chest, trailing his tongue to the curve of your ear. 

“I almost opened it in an elevator,” Clark muttered as he slipped his fingers inside of you. You swallowed them up eagerly, already so wet and warm from Bruce’s languid and tortuous session with you. Two, then three, the Kryptonian is patient while he pushes past his first knuckle and second and finally until he reaches the base. You’re so close — you’re clamping on his fingers like a vice, practically pushing him out while you panted and squirmed. The wet spot on Bruce’s bulge made him chuckle. 

Bruce groaned appreciatively as Clark squeezed at it with his other hand. So good with his hands, like a true farm boy. 

“That would’ve been fun,” you groaned out with a loose grin. 

“No, it wouldn’t.” Clark flushed up at the very thought of it. Letting other people hear your whorish noises didn’t rub him the right way either. 

“You’re so naughty,” his words made you coo. You reach for his handsome face, guiding it until he’s leaned over you and Bruce while his hands are still between both of his mate’s legs. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and when you stroke over his chin you giggle at the slickness that coats him there too. 

“You love me anyway. You love me too, don’t you, Brucie?” 

That wasn’t something either of them could deny. You turn back to Bruce, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheeks before he presses his lips to yours, when Clark leans in he huffs in amusement but gives him as well. 

Clark slips his fingers out, earning a sigh from you, and unclips his cape. 

“Let’s get to somewhere more comfortable so I can make both of you cum, yeah?” 

“Clark’s naughty too!” You muse out, relying on Bruce for support as he curls an arm around your waist while he stands. 

“Guess you rubbed off your pervertedness on him,” Bruce chuckled lowly into your ear. You aren’t ashamed of this at all, nearly purring in delight at his astute observations. 

Clark shakes his head, focusing on the task of tossing the plush cushions and throwing pillows on the carpet in front of the fireplace. With a flourish, he dries and places his cape over the makeshift bed. Bruce lays you down, settling on your left side while he takes off his loose black shirt, relishing in the way your eyes drink him in. 

You tenderly flatten your palm against his chest, brushing over his chest hair and tracing it down to the happy trail he has. You loosen his belt and Bruce watches you as you undo the zipper next. It’s strange for him — to need as much as he does now. Bruce knows he shouldn’t pride himself on someone who didn’t find the necessity of relationships — whether it be platonic or romantic. Other than Alfred, everything and everyone else had been superficial. Especially at the beginning of his career as Gotham’s Dark Knight where he had nearly abandoned his Bruce Wayne identity in the public eye. 

Then Clark and you came into his world. Almost serendipitously. It wasn’t easy for the three of you, he’ll admit he didn’t make it easy with his standoffish nature. But you were determined to show him what love was like — what being in love would be like. 

To protect the people he loved, to have a chance to protect them in the first place. 

Clark settles on your right, now naked as he’s kissing your shoulder. Bruce gives a low moan when you begin stroking his cock, giving both of you a show because he never wants you to take your eyes off him. He loves this, he loves you, he loves Clark. 

Bruce’s body is a masterpiece. Years of hard work and dedication etched into him — carved even. When he sucks in a breath, his abs contract and the veins on his arms and neck seem to stand out much more. He’d turned his body into a weapon and here he was, pliant and willing for Clark and you. 

Clark’s stomach is softer than Bruce’s, the definition of his abs not that prominent but it’s still firm as he presses it to your back — his cock rubbing between your ass as he slowly ruts his hips against you. 

“Please,” they both flutter their eyes open as you plead. “Please fuck me.”

Clark presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, nodding as he reaches for Bruce’s hips. He kicks off his pants fully, his chest hair tickling your chest as he presses close. It’s bliss to be between them like this. The comforting pressure on your front and back causes a rush of endorphins, making your brain go fuzzy. You’re in their care, at their mercy, and there was no other way you wanted it. 

Clark lifts your leg, supporting it as Bruce slides inside of your cunt. 

You’re squeezing his cockhead tight enough to have him hissing through his teeth, but he persists. You’re strung tight from their teasing, their edging, and now you’re barely keeping it together as Bruce presses more of his big dick inside of you. It’s such a marvel, with its curved shape and the delicate mole just under his head — when he fully sheathed inside of you, you swear you can feel him nudging parts of you no one had ever done before. 

Bruce thrusts and you mewl, gripping his shoulders as Clark rubs patterns into your thigh, his dick practically pulsing against your ass.

“B-both inside, God please both of you inside of me please.”

Clark’s careful as he smears some lube onto his cock, Bruce always hid one or two bottles in each room, and then so very carefully he nudges your hole. God, he’s thick. Your jaw aches just remembering how difficult it was to keep all your spit in your mouth while stretched around him.

You’re panting between them, a sheen of sweat already forming despite the rain pattering outside — the fireplace was making your skin glow, turning you into this ethereal vision of pure lust as if you were some modern-day god of eroticism. You might as well be, what with your two lovers on either side. Gods of justice and hope keeping you safe and fulfilled. 

Clark groans out Bruce’s name as he inches in. “Your dick feels so good rubbing against mine, oh shit,” he’s holding onto Bruce’s plump ass, hitching his body closer and making all of you moan. 

“Clark, ah fuck,” Bruce’s composure is melting away. Your warm velvety insides, your mewling, Clark’s groans of pleasure, his dick against Bruce’s — he was just a man, nobody could fault him for succumbing to his desires. 

When they’re both fully sheathed inside, you’re impossibly full, the sensation causing you to gasp and cum. Bruce and Clark grunt as you twitch around them, practically milking them as you jerk and shiver. When you go limp on Superman’s cape, they let you have a moment to breathe — your chest raising and falling rapidly like a rabbit’s as you make a wanton albeit strangled noise. 

“You’re doing so good for us,” Bruce says. Clark makes a sound of agreement, brushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead as they both patiently wait for your cue. 

“So good, taking both of us in like a good boy, our good boy. Our perfect cocksleeve.” 

Bruce’s words make you whine. He’s so good at making you sink deeper into that submissive state with just his words. That bastard, you think with a fond expression on your face. 

You sigh softly, fluttering your eyes closed as you stretch your back on the cape and plush pillows. 

They set the pace. Slow and deep at first, easily falling into a tandem rhythm. As Bruce thrusts in, Clark thrusts out — never giving you a moment of reprieve despite their gentle kisses and touches. The sounds coming out of your mouth are pure erotica. The sweat beading on your skin is being licked off by Clark while Bruce is determined to create a collar of hickeys on your neck. He places it high — guess it’s turtleneck season for you after this. 

Clark is always careful with his strength, he’s calculative with every pound of pressure he uses. So when you feel him tighten his grip on your thighs, you know it’s purposeful. He loves leaving his marks on you and Bruce, knowing how the both of you go wild for it. 

“You getting close, darling?” Clark grins dopily at Bruce, loving the face of concentration he has. Bruce nods, his dark hair now messy and sticking to his forehead as his hips stutter. “What about you, honey?”

You squeak, choking on a scream as you leave red welts on Bruce’s chest and grip onto Clark’s cape. 

The man of steel chuckles, picking up the pace as he kisses you, stealing your breath away from you as he pounds up into you. “Clark — ah - Clark,” hearing Bruce call out to him like that makes him even more reinvigorated. The both of them are beginning to lose the rhythm they set, now rutting into you with one goal in mind; to mark your insides with white.

Clark cums first, and Bruce follows shortly after and you’re not even sure if you’re cumming anymore. You whimper as globs of their cum manage to escape you, staining Superman’s red cape with white. 

“I can’t feel my legs,” you say between your panting. They laugh, soothingly running their hands down your body as you ease down from their rough treatment. 

“Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place, honey? Acting like a brat, being so naughty?”

You harrumphed, hiding your face in Bruce’s chest which just makes both of them laugh harder. 

[starrihan]

could you write jay and jungw sharing y/n🙏🏾

-> Pairing: Jay x afab! Reader x Jungwon

-> Plot: your need for a roommate leads you to meeting Jungwon who always brings his friend Jay around

-> Genre: smut, 3some, jay is kind of a sleeze, shy jungwon, squirting, use of nicknames (baby girl), oral (m receiving), fingering, nipple play, kissing, orgasm denial, piv sex, creampie (always use protection!!), drooling

-> Warnings: none

-> Word Count: 2,205

-> Notes: you guys deliver quick I’m so happy to write requests 🤩🤩🤩 disclaimer tho this is my first 3some fic so please bear with me. also since this is a very broad ask please let me know if anything in this fic bothered you or wasn’t what you were expecting, I’m simply writing based on what I was given~ (not proofread)

༄ ༄ ༄

okay so im imagining a roommate type situation.

like Jungwon is your roomate who has his friend Jay over a lot so you slowly start getting acquainted to him too. you had advertised needing a roommate to help pay for rent. you weren't expecting a response so quick but jungwon jumped at the oppertunity and you didn't mind as long as he was clean and not a freak (at least one of those things is true.)

so there is born a new friendship, and roommate-ship between you and jungwon. you guys would hang out sometimes, often eating dinner together and watching a movie since you both got home from work or school around the same time. you kept to yourself a lot, not that he minded since he did too. but one day he asked if it was okay for him to bring friends over, which you happily allowed. that was the day you met Jay and a couple of his other friends. while he hung out with all of them, he hung out with Jay the most.

usually when he had his friends over, you stayed in your room, not wanting to bother them. sometimes they'd bring food back for you to which you were very thankful and you would eat with them. then you'd retreat back to your room for the rest of the night. you didn't know that you had caught Jay's eye. one time after eating dinner with them, you went back to your room like normal, thanking them for the food.

"yo, you ever hit that?"

cue jungwon almost choking on his food.

"what??? thats my roommate Jay, no."

"what? she's hot. can I have her if you won't?"

"I guess? i don't think she wants you though. she would've mentioned to me if she did."

jungwon had never seen you in that way before, but after seeing how Jay was talking about getting with you, he'd start to notice you a bit more. how smooth your legs always looked. how full your chest looked in your shirt. how nice your thighs and ass looked in those leggings. how it was so hard for him to control his boner around you. he wanted to curse Jay for bringing your sexiness to his attention. he never acted on it though. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or worse, be kicked out of the apartment. that didn’t stop Jay from making comments about you to him every so often.

༄ ༄ ༄

there’s one weekend where Jungwon was going to go on a trip with his friends. they were only going to be a couple hours away and they even invited you out as well, but you declined, preferring a relaxing weekend alone instead. of course they respected your wishes and left soon after. a little bit into their drive away, Jay realizes that he has left his wallet in Jungwon’s room and needed to go back to get it. they all head back and wait in the car while Jungwon and Jay go back inside.

you, having been home alone for about 30 minutes by now, didn’t know that they would be coming back. you wasted no time taking off your pants, finally being able to touch yourself without needing to hold back your moans. naturally due to your little whines and grunts, you don’t hear the front door open.

your noises alert the two males, going to check on you to make sure you’re fine before finally heading out. since you were home alone you felt no need to close your bedroom door, which just so happened to be down the hall from Jungwon’s. one peek inside your room was all it took for them to realize what was going on, you frozen in place like a deer in headlights.

they look at each other, Jungwon holding a shocked expression while Jay’s is the opposite, a crooked smirk appearing on his face.

“my, my, look what we have here.”

shocked and embarrassed can’t even begin to describe your emotions right now. your whole face is flushed red, body limp yet frozen, too shocked to even try to cover yourself up.

“w-what are you guys doing here?”

finally coming to, you grab the blanket closest to you, throwing it over your lower half to cover yourself. Jay’s smirk doesn’t fade as he walks up to you.

“no need to cover yourself up darling, we’ve already seen the goods.”

you didn’t want to admit how extremely hot you found Jay. despite the embarrassment you were currently feeling, a new wave of need was hitting you with every step closer he took. he would trace his fingers over your arm, which was still under the blanket as you were using it to get off. he would look back over to Jungwon whose sporting a painfully obvious boner.

“look at Jungwon, he’s hard from just seeing you like this. maybe you could help us out?”

you look between the two men, confused and turned on beyond belief. Jay helps your nerves, beckoning Jungwon over before placing a hand under your chin, tilting your head to the side so he has better access to you neck. once you feel his lips on your neck, you throw your head back, gasps leaving you mouth the closer her gets to your sweet spot.

Jungwon is on the other side of you, nervous as he reaches his hands around your waist, feeling up your curves and chest. you relax into their touch, getting off on the attention they're giving you as your hand resumes its previous task, 2 fingers delving in and out of your hole.

"such a dirty girl, getting off to the two of us touching you"

Jay tsks, replacing your hand with his own, using two of his fingers to help you out. Jungwon, pent up already, pulls his pants down to reveal his raging boner, tip red and angry. you waste no time wrapping your wet fingers around his length, slowly pumping as he sighs out of relief. Jungwon entangles his hands in your hair, leaning down to capture your lips as Jay continues his movements, following your neck as you kiss Jungwon.

you moan as Jay hits a particular spot your short fingers normally have trouble reaching, gasping into Jungwon's mouth as you pump him faster. Jay's nibbling at your neck, increasing his speed as he feels your walls clench around his fingers. you can't help the gush of liquid that comes out of you, soaking the blanket and Jay's hand.

"fuck, you're so hot"

you pull away from Jungwon to kiss Jay, hand pumping faster on Jungwon as he bucks his hips into your hand, pinching and playing with your nipples under your shirt. your moans don't stop, and that keeps them both going as Jay whips the blanket off of you. both men climb into the bed with you. you pull away from Jay as Jungwon helps you take your shirt off, placing your hand back on his length as soon as you're free from the material. Jay takes his pants off in the meantime, watching your tits bounce freely out of the shirt.

"mind if I have her first Won? I've been waiting for this,"

you look up at him, eyes pleading with him to just be in you already. Jungwon nods his head at the older, biting back moans as he tries not to cum just yet. Jay repositions himself to be in between your legs, lifting one of them up onto his shoulder as he rubs his tip against your folds, lubing himself up with your slick.

"ready baby girl?"

you nod like a madman, ready to have him fully inside you. you turn your head to jungwon, seeing his eyes screw shut as he's on the brink of release, and you pull your hand away. the loud whine from his throat is proabably the hottest thing you've ever heard.

"mouth..."

is all you can muster before Jungwon gets the memo, kneeling before you, inching his cock into your open mouth as Jay finally pushes in. the simultaneous moans from the 3 of you are loud, echoing throughout the house. you're trying your best to suck him off at this angle, drool spilling past your lips and down your chin, making its way down the rest of his length. Jay's pounding into you, soft at first but gradually getting more rough as you adjust to his size. the added finger rubbing your clit has you bucking your hips into his thrusts, and your mouth taking Jungwon in deeper.

your orgasms are all quickly approaching, not really trying to hold back as the pleasure grows too much for the 3 of you. Jungwon cums first and harder than you had expected, having denied his orgasm once before. you almost choke trying to swallow his load, scooping up any of his cum that slipped past your lips back into your mouth, savoring every last drop.

you cum next, moaning loud as your hips push into Jay's thrusts, walls fluttering around his length, causing him to release inside of you. you struggle to catch your breath as Jungwon pulls you into another kiss, relaxing a bit as Jay helps you ride out your orgasm. they both pull away from your spent body, exchanging looks before switching spots.

"w-what are you guys doing?'

you're half delirious, confused as to whats going on.

"I had my turn, now it's Jungwon's turn to be in you."

he turns to Jungwon,

"she's so tight, its the best feeling ever."

Jungwon smirks, confidence coursing through his body as he sees how exhausted you look.

"I can't wait,"

he positions himself between your legs, already hard again at the thought of being in you finally. he winces as he brings his tip up to your wet slit that's leaking both yours and Jay's cum, still a little sensitive from his prior release.

"please, it's too much... s-sensitive..."

your broken words only fuel him more.

"you can take a little more for us can't you?"

Jay says, smiling up at Jungwon, who finally pushes himself into your walls. Jungwon runs his hands up and down your body, soothing you of your overstimulation, Jay reaching his hand down to toy with your clit yet again. you buck your hips into them, so fucked out that you fail to produce a moan, mouth hanging open. Jay looks at you, taking his finger that were previously on your clit and bringing them up to your mouth.

"suck."

he commands. your eyes are rolled back into your head as you close your mouth on his fingers, coating his fingers with your saliva as he brings his free hand down to pump his length. your orgasm is approaching quickly as Jungwon continues to bully your hole. he can tell by the way you're frantically bucking your hips to meet his thrusts, losing your pace as spill all over him.

Jay's hands are moving quick on himself, cumming all over your pelvis and stomach as he empties himself. Jungwon takes the chance to bring both of your legs over his shoulders, pounding relentlessly as he's on the verge of cumming. the pleasure is slowly being replaced by pain, the overstimulation becoming too much. Jay can see the way your face contorts, releasing his fingers from your mouth and placing soft kisses on your neck.

"just a little more baby, hang on a little longer."

you nod, too fucked out to properly comprehend what his words mean. its at that point when Jungwon's hips finally stall, ropes of cum painting your walls as he empties every last drop in you. he pulls out slowly, and you whine, half at the loss of feeling full and half out of relief. he watches as the cum from all 3 of you slowly spills out, taking his finger and pushing it back into you. you arch your back and moan and the boys look at each other, smiling and laughing at your spent state.

they both lay on either side of you, silent and breath ragged as you all try to calm down. the air is heavy with the smell of sex but comforting nonetheless. once you've come back to your senses, you look at the 2 boys, remembering the trip they were supposed to go on.

"what are you guys doing here? i thought you were supposed to be on your trip?"

they look at each other, first looking scared realizing that they left their friends waiting outside for them, but then laughing.

"Jay left his wallet here so we came back to get it. they probably drove off without us already because we were taking too long."

Jungwon shrugs, getting up to grab his phone to check the many messages from their group chat confirming exactly what he said.

"whatever. we can go on another trip whenever we want. but this is more fun, right Y/N?"

you look at Jay, laughing at his implications, not yet worrying about what all this between the 3 of you could mean. they both look at you, smiling fondly at your next words.

"round 2?"

༄ ༄ ༄

JayWon have been WRECKING me these days! this ask was just scrumptious 🤤

[mommyownsmee]

I want you to choke me whilst you fuck me senselessly, I also want to hear your voice as I reach my climax, Mommy. The hottest thing Mommy could do to me is talk me through it. I need you so bad Mommy, but I'll be your good girl and won't cum until you say so.

—🐻<3

You say you want me to choke you while I fuck you senseless, but do you even know what you’re asking for, princess?

Because if I wrap my hand around your throat, if I squeeze just enough to make your breath stutter, your pulse hammering against my palm—you won’t be thinking anymore. You won’t be able to do anything except take what I give you. And I will give it to you, won’t I? I’ll press you down, spread you open, drag my fingers through how soaking wet you already are for me.

I’ll make you feel every inch of it, stretching you, filling you, making you take me deeper until you’re shaking underneath me. And when I start fucking you, I want to hear you try to beg with my hand tight around your throat, your voice coming out in little gasps, desperate, helpless.

And you’re a good girl, aren’t you? You know better than to cum without permission. Even when I start fucking you harder, when my grip on your throat tightens just a little more, when my voice is right there in your ear, telling you exactly what a mess you are for me—you’ll hold it. You’ll take it. You’ll obey.

You’ll wait for me to tell you to cum. I’ll growl in your ear, Now, baby, let go—I want to feel it. I want you clenching around me, shaking beneath me, gasping my name like it’s the only thing left in your mind. I want you ruined. Wrecked. Completely, helplessly wrecked.

[ariadne-mouse]

For the "I wish you would write a fic where…" I don't know if this counts because it's not a new fic, but:

"Was? Essek? I thought you were out of town?"

Caleb wakes up with obsidian flakes of a'a in his hair and and no memory of the last few years. His very-new boyfriend has adopted his cat, there's a court case for his attemped murder, and he might have been a ghost?

A followup to The Fire Kept Closest, from Caleb's POV, filling in the timejump to the epilogue.

Thank you for the ask! It took me a minute to get to this ask game, but here we are. I am not writing exactly to the prompt, but I hope you like this 830-word slice of post-fic Volcaleb nonetheless!

-

"I would like to go, I think."

Essek paused where he had just gathered a scoop of cat kibble. The awaiting dish lay on the floor, empty. "Are you sure?"

"Ja," Caleb answered. He folded the local newspaper he had been reading in half, the headline visible: Corporate Clash: Cerberus takes the stand. "I know it's best my situation stays out of the spotlight, at least for now, but I want him to see me. To see my face, and know that I know." His expression darkened. "I want him to sweat."

At Essek's feet, Frumpkin yowled his impatience, unaware of corporations, or bureaucracy, or indeed the significance of newspapers beyond the fact that they were sometimes fun to sit on.

"Calm down, calm down," Essek tutted, and gave the beast his meal. He smoothed a hand down Frumpkin's back, thinking. "I'll go with you, if you really want to go."

Caleb smiled grimly. "Danke. I would like that. But I have an idea, also - you can help."

-

Vence Nuthaleus cleaned up well in a suit, and he knew it. It was unfortunate that the volcano on Rumblecusp had popped its top as soon as it had, but he was still safely ensconced in respectability - and more importantly, plausible deniability. Research was only as good as records available, and his land use recommendation report had been scientifically sound with the data from the island's active seismometer network.

It didn't even alarm him that he was playing a kind of mutually assured destruction game with Cerberus. They wanted to publicly shed him as a "bad actor", especially convenient given his contractor status - but if they did, he'd reveal they had been the ones to disconnect the last seismometer. He had enough leverage in writing to make the accusation compelling, and they knew it. The thing they might most want to pin on him... well, they didn't have any evidence of that. All told, it was in Cerberus's best interest to protect him. And so he wore his most approachable suit, and a polite smile, and answered questions as earnestly as he could when he was on the stand. Mardoon Estate only wanted money, after all, and Cerberus certainly had plenty of that. Vence didn't need to be scapegoat for it all to work out eventually.

The courtroom around him was full for the spectacle. The door creaked open every so often as the gawkers and media came and went, like bees buzzing on a hive. He sometimes saw familiar faces from the island: Dr. Vilya, Beauregard, Thelyss. Today the last of these was sitting in one of the back rows by himself, glaring at Vence like he always did when he was there. Too bad; being a stuck-up trust fund baby wouldn't help Thelyss here.

It was some minutes before Vence's attention was drawn by a spot in the standing room in the back that had not moved at all for some time. Even as his mouth answered the current question on autopilot, his eyes were drawn to look at the vacuum of stillness.

A dead man was looking back at him.

Vence's words curdled in his throat, choking his breath.

He was there. Caleb Widogast was there, standing among the throng.

"Mr. Nuthaleus?" prompted the examiner.

"I... I..."

The ghost - it could only be a ghost - stared at him with those eerie blue eyes, unblinking. He was dressed like he had been, for a hike on the mountain. There was even a lightweight heatsuit half-zipped and tied around his waist.

He looked exactly like he had when he had died. When--

Vence couldn't pull his gaze away. "Could- could you repeat the question?"

The examiner repeated it, and again Vence did not hear.

Nearby, Thelyss was standing up. He favored Vence with a last look of contempt before making for the double doors. The crowd parted to let him pass, but Widogast did not move. And Thelyss... walked right past him, like he wasn't there.

A chill rolled down Vence's spine and his breathing came faster. He could hear a ringing noise, his vision was narrowing.

With effort, he turned a smile to the judge. "I'm sorry, I think I need a moment."

When he turned back, Caleb Widogast was gone.

-

Outside in the hallway, Essek leaned on the wall next to Caleb, who sat heavily on a bench. The heat suit was stuffed back into a bag.

"Feel any better?"

A muscle in Caleb's face twitched, and his hand balled in a fist. "A little. I don't know. Seeing him-" His breath left him in a gust. "It was harder than I expected."

Essek touched his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  "Come, then. Let's go. We can learn what happened later. Frumpkin is waiting for you at home."

This last tactic was always a surefire way to bring a little smile back to Caleb's face, and it proved to be so now.

“Ja,” Caleb agreed, straightening up.  “Let’s go home.”

[uceyliyahh]

CALL UP

summary: “Who you gon' run to when I'm gone?” Sianni went to the club with her friends completely ignoring Jey’s text messages showing out in front of her friends why? Bc she’s single ofc until he pulls up and puts her in her place.

warnings: toxic ex-boyfriend, unprotected sex, choking, daddy kink, dominance, cream-pie, baby doll, mama, toxic cycle, hair pulling, fluff at the end :)

word count: 3977

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @ctinadiva @duhitzkay380 @luuvprincess

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @theusotwinzcom @lilucey @raya-hunter01

Sianni

I was excitedly preparing to hit the club with my friends Bianca and Trinity, finally free from the toxic grip of Jey. It felt liberating to know I could do whatever I wanted. We had been stuck in a harmful cycle for far too long. Every time I confronted him about his questionable behavior, he would dismiss my concerns and label me as delusional for trusting what I saw online.

This time, things took a turn for the worse; it was one of the most intense arguments we’ve ever had in our relationship. I had come across a video of him at a club, where a girl was all over him while he chatted with someone else. At first, I brushed it off, but then I received a text from her, complete with screenshots and photos of them together. That shattered me, and in that moment, I realized our time together was coming to an end.

When he returned home from his tour, I confronted him about the situation. Instead of owning up to it, he started denying everything, claiming she was lying and that the screenshots and photos were fabricated. I couldn't believe it and rolled my eyes, refusing to entertain his nonsense any longer. It became clear to me that I needed to end things for good. I was tired of his manipulation and the way he made me feel like I was losing my mind over something he had actually done.

In the present moment, he has been bombarding me with messages and calls, but I refuse to engage. I won’t be fooled by his games again. I applied some lip gloss, rubbing my lips together to create that perfect “pop.” Just then, I heard a car honking outside. When I glanced out the window, I spotted Bianca and Trin arriving.

As I reached for my purse and keys, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, alerting me to another text message from Jey.

Stink💔 sent a message

Stink💔: Ayo Sianni yo’ ass better stop playing with me and come tf home yk them pictures were fake.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his message. He knows those screenshots and photos are genuine; he's just frustrated that he got caught once more. I'm exhausted from going around in circles with him on this issue, so I decided to send him a quick message before putting my phone away in my purse.

Mamas🩷: Jey leave me tf alone aight? You know them screenshots and photos of yall two together are real asf clear as day as a matter of fact I am single and I can do whatever I want so why don’t you go back to that hoe you was fucking and leave me alone.

Upon sending him that message, my phone buzzed once more, prompting a deep sigh as I noticed his reply appear on the screen.

Stink💔: single? Tuh girl yo’ ass is funny keep fucking with me yo’ ass better not be at the club tonight tell Trin and Bianca to drop you off over here now

Could he really be serious? I'm done with these mind games; he made his choice to cheat on me with someone from his own workplace.

Mamas🩷: Joshua you fucking heard me nigga I’m not repeating myself and I’m goin’ to the club either way because I’m fucking single 🙄

I stepped outside, securing the door behind me, and made my way to Bianca’s car. As I approached, she lowered the window, poked her head out, and waved enthusiastically at me.

“Heyyy girly you ready to get turnt up tonight!” Bianca exclaimed.

“Hell yeah! I needed this for real and Trin tell Jey to leave me alone please,” I said as I got in the backseat of Bianca’s car.

Trinity raised her hands, clearly wanting to distance herself from the chaos between me and her brother-in-law. "You need to sort that out with him," she advised, and I nodded in agreement, feeling my phone vibrating in my purse.

When I checked my phone, I saw three missed calls from him, and he was clearly losing it. On top of that, there were three messages waiting for me that completely took me by surprise.

three missed calls from Stink💔

Stink💔: bring yo’ ass home Sianni I’m not fucking playing with yo’ ass

Stink💔: I will pull up in the bitch a snatch yo’ little ass up and you won’t be having no type of fucking fun

Stink💔: acting fucking stupid for no fucking reason better not be shaking no ass you tryna be hoe huh?

Was it bad that I love this shit from him? Him being all aggressive and upset at me for breaking up with him and then heading to the club to act out? Yes it was toxic but did I care? Not really.

Mamas🩷: Joshua I don’t give a flying fuck what’chu yapping about my nigga all of this would’ve been avoided if you would’ve just said yes that you fucked her that’s all but no you want to be innocent and be fucking stupid.

Stink💔: Don’t fucking disrespect me Sianni I will fix all of that shit in a heartbeat and I told you none of them screenshots were real but you wanna listen to Jaida huh? You barely know her.

Mamas🩷: MAYBE she didn’t want me to look more stupid than I already do so how about you go fuck her Jey and leave me alone I told you I’m done

Stink💔: see there you go again being fucking stupid it’s okay I got something for that ass when I come snatch yo’ ass up keep on Sianni

Mamas🩷: I’m not goin back and forth with you nigga goodbye 🖕🏾

I tucked my phone away into my purse, letting out a deep sigh as I gazed out the window at the stars and the moon illuminating the night sky, hoping fervently that he wouldn’t arrive.

Bianca shouted above the pulsating beats of the club, "You two really need to mature! How much longer are you going to drag this out?"

"I genuinely care for him, but every time we seem to be in a good place, things take a turn for the worse when he starts acting sneaky." It’s incredibly frustrating. I decided to ignore his call and put my phone on do not disturb because I just couldn’t handle his drama tonight.

He could have simply admitted that he cheated on me during the times we were apart, especially since our long-distance relationship made it difficult to connect. I understood that being apart would be challenging, but this situation felt far worse than anything I had experienced before. Even when I reached out to him, his responses were often delayed, sometimes not coming until the afternoon. I tried to be patient and not pressure him about it, but everything changed when that girl, Jaida, sent me those screenshots and pictures of them together. It shattered me completely.

Addressing him about this issue or any other concerns I picked up from people online would lead him to dismiss everything as merely “work related.” I found that hard to accept and called him out on it, which only sparked intense arguments. He would manipulate the situation, leaving me in tears and forcing me to apologize. It was a relentless, toxic cycle that I was utterly exhausted by.

I longed for open communication and the reassurance I needed, but he never provided that. I reached my breaking point.

"All my single ladies, it's your time to shine!" The DJ called out into the mic, setting the stage for an electrifying moment as he seamlessly transitioned the music to TGIF by GloRilla.

Going to the club isn't about shedding tears over a guy who doesn't appreciate you or your feelings. It's about hitting the dance floor with your friends, letting loose, and enjoying life to the fullest. Embrace the night, forget your worries, and make unforgettable memories with your girls.

"Let’s have an unforgettable night and leave all our worries behind! I’m excited to be with you, my girls, since we don’t get to hang out nearly enough." With that, I downed a shot of Hennessy and made my way to the dance floor, ready to let loose.

I started dancing freely, not caring who was watching or what they thought. All that mattered was enjoying myself and letting go of the pain Jey had caused me. I was tired of the stress he brought into my life, and I was ready to embrace a good time without worrying about our relationship.

Bianca was clearly putting on a show for Trinity, and I couldn't help but laugh at their antics. Suddenly, I felt two hands gripping my hips, pulling me onto their lap. I playfully backed up against the guy behind me, moving my hips in a circular motion as I ground against him. I could sense his excitement, even though he knew he wouldn't be getting anything from me.

He explored every inch of my body, tracing my curves with his hands, his grip tightening around my throat as the alluring scent of Jack Daniel’s enveloped us.

“You cute as hell babygirl. You tryna head to the back? Got all of this ass on me.”

“Nah. you can get yo' hands off my girl."

I stood frozen, my heart racing as that deep, raspy voice echoed from behind me. I watched in shock as the guy was grabbed from behind, prompting me to spin around instantly. There on the ground lay the man, unconscious, after Jey had delivered a powerful punch to his face.

Fuck. I just knew he was going to make an appearance. Just to do something like this when he doesn’t get his way.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Like honestly?” I shouted as I shoved him away.

“I told yo’ ass sianni I fucking told you now grab yo’ shit and head towards the car don’t make me repeat myself. Got me fucked up.” He shouted while I remained there, arms crossed and unyielding.

He swept me off my feet, hoisting me onto his shoulders as he snatched my purse and phone. His gaze flicked between Bianca, Trinity, and the guy groaning on the ground.

"I had no idea she was your girlfriend; it seemed like she was ready to let loose."

Jey released me momentarily, seizing the man by the edge of his shirt and delivering another punch to ensure he stayed unconscious. Then, without hesitation, he hoisted me back onto his shoulders, even as I struggled to break free.

I was thrashing and wriggling like a child, playfully hitting him on the back, until a swift smack on my backside made me pause and reconsider my actions.

“This what I have to deal with? When yo’ ass could’ve just came home like the fuck I said but no you wanted to show you fucking ass tonight!” He shouted as he released me, forcing me down against his car and holding me firmly in position.

"If you weren't such a blatant hypocrite and a liar, I wouldn't have to deal with this situation, Joshua! A little honesty from you would have gone a long way! I'm so frustrated with you! While I'm at home waiting for you, you’re out entertaining other women at work, making me feel like a fool! " All this anger and resentment I have towards you stems from your actions, and it has left me feeling utterly worthless.

“Lower your fucking tone when you speak to me Sianni and I fucking told you it was work related nothing more!”

"It's hard to believe that entertaining other women and being intimate with them is considered part of the job. I don't see Jimmy or Montez treating Trin and Bianca that way, so what's your excuse now? Try to come up with something more original, or better yet, just be honest you fucking asshole." I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him, struggling to maintain my composure as tears threatened to spill down my cheeks.

“The fuck you just, you know what I’m not dealing with this shit tonight. Get in the fucking car.”

I’m not going anywhere with you, Joshua. I’m heading back into the club with Trin and Bianca. I can’t stand you; I absolutely despise you, Joshua. My feelings for you are nothing but hatred.

“Get in the fucking car Sianni. You starting to piss me the fuck off with all of this stupid shit you doing tonight. Jey swung open the passenger door of his car, casting a scrutinizing glance in my direction. “Get yo’ ass in the mother-fucking car Sianni I’m not playing with you and you aren’t going nowhere yo’ ass can say how much you hate me all you want but I know yo’ ass ain’t leaving me.”

“Ouuu! Fuck!” I grunted feeling my face being smudge into the bed sheets as he pummeled me from the back.

“This is what you wanted right? Showing yo’ fucking ass tonight so take this dick like a good girl for me mama,” When Jey exhaled, he gave me the one-leg-up, one-leg-down combination, which gave him more leverage to drag my ass back. “throw that ass back in circles for me baby doll,”

I was completely bewildered by what he was demanding from me, especially with the harsh blows he was delivering at that moment. When I failed to heed his words, his hand came down forcefully, striking me while he seized my hair, forcing me to meet his gaze. “the fuck did I just say? throw yo’ ass back in circles like you did at the club being a hoe,” Before I could hurl it back at him, his hand slammed down again.

“Mhmm, look at you. this is my fucking pussy you hear me? you had him thinking you was finna give him some tonight. was you gonna give it up baby doll?”

“Noooo…fuck..Jey…”

My pussy tightens gripping against him as his hand thuds my ass again.

“So fucking tight. you were going to give all of this away? something that belongs to me and only me? you’re fucking crazy,”

I couldn’t be angry at him or be upset at him while he as beating my insides in so roughly. My pussy was practically begging for that urge of release, I knew that this was going to happen this never-ending cycle of us arguing and then fucking I was tired of it but within each thrust he had given me he had to remind me that I was his and belong to him and nobody else. It was toxic very toxic but I would always fall for it because I love him and I would do anything for him but this time it felt different way different than before I was talking reckless to him and he once again showed me who was in control of this situation fucking me until my body felt numb.

The car ride was filled with harsh language and hurtful comments. Once we arrived home, I felt compelled to pack a suitcase. I was exhausted from this relentless cycle; it was mentally draining, and he seemed completely indifferent to my struggles. Deep down, I didn’t want to leave him, but I had reached my breaking point. It wasn’t my fault that I felt suspicious about his actions. I had no desire for revenge; that simply wasn’t who I was. After gathering some clothes, I made my way to the door, only to find him blocking my path and yanking the suitcase from my grasp.

“Yo’ ass ain’t leaving me Sianni. Get in the fucking room and wait for me in there. acting fucking reckless tonight I’m not having it.”

I rolled my eyes as he attempted to grab my suitcase, saying, “Joshua, I’m not playing this game anymore. I’ve made it clear that I’m completely finished with you. Go find someone else, like Jaida, and just leave me alone.”

“Why do you have do be so fucking stupid Sianni huh? she’s nobody to me. getcho ass in that fucking room don’t make me repeat myself,”

"No! Fuck that I'm no—" He silenced me by aggressively kissing my lips and driving his tongue down my throat as he carried me to our common bedroom. He threw me on the bed and tore off his clothing while ripping mine off, wasting hundreds of dollars. He then flipped me over and started hitting my wet cunt and not letting me to adjust to his size

“yo’ ass wanna be fucking stupid out here worrying about me doing this and that when I’m worried about you and only you,” He growled slamming into me deeply.

"W-wait! Jey! Oh fuckkk," I wailed as I pushed on his stomach, attempting to slow him down.

“Ain’t no fucking wait you wanted to act out tonight right? act out right now mama do it take this big ass dick,” he rammed deeply inside of my inner walls, showing off his dominance letting me know who’s running the show tonight.

As my yells reverberated off the wall, I could hear how wet my pussy was for him and only him feeling him digging his thumb inside of my second hole driving me insane as he continued to pummeled me to the oblivion.

“Fuckkkk!” The sensation made me cried out.

I knew that he was enjoying this breaking me into two pieces watching me crumbling underneath his touch knowing that I wasn’t leaving him.

Tonight was unlike any other; he was imparting a crucial lesson about the dangers of recklessness. Ironically, he was the one who had put me in this position. Perhaps I had gone too far, but he failed to grasp my perspective. I took the necessary actions, even if they didn't align with his way of thinking.

“Shit, this some good ass pussy mama. You were going to give it away baby doll?” He panted thrusting his hips deeper and deeper. “You ain’t leaving me mama. I won’t allow it after all the shit we been through I won’t.” He moaned out “saying you hate me but knowing damn well you love me way to damn much you taking this dick like a big girl just for daddy mama,”

“Ouuuu.” I cried out, a pit in my stomach telling me I was ready to cum. Within seconds of his dick and thumb digging into my asshole, I was going to make a mess on him and the sheets-damn so much of washing the sheets yet again.

“You finna cum huh? you think I’ll allow you to cum after putting on a show tonight?” He pulled my hair and removed his thumb to let me to stare up at him while grinding my body against his and whining as he rubbed my clit. “tell me something you belong to me? Hm? Is this my pussy?”

I had to say something to get him to let me cum, but I was so worn out and fatigued that I couldn't even understand or imagine the words coming out of my lips.

“you belong to me right? say it,”

“Yes I belong to you..” With a gentle croak, I threw my ass across his lap and chased his high.

“Un-un,” As he continued to hammer me, he put his hand around my throat to keep me near him. “show me how much you wanna cum, show me who you belong to,”

With greater force, I flung my ass back and spat my tongue out at him, opening my mouth wide so he could spit inside of it. He then tongued me down like no other, thrusting his dick deep inside of me.

“Tell me this is mine all mine, and tell daddy that your sorry for acting out tonight and I’ll let you cum baby doll,”

“Fuckkk! I’m sorry daddy! So sorry! It’s all yours I-I belong to you and only you! I-I cumming! Ouuu fuck I’m cumming!” Knowing that I was here to stay and that I wasn't going anywhere, that was all he wanted from me. My body fell onto the bed, and my thoughts went blank as I felt my body flail onto the covers like a dead body as my fluids poured out of me.

He struck me one final time as his warm seeds filled my inner walls to such a degree that I could see stars and felt ropes entering me one after the other.

After letting his dick spew out all of his nut that was gushing out the last of his sperm, he remained in that position for a minute before pulling away from me and flipping me onto my back as he watched my body tremble uncontrollably.

He tenderly brushed his lips across my skin, each gentle kiss designed to calm me, before leaning in to press a soft kiss on my lips. Then, he settled himself between my legs, resting his head against my chest.

“Did you actually mean that shit? That you hate me? Like actually hate me?”

“No, I didn’t mean it. I just wish you were more honest with me instead of denying it, it just felt like you didn’t care,”

“I do care though mama, I just don’t like to when you listen to other people on the net when you should be hearing it from me,”

I let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly drained. "You know, you kept denying it over and over, which only made you seem more guilty, Joshua. So, I need you to be honest with me: did you cheat on me while you were on tour?"

The atmosphere in the room was thick with silence as he and I locked eyes. “I swear, I didn’t cheat on you while I was on tour. Jon and Montez can back me up on that. As for Jaida, I haven’t spoken to her since we ended things. Those were just old pictures and screenshots,” he said, realizing that my previous reactions were based on false evidence. “I could never betray you like that, mama. I love you too much, Sianni.”

“Then what about all of these times you didn’t answer my calls or text?”

“I was with the guys and got drunk so I couldn’t text you back really, look I’m sorry mama like for real though I’m sorry I want you and only you,”

Did I truly want to trust him this time? I was uncertain whether to approach Montez or Jon about the situation; they would likely just defend him regardless. Still, I simply didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

I weakly nodded in response to his smile, and I couldn't help but think that if looks could truly kill, he would be the one to end me. As we settled into bed, he pulled me close, his strong arms encircling my waist, creating a sense of safety and warmth.

“I love you Sianni,” Jey whispered as he placed a kiss on my neck.

“Mmmm, love you too,” I mumbled while drifting off to sleep.

Could he really be honest? He appeared sincere, yet my tendency to overthink casts doubt on his words. Ultimately, only time will reveal the truth.

-fin ❤️

A/n: ngl this ate down lol 😭🙂‍↕️

[ill0usainte]

If I beat that pussy up, is you gon' tell on me?

pairings: toji x megumi'sgf!reader

cw: unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, crying, cheating (sorry y'all), age gap, missionary, big dick toji (duh), mentions of being a slut, nasty makeout + sex

Toji is well aware of your little crush on him.

When I say this man doesn't play no games-- he doesn't, if something bats his eye he would do everything to get it.

Meaning you-- his son's girlfriend.

He know damn well the advances and your moves to get his attention. How you always insist on staying at their house while Megumi is on a mission.

And he also knows how to push your buttons as well.

Eyes rolled back as your nails dig deeper through the skin of Toji's back-- marking it all red, while you wrapped your legs around his hips.

Feeling him drill his gritty cock relentlessly inside of your throbbing pussy-- makes you see stars, feeling your toes curls as you blabber nonsense. He's fucking his cum so deep inside your womb-- not wanting to waste any drop as he pounds it in.

His hand reaches up to your neck and wraps it around-- choking you as he pulls you into one sloppy kiss. The way his hot tongue explored the insides of your mouth-- makes you drool, swirling it inside like he's savoring the taste of your tongue to his.

You moan between the kiss as your nails dug deeper to his back-- earning a grunt from him as he pulled back from the kiss. Your face flustered face, tongue sticking out as a string of saliva connects to your tongue to his. Oh you're a mess-- a fucked up one, a slut for Toji.

The bedsheets were already soaked with his cum and your juices leaving a nasty mess under but he doesn't budge just continuing pounding his cock inside of you-- his angry red tip kissing the lips of your womb, hitting every spot so good. Feeling the walls of your warm pussy tightened around him made his cock twitch inside.

You can't help but cry-- tears of joy. Never been stretched so good like this before. You can't even think of Megumi at the moment while his dad is dicking you down like a slut you are.

Toji smirked as he leans close to your face-- forehead against each other, his hand tightens around your neck and you can only look at him with your fucked up face-- so cockdrunk.

"Hah..let me dick you down from the back-- shit...wanna see that ass clap, doll"

[lumine-inkedfanfics]

𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓫: 𝓣𝓸 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Tw: MC death. Character death. Spoilers.

Word count: 530 words.

Upload date: 4th February, 2025.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

"Caleb!!"

Your voice lingers like a song, but only in my memories.

"Caleb, look! They are fighter jets! Will we also go on those one day?"

Yet now you aren't here with me to fly through the skies we once thought was unreachable.

"Caleb a little higher! I'm almost there!"

I remember those times, when I'd use my evol to make you fly and pluck those crispy and juicy apples i love....you love.

"Caleb, Caleb, Caleb"

Nightmares are the only memories of us. I wish they were the happier ones, but it's fine....if this is the only memories of you, then I'll welcome this pain with open arms.

You were like the sun, and I the sunflower always seeking your warmth. Yet now I'm a dead sunflower. Where is my sun?

Don't leave me, what am I without you? I don't want to be your moon. Please let me be your sky in which you light up the world. Always together and interdependent.

"Caleb, this is for you."

The dog tag u gave me is now a noose around my neck. Constricting and choking the life out of me.

"My dream is to leave here and live in the stars."

You didn't need to go alone to the stars. You could have taken your Caleb with you. I could have built you anything your heart desires. Don't leave me here alone. I lived only for you.

I am now but a shell of a human. The memories of you vanishing day by day. The chip eating away the last remains of you. Soon I'll join you. My pip-squeak.

Will you hate me?

For not protecting you or for breaking your hopes and coming to meet you sooner in the stars?

But it doesn't matter if it means I get to be with you. We can ride the clouds and explore universes as long as you are next to me.

"Caleb! Close your eyes."

I see images of you when I close my eyes. Wished every star to open my eyes and see you.

Now I bring not 2 but 3 bouquets of flowers to the Linkon graveyard. One for gran, one for me, and one for you pip-squeak.

I can imagine how you must have felt. Please don't play games. Come back to arms. It's enough. You got me back. I'm sorry for leaving you. PLEASE! Please don't do it to me. I'm sorry.

"Caleb make me braised chicken wings."

What once I learned for you is now a useless skill. I can't cook for you anymore? I can make anything you want! Anything you desire! I'll learn any cuisine for you. But please come back to me. Come back into my arms.

You don't have permission to leave me! How dare you leave me here all alone in this retched world.

If you didn't come, I always came to you.

This time too it won't be different. Soon, the pain of loneliness will take me to you.

As I start my plane, I smile.

Soon I'll be there. My beloved pip-squeak. Sunshine. My one and only.

News reports suggest that Colonel Caleb of the Farspace Fleet died in a plane crash.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

A/n: I wanted to cry. So I wrote it. Like, comment and reblog. Love and deepspace gc on insta. Links on my Instagram. Love you all.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

[maxdibert]

1. We’re talking about a high-class bully considered an aristocrat in his world due to his blood status, who also operated with numerical superiority when attacking and, conveniently, had a working-class half-blood kid as his main target, whom he literally attacked for “existing.” The classist conditions are quite evident, and the power dynamics are clear. If you don’t want to see them because you need to justify your love for abusive, privileged brats, that’s not my problem. I fully acknowledge that Severus had plenty of flaws and a terrible personality, but what I won’t accept is blaming him when, in this dynamic with James Potter, he was clearly the victim and the one who was socially and economically at a disadvantage.

2. Excusing abusive behavior with “it’s just humor” is like excusing people making racist or homophobic jokes under the same premise. If we understand that one thing is wrong, we should apply it across the board. Making jokes with a misogynistic undertone that directly ties to the systematic, traditional abuse of women is not funny—it’s a demonstration of the power and impunity that privileged white men have over certain social groups, in this case, women. I’d love to see you defend the same attitude if it were Severus or Lucius Malfoy saying the same thing. You probably wouldn’t be saying the same.

3. Can you tell me where in canon it specifies that those spells were created for being a bigot? What we know is that they were created for “enemies,” and “enemies” can easily be understood as the group of bullies who had been tormenting him since he was 11 years old. Interpreting it as him creating them to target innocent Muggle-borns is something you’ve completely fabricated because nothing in the canon suggests that. It’s your own prejudice driving that interpretation. I’m basing this on canon, where his book specifies it was for “enemies.” Therefore, the knife analogy is correct: I carry a knife to protect myself from enemies, who in this case are guys who might try to do something to me at night. If those guys grab my knife and assault me with it, is that my fault? Victim blaming?

4. No, my dear, you started with the nonsense, so don’t come to me with excuses now. Sorry, but it seems like some of you get very upset when someone calls you out and debunks your fallacies. Well, that’s not my fault. Sorry!

5. James starts picking on Snape the very first day of school on their way to Hogwarts. Was he a bigot then? Did he butt into the conversation and mock him because he was a bigot? How did he know? Was he psychic and saw the future? Also, when the book explicitly states that he decided to publicly strip him because Sirius was bored? Why doesn’t it say they went after him because he was a bigot, but rather because Sirius was bored and his way of having fun was to find Snape alone and attack him two-on-one? Shall we also remember that what happens with Lily happens after they strip him and publicly humiliate him by choking him? Or are you conveniently skipping that part to keep throwing around argumentative fallacies at your convenience?

6. Basic concepts of character development 101: show, don’t tell. Rowling manages to show the reader that James could also be a terrible person through his actions, but when it comes to his “redemption,” she doesn’t show it—his friends just tell us about it, and they were clearly far from objective. Where is this change? Where is the maturity? Where does she show it? You can say something a thousand times, but it can’t be taken seriously if you don’t show it, and Rowling fails miserably at convincing us about James by not showing this so-called maturity she claims he has.

I love it when Marauders stans try to portray Lily as the ultimate feminist icon when any woman with half a brain and even the most basic understanding of gender studies knows that you’d be safer locked in a cage with a hungry lion than with a rich brat who publicly strips people and blackmails you into dating him in exchange for not committing sexual assault. Like, what world do you even live in? Seriously?

[cece693]

mano mažylė Pt. 2

pairing: platonic! hannibal lecter x gender neutral reader tags: leaving was the best choice, hannibal unable to handle feelings, chiron is over his drama, dead abigail, part 3 coming soon

Distance makes the heart grow fonder—a sentiment you didn’t share one bit.

When you left home with nothing but a bag of clothes and some money, a hint of regret settled in your bones, heavy and unwelcome. The image of your last act before leaving—the angry, desperate scrawl of I HATE YOU on the mirror—lingered in your mind. How could you have left Hannibal with nothing more than those words? How could you have reduced everything he had done for you—the home he provided, the security, the life most would envy—to that final, hateful declaration?

But then, as you sat on a train heading to nowhere in particular, watching the world blur past the window, you realized it really didn’t matter.

Hannibal wouldn’t miss you. He wouldn’t sit in the silence of that house and long for your return. No, if anything, he was probably relieved. Now that you were gone, he could fully embrace his twisted vision of fatherhood with Abigail. The unwanted thing had finally removed itself from the picture, leaving space for someone more deserving.

The thought hurt more than it should have, but it also encouraged you to keep wedging distance between you and Hannibal. Perhaps you had been a burden, but maybe—just maybe—this could be the first time you made him proud. The first time he would be thankful for something you did. And that was enough. Enough for you to settle back into the stiff train seat, exhale softly, and close your eyes.

In the months following your escape, you found a modest studio apartment with creaking floors and a single window overlooking a busy street. It was cramped, but it was yours. The landlord didn’t ask too many questions, and the rent was low enough that you could afford it by working at a local bookshop. Between the dusty shelves, the soft hum of customers chatting, and the friendly banter with your new coworkers, you slowly built a life that felt…normal.

But that comfort was disrupted soon enough. It was late on a cold Wednesday night. You had just finished closing the shop, the last customer having left half an hour prior. The street outside was nearly empty, save for a few cars idling at the traffic light. As you clicked off the lights and locked the door behind you, your breath plumed in the crisp air.

That’s when you saw her.

A woman stepped out from the shadows beneath a flickering streetlamp. She wore a long, tailored coat that looked far too expensive for this part of town. Her hair was meticulously styled, and there was an air of quiet confidence about her posture. She stopped a few paces from you, lifting her chin in greeting.

“Excuse me,” she said softly. “I’m looking for—” She spoke your name.

Instantly, your stomach dropped. The key in your hand felt suddenly heavy. You glanced around, but there was no one else on the sidewalk. “Who wants to know?” you asked, forcing your voice to remain calm.

She offered a polite, practiced smile. “My name is Chiron. I’ve been sent by Dr. Lecter. I’m sure you can guess as to why.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. Of course you could guess why. Chiron took a step closer, holding out her hands as if to show she meant no harm. “He wants you to come home,” she said gently. “He’s worried, and—”

“Worried?” You barked a laugh that sounded more bitter than amused. “You’re joking, right? Hannibal Lecter doesn’t do worried.”

She seemed unfazed by your scorn. “He cares about you more than you know. He…regrets things. He wants to make amends.”

“Amends,” you repeated. “Let me guess: he wants to show me how sorry he is by offering me a nice meal, maybe a glass of wine, and some carefully chosen words about ‘family.’” You swallowed, the taste of your own sarcasm nearly choking you. “I’m not interested.”

Chiron exhaled slowly. She reached into her coat pocket and produced a sealed envelope, dark red wax pressed into an elaborate seal. “He asked me to give you this. Please read it. If you don’t believe me, see for yourself how he feels.”

Your gaze shifted to the envelope, but you made no move to take it. “Burn it,” you said coldly. “I left for a reason. That hasn’t changed.”

“Listen,” she pressed, her voice taking on a more urgent tone, “I know you’re angry—”

“Angry?” you cut in, clenching your jaw. “Oh, I’m beyond angry. I gave him years of my life, hoping he’d see me as anything more than an accessory. And the one time I needed him to notice—” You stopped, your breath trembling, memories flashing of Abigail being hugged so tenderly by Hannibal. “He chose someone else. So yeah, angry doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Chiron’s expression softened. “He wasn’t trying to replace you. Abigail was...complicated. She needed help—”

“So did I,” you snapped. “And guess whose help I didn’t get?”

Silence stretched between you, weighted with everything you left unsaid. Finally, Chiron stepped back, slipping the envelope into your coat pocket anyway. You glared, but she ignored it, her tone quiet and careful. “He’s hurting in your absence. He thought he was protecting you.”

“Protecting me,” you repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. You shook your head and turned on your heel. “Tell him I don’t care what he feels. I’m not going back.” You walked off, not bothering to watch as Chiron remained behind, the glow of the streetlight flickering over her motionless figure. By the time you glanced over your shoulder, she was gone—as if she’d been nothing but a phantom in the night.

Far away, in that house you once called home, Hannibal Lecter was unraveling.

When you first left, he tried to maintain his usual routine. He prepared elaborate meals for carefully chosen guests, kept his appointments, and played the perfect host. But the silence in his home weighed heavily, like an echo that wouldn’t fade. You were missing. The one variable he had never intended to lose.

Abigail Hobbs was still there, at first. The girl who had unknowingly stirred the pot of jealousy. She tried to tiptoe around Hannibal, sensing his growing agitation. One evening, she found him sitting at the dining table, staring at a stack of your drawings—yes, the ones you thought he’d thrown away. His fingers traced the edges of the paper with a tenderness she had never witnessed before.

“Dr. Lecter?” she said quietly, stepping forward.

He lifted his gaze, dark eyes filled with something close to sorrow—but also a mounting fury. “Do you know,” he said, almost conversationally, “that these were drawn when they were four? And yet, you could see the hope in every stroke, every color they chose.”

Abigail swallowed. “I didn’t mean to come between you and—”

“Didn’t you?” He rose slowly, placing the drawings down with precise care. “I saw the way they looked at me after you arrived. As though I’d betrayed them. Perhaps I did.”

“I didn’t ask for your attention. I was just—”

“You existed,” Hannibal finished, his voice low and dangerous. “You came into my home, accepted my care. Took something that wasn’t yours to take.”

Abigail’s eyes widened, realizing too late the shift in his demeanor—a predator uncoiling. “Please, Dr. Lecter, I never wanted—”

Her words were cut off by the abrupt movement of Hannibal’s hand. He struck her with a force that sent her stumbling back. Dazed, she tried to stand, tried to speak, but Hannibal was already upon her, calm and methodical.

“This is not your fault,” he murmured, voice eerily gentle as he pinned her to the table. “But you are the catalyst. And for that, I cannot forgive you.”

In the final moments, Abigail tried to plead, to find some spark of mercy in his eyes. She found none. Hannibal dispatched her with the same detached elegance he reserved for his darkest practices. The dining room was silent save for his steady breathing. When it was done, he stood there, gaze flicking to the scattered drawings that had fallen from the table in the struggle. A few were stained now, the colors warped by splatters of red. He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

It was a child’s drawing of the two of you, hand in hand.

[sashaaababy]

Candy - Che Ecru

Authors Note: This is a Toji fanfic;) Ive been saying i was working on a fanfic so here it is? i hope its up to standards, and for all you horn balls ill highlight the first word of where the smut starts

Summary: Reader is a young and broke dropout who was offered a job as a bartender at a strip club since she was friends with the owner. toji is a divorced single alcoholic

Wc: 2,621

Cws: Oral, rough s*x, An*l, creamp!es, p in v, nsfw, smut, dacryphilia, doggy, age gap, spit, c*m play, tummy bulge, size kink, toji is BIG, daddy kink, headlock, biting, choking, slight p!ss, reader has daddy issues, Not proof read!!

Being a drop out college student meant being on bad terms with your family, not contacting them for months, and working as a bartender at a strip club. Which also meant dealing with creepy old men wanting to fuck you on the daily, but it was the only way for you to pay for your cheap lower class apartment. You had daddy issues mommy issues shit, all kinds of issues, you hated your life and would kill to change it. but you cant, so you get dressed putting on your work uniform (a skirt and white collard shirt) and look in the mirror straightening yourself up and brushing your hair, throwing on whatever makeup fixed your eye bags. You grab your keys and purse and walk out the front door, and down the stairs of your apartment, "y/nnnn i feel like i never see you, you work late yeah?" the creepy old man at the front desk always tried to make small talk with you and you always tried your best to ignore him and walk faster out the broken revolving doors that lead into the apartment complex. Once your out you scramble for your keys in your purse and unlock your car door.

The drive feels short but you wish it felt long, you dreaded work but once again the bills aren't going to pay there self. You get out of your car and walk to the more expensive revolving doors that lead into the strip club, unlike the ones to the apartment complex these one actually work. "y/n! omg i feel like i havent seen you in forever" one of the girls run up to you and give you a hug squeezing you so tight you feel like you actually cant breath "didnt you see me yesterday?"you let out a soft giggle patting her back slightly as she lets go of the tight hug she had on you "hmmph yesterday was a long time" she pouts "i have to get working ill see you later yeah"

you set your stuff in the employee locker room and walk out to the bar table serving people there drinks and receiving tips from people who are probably to drunk to even drive home but is it bad you couldn't care less? "can i get the cotton Candy margarita" you hear a deep raspy voice from behind you as you were putting away a few bottles you turn around and see the man who was talking to you, he looked like shit, i mean no he was attractive but he looked like he had just been through the worst moments of his life "you gonna get me my drink, sweets? or no" you scramble for your words "o-oh yeah sorry about that" you turn back around embarrassed for staring make him his drink and hand it to him and like every start of some cheesy romance show, your fingers brush and you try to think nothing of it until he try to make small talk with you "you look pretty young to be working here ma, how old are you?" you stare again, not because he looks like shit but because this guy is huge like muscles that could crush you on accident without even trying, "your staring" you snap out of your gaze "oh- uhm I'm sorry, I'm 22 recently- my friends owns the place so he gave me a job here since i was kind of looking for a job" you stop yourself before you go on a ramble about how your a drop out low class apartment living failure "ahhh i see" he takes a sip of his drink looking around the bar and back at you, this time up and down like he's checking you out, you look away and clean a cup to act like your distracted or busy. "do you dance?" your eyes snap back to him giving him your full attention "dance?", "yeah like on the poles and shit" of course he meant that, gosh you feel so stupid "oh- uhm no I've never tried it before, I'm to shy for that kind of stuff." your eyes go back down to the cup you were cleaning "thats a shame" thats a shame? what does he mean thats a shame? does he wanna see you half naked on a pole? no you don't even know the guy. thoughts rush through your mind completely distracted to the fact that the guy has already left and also, left a $100 bill on the counter, your a bit disapointed you didnt get to say bye but whatever.

You walk back to to the locker room to grab your stuff, you walk outside in the cold fresh air and get inside your car to drive home, but this drive felt long, unlike it was driving to work, driving home you couldn't stop thinking about the interaction with that man, yes yes you have spoken with many people at work serving them drinking, shit you even have regulars who come in everyday and speak to you, but this guy was oddly mysterious and come on the way he just left?the $100 tip? way weird. But before you can stop thinking about it, your already home stepping out of the car and into those broken revolving doors that you need to push to get past, luckily that weird creepy guy isn't on his shift and its a lady who's about to fall asleep, i mean it is roughly 2am so its completely valid, you take the elavator all the way up to your floor and walk down the eerily quiet hallway, you dig for your keys in your purse and unlock the door and sigh as you step into your sad embarassingly small apartment, you set your stuff on the counter and sit on your bed to count your tips, you go through them when you come across the $100 bill and see something on the back of it, his phone number, you look confused not knowing if this was an accident or he meant to do it. you ignore it and put the cash away in your nightstand and stand up to take a shower and get ready for bed you turn on the shower and strip off your work clothes waiting until the shower is warm enough to step in.

You step out of the steamy hot bathroom and dry your body off scrambling through your drawer to find some pj's, once you do you climb into bed and stare at your ceiling not able to get that man and the phone number off of your mind, you grab the $100 bill from your nightstand drawer and text the number, only to see if he meant to put it or if it was an accident of course, "hey, this is the girl from the strip club, the bartender who served you your drink, did you mean to put your number on the bill or?" send. you set your phone down not expecting him to respond to the text immediately since it is 2am at night, *ding* your phone goes off just as your about to close your eyes, you reach for your phone and see the number pop up as a message notification "Hey sweets, you can start by saying thank you for the tip" you read the message slightly annoyed "thank you." you type back and hit send before falling asleep not being able to stay up any longer.

You wake up to your alarm and check your phone to see no reply back from him, you notice you don't even know his name but you move on with your day as that was just a random thought, when the time arrives to get ready for work you do your usual routine and grab your keys having that creepy guys at the front desk try to make small talk while you quickly walk out, the get to work and start taking peoples orders, and it is BUSY your exhausted as the night drags on, but then that same man comes by "hey sweets" you look up at him "you didn't answer my text" you say in a softer voice than usual, you hate to admit you were a bit sad he didn't text you back, even though you didn't even know him or his name, your life was insanely boring and he made it slightly interesting "what was i supposed to say to a thank you?" he pouts and you almost believe he was actually sad you didn't start a real conversations, you change the subject "i don't even know your name" you say softly looking at the empty glass in your hand pretending to be occupied so you don't have to look him in the eye "Toji". "Toji" you repeat feeling the way it rolls of your tongue "it sounds nice coming from you sweets" he says resting his chin in the palm of his hand, and you cant help but feel your face heat up a bit "im y/n, your weirdly comfortable to someone you don't even know" you say with a smile finally making eye contact with him, "let me take you out" your face visibly heat up at the sudden ask, take you out? he doesn't even know you but how could you not, i mean look at him. "okay" you say acting unbothered trying to hide the fact your screaming inside "perfect, ill pick you up after your shift" he says it so calmly like none of this is new to him.

Next thing you know you're getting into a mans car you barely know, "you buckled up ma?" you nod nervous for what your getting yourself into "where are we even going, its super late i doubt anywhere is open." he shakes his head "don't worry that pretty little head of yours alright?" and you listen obediently sitting patiently in the passenger seat of his car. he pulls up to an expensive looking building and thats when you realize its a penthouse, your at his house, on the first time going out with him? i mean your already here and you cant change your mind now. He gets out and runs to the other side of the car to open the door for you before holding his hand out to help you out of the car, you look up at the building as you step out, you have butterflies swimming in your stomach, you hands are sweaty your scared if he can feel it, "cmon ma no need to be nervous" he kneels in front of you putting his face in your hand looking up at you "i have sum good food, games, i don't expect anything from you i just want you to have a good time ma" oh this man is down bad which is surprising for how scary and big he looks, but you give in feeling more comfortable and not as he gets up and leads you inside and into the elevator you both walk into his dimly lit penthouse and your shocked, food on the island table, a pool table, being a broke drop out you never thought you could ever step foot in a place like this or breath near a place like this, you look around fascinated and excited at the food "did you make this?" Toji wont lie to you he didn't make it, his house keeper did "hah, no i have a house keeper she's a great cook" you look around at all the sweets and eat a cupcake happily, he comes up behind you hugging your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder "is this okay ma?" you nod slowly shocked but comfortable having the man twice your size hold you like this, in some way you felt safe even though being here with a man you haven't even known for a week is probably insanely dangerous.

And it was, because next thing you know your getting your brains fucked out on the living room couch, he's putting you in doggy style forcing your back in a arch you didnt even know you could do, pounding his cock into your warm cunt, bullying your cervix with his fat tip kissing it and your g spot making you feel that deep stretch with his girth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as wet *plap plap* noises fill the room while you gush all over his cock and balls, "f-fuck baby your pussy's so h-hah tight" he's digging his nails into your hips you swear it will leave marks in the morning, he leans forward putting his weight and chest on your back as his arm reaches around putting you in a headlock that makes your brain feel fuzzy and your vision go blurry, all you can feel is his cock drilling your pussy "h-hnngh T-toji s-stop -i need to -pee" he thrusts even faster you swear he's just being mean "h-hah i don't care" you whine and try to squirm away from his cock but the headlock he has on you keeps you in place "T-toji seriouslyyy" he uses his other hand that was on your hip to reach under you and push on your bladder "i s-said i don't care" you whine and piss on his cock and his thrusts only get faster "f-fuck your such a dirty fucking slut on my c-cock" he bites down on your neck trying to muffle his whimpers and grunts, he moves his hand towards your lower belly feeling the bulge in your tummy "f-fuck you f-feel that baby? thats d-daddys cock drillin your belly" you start crying from the overstimulation and the orgasms hes taken out of your body "f-fuck baby your so small compared to me, i don't even know how this small little hole is taking me s-so well- oh fuck!" you feel warm thick spurts of cum fill your hole shooting directly at your cervix as he pumps it deep into you with long slow thrusts making sure you get your fill, "fuckkk baby just like that- milk daddy's cock cmon sweets don't s-stop" he flips you over onto your back as he slips out of your gaping pussy so he can watch the mix of juices run out of your hole and onto the bed sheets "fuck baby your beautiful" he climbs closer to you hooking his arms under your legs spreading them wider as he settles his face between your thighs licking his dry lips before leaning in and looking up at you with his gorgeous eyes. Sucking on your clit flicking it with his tongue before giving your hole attention, sticking his two thumbs inside and spreading it wide so he can look inside, "fuck i filled you up good huh baby?" he sticks his tongue in fucking it in and out tasting the mix of you both combined spitting on your pussy and playing with it "fuck baby, tastes js like Candy" he uses 2 fingers sticking them inside while he sucks on your clit while your a crying whiney mess trying to push his head away but it just makes him flick his tongue faster on your clit, "T-toji s-stop it i cant-" tears stream down your face from the overstimulation "your so pretty when you cry baby, you have no idea" and once you cum one last time for him he kisses your clit before crawling back up to you and hugging your waist pulling you up close to him and kissing all over your neck before having you fall asleep on top of his massive body that you barely cover half of.