#but flake has the answers

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

Do you think any of them shat themselves on stage?

here i am looking for happy guys, little pranks, nice warm fuzzy stuff....and get an anon ask like this, looking for....well...a different kind of warm fuzzy stuff 😄

I don't think i have the answer (and maybe i don't want to 😇)...

....but we have a little bit of info from Flake's book "Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag" (page 76)

"Ich wühle in der Eiskiste. Ich muss viel mehr trinken, ich bin völlig ausgetrocknet und habe dafür nur noch eine Stunde Zeit, denn wenn ich kurz vor dem Konzert etwas trinke, muss ich während des Konzerts dringend pinkeln. Da sind mir schon die unangenehmsten Sachen passiert. Ich kann ja beim Konzert nicht weg, und zwischen den Liedern sind nur ganz kurze Pausen. Nachdem ich einmal ein halbes Lied weg gewesen war und die Band sich aufgeregt hatte, habe ich mir das nächste Mal einfach in die Hosen gepinkelt. Das erzähle ich nur sehr ungern. Aber so schlimm war es dann gar nicht. <..> Trotzdem bin ich natürlich nicht wild darauf, jeden Abend einzupinkeln, und trinke lieber in gebührendem Abstand vor dem Konzert mein Wasser. Und dieser Abstand ist jetzt."

"I'm rummaging through the ice chest. I have to drink a lot more, I'm completely dehydrated and I only have an hour left to do it, because if I drink something shortly before the concert, I'll have to pee urgently during the concert. That's where I'm most uncomfortable things have happened. I can't leave the concert, and there are only very short breaks between songs. After I was gone for half a song and the band got upset, I just peed my pants the next time. I hate to say that. But it wasn't that bad. <..> Nevertheless, I'm not keen on peeing myself every evening and prefer to drink my water at a reasonable distance before the concert. And that distance is now."

😊

---

Fortunately we know that nowadays the band has a portable toilet available right behind the stage, so in case of need...

---

(the story of how Flake got sick in his sleepingbag on a Feeling B tour is one for another day as anon didn't ask for *that* 😇)

[atlas-affogato]

What do you think are the Enforcers tolerance for spicy food?

To me, Chow has the highest, Ratso can handle medium spicy, and Finn's Irish genes mean that black pepper can be too intense.

Oh my god this is so true 😂

Chow can definitely handle spicy food, regularly eats Thai food and doesn't even break a sweat.

Ratso likes a good hot wing or spicy chili oil noodles meanwhile Finn thinks pepperoni pizza is spicy and starts sweating if he eats anything 'spicer' than orange chicken

[clownpassing]

sorry i do so much nickposting i am just not sure where else to put my thoughts and feelings. anyways yeah last post was a little about him like mostly i just wish he stated his intentions more clearly like does he actually want to hang out with me or does he just feel bad for me and did those kisses mean anything would he do it again? could we please do it again?

[luvsupa]

‘SHE’S BUSY.’

tags: roommate! choso x fem!reader, choso has a tongue piercing, smut, ōral (f. receiving), choso is needy at the end, mdni.

a/n: the way this was supposed to be a short hc… w.c: 1.2k

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated 💜

roommate!choso who is madly in love with you but never wants to tell you because he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship you have.

roommate!choso who goes absolutely feral when he sees you dressing up to go on a… date?

“oh,” choso says, defeated, as you mention you’re going on a date with some guy you met through a mutual friend.

“do you think this is fine, cho’?” you ask, giving him a twirl of the dress that nicely hugs your figure. choso gulps at how stunning you look, feeling his heart beat faster.

“yeah, you look really good,” he says, continuing to eye you. oh, how he would treat you much better than that guy.

“i’ll show you the other dress- i can’t decide,” you say, returning to your room and shutting the door to switch between dresses.

roommate!choso who sits patiently in the living room, waiting to see your other outfit. should he make you show up late to the date or—

ding!

choso’s attention shifts to your phone that lit up twice. he wants to look so badly at the text but doesn’t want to invade your privacy, but—

ding!

choso looks around his surroundings as he picks up your phone to see the texts. he feels even more upset when he sees you saved the guy’s contact name as ‘j♡.’

‘ima call u’

just as choso finishes reading the message, you get an incoming call from him, and choso nearly panics. but he starts thinking about how badly he wants you to himself. he answers.

“hey beautiful, i—”

“sorry bro, she’s busy.” choso calmly says as he ends the call.

roommate!choso who knocks at your door as you’re still getting dressed to break the news to you, telling you that your date was spam calling to the point choso had to answer and said, “he canceled last minute.” you didn’t question choso because you knew you could trust him. little did you know…

roommate!choso who comforts you as you feel sad that he flaked on you. choso prepares a mini movie night, getting your favorite snacks and drinks while playing your all-time favorite movie. he makes sure you’re comfortable as he holds you tight in his arms on the couch as you lay on his chest.

“cho,” you say as he continues to rub your head, almost making you sleepy. he hums, “did you lie about him canceling?” you ask, feeling his heart beat quicken.

“yeah…” he says, not having any excuses as you giggle at his honesty.

“do you have feelings for me—”

“so fuckin’ bad,” he quickly answers as you both rise from your position, looking into his pretty brown eyes. at this point, the movie is just background noise as you two forget about it.

“do you want me?” you purr, and he nods rapidly, already getting up from the couch as he drops to his knees, parting your legs to make room for his broad figure.

you stare down at him as he pulls down your pajama shorts and panties, lifting your hips as he quickly throws them behind him. your legs are spread wide, resting on his shoulders, giving him full access.

choso moans as he sees your pretty cunt, giving your folds soft kisses. he’s about to lose his mind as his filthy dreams finally become reality.

you’re growing impatient as he’s basically teasing you, taking his time when you need him now. you tug at his silky hair, pulling it up to make him look at you. “cho—i need you,” you desperately say, and he feels himself grow hard at your neediness.

he doesn’t waste any more time as he dives into your cunt. your whole body jerks forward when you not only feel his tongue enter you but also the metal piercing on his tongue. the cold ball unexpectedly adds more stimulation, making you squirm as he snakes his arms around your thighs to keep you in place, growling into your cunt.

he brings one of his hands to your achy clit, rubbing tiny circles as you arch your back from the couch, moaning loudly from the double stimulation. it’s so fucking messy as choso loudly slurps your arousal, drool mixed with your juices coating his mouth and chin.

“f-fuck, cho, ’s too much,” you shakily say as he pulls away, arousal dripping from his chin as he looks up at you, his expression drunk on you. you unconsciously buck your hips closer to his face, wanting more as he chuckles darkly at your desperation.

he stares at your wet heat and slaps your cunt. your body jolts at the feeling as he repeatedly does it, hypnotized by the way your hole clenches at nothing. choso is starting to lose all sanity as your juices splatter all over his face and the couch. oh, how filthy this was.

“so fuckin’ good, baby, y-you’re so good,” he whines as he lays his tongue flat on your clit, your mind buzzing at the cold metallic ball. choso sucks hard on your clit, the piercing making you cry out in pleasure as it drives you to ecstasy. he slips two fingers deep into your pussy, knuckles deep as he curls them, thrusting in and out, loud squelches of your sloppy cunt echoing in your ears.

you’re already dumb from the intense simulation—the metal ball, his long fingers, his tongue. oh, how he loves your facial expression.

your legs begins to shake uncontrollably, feeling intense waves of your orgasm approaching rapidly as you shudder at the foreign feeling.

“‘m so c-close, cho,” you sob, tears streaming down your face as choso sucks harder at your clit. at this point, he doesn’t hear anything you say—he’s so caught up in his own head, only wanting to pleasure you, forgetting about his raging hard-on pulsating within his briefs.

your orgasm comes intensely as you feel yourself gushing arousal all over his face and the couch. your legs shake rapidly as you continuously spray his face. your vision is blurred as tears flood your eyes, crying out as your climax takes over you.

choso, on the other hand, kneels there, face covered in your cum, everything messy and lewd as his face and your cunt glisten in your arousal. fuckkkk, he thinks as he loses his mind.

“f-fuck, you’re a squirter,” choso moans as he watches your cum dribble down, leaving a pool of your mess soaking into the couch. “mmh, my pretty boy,” you manage to say as you bring a hand to pet his damp messy hair. but choso cannot seem to take his eyes off your sloppy cunt.

after a short tug, he finally looks up at you, quickly rising and smashing his lips onto yours, twirling his tongue around yours as you wrap your legs around his body, grinding his bulge against your bare cunt. you moan into his mouth at the friction, messily making out, tasting yourself on his tongue, your arousal from his face smothering onto yours.

“mhm, i-i’m your pretty boy,” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, looking at you, his face hazy from eating you out. “c-call me your pretty boy again,” he whines, blushing at the thought of being yours.

“my pretty boy—”

you’re interrupted as you hear your phone loudly ring and vibrate beside you. you both groan at the caller id: ‘j♡.’

roommate!choso who sends ‘j♡’ a selfie of both your fucked-out expressions, followed by text,

‘i told u she was busy.’

[heich0e]

"can i call you later?"

the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.

"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"

rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.

you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.

rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.

"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"

your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.

"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.

you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.

"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.

you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.

"my train is coming," you say.

he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.

you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.

"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.

you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.

you call back to him just before you step into the station.

"rintarou—"

there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.

you smile.

"—call me later."

he calls you almost every night after that.

even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.

even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.

even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.

you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.

"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.

"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.

"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"

rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.

"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."

you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.

you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.

"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."

you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"

rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.

"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."

you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.

"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.

you fell in love through those phone calls.

you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.

you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.

he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.

"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.

you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.

in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.

"oop—hello?"

you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.

the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.

"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.

you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.

"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)

"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.

"i know," he replies.

it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.

you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.

"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"

you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.

he tilts his head.

"—wanna join me?"

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 5; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

-

Give him blood and he’ll give you something new to chew on.

Except that isn’t the way it goes. Not this time at least.

He tries to talk Ghost out of it, but it falls on deaf ears. Blatantly ignored. The car barrels down the motorway under the cloak of night, a swell of stars overhead as the city falls farther behind. Radio shut off. Johnny thinks if Ghost had his way, the radio would’ve been pulled out entirely, just wires and an empty, black cavity in the dashboard, but it’s a rental. 

And no one wants to deal with the paperwork involved in damaging military property. Not even Ghost.

Ghost won’t so much as glance over at him. Unaffected as ever, as if they didn’t just fuck. Johnny’s stomach hurts when he thinks about it. Even without her knowing, he’s broken his girl’s trust. Not for the first time; maybe not even the last. His guilt echoes not only that he let Ghost make him come, but that he liked it—that the buzz in his bones says do it again, please god, again, please let me come, I need to come, touch me, please—

He thinks about his girl, then turns to Ghost again.

In the pit of his stomach, Johnny knows this is wrong. In his rational mind, he knows it. If he were in a better place, he wants to think that he’d make a real attempt to change Ghost’s mind, maybe get him to turn around at the next gas station, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling in his belly at the prospect of seeing his girl again after a week of nothing. 

The silence has been eating away at him. Bits of his brain flaking away, moth-eaten. Checking his phone again and again to no new messages, getting the same voicemail message whenever he calls. Something flutters high in his chest, an itch he can’t scratch; it tells him to take off in the middle of the night, drive all the way back home and pound on her door until she’s forced to answer it, forced to talk to him face to face.

Again and again, he tries looking at it from her perspective—tries to empathize with her. What he would’ve done in her shoes had she allowed a coworker to grab his dick in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s more than fair, he thinks. His own shame leaks out of his pores in the middle of the night, sleeping on top of the covers because he sweats right through the sheets. 

And yet, he keeps butting up against his own anger. Talk it out with me, yell at me, he growls into her voicemail, anger growing as the days pass one by one. 

It’s the road that alerts him to their arrival into the city more than anything. More cracks in the asphalt, the car rattling over sewer depressions and potholes in a way that says home sweet home. Usually it’s a source of comfort, like seeing the silver lining on grey clouds or the iridescence in an oil spill, purples and greens catching the light. Not now. Now the road winds like descending into the underworld, each turn coming with a sinking feeling. 

They park down the road from the flower shop, tucked just out of sight. A cool breeze wafts over his hot face when he steps out of the car. It nearly rocks him back. When he glances up, his heart stutters at the sight of her bedroom window, sealed tight now. Only cracked open during their sleepovers, when Johnny runs a bit too hot at night for them to sleep comfortably with the window closed. 

“Should I…do ye want me to give her a call to wake her up?” Johnny asks tentatively, shutting the car door softly so as not to make a noise. 

Ghost shakes his head. “We’ll let ourselves in.”

Johnny’s picked hundreds of locks in his time; he’s jimmied open doors with crowbars, set up explosive charges, used a good old fashioned ram from time to time—no stranger to the trade—but it feels decidedly uncomfortable with Ghost at his back, staring down at him as he breaks into his own girlfriend’s apartment. 

“This is a bad idea,” he grumbles, turning the pick in the lock until he hears a familiar click inside. 

Ghost doesn’t answer, just raps his knuckles against the back of Johnny’s head. A silent get a move on. 

Her apartment looks the same but different when they enter it. His muscles remember the layout though. The pink couch in the living room with two dimpled pillows on either side, the footstool by the door, the stand with her shoes all piled in neat little rows, the vase on her kitchen island with a fresh new bundle of flowers, fragrant when he dips his head to take a whiff. He’s loved flowers ever since meeting his girl. 

Ghost doesn’t try to muffle his footsteps for once. He rummages through her cabinets and drawers with all the finesse of a first time burglar looking to get caught. It smacks of intentionality. Johnny’s worked with him too many times in the field to know that if Ghost wanted to disappear into the darkness, he would. He’d be the thing creeping silently through the shadows, tread lighter than air, close enough to touch but never see. 

So it’s more than deliberate when he noisily shuts a drawer. Baiting her out. 

It’s no surprise when Johnny hears her creep around the corner from out of her bedroom. He’s tucked in the shadows of the living room, just out of the light, so he sees her first when she comes silently down the hall, whole body trembling with fear, the bat she keeps beside her bed drawn over a shoulder. Even her hands shake around the grip.

Of course she yelps when Johnny says her name, stepping out of the shadows, swinging wild. He winces when the bat smashes into a lamp, shattering it on impact. 

“Fuck!” she screams, scurrying backwards into the wall behind her. Several framed pictures rattle against the wall, nearly knocked off their hooks. 

“Noisy, isn’t she?” Ghost grumbles from the kitchen, tossing a bored glance over, unbothered by the commotion. He undoubtedly heard her creeping down the hall as well. 

“What the fuck?” she gasps, chest heaving when she breathes. Her eyes dart from Johnny to Ghost’s massive form in the other room. Poor nervous thing. She must recognize Johnny’s voice saying her name even through the panic because her lips droop in a frown, more confused than petrified.

“Hen, it’s jus’ us—nothing to worry about,” Johnny coos, hands stretched out in front of him to show he means no harm. 

It gets her to lower the bat, but only just, the slightest dip that has him darting forward to pry it gently from her hands. The ceramic shards on the floor will have to be swept up later, but he’s relieved that at least she didn’t step on any of them. 

Up close, she’s just as pretty as he remembers. Pretty as pie. How could she not be? In the glow of youth still, not like it's been a decade since they last spoke face to face—only a little over a week. A sight for sore eyes, even though Johnny’s narrow when he stares down at her and thinks about the week of his texts and calls going unanswered. His jaw undulates, rage held back by the thin thread of her scent that wafts under his nose, making him lean into her. 

Breathe in and out. 

“Us?” she repeats, brow furrowing.

She glances over at Ghost again, the man still ambling around the kitchen, at home in her little one bedroom apartment like he visits her frequently. Like it’s his as well. 

“Aye…Ghost wanted to come—Simon wanted to apologize…for the other day,” Johnny explains. 

“You broke into my apartment in the middle of the night…so Simon could apologize for sexually harassing me?” she says, the disbelief smacking in her words. 

“Hen, it's no' nice to say it like that—” 

“No time like the present,” Ghost says, not ashamed in the slightest. “Heard you weren’t taking Johnny’s calls. Might not’ve had to do this if you’d picked up.” 

Johnny doesn’t believe a word of that, but there’s no reason to call him out on it now. 

He can see her wrestle with a trifecta of emotions competing for first place. Anger, embarrassment, and then, a smidge of worry holding up the rear. Aware of the fact that she woke up to two grown men, one practically a stranger, breaking into her apartment under the guise of having a conversation. His heart aches at the thought. The lion’s share of the blame rests with him, but still it’s her that suffers for it. 

“You…you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps, flinching when Johnny lays a hand on her waist, towering over where she’s still cowered against the wall. Bat gone now, defenceless. Her pupils narrow to a pinprick. He almost tuts, poor thing. Scared out of her wits. 

It feels so good to touch her though. Soft and yielding. 

“‘Was Simon’s idea, hen, but, ah—” his breathing picks up when his fingers tighten on her waist and she squirms “—I was goin’ crazy thinkin’ ye were pissed for what happened last week. Couldnae get a wink of sleep—kept closin’ my eyes and seein’ your face. Nearly broke me.”

“I am pissed at you,” she snaps, temper getting the better of her.

“I ken, I ken,” Johnny coos, ducking his head until his lips graze her temple. “Simon’s sorry—we came all the way here so he could tell ye to your face, but fuck, hen, I’m sorry too—shoulda said something instead of standin’ there like a fuckin’ dolt—”

“You should’ve,” she interrupts, still fuming mad, an iceberg melting right in front of them. It makes his cock pulse.

“—Aye, hen, I’ve no excuse, none at all. Shoulda told Simon to fuck off and keep his hands to himself—”

“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost says warningly, finally stepping into the living room. He fills out the archway imposingly, almost forced to twist his body on an angle to step in. 

Her eyes cut over to Ghost, narrowing, lips pursing. Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s one thing to see his girl again in the flesh, but to see her all righteous and on the verge of an argument—he could bend her over the back of the couch now, sink into the plush, delicate folds of her pussy, reacquaint himself with deep, languid thrusts. Heaven after not getting his cock wet in a week.

He flinches when he thinks about the last person to touch his dick. 

“So you’re sorry?” she says to Ghost, her disbelief clear. Difficult to see why she wouldn’t find it hard to believe that the man that shamelessly grabbed her ass in broad daylight in front of a group of his colleagues and her boyfriend would now choose to apologize. 

Johnny knows the answer is no when he sees the way Ghost’s eyes rove over her body, taking stock of her little cotton pajamas and her bare feet curling against the cold floor. Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes travelling back up to meet hers. “Sure I am, bird. Don’t I look sorry?”

Neither of them answer that. Arguing with Ghost feels different, like inviting in danger. Moving too suddenly in front of a hungry dog, jowls loose and salivating for a bite. 

He takes a step closer. “Complete pillock, wasn’t I? And now Johnny’s getting the silent treatment ‘cause of it. Just couldn’t bear another second of him moping around base on the verge of tears.” 

Johnny frowns at that. His girl frowns too, but there’s something more to it. He wouldn’t blame her for not accepting Simon’s apology, if he could even call it that—nothing about it rings sincere, more like words spoken softly to call a kitty over—but questioning it feels worse somehow. Like detonating a bomb at two thousand feet above ground. 

“…Okay,” she says instead, voice trembling a little. “Apology accepted. You guys can go home now.”

“Bird’s forgiving, huh, Johnny?” 

Johnny preens despite himself. “Aye. She’s a good girl, Lt. Told ye so.”

Ghost nods. “That’s right. A good girl who’s gonna let us make it up to her ‘til we have to report back in forty-eight hours.”

“Wait, you can’t—” she starts, then cuts herself off when Ghost’s eyes flash.

He can’t help the way he shudders at the helpless look on her face. Downturned eyebrows, pretty lips slack with disbelief, just the slightest hint of a whine building in her throat that dies when it dawns on her that nothing short of calling the cops will make the two of them leave. 

And she’s a good girl—would never call the cops on him. His perfect girl. Sweet as pie. 

Johnny falls in love a little bit more when she presses her squeezed fists against her eyes and exhales. “Fine. I’m too—I’m going back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”

Ghost doesn’t react to her acceptance. It’s taken as a simple fact of nature—he says something and it happens. He speaks the world into being. 

“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts, finally sitting down to unlace his boots. He looks comically large on her little couch—it’s more than likely that his feet will hang off the end, if not everything from the knee down. 

Johnny already figured as much. No point in them driving all the way back to base when they both have the next two days off duty and there’s a perfectly serviceable couch for Ghost and the other half of her bed for him. He thought they’d have to convince her a bit more or strong arm her into it (a putrid thought; he’d rather have sweet talked her into the idea), but his girl always manages to surprise him in the best way. 

On that thought, he looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom door, cock throbbing again at the thought of getting to hold his girl’s body against his. Touch starved dog. Mangy mutt, tongue lolling out at even the possibility of a pet. 

Ghost must notice the object of his gaze because he sets him straight. “You can take the floor, Johnny.” 

His tone brooks no argument. When Johnny whirls around, the words already on his tongue, she’s my girl, I’ve already slept in that bed ten times over, the sight of Ghost’s bare face, the mask now off, dangling in his hand like some scrap of fabric, makes him lose his train of thought. It’s not often he’s granted the luxury of seeing Ghost’s face—wide, clean shaven jaw, buzzed blond hair, old burn marks like a half-moon around his eye, nasty old scar slicing through his lips—and to see it now, here, makes something in him give. 

Saturnine man with a wolf’s appetite. Ravenous. 

It burns him that his girl looks slightly relieved at having the bed to herself. Irks him. Makes his jaw clench on a mean remark, half tempted to spit out something cross. Just because things have gotten complicated, now he’s not welcome in her bed? After the week he’s spent toiling, trying to make amends? Pleading desperately over the phone, stewing in guilt and heartache—Johnny knows she’s a good girl, but if he finds out that she’s replaced him with someone else in the week since they last saw each other—

Even the thought makes him see red.

He watches her as she turns around to retreat back to bed, more than a little displeased. 

“Give Johnny a little kiss before bed, why don’t you, bird?” Ghost lightly suggests. Not a suggestion. 

She freezes mid-turn. His expression dares her to put up a fuss. Johnny again nearly clucks his tongue, troubled on her behalf. Her spitfire nature is snuffed out easily under that stare. Grown men with experience in the field wither under Ghost’s stare. It’s no weakness of hers that she acquiesces time and again to his demands, glancing up at Johnny from under her eyelashes before shuffling over, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cheek. 

“Better than that,” Ghost grunts, unimpressed. 

His poor darling. Humiliated now. No skin off his back though. Johnny’s heart pumps double time when she presses her lips to his; soft petals that spread when he slips his tongue into her mouth, too eager after a week of nothing. Touch starved. Desperate to sink into her, lap his tongue over her lips and the roof of her mouth and press her jaw open to spit messily in her mouth. Take it, hen, every piece of me.

She rips her lips from his and dances away when he tries to get his hands on her, eyes wide, casting one last glance over at Ghost before hightailing it back to her room. 

He barely resists going after her. Only Ghost’s stare roots him in place; his voice in Johnny’s head that rumbles, heel. I’ll tell you when to go.

He still doesn’t know what it says about him that he angles himself towards it. Bows his head to it. Moth to a flame that shocks him to the bone when he touches it.

Ghost tosses him the second pillow from the other end of the couch and takes the only blanket for himself. No matter. Johnny’s bivouacked on snowy cliff sides, chilblains blistering his toes for weeks; nights spent camped in torrential downpours, his tent on the verge of collapsing; windswept baysides chilling him to the bone. He can handle a pillow on a hardwood floor. 

The ebb and flux of an ocean in his ear, and then Ghost’s voice from the couch: “I’ll take first watch.”

Whole body falling loose as if snipping a cord tethering him to the world. 

“I’ll clean up the lamp in the morning,” he mumbles, vision already blurring. Ghost hums low in his throat.

He falls asleep with Ghost’s voice in his head, his girl’s taste still in his mouth.

[alastor-simp]

Caught In The Fluff - Angel Dust X Reader

Its time to write for the hot spider now. Enjoy Everyone!

It was a slow day in hotel today. Compared to the ongoing chaos that usually happens with either fights or Sir Pentious blowing up a portion of the building with his inventions, it was a normal chill day. Laying on the couch in the lobby, your eyes roamed around the room and gazed at the other residents, as staring at your cell phone was not aiding with your boredom. Charlie and Vaggie happened to be constructing more advertisements for the hotel, as the table was covered with glitter and colorful stickers, yep this was definitely all Charlie's idea, but watching her and Vaggie being couple goals was wholesome. Husk was shuffling a bunch of cards in his hands, wearing a smile for once while Niffty was watching him in awe, eye sparkling with amazement. Alastor resided in the chair next to yours, humming a catchy tune as his focus was drawn to the newspaper in his hands. Sir Pentious was in the corner of his room, assembling a puzzle as his Egg Bois were watching and helping him look for the proper pieces. After scanning the room a bit more, there was a lack of a porn-star demon in the room. Odd? Usually Angel would be flamboyantly chatting away, which caused many eyes to roll at his antics, well, mostly Vaggie and Husk. Slowly rising from the couch, you waved your hand in front of the two females in front of you, hoping to draw their attention. "Yes, Y/N? Is something wrong?" Charlie said, looking up at you with a bright smile, while her hair was covered in pink glitter and some traces of crayons on her red-dotted cheeks. "Sorry for bothering you while working on your project, but have you seen Angel since this morning?" Worried eyes stared at Charlies as you saw her smile fall and she shook her head no. Vaggie, on the other hand, was quick to answer your question, clear frustration on her face. "That estúpido is probably still sleeping the day away in his room! UGH! You think he get off his lazy a** and help around a bit!" Vaggie blared out, drawing the attention of the others in the lobby before continuing with their activities.

A cough was heard next to you, as Alastor had folded the newspaper on his lap, before looking at the three of us. "Now my dear Vaggie! While I don't approve of many of Angel's antics! He does work for another employer! So while he may not be pitching in with this ridiculous redemption process! He certainly has his hands full with other business!" Wow, you weren't expecting Alastor to defend Angel a bit. Maybe he does care about the others a bit, despite his enormous ego. Vaggie's eyes glared with rage at Alastor, probably for jumping into the conversation when nobody asked for his opinion, but she relaxed once she felt a soft hand touch her shoulder. Thinking more about it, you remembered that Angel had to work for the gross moth guy, Valentino. That man was so creepy and his actions towards Angel made you sick to your stomach. Honestly if you were as strong as Alastor, that man's head would be mounted on the wall. But, Angel has been in his room since 8 AM. He didn't even have breakfast. "I'll go bring him some food and check on him" You announced, as you got up from the couch and started to head to the kitchen. The sounds of tap shoes appeared from behind you, as you turned and realized Alastor was following behind you! "AH! I will help you my dear!" His smile was outstretched across his face, while he walked with a slight jump in his step and hands folded behind his back. Smiling back at Al, you both headed to the kitchen to make something for Angel.

Angel was Italian from what you recalled during one of your conversations as he was ranting about a client and calling them multiple Italian curse words. Deciding on an Italian dish for him, both you and Alastor agreed to make some Penne Alla Vodka. Alastor was helping with the vodka sauce, adding in the tomato paste and crushed pepper flakes while you were cooking the pasta to al dente. Gazing at the pasta cooking, your thoughts wondered back to what Al said in the lobby. "Um, Alastor?" You asked, while your hands kept stirring the pasta in the pot. Alastor was humming a tune, before he stopped and gazed at you, listening to what you had to say. "Thanks for what you said back there about Angel." Softly gazing at him, Al continued to stare at you, his signature smile dropping down to a soft one. "He is a valuable patron of this establishment! While I don't really care much about him and the others, I prefer him more when he is in a jovial mood then a depressed one!" Alastor answered with an aloff attitude, yet you could see in his red eyes that he somewhat cared about Angel, despite his strong dislike of him always attempting to get touchy with him. Focusing more on Al and leaving the pasta for a minute to continue boiling, your feet carried you over to where Alastor stood. "I assume you say you don't care because of your reputation, yet here you are cooking a meal for Angel Dust with me. Seems like your actions contradict your words Alastor." Silence filled the kitchen as both you and Alastor were having a stare-off, wondering which one would speak first. Crimson eyes gazed into yours, as they glanced down back to the cooking sauce.

Maybe you overstepped it a bit. Stepping back from your position, you eyed the pasta pot that you left unattended. A warm hand had caught your wrist before you could leave, and you turned to see Alastor gazing at you, smile still prominent yet his eyes were stern. "Angel my dear, is under contract with one of the three V's, Valentino! I don't know or care about how he conducts his business! However! His actions towards Angel are something I do not particularly enjoy! While watching the scum of hell suffer through torment and despair is quite enjoyable. Seeing Angel suffering from that p̸̨͎̏͜i̶̛̼͉̚g̵̢̒̓ ̴͓͓̂͊̐m̵̟̔̑̌ỏ̶͎̻͇͝ṭ̵͆̂̈́ḥ̸̱͌ ̷͍̫̰̉ȯ̵̲̙͍͒ü̷̧̗ͅț̸̜̟̆͂r̶̯͌a̴̜͆̽g̵̩̓̍̾ē̴͎̪̚s̴͍͍͇̒ ̷̬̣͊̃̋ḿ̸̦̞̥e̷͕̋!” Radio dials flickered on Alastors face for a split second, then turning back to normal . Observing all of this through your eyes, you apologized to Al if you spoke out of turn, but your apology was cut off when the hand on your wrist made its way to your cheek. Alastor said there was no need for apologies, and gestured back to cooking the meal, as burnt pasta wouldn't be very appetizing for Angel. The both of you stood back at your pasta creation, feeling proud that it looked incredible. With a snap of his fingers, the plate was then transported on a tray and topped with a metal cover. Alastor picked up the tray and handed it to you. "Run along now my dear!" Two hands were placed on your back, as they pushed you out of the kitchen, and leaving you alone with the tray in your hands.

Heading over to Angel's room, you knocked on the door and called out his name. No response was given back, so you tried to open the door. Surprisingly the door was unlocked and you made your way inside. Angel's room was shrouded in a neon pink glow. Numerous posters covered the walls, and various clothes and wigs were scattered all over the room. His room smelled like sweet cotton candy along with smoke that was coming from the ash tray. In the corner of the room was Fat Nuggets, Angels pet pig. It was sleeping on its back, while covered in a soft pink blanket. Next to the small bed was the large queen sized bed that a certain spider was laying on. The blanket was half off the bed, leaving some part of Angels legs uncovered while his back was facing you. Placing the tray near the nightstand, you slowly approached Angel and placed your hand on his shoulder. Calling out his name and giving him a little shake had no effect on him as he continued to sleep. "Angel? Come on. Wake up. Me and Al made you some food." Angel still remained asleep. "Angel. The food will get co-" Your words were interrupted as four pairs of arms grabbed you and pulled you closer. Your face landed in something fluffy, as you realized that Angel had pulled you into his fluffy chest, and his legs began to wrap around you, locking you in place. "Mmph! Angel!" Calling out his name, you tried to remove yourself from the fluffiness, but Angels arms were holding you in place. "Oh~! Do it harder!" Angel was sleep talking, as he squeezed you tighter like a plushie. Great! He's hugging you while having a dirty dream. Wiggling a bit more, you realized that Angel wasn't wearing a shirt. Oh lord! Please tell me hes wearing pants at least. Luckily you looked down and saw that he was thankfully wearing underwear. You couldn't imagine the awkward situation if he was fully naked and hugging you like this.

Trying to move one of your hands, you resorted to poking Angel's belly, seeing if that would be able to wake him up. Angel soon let out a groan and began to slowly wake up. "Ughhhh. Huh?" Angel was slowly beginning to realize he was holding someone. Looking down, he saw you wrapped in his arms, face full of his chest fluff. "Heh~ Heya toots~. Were ya that desperate for my services~?" Angel wiggled his eyebrows at you, as he continued to smirk at you. Moving your head a bit from the fluff, you shook your head no. "I came to see if you were okay? You have been sleeping since the morning and missed breakfast. The others and me were worried. Alastor and I also made you some pasta to eat." Angel's smirk quickly disappeared and he looked at you in shock, before gazing at the clock on the wall, which read 2:34 PM. Damn he slept for that long? Figures after all the services he had to perform at Valentino's club. His body was tired out and his mental state deteriorated a lot yesterday. He was honestly surprised that the others actually gave a f*** about him, and wanted to see how he was doing. He ain't use to all that mushy s***. Still it warmed his heart a bit. Heaving a sigh, Angel slowly released you, allowing you to moved and stand back up next to the bed. The blanket was still covering his lower body as he began to sit up on the bed. "Had a busy day last night toots. Lot of pole dancing and what not." Angel moved his hair fluff with his hands, attempting to soothe the hairs that were out of place. He was still smiling, but the sadness in his eyes was visible. He was exhausted beyond belief and you knew who was to blame for that. Moving your hand towards him, you placed it on his cheek, startling him a bit as he stared at you confused. "Are you really okay?" Your voiced was laced with concern, as you continued to stare at Angel, waiting for him to respond. "Pfft! I'm fine toots! Doing all that dirty stuff is no problem for me given my amazing stamina~. Hell! I could last a whole day and wouldn't break a sweat! HAHAHAHA!" He was putting on an act. You could tell based on how he was smiling that he was forcing it. "Angel. Don't lie to me." Your voice raised a bit higher, letting Angel know you were being serious. Angel caught on to that and removed your hand from his cheek. "What the f*** is your problem, toots? I told ya I'm fine so deal with it." His face turned away from you, as he waved his hands at you, telling you to piss off. That was the last straw.

Grabbing both of his cheeks, you pulled his face to look back at yours, as his eyes were filled with shock. "YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY NOT FINE! STOP LYING TO ME AND TELL ME THE WHOLE TRUTH! Anger filled your eyes as you continued to stare into Angels own. His multicolored irises continued to gaze at you, as his mouth was left agape. Slowly, those eyes staring back at you began to fill with tears. Seeing his tears, you pulled Angel closer to you, and placed his head on your chest, hugging him close to you. His body moved off the bed, to where he was standing on his knees, and his arms wrapped around you tightly, almost as if you would disappear in front of him. He was bawling his eyes out on your chest. You hugged him closer and moved one of your hands to his hair, patting his white floof. The both of you stayed like that for a full 5 minutes before Angel's loud bawls slowly began to turn into soft sobs. Moving from his position, Angel moved his head a bit so he could look you in the eyes. "S-orry toots. I think I got your shirt wet." Chuckling, you patted his head and told him it was alright. Lifting him up from his position, you carried him back to sit on the bed. Grabbing the plate from under the tray, you walked back and sat on the bed and handed Angel the plate. "Its penne al vodka. I remembered that you liked Italian food so me and Al whipped this up for you. Wiping the tears on his face, Angel grabbed the plate and stared at it, before looking back at you with a soft smile. "Heh, if Smiles and you made this together, its going to taste incredible." You continued to watch Angel as he slowly began to eat the pasta, mumbling how good it was with his mouth full. Once he finished, you grabbed the plate and placed it back on the night stand, and returned back to Angel. Grabbing a napkin as well, you cleaned his mouth to help remove the extra sauce that remained there. Angel's face actually turned a shade of red at your actions. Damn, how sweet can you be?

"You feeling a bit better? Want to head down to the lobby?" You asked Angel, as you stood in front of him, smiling kindly at him. His eyes turned to the ceiling in thought, contemplating it. "Hmmm~ Nah~!" Angels arms surrounded you again, as he pulled you back towards him. His back hit the bed while his head was cushioned by the soft pillows while you were placed on top of him, right back into his chest fluff. "What?! Angel?!" Mumbling into this chest floof, you tried to push yourself off, but his arms had you trapped again, and he tangled his legs with yours. His eyes were gazing at with mischievously, and his sharp-tooth smile was in front of your eyes. "Come on, toots. Ya never had a lazy day before? Ain't against the law to sleep all day." Angel squeezed you closer, pushing your face more into his chest fluff. My lord, he was so soft! Not only was he soft, but he smelled amazing. You were going to get addicted to this. Seeing you stop resisting, Angel continued to smile down at you, as he moved one of his arms to pat your head. "Ya should consider yourself lucky! Not everyone gets to experience my chest fluff service~. Ya should enjoy it while it last toots~." Winking down at you, Angel continued to smiled down at you, as you felt your face heat up while laying on his chest. You continued to stare at him, and saw that he actually looked a lot better, as his eyes were a bit brighter and the smile on his face seemed more genuine. Your eyes were slowly beginning to close as the sensation of Angel patting your head and his cozy fluff was making you sleepy. Pretty soon, your eyes drew to a close and you fell into a deep slumber. Angel watched as you had fallen asleep, before bending his head down, to give you a peck on the forehead, before placing his head back on the pillow. "Thanks, y/n." He whispered to himself, as he squeezed you a bit more, and went back to sleep.

Peeping through the crack in the door, Charlie and the others had seen the whole thing. Charlie was hopping up and down, like a rabbit as her eyes were beaming with heart eyes. "Ohh! They are so cute!" Vaggie was shaking Charlie to try to get her to calm down, and also to lower her voice, so she wouldn't wake the both of you up. Husk was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, appearing not to care, but he did smile a bit at both you and Angel on the bed. Niffty was zipping back in forth in glee, matching Charlies energy. Sir Pentious was gazing at the both of you with a soft smile, while his Egg Bois were crying, finding the moment in front of them super sweet and adorable. Alastor was standing with his microphone in hand, smiling as always as he observed both you and Angel. Snapping his fingers, his powers had slowly closed Angels door and locked it. Looking back at the others, he placed his one finger against his mouth, letting out a quiet shush as he gestured for everyone to go back to the lobby and let the both of you rest.

Tagging-

@91062854-ka

[itgetzweird08]

can i have this dance? k. bakugo x gn!reader

“Mmm I like the black jacket more”

Katsuki hums softly at your answer as he holds the suit jacket up to his chest. He scoffs, tossing it haphazardly on the bed before flopping down on top of it. He held his phone above his face at arm's length, staring at your face through the screen as you ate your cereal. “This is fucking stupid” he complains softly and you giggle as he moans and groans, chewing your breakfast.

“It’s not stupid Kats, it’s a dance! And technically, it's your first high school dance. If you ask me it’s long overdue.”

That part was true. It was the first formal UA has hosted in the past three years. Usually, there was a dance twice a year: one during the Christmas festival and the other during the spring semester. It was exclusive to students and staff as everyone dressed to the nines and had a good time celebrating the holiday season and the loveliness of spring. Katsuki grew up hearing about it, and sort of looked forward to them. But due to the League and AFO, class 3-A never got to experience one. Until now.

Japan was slowly returning to normal after the events of the war a year prior, and to celebrate the students after all of their hard work and sacrifices, Nezu had finally cleared the spring formal to take place just a few months before graduation. When the class got the news, they were thrilled and even Katsuki had to admit that he was the tiniest bit excited. That was until Mina mentioned that they were all gonna have to find dates- then his balloon popped. He only wanted one person to be his date at any event, and that was you. Unfortunately, you were halfway across the world. This is why as you sat at your breakfast nook munching on Frosted Flakes, Bakugo laid on his comforter in his pajamas in preparation for bed. You called each other almost every day and when one of the first things he told you was the news about the dance, you begged to see his suit options. That’s what led you here, keeping him up two hours past his bedtime as he gave you a little fashion show. But he didn’t mind. He would explode the planet to make you smile, and he valued your opinion. He just wished you were there to give it in person.

“Yeah I guess,” he huffed and sat up, putting his suit back in his closet, turning off his ceiling light, and getting beneath his comforter. “I just don’t see the fucking point in going.” You raised an eyebrow at him and frowned. You knew he was excited, you could tell because of how fast he told you the news when you called. But now he seemed disappointed. “Why not?” You pried softly, trying to get to the root of the problem as he pouted. His room was dark, so you couldn’t see his entire face, but you could hear in the way he spoke that his bottom lip was slightly jutted out in disappointment. “Raccoon eyes was talking about everyone getting dates and shit…and you aren’t here.”

Your heart broke a little and your eyes stung a bit. He wasn’t upset that he had to go to the dance..he was upset that you wouldn’t be there to accompany him. “Oh baby…I’m so sorry” you whispered. All he did was shrug and grumble to himself, which is what he did when he didn’t want to outright tell you he was sad. “You know I would love to be your date Katsuki…I wouldn’t want to be anything more. But I can’t..we both know that.”

While Japan was making leaps and bounds in its recovery, its reputation in the eyes of other countries was still extremely damaged. After the death of Star and Stripe, all travel to Japan was halted indefinitely in your country. Not to mention, due to the aftermath of America’s number one’s death, as a hero student, you had to fight against the villains that tried to take advantage of the gap she left behind. Between the travel ban and your responsibilities, not to mention general travel costs, there was no possible chance you would be able to accompany Katsuki.

“Yeah, I know…just wish I could dance with you, that’s all. Wanna see you all dressed up and shit.”

All you could do was smile sadly at the camera and muster as much hope as you could for the both of you. “Maybe one day…especially since we’re both graduating soon.”

It was silent for a moment, both of you sitting in your own disappointment. You glanced at the clock, seeing the time and knowing that it was way past the time Katsuki usually slept, so he must be exhausted. But before you let him go, you just had to ask.

"Kats...can you even dance?"

His face filled the screen, eyebrows pulled together in offense. "HUH? What the fuck are you talking about?" You couldn't help but smile at him, and the heaviness of the prior conversation lifted off both of your shoulders. "I'm just asking!" " Of course I can dance! The fuck do you take me for??" "Okay prove it!"

Before he could respond, Katsuki yawned and you took that as your cue. You gave him a warm smile, depsite the fact that he was still glaring at you. " You can show me your moves tommorrow-" " m'not showing you shit-' "Tomorrow! I want to see what you got! Now go to bed, I'll text you later. Love you!"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. But seeing how goofy and happy you were made him smile slightly. " Love you too. Talk later."

---------

part two coming soon! lmk if you want to be notified

[pixiesholloworld]

✘The tow truck driver?!✘

synopsis : Incoming text from - Toji 🛻 “i wasnt gonna tell you, but you’re fucking hot. but im honestly a hoe and only want one thing.. 🍆💦”

cw: daddy kink, fingering, head (giving/reciving), brat taming?, f!reader

the check engine light has been on for the past month, but you’ve repeatedly ignored it. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right? well, your consistent neglect of the light has landed you in this situation. 

stranded on the shoulder of the highway waiting for some shady tow truck driver to come to your rescue, he was your cheapest option, and when you saw his old beat up truck speeding towards you, you quickly understood why. he came to a stop as he approached, rolling down his passenger window to get a good look at you. 

“you [✿]?”, the brown rust corroded the hood of his car, causing flakes to peel off with the wind. you can’t even imagine what the truck could’ve looked like in it's glory, it was hard to believe years of neglect left the truck in this state— it's almost like he bought it this way. “yeah,” you answered, “are you toji?”

“what’s it look like?” you search the truck to see the faded out: ‘Toji’s Towing’. “oh”

“ya waitin’ for an invite?”

you open the car door to see crumbled-up wrappers from obscure burger joints and empty beer cans—the rubbish, let alone the smell of *sniff* *sniff*… man contorted your face. toji must’ve taken notice of this because it made him chuckle. “excuse the mess, sweetheart,” his raspy voice curling over his words, “you don’t mind, do ya?”

“not at all,” you awkwardly smile. you felt kind of bad for him, honestly. he hooked his crane up to the front of your car and, before pulling off, lit a cigarette. his shoulders were broad and his arms looked strong and heavy, he didn’t have an AC in his car, either that or it didn’t work, so the hot summer air blew in both of your faces 

his black locks stayed all but too far from his face, allowing you to get a glimpse of the scar that marks his lip, his emerald eyes focusing on the road ahead. 

you felt weird for staring at him after a while and didn’t want him to notice, so you averted your gaze to the road, watching the cars pass by you two. you wondered though, how could a hunk like him get in this position. 

“so, you grew up’round here?” He asks

“a little ways from here, i stay with my mom in a duplex”

“nice, where ya comin’ from?”

“my job, i work as a barista at the mall”

“s’ bit far for work don’t you think”

you smile at how easily he set himself up, “you drive a tow truck”

you turn towards him to see a smirk creeping up on his face, he blows out smoke and holds his cigarette out

“fair,” he pulls another drag before putting it out in what you can only assume to be a homemade ashtray, “you got anyone that can look at this for ya at home?” he says gesturing towards your car

“mm no, i was gonna take it to the shop”

he clicks his teeth and sneers, “those punks don’t know the first thing about cars”

“where do you think i should go then?”

he glances over at you before returning his attention to the road, “i’ll look at it for ya”

—

after that convo the rest of the drive was silent, though you both exchanged stolen glances here and there. you tried to tell yourself it was nothing to overthink, though the stirs in your stomach were telling you otherwise. it was hard to act like having an older man’s attention wasn’t somewhat enticing 

when he finally got to your house, he backed your car into the driveway. you couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of relief. though it was nice talking to him, you couldn’t wait to get out of that dump of a tow truck. it made you consider taking those AAA charges next time 

he steps out of the truck and walks around to let you out. when you see his full body for the first time, you’re a bit taken aback. sure he looked ok in the truck, but he looked even better out of it. he had a tall muscular build, and he had to be around 6 feet. how was his truck hiding so much height from your eyes? You shook any remaining amazement from your face and stepped out, hurrying past him to try and avert your gaze

“so what happened anyways, what’s wrong with it?” he immediately walks past you to your car and starts inspecting it

“the engine light was on but.. i thought it would just go away on its own..” you reluctantly admit

“silly girl,” the rasp in his voice making your heart jump, “you should’ve taken this’t the shop when you first saw it” he struts over to you and lays his hand out, you look at his hand and then back up to his captivating eyes, “the keys?” he says.

“oh, yeah, right, right” you hand him the keys, and he turns the car on, popping the hood. you watch as his clothes cling to him, his long, black hair hanging over his face as he inspects different parts of your engine. you notice as he reaches into the engine, his tanned hands become stained with a black substance. it’s kinda hot. when you actually get a good look at him at this angle… he isn’t a bad-looking guy, he’s a little ruff around the edges, sure, but you like that about him

“i might have’ta take this to my shop, really gotta get under there n’figure out what’s going on”

you could name something else you wanted him to get under too, but you quickly shoved that thought in your back pocket, “how much is that gonna be” 

“usually i charge a pretty penny but for you,” he says while wiping his hands on a dirty rag that was stuffed in his pocket, “i’ll do it for free”

“really? oh my god thank you so much”

“s’no problem doll, i should probably get going before it gets too dark though”

you can feel your heart pounding from anticipation not quite wanting him to leave yet

“y-yeah sure, but um… wouldn’t you like to eat first?”

he closes your car hood and smirks

“whatcha cookin?”

—

you turn the keys to your house before inviting him in, he winks at you and makes himself comfortable at the kitchen's island. you walk past him and pull out lukewarm potatoes, you can feel him stare at you as you walk back and forth between the different drawers and potatoes. you tried to focus on what you were doing and tried to think of other things, but your mind would always wonder back to the idea of him bending you over and fucking the living daylights out of you 

you try to sneak a glance at toji but it doesn't work he's still staring just as intensely as before and snickers at your futile attempt to look without him knowing. "somethin' you wanna say, sweetheart?" he asks, words laced with lust

'yeah, i want you to fuck my brains out' some request that is huh? instead, you ask something more appropriate, "could you come peel the potatoes?" so there you two are side by side peeling potatoes, weakly fighting the urge to ask if he's feeling the same way you're feeling. your thoughts suddenly come to a halt though when you realize he's old enough to be married, even so when you peep at his hand, you see no ring, but he's definitely old enough to be somebody's dad.. who are you kidding, you love DILFs 

you go on and on internally struggling on if it would be morally correct to fuck a stranger—a tow truck driver—until he makes the first move for you, his hand slithering along your back to grab your hip, "where's your bathroom at? 've gotta drain the snake" 

"yeah its uh, right around the corner over there"

"thanks doll" he whispers into your ear before squeezing your hip and moving so close past you that you can feel his bulge before he slips away. you were at a loss for words. like actually your mind had went blank, what were you even supposed to do with that?

let him come back to your sprawled out naked body on the kitchen floor? but on second thought you had an even better idea, he clearly wanted you to feel that he was hard cause he feels that you're too scary to make a move. something he didn't know though is that you loved to play the long game and you could tease him all night if you had to

when he comes back, he sees you trying to reach the very top of your cabinet. you can hear his heavy foot steps stop right behind you before he rests a hand on your hips and pulls you close to his warm pelvis. "need help?" he asks. you look up at this tall, buffed up man, and he looks right back down at you

"could you hand me the paper towels up there?"

he hands them to you, but not before pressing himself against you, letting his hard-on poke between your cheeks. you could feel your heart skipping a million miles per minute, your cunt wildly throbbing between your legs, a tiny whimper escaping your lips when he backs away, leaving the paper towels in front of you

defeated, you walk back to the potatoes. how could you tease him back? oh, the bottom cabinet! you quickly plop down, and before he could notice you tug at the bottom of his jumpsuit pants, he looks down and is obviously flustered. you sat on your knees, looking at him with such ardor in your eyes "i need to get another bowl" you say while pointing towards the cabinet, a sneaky smile spreading across your face. "hm?" he says while bending down to your level, "I let you slide the first time, but I think you're forgetting somethin'"

confusion filled your face trying to figure out what it was you could've been missing until he grabs your face pulling you a bit closer to him

"where's your manners at girl?"

oh he was good at this

"what happens if i don't use 'em?"

"might need to train that pretty little mouth of yours"

"yeah? how're you gonna do that?"

he snickers at you, standing up while still holding your face in his big, calloused hand, "whatchu think?"

so there you are, taking every inch of his thick cock in your mouth as his hand holds the back of your head, making sure to push down when he wants to hear that slutty throat struggle to take all of him in 

“so this s’what all that staring was for?” he teases, “what a nasty girl, sucking on a stranger’s cock”

you hum contently, hands lightly grazing against his thighs as saliva collects at his base, slowly dripping onto your tiled floor

he groans while picking up the pace, “such a mess, you like the taste of it? hm? yeah you do”

you gag and hum against him, letting his angry tip bully the back of your throat. you just started, and you're already cock drunk, moaning and twisting your head around while you use your mouth to grip around his length tighter. 

he sucks air through his teeth, letting barely audible ‘fucks’ escape his breath while steadily rolling his hips into your mouth. you use your tongue to  dance around one of his throbbing veins, enjoying how it interrupts his rhythm, making him thrust faster and faster until a sudden mean pop snatches his hips away from your mouth 

he bends down to slip his tongue into your mouth, stealing the taste of his precum right from your mouth. you tongue him back a bit more eagerly, feeling around his teeth and the scar on his mouth until his lips depart 

“you’re so greedy” he teases, “didn’t your throat training teach you anything?”

“please, please kiss me toji” you didn’t think your pussy could take anymore teasing, you could feel how it beat against your squished thighs longing for his touch

he must’ve felt the same cause he stands you up on your feet and moves you on top of the island, snaking your pants off and pulling your slick cunt close to him in the process. “you gotta earn it, princess”, he taunts your clothed entrance with his tip before gracing you with one more kiss 

“put it in, please put it in” you couldn’t wait any longer and started slowly grinding yourself on the tip until, of course, a mean smack to your mound caused you to freeze. you look up at toji and see annoyance plastered on his face. you ooze at the seriousness on his face, waiting for him to say something 

“just for that, i’m not fuckin’ you”

“WHAT! no, please i’m sorry please toji im-“ he covers your mouth with one hand and moves the other towards your wet, sticky folds, collecting a bit of the slick before moving it around your pulsating clit.

he made deep circular motions on it, making you whine every time he hit the peak. your eyes rolled back, and you let him completely take over. your hips stuttering to his touch, he then moved closer, leaving kisses along your ear and down your neck, nipping at the skin 

though you didn’t know your muffled moans were making it hard for toji to stay focused on teasing you, the truth is he was about to cum earlier while you were on your knees. sitting so innocently while taking all of him in you, the way your pretty eyes would flutter at his praise or how you’d scrunch your nose when you pushed your head down more, not to mention that tongue trick you did earlier, instead of thinking about it, he decided to return the favor 

he moves down to your panties and moves them aside, covetously looking up at those same eyes that made his tip leak beads of precum. “that’s it baby, keep those pretty eyes on me,"  he starts slowly at first, his pointed tongue moving up your folds, slowly moving your legs further apart while keeping eye contact. the familiar feeling of haze started filling your mind as desperate moans echoed through your kitchen 

he groans into you, knowing the vibrations will probably make you cum faster, and he gently suckles on your wet bulb, listening to how sweetly you moan out his name. grabbing a fist full of his hair, you push him in deeper, chasing an end you didn't know toji wasn't going to let you reach just yet. 

he stops sucking and instead sticks one finger inside your drenched cunt, moving it ever so slowly while he moves a pointed tongue in swirls on your clit his finger eventually picks up the pace, so he slips two in, then three. he had a merciless tempo, curing his fingers around your g-spot just to hear those pretty little moans 

"m'gonna cum toji~" you'd whine out, but he'd rapidly shake his head against your sopping wet clit and slap your mound, telling you to wait. to say you were drowning in pleasure would be an understatement. you felt hot all over, and with every thrust, you were sure you were going to break. eventually your moans became cries for a release. he turned you into a dripping wet mess, and he loved every bit of it until, of course, you said the magic words 

"please let me cum daddy— fuck!~"

he lifts his head up almost instantly though he's still drilling his fingers through your pussy, "say that again?"

"please let me cum" you whimper, you don't know how much longer you can hold back

"nah girl, the other thing" he stands up, towering over you even as you're seating on the counter. his fingers pump into you slower but deeper, taunting your g-spot

"daddy" you whisper, he brings his other hand to your face and brings you in for a sloppy kiss loving how you moan into his mouth

"atta girl," he pulls his fingers out but the fullness is instantly replaced with his fat, rock hard cock. you felt him tear though you so easily, you desperately pull him in closer while looking at him through half lidded eyes. "look at you, so desperate for daddy's dick" he'd tease

"all fucked out n'still begging f'more" he pulled you in for another kiss and left his tongue slithering in your mouth while he pumped faster, holding you tightly as you struggled to keep up with his kisses. he moved a hand up to your face and held it in place as he tongued you, you felt a smile spread across his face as you struggled to keep it together until all you could do was wail into his mouth

his pace was harsh and unrelenting he fucked you like he was angry at you, punching your cervix with such vigor and gusto, you moaned louder practically screaming but all he did was move his mouth to your ear and whisper.

"that's it princess let it out, you're making sucha mess of yourself on me," you squeeze tighter at his words feeling your body go limp at the over stimulation, "you wanna cum on me?"

you shake your head yes almost instantaneously and he moves his head to look directly at you, moving his hand down to your clit, covering it in slick before rubbing it in circles. "go ahead," he coos, "cum on daddy's dick— sh-shit"

he keeps rolling his hips into you until you finally come to your shaky finish, leaving scratches on his skin as you try to grasp your way back into reality with toji following close behind, loudly groaning and pulling out before fisting himself over your stomach releasing thin milky shoots of cum

he holds you close to him and leaves kisses on your head before helping you off the counter, it was weird feeling the ground under you again the sudden rush of blood making your legs feel like jello

"so about your car,"

right, shit he was in here to eat FOOD and go home not fuck you

"ill probably be able to fix it by tomorrow, n'maybe come drop it back off," he says while slipping his jumpsuit back on, "unless you wanna come to mine instead”

"you'd love that wouldn't you"

"think your pussy would like it more" he teases, pulling you closer to him. he was gonna turn you on all over again until you heard the front door open

[tinyluvs]

Being spencer’s girlfriend and meeting the team for the first time? I think it would be cute!!!! 🫶🏻

it WOULD be super cute! thank you so much! i got huge sibling vibes from the team while writing this so hope that’s okay too!

the tray holding yours and your boyfriends coffee wobbles slightly in your hand as the elevator doors ping open, giving you full view of the bau offices, your eyes widening when you realise just how big it was

caught up with staring you almost forget to actually step out of the elevator, the doors sliding shut just as you manage to pass through them, somehow keeping hold of the coffee's as you do

suddenly it dawns on you that you don't really know where to find spencer. big glass doors separate you from the offices and people whizz up and down the hallway behind you, none of them paying the slightest bit of attention to you

you use your shoulder to push the doors open just enough to squeeze through and when you turn you realise the office is mostly empty, a few people sat at desks but luckily, spencer is there too, stood by what you assume is his desk, looking down at a chess board

"hi," you greet him quietly as you walk up to him, your voice muffled by your, his, scarf that's snug around your neck, "spence," you say slightly louder when he doesn't acknowledge you

he turns, looking thoroughly confused, his features softening when he notices you just feet away from him, "hey honey, what are you doing here?" he asks, rushing to take the small tray of coffee out of your hands before you drop it

pulling at the scarf you start unraveling it from around your front, "well you forgot your lunch, so i was going to bring it but then i also forgot it," you explain, cheeks reddening, "so instead i got pastries and coffee" you finish, waving a paper bag in his direction with a smile

spencer chuckles at you, "thank you," he wraps an arm around you, pulling you in, his lips pressing against your forehead, "is it snowing outside?" he asks, pulling away, his eyes darting to the window and then back at you

"how'd you know?" you question, head titling slightly

gentle fingers push your baby hairs back, "you have snow in your hair sweetheart," he says softly, his fingers dropping to wrap around your wrist, pulling you into the small space by his desk, "here, sit" he reaches over to grab an empty wheelie chair from the desk next to his

with a soft sigh you fall back into the seat, it rolls back slightly, the back hitting the edge of the desk, "where is everyone?" you ask, watching your boyfriend sit directly in front of you, your knees bumping his

"uh," he looks around while you pull pastries from the bag, "they must all be on lunch" he comes to a conclusion with a slight shrug, "it's never usually this quiet"

you slide the bag over to him and pull your knees up to your chest before balancing your croissant on your knee while you turn to grab your coffee, making sure you have the one with less sugar in it

slowly your chair starts to spin, spencer's eyes widening slightly as it does. he shuffles closer, extending his legs either side of you, holding you in place, "where did you get these?" he asks, eyeing up his apricot danish which already has a bite missing

"the market," you answer with a nod, "we have to go there this week, please," you smile softly, knowing full well he would never dream of saying no to you

spencer's eyes flicker up, behind you and then back to you, "of course, honey" he says as other voices start to fill the office space, "they're back"

your eyes widen at him, not daring to look over your shoulder at the people. somehow you sink further into your chair, the huge scarf falling around you like a blanket. meeting the bau was inevitable but not right now, not while you have flakes of pastry over your leggings and snow soaking your hair

"hey guys," spencer smiles slightly as people start to wander over. in your head you start naming them, emily and jj come over first, david and aaron on their tails and behind them, penelope with derek's arm thrown around her shoulder

"hey kid, you didn't tell us you were expecting company," david says, standing behind your boyfriend, hands on his shoulders while the older man smiles at you

"well actual-"

"aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?" derek says, teasing, like a sibling would. spencer scowls at him, though there's no heat behind it, causing you to giggle into your coffee

you can tell spencer contemplates just saying no but eventually he sighs, "honey, this is the bau," he gestures at his colleagues and you stifle a laugh, "guys, this is my girlfrien-"

"girlfriend?!" penelope shrieks, cutting spencer off. she shakes derek off of her to move closer, "oh my, you're gorgeous! how long? why didn't i know?" she finishes, whacking spencer on the shoulder

aaron and david pat your boyfriend on the back, like fathers would before brushing past, sending you gentle smiles as they do, retreating back to their offices.

the girls, plus morgan, pull up their own chairs, forming a sort of semi circle in front of you. "so, spill," emily says, gesturing between you and spencer

"what do you want to know," spencer replies, ripping an iced bun in half. he offers you the bigger bit, smiling to himself when you ooh excitedly.

jj sighs, exasperated but still light hearted, "how you met, how long you've been together, everything spence, c'mon"

"we met at a farmers market, he accidentally ran into me, spilt hot," you shoot a look at your boyfriend who stares at his lap with a slight smile, "chocolate down me but then he bought me flowers to say sorry and i was a goner from there," you explain

penelope opens her mouth but spencer beats her to it, "sunflowers"

"that was," you trail off, thinking, "just over a year ago now" you know spencer too well, already looking at him, eyebrow raised, "go on"

"four hundred and two days and counting" he says with a grin, leaning over slightly to brush crumbs off of your scarf

derek holds his hands up, "hold on, you've had a girlfriend for over a year and never thought to mention it" he says, the others nodding in agreement

"aaron and david knew," you slide into the conversation, throwing spencer under the bus, he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“why would you say that?” spencer asks you desperately, you shrug and sit back, watching as jj, emily and morgan burst into chatter, offended that they weren't told while penelope silently scoots over to you

"is that the scarf i made him?" she asks and you nod, knowing it was her christmas gift to him last year, "ohmygod, i'm going to make you a matching one, don't argue, you won't win!" she says all smiley

"when were you going to tell us? at your wedding?"

"no! it jus-"

"boy, do not say it just didn't come up, do not make me smack you in front of your girlfriend"

jj stands, rolling her eyes at the boys arguing while emily jumps in every now and then, fuelling the fire, "great to meet you, we will arrange a girls night soon"

"oh yes, of course! lovely to meet you, finally" you laugh before she wanders away from the scene still unfolding, "are they always like this?" you ask penelope, offering her the bag of goodies

"oh you're my new favourite person," she hums, taking a donut from the bag, "and yes, they're always like this, welcome to the chaos, enjoy your stay"

leaning back in your seat to fully observe, you scoff, "oh i will"

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

[maxlarens]

pairing(s): lando norris x driver!reader

okay haven't teased this anywhere but i needed a little warm up to get back into writing as i basically haven't written a full sentence in a week. it has felt like so much longer tbh😭 (hmm also this is a driver!reader AU? like rb driver!reader)

Lucky. Lucky.

You’re supposed to feel lucky that you’ve been accepted into this apparently exclusive boys club. That’s what people tell you (unprompted) at least. You’re supposed to be glad that Mad Max Verstappen has accepted you as one of his own. Hasn’t shunted you to the side in favour of a more experienced teammate.

You’re supposed to be glad that he’s also accepted you into his social circle. This place you were never supposed to be, that no one ever expected you to be.

And you are. You are.

Max is a good friend. Charles, Alex, George too. You’re a fairly fresh rookie, you’re a girl, and it’s nice to be accepted so readily into this space. It’s not all smooth sailing, but they’re kind, supportive, always ready to offer advice, for the most part.

It’s just—

well, Lando.

You’d not quite realised the depth of his friendship with Max. The amount of stuff he’d also be invited to. Nights out, dinners, Discord calls, late night iRacing sessions, pádel—

Always pádel,

and here’s the thing. You have to go.

It’s competitive, you’re keeping score. You’ve never ever been any good at backing down from a fight. It’s simply not an option to flake or give up entirely just because you hate Lando Norris’ guts. That would be showing weakness, that would basically be rolling over and showing your fucking belly.

You’re not weak. You’re not a coward.

So you’re here.

Knees bent, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Padel racket discarded on the court next to you. Lando and his Max have won. You’re tired and you’re sweaty and you’re pissed. Honestly, you’d rather not have your Max as a teammate. He sucks. Plain and simple. He’s four lanky limbs bouncing around the court with utterly no coordination. He’s too focused on the ball, so much that he forgets about the walls and the net and you. You’d taken at least two tumbles after he’d knocked into you today. No harm no foul, but you’re too competitive to be happy with him currently.

If you had to pick anyone as a teammate it would honestly have to be

Lando.

You can see his sneakers, somehow McLaren branded, in your peripheral vision. You sigh, tip your head back to look up at him, trying to stymie the scowl on your lips.

“Good game,” he holds a hand out to help you up, a tight little smirk on his face because he knows how you feel about losing.

You roll your eyes, take the hand anyway. Not bothering to wipe your hand free of sweat and letting him heave as much of your weight as possible.

“Yeah,” you bite, “Might’ve won if playing with Verstappen wasn’t like dragging dead weight.”

He lets out a laugh, rare from him when he’s around you. Looks at you, almost through his dark eyelashes, green eyes bright, reflective in the light, like he’s—

You stifle that thought before it can bloom into anything that might get away from you.

His particularly long canine pokes out from his upper lip, you watch him suppress a smile. Think for a moment about how you might not mind if one of his smiles were directed at you. You bite down on your tongue, curl a hand into a fist, your fingernails digging into your palm.

“Y’know,” he says, shoulders rolling with a kind of nervous energy, his face betraying nothing of it, “I reckon we’d be a good team. Especially against the Maxes’. We’d thrash ‘em I bet.”

You raise an eyebrow, stare at him a little dumbfounded for a little too long. So long that he opens his mouth to backtrack, to make a snide remark, something.

You shake your head, shrug, “Yeah. I guess. Might work if we didn’t hate each other.”

“Dunno,” he answers, rubbing his chin, “Might work anyway. Wouldn’t hate you so much if you made me a winner.”

You feel like something sharp hits you in the chest, leaves you a little winded. You try to let it roll off your back, hum evenly in response, “Mm, touché, Norris.”

He sends you another smirk, a punchy thing that makes you feel like your insides are on fire. Leaves you burning.

short i know! but it was just a warm up😭 hope u guys enjoyed anyway, i’ll def write more of them one day!!! rivals to lovers is delish🥰 also ugh it felt so good to write something ive been missing it

[jobean12-blog]

Life is Good

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 999

Summary: Bucky loves to take care of you even if it means he has to get out of the the warm and cozy bed but he'll be keeping it warm for when you get home.

Author's Note: My sweet friend @sgt-seabass shared this absolutely lovely and adorable tik tok with me and just made me think of this softness with Bucky and Alpine. Thank you love! And thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: soft sweet fluff and warm and fuzzy 😁

“You don’t have to bring me to work Buck. Stay in bed!”

Alpine meows in agreement and stretches himself out in the warm spot Bucky just vacated.

“Nah doll face. I’ll take you. I don’t want you going out in this alone.”

You stare at him as he sits sleepily on the edge of the bed and yawns, the backdrop of the neighboring buildings obscured by the flakes of snow fluttering wildly outside but doing little to distract from his perfection.

“Bucky.”

“Doll.”

He gives you a lopsided smile and crooks his finger at you before patting his thigh.

You walk between his legs and sit, curling against his bare chest, still warm from sleep.

“Just need a hug before we go.”

You hum happily into his skin with a soft inhale.

“I should call out…”

“You should.”

“But I have to get this project done.”

“I know baby doll.”

“Alpine?” you ask and peek over Bucky’s shoulder at the white fluff sprawled out on the bed.

The cat doesn’t even lift his head up.

“We all know his answer,” Bucky chuckles. “He’d stay in bed all day.”

You place a soft kiss to Bucky’s neck and nuzzle closer.

“Honestly. Hugs were the best and worst idea. I do not want to get up,” he says. “Ever again.”  

“Yeah, I know. Now I’m extra comfy and in my happy place.”

You feel the satisfied rumble that moves through his chest before he presses his thumb under your chin and tilts your face up to capture your lips in a toe-curling kiss.

“Bucky,” you murmur against his mouth.

“Uh huh, I know,” he sighs, kissing you again before he gently sets you down on the bed.

“Gimme five to wash up and change and we’ll go.”

Once Bucky is dressed he appears in the living room and looks you over.

“Do you have everything you need?” he asks.

“Yup!”

He crowds your space and pulls your hat down over your ears before tightening your scarf.

“Lunch?”

“Yes Bucky,” you answer sweetly and pat your bag.

“Snacks?”

He then pulls your gloves from your jacket pockets and motions for your hands.

“Of course,” you reply.

When he has your gloves secured he gives you one more check and nods approvingly.

“Ok, let’s go.”

He gets himself dressed, of course with fewer accessories than you, and holds the door open while reaching out for your hand.

“Bye Alpine,” you yell.

Bucky walks you to the train station, takes the train with you and then walks you to your building before kissing you until you’re overheating. He watches you get inside and waves through the large glass panes until you disappear into the elevator.

The day flies by thanks to all that you have to do but you’re productive and manage to finish early. With excited steps you walk toward the elevator, contemplating calling Bucky to let him know you’re leaving. He insisted on coming back to get you and take you home but you want to surprise him and decide you can make it home just fine on your own.

Your trip back is uneventful and when you reach the door to your apartment you can already smell the familiar aroma of your favorite comfort meal. With a smile you unlock the door and walk inside, softly calling Bucky’s name.

When he doesn’t answer you toe off your shoes and whip off all your warm weather garments then walk to the crock pot on the counter and lift the lid, inhaling with contentment.

The bedroom door is wide open and as you get closer you can see Bucky’s bare foot dangling off the edge of the bed. You inch closer with quiet steps and find him laid out on top of the comforter in nothing but his black boxers.

The curtains that normally cover the large window next to the bed are pushed haphazardly aside, allowing the soft brightness of the snow to bathe the room in a white glow. Everything you can see outside is lined with a neat new edge of dazzling crystals.

As pretty as it all is your eyes quickly move back to the bed and Bucky.

His metal hand is curled around your pillow and his face is smushed into it. Alpine is laying in the small space between Bucky’s bent leg and his arm with all four legs straight out and his furry belly gently rising and falling with his even breathing.

You stare for a few moments before taking your phone out and snapping a photo.

“New lock screen?” Bucky mumbles as he slowly shifts and opens his eyes.

“Definitely,” you giggle.

“How come you didn’t call me doll?”

His voice is stern even though his face is half hidden in your pillow.

“I was done early and wanted to surprise you…surprise!”

He grumbles something about ‘next time you better call because blah blah’ and trails off.

“Get over here doll.”

“That’s my pillow,” you tease.

“Smells so good,” he murmurs with one last nuzzle before holding out his arms and making grabby hands.

You curl into him and after several kisses you ask, “did you fall asleep reading again?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I got the food in the crock pot, had a snack or two then decided to read while I waited for you to call and well…”

“Thank you for cooking. It smells so good.”

“Of course baby doll. It’ll be ready soon.”

“Mm. I don’t want to get up yet.”

“Me either.”

“Meow.”

Alpine stretches and presses himself closer into Bucky while lightly kneading the comforter.

“Hi furball,” you giggle. “Did you help daddy cook?”

Bucky scoffs playfully and tugs you closer into his embrace.

“He’s been in the same spot since you left!”

“He’s living the life!” you muse.

Bucky slides his face closer to yours and holds your gaze while he delicately traces a finger along the curve of your jaw.

“It’s the best life,” he murmurs against your lips.

@lizette50 @buckysdollforlife @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @kmc1989 @haileygarciasunshine

[emmyrosee]

For Sakusa, lunch is extremely sacred.

He likes his food a certain way, arranged strategically and kept nice and protected in his bento until the time comes to eat it.

And thankfully, you thrive on providing him that protection, giving his lunch a spin on a dish made with love, a sweet for dessert, and a small note with a little flirt or a inspirational message from you.

Depends on the day.

Today seems no different, you pass him his bento with a kiss all over his face, a small bite of his cheeks and a pinch to his side to make him squeak, sending him off and letting him go about his day.

Your texts are feral, you remind him to drink water, nothing seems astray.

Until lunch. He tells you it’s time for lunch, and you tell him to enjoy.

booger 🤢 enjoy baby!!

We’re better when we stick together 🩷

Huh?

“Mind if I steal some sanitizer, Sakusa-San?” Hinata asks, and kiyoomi gives a wave of his hand, pausing his watching.

“Knock yourself out champ.”

He hears the faint squirt of his hand sanitizer being squeezed, but there’s a noise of confusion from Hinata’s lips that quickly follows.

“Uh… Sakusa-san?” Hinata squeaks, chewing his lip nervously. Kiyoomi raises his brow as he finishes washing his hands. “Did… did something happen to your hand sanitizer?”

“What’re you talking about?” He asks, making his way back to the bench. Hinata shows him his palm, but nothing looks wrong. He hums in confusion before squirting a bit of the sanitizer into his own palm, before gagging at the texture.

It’s clear, yes, with small flakes of glitter, and sure it should’ve been a red flag because he hates glitter, and-

Sticky. Why was it sticky?

He gives it a big sniff and scrunches his face in displeasure.

It’s glue. You put goddamned glue in his hand sanitizer.

“Son of a bitch,” he snickers, licking his teeth. “Fuckin’ put glue all over my shit. Little rat.”

Hinata cocks his brow as he plays with the glue, “wait… you’re not mad?”

“Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “They’re just a damn troublemaker. Always messing with my stuff.” He grabs a paper towel and nods at Hinata, “you guys go on and eat. I’ve got scolding to do.”

“Be nice,” he chuckles, but he quickly bounces out of the room to be with his teammates just a few feet away.

Kiyoomi wastes no time in taking out his phone, his fingers flying to your contact and immediately pressing call. There’s a part of him that wonders if you think he’ll be mad and won’t answer, or maybe you just don’t want to answer and you know he’ll chase you in playful rage when he gets home.

Thankfully, you do answer. He’s quick to smack on a mad facade.

“Hey, booger-“

“I can’t believe you mess with my things,” he snips, and tries to ignore the way his cheeks heat up as you cackle on your end of the phone. “This isn’t funny! You’re feral, and you’re officially banned from making my bentos!”

“Yeah, okay,” You snort, and he can’t help but smile at your words. “You love my lunches. You just hate to admit you’re a sucker for chivalry.”

“So messing with my lunch routine is chivalrous?”

“It is when you didn’t replace the toilet paper in the bathroom.”

Kiyoomi falls silent, unable to come up with anything to rebuttal your point. On the other side of the line, he practically feels you smirk.

“Oh.”

“Yeah oh,” you tease over the line. “You’re lucky you’re pretty. If I can’t have a clean ass, you don’t get to have clean hands.”

That, has him breaking down into a fit of laughter, starting with a snort and developing into loud cackles that he feels his teammates looking at him for.

“You’re so stupid,” he laughs, looking down at the glitter glue filled sanitizer. “Did you have to put glitter in it?”

“I came to win, Kiyoomi. I play chess, not checkers.”

“Okay, well, you won,” he groans. Then, he’s quiet as a smirk grows on his face, “you know I’m gonna have to get you back for this right?”

“Oh shut up. You love being bothered and you know it.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to chase you around the house, pin you down and tickle you until you piss yourself, babe.”

You go quiet, he knows he’s got you flustered now, but you let out an excited squeak and chuckle.

“It’s a date.”

——-

Tagging you 🩵 @reverie-starlight @wolffmaiden @thoreeo @aliensknowmyillusions @tutuwusworld @lavishcherie @sassycheesecake @cheolattes @rrairey @dira333 @unknownspecies

[foone]

You know what I hate about modern mice? how pointlessly anti-repair they are. I have had plenty of mice break over time, and often it's just that some fluff or skin-flakes got wedged in the mouse wheel or under the buttons. You just need to open them up and clean them. Except.. where are the screws?

OH THERE THEY ARE. under the little skid-pads, which cannot be put back on once you take them off, because the adhesive has been ruined! You have to buy replacement pads, if they're available, and maybe cut them down to size, as well as clean off the residue of the previous pads.

You know how this problem could be fixed? JUST DON'T PUT THE PADS ON TOP OF THE SCREWS!

Then you'd have no problem. Easy to disassemble and clean.

But then it'd look 5% uglier because apparently people are scared of seeing screws, and also people might not just throw it out and buy a new one!

It's the terrible sort of weird planned obsolescence that happens as an almost accidental side effect of improving the product. Like, ball mice? They were designed to be disassembled. You didn't even need a screwdriver! Because you had to clean them regularly, or they'd gunk up too fast. Modern optical mice? They still get gunked up, the buttons and wheel still die eventually. They can be cleaned and repaired. But now that it's not required for all of them to be cleaned regularly, that function has been removed. they're designed to be disposable.

The same thing happened with TVs way back when. If you open up a TV from the 50s (or just look at the back, honestly, many of them were designed to be always-open), you'll find a schematic showing where all the tubes are and what models they are. Was this because the 1950s was a golden era of reparability? NO! it's because they burnt out all the time and you had to replace them! As soon as TVs got reliable enough that replacing tubes was no longer needed, the schematics became hidden behind paywalls and for authorized-service-personnel-only.

It would be only a minor change in aesthetics to make your mouse repairable/cleanable. Hell, most of the time when it's not simply fixed by cleaning it, it's because one of these broke:

This is an Omron D2FC-F-7N microswitch, used in a bunch of mice. It's designed to last about a million clicks. With a soldering iron and some solder (like 25$ on amazon) you can trivially replace it. New switches cost between like 10 cents and 2 dollars, depending where you buy it and how many you want. A couple bucks of parts and half an hour's worth of work, you can repair a 40$ mouse that's "died".

But they make it unnecessarily hard with the slide-pads being unreplacable. You have to find ones that match, you have to carefully clean off the old residue with IPA, or the new ones you just bought will fall off. All to make it look SLIGHTLY better (how often are you looking at the aesthetics of the bottom of your mouse, exactly? (no furries are allowed to answer this question!)) and maybe, just maybe, to push it over into "not worth it". You could do all that, but you have to buy new switches, new slide-pads/mouse-feet (SHUT UP FURRIES), and can you remember where your solder even is? you last used it when you were trying to fix that keyboard...

Basically one thing that is maddening to anyone with the very basics of electronic knowledge (seriously: the amount of skill you need for this is the kind you can get in less than an hour from watching a youtube tutorial) that we're surrounded by all this electrical nonsense that will break and have to be thrown out, but is mostly breaking in ways that could be fixed in a very short amount of time with relatively little work.

It's infuriating to go on amazon to buy another damn mouse and it pop up "hey you last bought this in 2021, you fool" and you're like I KNOW, IT SHOULD STILL BE WORKING TODAY!

I have computer parts from the 80s in my room right now that are still working when stuff made in the last 5 years is already dying! There's no reason it should be this way. It's an endless waste of time and money and resources and it's just to make some logitech or whoever executives slightly richer.

It's deeply bullshit. The modern day is going to be identifiable as the geological layer where most of the trash was generated. We're living in the middle of the quisquiliarumferous period: the layer of garbage.

[captainmalewriter]

XY

This story is a part of Occam's writing prompt challenge. I highly recommend y'all check out #occam2000 to read the other amazing entries by the other talented writers!!

LATEST REPORT ON RECENTLY DISCOVERED METAMORPHOSIS GENE 

Few things in this world are as beautifully intricate as human reproduction. However, it is not a perfect system. Any number of things could go wrong during the conception and/or birth of a human being, one of which includes genetic mutations. The chances of gene mutation are never zero. While modern-day doctors and scientists continue to fight the good fight of keeping harmful genetic disorders at bay, there is one particularly potent mutation a tiny percentage of the human population carries.

How long this mutation has existed within our gene pool is currently unknown. What is known is that although this malignant gene usually remains dormant within the human body, it can potentially rearrange an individual’s genetic composition and expression when active. Unfortunately, this information was only recently discovered after it had already wreaked havoc in [redacted]. The mutation has been dubbed the Metamorphosis (MM) gene. The MM gene is linked to the Y chromosome in humans. Fortunately, a male’s X chromosome usually functions as a suppressor, thereby keeping the malignant gene dormant in afflicted individuals. However, it is still possible for the MM gene to rekindle if certain conditions are met.

First, an afflicted male must lack the appropriate allele(s) for their X chromosome to properly function as a suppressor against the MM gene. Second, the individual’s body must be in a state of heightened activity due to intense physical exertion. Lastly, on a neurological level, the individual must experience high levels of dopamine, oxytocin, and norepinephrine (or, in simpler terms— love). Should all these conditions be met, the door opens for the MM gene to potentially awaken within the subject. 

As you may have already surmised, statistical probability works in our favor against the MM gene. Unfortunately, however, there remains a chance, regardless of how slight, that the proper conditions will align for this chaotic mutation to awaken and wreak havoc on both the carrier male as well as any surrounding, non-carrier parties. This was the case with one individual in the town of [redacted]. 

Numerous questions about how the MM gene operates and spreads among non-carriers despite being classified as a genetic disorder inundate microbiologists with, unfortunately, little to no answers at the time of this report. Further research into the matter remains a high priority. 

END REPORT 

***

It was supposed to be an ordinary day like any other when Geovanni R. Diaz stepped into the gym that afternoon. He drank his pre-workout in the front lobby while waiting for his friend/gym partner Evan Washington to arrive. The two men had met at the beginning of summer when they both started hitting the gym on the same day. They bonded over making fools of themselves as they misused several exercise machines. They became close friends and regular gym buddies since then. 

Some 20 minutes had passed, and Evan was still nowhere in sight. Geo finished the last few sips of his pre-workout and decided to start without him. It was common for Evan to flake out, especially as of late. While Geo initially shared Evan's casual approach to the gym, he eventually decided he wasn’t satisfied with doing the bare minimum. He took on an intense 60-day workout regime to really challenge himself. Evan supported his friend’s endeavor, but the differences in their goals eventually showed themselves when Evan regularly skipped days while Geo kept at it. He didn’t take it personally; he had grown used to it, although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss having someone to joke around with between sets. Regardless, Geo claimed a chest fly machine, powered up his headphones, and then proceeded to get to work. 

“Hey papi, mind if I work in with you?” 

Geo heard a familiar voice behind him as he finished his warm-up set. He smiled as he turned and saw Evan leaning against the machine. 

“Hey, handsome, I thought you weren’t coming today.” Geo stood up and embraced his close friend. 

“Wasn’t planning on it if I’m being totally honest, but then I decided maybe I’ve been skipping too many days and forced myself out of bed to come here. Did you just start?”

“Yeah man! It’s chest and shoulder day today so I figured I’d start with my favorite machine,” Geo looked at Evan with a grin. “Care to join me?” 

Evan only laughed in response. They both already knew the answer, but they enjoyed asking anyway as a joke. With that, they proceeded to go through Geo’s workout plan together. Naturally, Evan couldn’t keep up with Geo anymore and had to lower the weight after every set, but that didn’t stop them from enjoying their time together. By the end of the workout, they were both tired and sweaty in the locker room after hitting the weights hard.

“I have no idea how you manage to stay on track with this whole fitness challenge thing…” Evan huffed as he caught his breath. “I’d probably give up after the first day. You look good though! Your hard work is paying off and it really shows!”

“You think so?” Geo said as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “It’s hard to tell sometimes. I look in the mirror and I feel good, but then I stare at myself too long and I start worrying if I’m just lying to myself.”

“That’s just body dysmorphia talking, you look great!”

“Aw thank you Evan, you’re too kind.”

“Of course! Anytime you need reassurance, I’ll always be here.” 

Evan flashed Geo a broad smile, and he smiled back. A few minutes passed before Evan started talking again. 

“Hey, are you free tonight? I was thinking of making my world famous lasagna tonight, and I'd love to have you over for dinner.”

Geo stopped drying himself after he heard Evan say that. He turned slowly to Evan and saw him with a shy smile. The same smile formed on his face as he began to answer.

“I would love to have dinner with you, Evan. Of course I’ll come over tonight.”

Evan practically exploded with excitement. He ran to Geo for a hug, almost knocking him over due to the impact. Geo wrapped his arms around Evan and held him in a tight embrace. Their hugs always put Geo in a good mood. He was more than overjoyed to discover that Evan shared his feelings. He knew this hug would quickly become one of his top favorite memories. It was a tender moment between two men falling in love, which made it all the more noticeable when loud indigestion ended their sweet moment abruptly. Geo pulled away and held his stomach as he kneeled over in pain.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Evan asked. 

“Ugh… I’m fine. I think I just need a bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Geo ran off while Evan stayed behind in the locker room. Evan finished packing up their things while he waited. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty. Growing worried, Evan walked to the bathroom stalls to check on his beloved friend. He heard heavy, labored breathing coming from the only closed stall. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” 

Evan knocked on the stall door and found that it was unlocked. He pushed it open slightly. His jaw dropped to the floor when he found Geo naked and drenched in sweat on the tile floor. His eyes were clenched closed, and his face was distorted due to unbearable abdominal pain. Evan ran to his side. 

“What’s going on!? What’s wrong?” Evan asked with apparent urgency in his voice. Geo could barely get words out as he was too busy hyperventilating. 

“So… Hot…”

Evan held a hand against Geo’s forehead and almost immediately recoiled from how hot it was. Geo was running an extremely high fever, unlike anything he had ever seen! Evan’s eyes darted around the bathroom as he desperately sought solutions but couldn’t think of anything due to his panic. He was desperate. He knew he needed to act fast before—

“Ohhhh it hurts!!”

Geo’s sudden shriek stopped Evan’s negative line of thinking. At that moment, time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Evan’s gaze shot back to Geo. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw what was happening to his soon-to-be boyfriend. Unbeknownst to both of them, Geo was a carrier for the Metamorphosis gene, and all the right conditions were met for it to awaken. The gene was hard at work rearranging Geo’s DNA, and he began transforming right before their very eyes! 

It began with his body hair. Like the other men from the paternal side of his family, Geo had never been able to grow much body hair, if any. However, he did have the genes needed for ample body hair, and thanks to the MM gene, it was finally able to express itself. Thick, black hair began sprouting out of his legs in spurts. With each hair follicle that grew in, Geo’s legs grew just a little bit thicker than before, causing Geo to moan obscenely loud as a result. The accelerated hair growth traveled up his legs and into his crotch area where his pubic hair grew in at an alarming rate until he had a jungle of bushy pubes covering his groin. His hairy balls hung lower than before after growing in size and his cock grew an inch thicker in width. Within a few minutes his entire lower half was transformed. His legs became as strong as tree trunks, and with a new, well-endowed package to boot— all covered in a thick layer of hair too! 

The transformation wave continued to ripple throughout the rest of his body. Geo twisted and writhed on the floor as the rest of his body underwent rapid changes. A prominent happy trail formed on his lower abdomen, connecting his belly button and pubic region with a line of long, messy hair. His pecs grew more plump as hair ran up his ab line and onto the center of his chest where it spiraled outward until it formed little rings of hair around his nipples. His chest and abdominal areas were only covered with a slight dusting of body hair compared to his legs. The stubble on his face grew until a thick, connected beard replaced the short goatee Geo once sported. 

His armpits were hit the hardest by the transformation. His pit hair grew and grew until it curled from its long length, leaving Geo with obscenely hairy underarms. Combined with the heavy sweat of an intense workout, Geo’s hairy pit smell began to fill the room. Evan recoiled from how unexpectedly strong Geo’s musky body odor had become, though he couldn’t resist helping himself to a couple of sniffs after he got a whiff of his powerful musk. 

The MM gene had thoroughly scrambled Geo’s DNA sequences, leaving him as a completely unrecognizable, alternate version of himself! 

“WHEW!! God I feel sooo much better now… Hey what’s wrong, babe? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“G… Geo? Is that you?” Evan stood in shock from disbelief. If he hadn’t witnessed it for himself, Evan would’ve never believed that the hairy, smelly jock lying in front of him, staring at him with a lustful smirk, was the same man he had just invited over for dinner. 

“Of course it is, mi hermosito, who else would I be?” Geo winked as he threw his arms up, leaving his hairy underarms exposed. “By the way, I saw you sniffing the air earlier… How about you come and have a whiff right from the source?” 

Evan chuckled nervously, but Geo wasn’t joking. His laughter died down as he realized just how dead-serious Geo was.

“No… You’re not seriously—” 

“Oh but I am,” Geo interrupted. “Just a little taste won’t hurt anyone. Call it a preview for what’s to come later tonight.”

“But right here? In the public bathrooms?”

“Why not? It’s not like anyone else is around right now. We’ll just have to keep our voices down if someone comes in. So, what do you say? I know you want to…”

Geo got up from the ground and approached Evan. He stood close enough that his scent naturally filled Evan’s nose without him needing to sniff. Evan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as his friend’s intoxicating musk left him in a state of deep arousal. Of course, Evan had some reservations about hooking up with Geo after he had just randomly transformed right in front of him, but between how close Geo’s pits already were to his face and the fact that it still seemed to be the same man he had come to know and love on the inside, Evan couldn’t bring himself to reject the offer. Before he could think about it properly, he was already leaning in without even realizing it. 

Once Evan started, he couldn’t stop. He buried his face deep into Geo’s sweaty, rank underarms. Geo’s coarse black hair tickled Evan’s nostrils as he nuzzled against the crevices of his pits. Muffled groans filled with pleasure escaped Evan’s mouth as he indulged in the manly, sweaty scent, each sniff leaving him more satisfied than the last. Soon enough, both Geo and Evan grew rock hard from all the sensual physical touch. The tents in their gym shorts poked and rubbed against each other as they continued pressing their bodies together. For Geo, the thought of getting worshiped in a public place like a gym bathroom was the hottest thing ever while Evan was just happy he got to service a hairy, sweaty gym rat.��

Evan briefly lifted his head out of Geo’s armpit for air. At that moment, Geo held his face and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Their tongues wrestled inside of Evan’s mouth as they locked lips. Once they had their fill of making out after a while, Geo began pushing Evan down onto his knees, to which Evan happily obliged. Geo’s cock stood at full mast, nearly poking one of Evan’s eyes out as he got into position. Evan was in awe as he held the heavy piece of uncut brown meat in his hands. He was drooling just from the sight of it! Not able to restrain himself anymore, Evan dove right in and guided the leaking tip into his mouth.

Arghh… Mmmmm…

Geo let out guttural moans as his friend went down on him. The sound of a man’s deep moans encouraged Evan to service him as best as he physically could. It was almost like he forgot he needed to breathe as he slurped Geo’s entire length up and down with his tongue until it hit the back of his throat. Geo squirmed and grunted obscenely loud as Evan wrapped his cock with his warm, moist mouth. He only lasted a few minutes until he couldn’t hold in his load anymore. Geo held Evan’s head down, his nose pressing against his unruly bush, and let out a loud groan from deep within his lungs as his load came rushing out. Evan whimpered with pleasure as he swallowed Geo’s heavy load, the salty taste of cum filling up his mouth. Once it was done, they both pulled away with a satisfied ahhh!

“Alright, get up. Your turn.”

Geo helped Evan up to his feet, then got down on his knees himself. Evan didn’t deny Geo’s advances, but he also didn’t help him get into position either. He had a blank expression as Geo proceeded to go down on him. Even as he swirled and sucked on his sensitive head, Evan didn’t react or say anything aside from an occasional soft moan. All he could focus on was a prominent cut on the inside of his cheek that he could feel with his tongue. Was that always there? Evan wasn’t sure, but regardless, it was already too late. The damage was done. He had contracted the MM gene from Geo. 

Evan winced as he began to notice a pain growing in the pit of his stomach. It started as a slight ache, but it quickly became unbearable. Evan hunched over, letting a low groan as he held his hands against his side where it hurt the most. It felt like he was being stabbed from the inside out! The next thing he knew, his muscles rapidly stretched and constricted as the gene started rearranging his DNA. 

Because Evan was a non-carrier and his immune system was not already accustomed to suppressing the malignant virus, the MM gene was able to activate without delay and transformed him much faster than Geo. He threw his head back and quietly moaned as the transformation happened. Geo was too busy giving him head to even notice. He just thought he was doing a good job. 

The MM gene was hard at work bringing out Evan’s hidden genetic traits. Although he was only 12.5% Black from his mother’s side, that was more than enough for the virus to play around with. Various points around his skinny body began to inflate with muscle mass. His thin frame and scrawny chicken legs filled in with much-needed mass, giving him sturdy legs with sharp ab lines and impressive cannons for arms. His biceps swelled to the size of melons as his body flexed under the tension of rapid transformation. Evan himself was surprised with how heavy his new body was becoming.

His facial structure shifted and morphed. His nose widened while his jawline became stronger and sharper. A bushy goatee beard grew in where he once could only grow peach fuzz. The once wholly flat-chested Evan Washington now sported two massive slabs of meat resting on his torso. His pecs were firm, strong, and hung low from their own weight. Coupled with bright pink nips, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he now possessed a perfect chest. Although his pale skin tone stayed the same, the MM gene brought his Black features out to the forefront, giving the once undeniably White young man a more visibly biracial appearance by the end of his transformation.

While Evan underwent a total identity change, Geo kept blowing him all the while. Although he did notice a sudden change in Evan’s girth and overall size, the taste of a nice, sweaty cock kept him focused on the task at hand. Geo simply took a breath through his nose and opened his mouth up even wider to keep deepthroating him. Evan’s body was still sensitive from having undergone rapid growth, which only made the pleasure of having his dick sucked sloppily increase tenfold. The veins in his thighs and cock twitched and throbbed as he climaxed and pumped out his thick load straight down Geo’s throat. Geo swallowed, sighed with deep satisfaction, and got up from the ground. 

“Mmm! You know, yours tastes kinda tangy!” Geo gathered and licked up the few stray drops dripping from Evan’s tip. 

Meanwhile, Evan was trembling, struggling to breathe after all the physical stimulation. Only after Geo finished cleaning up the spunky mess did he realize that the Evan standing before him no longer looked like the Evan he once knew.  

“What the— Who are you!! Where’d Evan go?” Geo yelled. Evan turned to look at him, and Geo saw his pupils dilating unnaturally rapidly. “Dude, what’s wrong with your eyes!?”

Evan said nothing in response. The MM gene fried his mind with a heavy concentration of hormones, leaving him in a state of severe brain fog. Evan stumbled forward to the nearby mirror. His cock was still semi-erect. The sight of his own dick was enough to make Evan drool as he admired and flexed his arm muscles. Geo tried calling his attention but to no avail. Evan was unresponsive to his shouts. He had one thing and one thing only on his horny mind. 

“More…” Evan muttered.

“More what?” Geo replied. Evan snapped his line of sight back at Geo. His dazed eyes wandered to Geo’s exposed junk, then narrowed as they met his eyes. He let out a low growl as his eyes suddenly had an intense look that caused Geo to take a few steps back. It was the same look a hungry lion gave a gazelle out in the wild. Geo swallowed his breath. He became acutely aware of the situation he was in.

“Dick! I want more dick!!”

Evan puckered his lips and lunged towards Geo, though Geo managed to sidestep him in time.

“Get away from me! Look man, you might be hot as hell but I’m not interested! I’m a taken man!!” 

Geo quickly gathered his discarded clothes and hightailed it out of the bathroom. Naturally, being in the hyper state that he was, Evan wasn’t going to give up until he got what he craved. He stumbled out of the bathroom stall ass naked, where he was about to run into the perfect target.  

“Man! Today is just not my day,” a bodybuilder mumbled as he walked into the locker room. Dylan was a muscle gay, and he came to the gym solely to go cruising that day. 

However, despite his efforts, he struck out. He was getting sexually frustrated, which made him incredibly willing to hook up with some random stranger in the bathroom. 

Dylan was as equally surprised as he was impressed when Evan stepped out of the stall with his cock out. The smell of sweat and cum hit his nose, arousing him. Dylan loved what he saw and decided to make his move on the muscle-bound hunk.

“Hey there, stud! Need a hand there?” Dylan whistled at Evan, catching his attention.

Evan turned to him. He was still visibly sweaty and was breathing heavily. Dylan wasn’t sure what to make of him, but Evan didn’t give him a chance to reconsider. 

Evan charged at him, planting his lips against his upon impact. Dylan was caught off guard but had no problem matching Evan’s energy. He kissed him back as their frisky hands began feeling up each other’s bodies. Although Dylan loved making out, Evan’s kissing style was quickly turning out to be way too rough for his tastes. Evan forced his tongue in, had an obscene amount of saliva, and even bit down on his bottom lip with enough force to draw blood.

“OWW! What the fuck man!?”

Dylan pushed Evan away and held his bleeding lip. He was glad that there wasn't a lot of blood, but was still rightfully pissed off. As ravenous as he was due to the MM gene, Evan was oblivious to what he had done. Instead, his attention shifted to another guy wearing only a towel near the showers. He ran off in that direction and left Dylan in the dust. 

“Prick…” 

With that, Dylan decided to just give up and get a quick workout in. He took out a rice bar and ate it as he returned to the main area. He did his stretches, picked up a couple of barbells, and claimed an open bench. But just as he was about to start his first set, a powerful hunger overcame him. He grabbed at his stomach and kneeled over in pain as the MM gene took effect.

All of Dylan’s hard-earned muscles melted away within a matter of minutes. He rapidly gained pounds upon pounds of body fat. What were once washboard abs complimented by chiseled biceps were replaced by flabby arms and a protruding, hairy gut. His pecs lost their firmness and began to sag as they became nothing but a pair of man boobs. All the while, the same overwhelming lust Evan had began growing within Dylan too.

A handful of nearby good samaritans came to Dylan’s aid after he collapsed. While they all tried to help Dylan, most stayed back after witnessing his sudden transformation firsthand. Nobody knew what was happening behind the scenes, leading to anxious rumors and worried whispers floating around the gym. While most people were too cautious to get near Dylan, one brave man decided to step forward and help Dylan. Unfortunately, as he tried to help Dylan get up to his feet, Dylan accidentally scratched him on the back. The young man recoiled and dropped Dylan to the ground as a result.

As other people began to help Dylan, the injured man stepped off to the side to tend to his wound. He felt unusually warm as he finished putting on a bandage. He didn’t think much of it and ignored it but soon found himself sweating bullets as he rejoined the group. It got to the point that he needed to take a seat to try to cool off, but it was no use. He soon joined Dylan on the floor, writhing in pain due to contracting the MM gene.

At this point, everyone in the gym had gathered around the two men. The crowd stood back as they bore witness to yet another transformation. They watched in bewilderment as the short man rapidly grew in height. He groaned and gasped in anguish as his limbs stretched out. His torso grew and widened until he had the body of a tall bear. He pawed at the growing tent in his sweats as he thrashed around the floor, massaging his manhood as hormones continued pumping throughout his body. Within minutes, the infected man had gone from a stout 5’4 to a big, burly 6’4.

Although the afflicted man already had a healthy spattering of trimmed body hair, the MM gene forced his hair to grow to what was genetically possible. His body hair grew out beyond what Geo experienced. From his chest and belly to his legs and arms, every hair follicle grew longer and thicker, leaving him a pelt of curly body hair. His facial hair, in particular, grew out the most. His mustache grew longer and longer until it practically covered his mouth! His beard became bushy and unruly with coarse black hair as it reached his chest. All the while, the hair on the top of his head fell out one by one until he had a shiny bald head. He became an unrecognizable version of himself thanks to the MM gene. Once his transformation was over, he sat up and let out a bellowing belch that echoed throughout the gym. 

“Mrmph… Feels sooooo good…”

The crowd of witnesses backed away from the two transformed men. The two men turned to the crowd and smiled. A cold, ominous air filled the atmosphere. A few intuitive individuals saw the writing on the wall and left before shit hit the fan while the majority stayed behind, anxious and confused at what was going on. A few moments filled with tense silence passed, only for it to be broken when Evan came charging in from the men’s locker room and locked lips with the closest man. Almost as if on signal, Dylan and the burly bear joined Evan’s rampage and lashed out, too.

Pandemonium broke out as everyone made a mad dash for the exit. It was like a zombie attack as Evan and the other transformed men attacked every healthy man they could get their hands on. The unfortunate victims contracted the MM gene. Once infected, they, too, succumbed to genetic rearrangements. Some grew insanely muscular, and others became incredibly overweight. Hair was grown and lost; skin colors changed, and every physical feature rearranged until they were completely unrecognizable. All those transformed men wanted nothing more than to kiss, fuck, and spread their seed to as many people as possible until their hyped-up urges were satiated. 

“Shit’s getting crazy out here…” Geo whispered to himself. He poked his head out of the locker room and saw the chaos he unwittingly caused. He wanted nothing to do with the madness and ran out of the gym as fast as he could, though the infected men paid him no attention as he was already one of them. Police were beginning to arrive on the scene as Geo drove away with only one thought: his dinner date with his best friend and crush, Evan. 

Though unfortunately for him, the Evan he knew and loved was long gone. It would only be a matter of time before Geo forgot all about Evan, and his body gradually returned to its original state after the MM gene returned to a state of dormacy.

At least, until the next time Geo or some other carrier falls in love.

***

PUBLIC STATEMENT ISSUED BY THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE

Good evening.

As you may have already heard, a horrific incident has occurred at one of our local gyms. Dozens of men went on a rampage. It took several hours and almost all of our manpower, but our police department has successfully arrested all of the sexually rabid men and have placed them in custody. 

Security camera footage shows that all of these men were physically transformed before attacking. After an initial investigation, medical experts suspect that a rare genetic disorder called the Metamorphosis gene is responsible. Unfortunately, while there were no casualties, some of our own brave policemen were affected by the viral outbreak and were transformed themselves.

Two big questions remain tonight: how did a genetic disorder manage to spread like a virus, and how did these men contract this previously unheard of disorder? The arrested men were questioned about the events that led to this mass riot. None have been able to provide any concrete information. None of them seem to recognize their former identities, citing amnesia and severe migraines as the cause. 

Patient 0 has yet to be found. An active investigation continues as research efforts for a potential cure to the Metamorphosis gene’s effects continue. 

END OF STATEMENT

[jk97]

Unprofessional Attraction | TWO

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 18.2K ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, halloween, drinking alcohol, perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, pet names (angel, pretty, smart girl, etc), pinch of sexting and unintentional phone sex, office head (giving and receiving), fingering, praise, unprotected sex, riding, jealousy, blackmail, good ol' porn with plot ♡ A/N - my goodness thank you for 1000+ notes ♡ sorry it's so long but I appreciate the patience!! the school semester timeline in this is kinda unrealistic but ignore that, fictional romance has no bounds LOL. This might end up 4 parts instead of 3, we'll see what my brain figures out.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“I’m starting to think you’re kidnapping me.”

For the past 30 minutes into this drive, something Yunho had initially assured you wouldn’t take long, you’ve been alternating between staring out of the window at your surroundings slowly becoming unfamiliar and the small bouquet of flowers sitting in your lap. Even as you gaze at him inquisitively, he doesn’t move his attention away from the road. When he doesn't answer for longer than what you deem appropriate, your brows flicker up in amusement. That gets his attention.

“Oh, right, that’s a bad thing,” he clears his throat dramatically, though you know he’s just poking fun at your impatience, “I suppose I could ruin the surprise if you’re getting restless.”

“No, I’m not! I’m just very curious why it’s so far away,” you stop him quickly. That’s absolutely a reasonable question and Yunho decides to give you the answer.

“I know I said I wanted to be discreet but…” he pauses and sighs, shaking his head, “I just can’t. Figured the next best thing would be to just leave our area for the day and do something fun around strangers instead. I just want us to be comfortable, I guess.”

“You really weren’t kidding about being thoughtful, huh?” You hum softly, hand finding his own sitting on the gear shift. He allows you to thread his fingers between yours without hesitation.

“I meant everything I said, yes.”

“I guess I can be patient then,” you feign annoyance, rolling your eyes. 

The earnest laugh that your silliness evokes from him fills the car and makes the atmosphere even warmer than before. The gift of flowers had already charmed you upon getting into his car, so you can’t imagine that there’s something even better waiting for you at the end of the drive. As much as you’d love to know what this man had settled on within the last few days, you allow yourself to indulge in the feeling of being whisked away and surprised instead. In the meantime, you busy yourself again by humming to his radio and continuing to survey your surroundings passing by quickly the further you drive.

There are many things Yunho is good at and he’s a very intelligent man, but cooking is just not one of those things. Because of this, he generally eats out instead of bothering with making food. This is particularly one of the reasons why he never had an issue when it came to eating dinner with you outside of his home. He supposes if he wants to be a proper and worthy bachelor, he should learn one of these days not to add too much salt to soup, or how to properly fry an egg without burning it to a crisp. Today’s decision to take you both to a cooking class is motivated by those circumstances. Sushi shouldn’t be that hard to master, right?

It begins easily enough. 

Each group has an individual station, and the class starts with a simple seaweed salad as an appetizer. He makes sure to follow all the instructions to a T, his only deviation being adding a dash of red pepper flakes because he likes spice. Yunho’s already so used to you asking for a taste of his food that he immediately goes to share his final product without you even asking.

While you’re still mixing your own he beckons for your attention, holding out a bite with his chopsticks, “Open.”

This is something you’ve done before, yes, but only a few times. It’s a bit more embarrassing though while doing such a thing in front of other people, and he can’t help but notice how you can’t look him directly in the eyes while obliging him. You’re so cute when you’re shy.

“How does it taste?” He asks before you can even get to chewing, but he’s a bit nervous that you might spit it out before he does.

When you do get to chew and swallow, he’s surprised to see your eyes light up, “Wow that’s delicious, Yu!” 

Asking him for another bite inflates his ego just a pinch too much, but he can’t help it when you’re praising him for his work. Maybe to hide his inability to cook anything else he’d simply make you seaweed salad for the rest of your life. Yeah, that sounds nice… He tries to suppress the confident smirk tugging at his lips and hypes himself up for the rest of the lesson. After everyone in the room has wrapped up that portion of the lesson, the instructor moves forward with beginning the sushi crafting.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you meet your friends?” You inquire in a low voice while the instructor carries on about how much rice is an appropriate amount, clarifying, “Mr. Park and Mr. Choi.”

“I met both in college, but I met Seonghwa first,” he muses, “I was a sophomore and he was a junior, and we both happened to choose the same music elective that year.”

“What the hell is a linguist doing in a music class? Felt adventurous that year?”

“I’m quite the singer actually,” Yunho reveals with a confident smile, but his arms cease their rice flattening when he hears you try to stifle laughter. His brows crinkle as he peers over at you with a prominent pout tugging at his lips, “What, you don’t believe me?”

“No, I do, it’s just–” You give him a once over. “I’m imagining this angelic voice coming out of you and it’s really cute.”

“Angelic…” he muses, then turns back to flattening his rice and smiles to himself, “I guess I’ll have to show you one day and you can determine that for yourself.”

“I’d love that, actually.”

The instructor announces that next you’ll be slicing up salmon and avocado to put inside your rolls. You and Yunho work diligently on splitting the filet of salmon provided between each other to see who can do it best and follow her lead once more. 

“Continue the story,” you whisper to him once the instructor gives the last of her enthusiastic pitches on how to glide the knife through in one stroke for each piece, “What happened after music class?”

“Well, we became friends after pairing up for a duet project… and then we met San the following year after he hired Seonghwa for tutoring in history.” Yunho pauses for a moment to put an immense amount of concentration into his first slice, which still definitely ends up way too thick. “He did things like that on the side for money sometimes. Put up posters in the cafes and everything.”

Even though you’re also concentrating, you nod so he knows you’re paying attention. Unlike Yunho, you seem to have picked up on the cutting technique pretty quickly. His eyes keep flickering back and forth between your work and his, and he huffs in dissatisfaction.

“Sheesh, that was quite some time ago,” you state absentmindedly.

“Excuse me, are you calling me old?”

“Possibly.”

For the nonchalant jab at his confidence, Yunho nudges your cutting arm mid-slice and causes you to abruptly cut the current piece in half. The flabbergasted look on your face and the way your mouth drops open at a loss for words makes him giggle.

“I’m so sorry beautiful, it’s these old brittle bones,” he feigns remorse, lips pulling into a dishonest pout when you glare at him, “Can never keep my balance these days with them, you know?”

“Maybe they’re also the reason your slices look as big as filets,” you quip back, “Might as well throw those on the grill, right?”

Yunho’s pout turns genuine. You only apologize because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you both agree to let you cut the salmon while he works on the avocados instead. It doesn’t take long before you’re finished placing the necessary ingredients onto your rice and following the instructor's words on how to successfully roll it all together. This is something that Yunho is actually able to do decently, and he marvels at the way he’s got a genuine sushi roll in front of his eyes made from his own hands. Moving forward, his mind is consumed with cutting it into perfect bite-sized pieces when you tap his shoulder.

“Hey, do you like soy sauce on your sushi?”

“Sometimes, why?” He replies, and when he turns around to peer down at you he’s met with a pair of chopsticks holding up something for him to try. 

You smile in place of instruction, but he opens his mouth without even having to be told to do so. Unlike you, he doesn’t mind holding eye contact while you feed him. It feels intimate even with strangers around you. Dozens of butterflies manifest in your stomach and go into even more of a frenzy when he sighs in contentment. He’ll be nice and pretend he didn’t see the way you swallow the lump in your throat. 

That’s when you notice you put just a little too much soy sauce on his piece, and your thumb casually swipes the excess from the corner of his mouth. It’s an action that should be helpful and innocent, but you put your thumb in your mouth to lick it clean without even thinking. He absolutely takes notice. Every time Yunho thinks he’s got the upper hand in wooing you, you make him lose his cool so easily.

“Your face is red. Was it too salty?”

Yunho clears his throat and shakes his head hastily when he sees you’re genuinely concerned. He really wants nothing more than to kiss you at this moment, but that would have to wait until you both are alone. The rest of the class goes by quickly when tasked with making a different sushi roll and some strawberry-matcha ice cream for dessert. Yunho thinks he might see a hint of disappointment on your face when things come to an end and you have to take off your aprons. 

“There’s a park not too far away from here if you’re okay with walking for a bit. Burn off some calories?” Yunho proposes when you both finally leave the building, and you nod eagerly. For the second time today, you link fingers and begin your venture.

The walk ends up being a bit longer than you both expect, but it doesn’t take much time to find a secluded spot where you could have some privacy when there. It’s fairly brisk today, so when Yunho removes his jacket to grant you a clean place to sit on the grass, you immediately tell him you don’t mind sitting on the ground at all, that you’d rather him be warm. He assures you that he’s not cold at all (a big fat lie) and doesn’t mind getting a little dirt on his pants, so you give in and situate yourself on his jacket. The silence between you both is comfortable, filled with the sounds of people playing somewhere nearby and birds occupying trees in the branches lingering over you. You debate about striking up more conversation about his past, but he beats you to the punch on speaking.

“I haven’t done this in a while you know,” Yunho suddenly divulges, “Have you?”

“Gone on a date?” When he nods you shake your head, “No, actually. Haven’t met anyone worth going past the texting phase, to be honest... Well, besides that one day.”

You feel a bit guilty when still having to lie about that phony date that led to your first dinner together, but it’s not like it’s something you can change now. 

“As bad as it sounds… I’m glad you got stood up that day,” his eyes fall to his lap when he mumbles this. He hopes that doesn’t come across negatively.

The corners of your mouth tug into a smile at his honesty. Maybe one day in the future you’d gain enough courage to tell him it was a lie. You wonder if he would genuinely be upset… Though, you suppose you’re thinking way too far ahead into the future for those kinds of worries. 

Instead of dwelling on it, you simply say, “I am too, Yu.”

“You’ve been using that nickname more often,” he points out after a moment of thought, “Any particular reason?”

“It’s just a habit when we get alone… helps me separate you from how I know you on campus,” you reply and glance over at him apprehensively, “I’m sorry, it probably sounds too childish, right? I can stop.”

“No no, I prefer when you call me Yu,” he admits, palm digging into the grass as he leans back on his arm with a sigh, “Everybody else calls me Yunho, Mr. Jeong, whatever.”

“Am I not in the same category as everybody else?”

“Not at all,” he professes without any hesitation, lolling his head to the side to finally peer back at you. The soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth makes your heart stutter. 

“Duly noted,” is all you’re able to mumble back. When his eyes go from surveying your face for any unease at his bluntness to zeroing in on your lips, you can’t help the heat manifesting in your cheeks.

“Are you comfortable if I kiss you?”

“I feel like we’re way past that step, no?” You quirk a brow.

“Was more so asking since we’re technically in public, but I suppose that’s also true,” he laughs softly, leaning over and pressing his lips to yours before you can reply to him with any nonsense.

His lips are always so soft and plush, and it’s so juxtaposed with the way he kisses you with intensity and clear intent. He’s never really hesitant of himself when you both kiss, never thinking twice about selfishly stealing your air, despite any anxiety he may have about your situation inside of himself. He’s a bit too enamored with the way your tongue still tastes like strawberry matcha to realize that his free hand has dipped under the hem of your dress, fingertips creeping and leaving a trail of heat as they inch further and further up your thigh. As much as you’d love to indulge him, your nerves won’t let you, no matter how secluded your spot might be.

Your hand wraps around his wrist gently, giggling onto his lips as you warn him, “Don’t get any funny ideas. Like you said, we’re in public.”

“You’re absolutely right,” he sighs reluctantly. He can’t deny that he’s slightly embarrassed for even letting his hands move with a mind of their own. There’s just something about you that makes him feel like he doesn’t have to think so hard when you’re around, and it makes him lose his senses in the process. Everything just feels natural. An affectionate smile plays at his lips while he rubs the material of your dress between his fingers, “It’s getting pretty late, the sun is setting.”

“Let’s head back before the traffic gets too crazy then, yeah?” You propose and he nods silently before pushing one last peck to your lips.

The drive back to your apartment feels much quicker than it did leaving, and this stirs up a hint of despondency in your stomach. It feels like your time with him has ended just as soon as it started, but you suppose you should appreciate the full day you did get to spend with him. Still, you know something like today won’t happen that often, and it makes you a bit sad the closer you get to your building. 

Like the gentlemen he is, Yunho walks with you up to the second floor and to your door, hands shoved deep in his pockets while he debates on how to say bye. He doesn’t know if he should kiss you goodbye when anybody could be watching now that you’re back in the area. Then again, he supposes even walking you up to your place was risky to begin with. While he’s debating over these things in his mind, you’ve already opened your front door. He doesn’t even realize you’re staring at him until you call his name, to which he’s subsequently sputtering a bunch of apologies after being caught overthinking. 

“Why don’t you come inside for a little bit,” you hum, more as an instruction than a request. 

Yunho’s tongue prods at the inside of his cheek in rumination over the various prospects of what exactly coming inside could entail, but the way you’re gazing at him with those beguiling eyes is already luring him in before his thoughts can get the best of him. His feet move on their own, taking tentative steps into your abode with an overwhelming feeling of excitement pooling in his chest. The sound of the front door being locked is followed by you coming up behind him and wrapping your hands around his torso. It’s very sweet, the way you bury your head in his back and squeeze him in an endearing hug.

“I really enjoyed today,” you tell him as best you can with your cheek still squished against his back. You feel the warm chuckle he lets out reverberating through his back. He wishes he could reciprocate your hug, but it seems you’re intent on staying behind him.

He settles for saying, “Thank you for giving me the chance to fix things, ____. I just wanted to show you that you mean a lot to me.”

Then, there’s a beat of silence, and he wonders if everything is okay. Maybe that was too much…

“What’s your day look like tomorrow?” you suddenly ask softly, and Yunho's eyes fall to watch as your hands drop and ghost around his belt. 

His Adam's Apple bobs anxiously before he answers in an equally soft voice, “Sundays I… I usually prepare my slides and lesson plans for the week. Meet with the boys in the evening after I’m done for some drinks…”

Your hands gently undo his belt as he’s talking, humming “ mhm ” every few words to let him know you’re indeed listening. 

“Maybe you should leave in the morning then,” you propose, fingers gently popping open the button of his pants. You can feel him take a deep inhale the moment you finally gently tug at his zipper.

“Yeah, maybe I should.”

That night, Yunho learns several things about you.

He gets to learn the ins and outs of your gag reflex. You have a slight affinity with deep-throating your partners, and he falls in love with the view of you even trying to with tears in the corners of your eyes. The way your lips stretch around his thick cock… It’s an image he stores in his mental album of you for later use.

He gets to learn about the tattoo you have hidden on your back as he’s fervently driving that same thick cock of his into you from behind. He traces it delicately with his fingers before reaching forward to grab at your hair, pulling it back for some well-needed leverage while his sweaty thighs smack against yours over and over.

He especially loves learning that you like being talked through things, and he’s already made you cum twice by utilizing his voice. Rinse and repeat, the way your greedy cunt squeezes and milks him for all he’s worth when says, “Remind me, what’s my name?” And when you moan out that nickname that he likes so much, he replies with, “That’s my smart girl. Looking so pretty, you feel so fucking good around me. You gonna cum for me again, pretty? I can feel you squeezing, go ahead and give it to me.”

Needless to say, it was a very long and educational night. 

In the morning, Yunho’s desires get the best of him, and he manages to inconspicuously steal a pair of panties from the laundry pile in your room, shoving them into his pants pocket while you’re in the bathroom. He makes sure to take a plain-looking pair, something he’s sure you won’t notice is missing. There’s a slight feeling of guilt once he’s nearly home, though. 

It’s okay, it’s just a one-time thing, he tells himself over and over, I’ll return them the next time I’m over.

—

“YOU WHAT?”

Yeosang slaps his hand over his mouth but, to be fair, his reaction is entirely involuntary. He had promised you he would remain calm, but how could he with this kind of information? You repeatedly sputter that, while you may be in the back of the library, he is very much going to cause a disturbance if he doesn’t shut his fucking mouth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he exhales, leaning in with eyes as big as saucers, “You came in too hot, I need the foreplay first.”

“Don’t phrase it like that, good Lord,” you groan.

“What else am I supposed to say when you tell me you’ve fucked him and none of the lead-up? Fuck, did he even take you out to dinner first?”

“Of course he did,” you defend him quickly, “We’ve spent a lot of time together actually. Mostly dinners and things of that nature.”

“I’m mostly shocked that it took you this long to fuck him. Seems like you hooked him fairly easily.”

“Well…” you cover your face just enough to where an eye can peep out between your fingers, and Yeosang eyes you curiously, “No, that wasn’t the first time…”

“Obviously you hate me, ____,” your best friend immediately states, clasping his hands together, “This is the only suitable explanation of why you wouldn’t tell me this until now. I literally begged you for info like an idiot weeks ago!”

“I’m sorry! It was just—”

“Nah, denied,” he holds a hand up to shush you, “Worst best friend ever.”

“Yeo, I explicitly told you progress was being made. Did I not?”

“You failed to tell me that it was being made between your legs,” he snaps in a whisper-yell. “How many times?”

“Only twice, okay? You haven’t missed much, I promise.”

Yeosang sits in silence with his head perched on his palm, seemingly marinating in all of the information he’s been slammed within the last 10 minutes. There are very few times you’ve seen him at a loss for words, but this moment surely makes the list. 

“I didn’t think he would cave that easily, honestly.” He finally speaks. You release all the pent-up air in your chest that you hadn’t realized you were holding in waiting for his words. “What did you do to him ____?”

He pleads for the final time for you to start from the beginning and explain, and you finally grant that to him without getting too into the nitty gritty. You’re a bit bashful recounting some of the lengths you took in setting this all up, but Yeosang simply nods in understanding at each one. If anyone was going to be supportive, it was always going to be your frontline cheerleader. 

After taking in the full story, he thinks it’s only proper to ask, “What’s your plan beyond this point?”

“Well, exactly what I said to you a long time ago,” you tell him frankly, “If all goes well, I want to be in a relationship with him after I graduate. I don’t see him saying no to that with the way he’s already treating me...”

Yeosang notices the way your demeanor has changed with this answer. Previously, the humorous lilt in your voice was much more prominent. Those same sentiments and that joking attitude seems to be long gone. He can see it in your eyes, the way you’re taking this more seriously. He wonders what Yunho could’ve possibly done to turn you into such a romantic over him. The answer to that would simply be: everything. 

“You know, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure if you were telling the truth about wanting things beyond sex at first,” Yeosang tells you honestly. He may be a goofball, but he’s able to be serious when needed. And despite the foolishness leading up to this statement, his voice is earnest when he says, “I can see this working out for you as long as you’re careful.”

“I hope so, Yeo. I really do.”

—

On the following Wednesday, you and Yeosang are both seated in Yunho’s class wasting time on your phones as class is set to start. Usually, Yunho is very punctual with starting because his lectures are so long, so you’re curious as to what the hold-up is today. You peek over your laptop and spot him talking to a guy you’ve never seen before and, as far as you know, you’ve never recognized him in this class. They nod at each other before you see Yunho clear his throat.

“Everyone, I want to take a few minutes at the top of the hour to introduce someone important,” Yunho begins, loud enough that everyone can hear and cease chatter. “I’m sure some of you recognize him from other classes. For those who don't, however, this is Wooyoung Jung. He’ll be serving as my teacher’s assistant for the remainder of the semester.”

“I’m happy to be able to help any way I can,” Wooyoung proclaims to everyone with a sweet smile before turning back towards Yunho, “And thank you Mr. Jeong for allowing me the opportunity.”

You wonder if this is something Yunho truly chose or whether it was sprung upon him; it’s fairly late into the semester for something like this to be introduced. He does have quite the workload though, you muse. Surely with new hands to help, he’ll manage his time a bit better. You wonder if that’ll mean you get to spend more time with him while Wooyoung is taking care of things that would usually dig into his free time. As if Yunho knows you’re thinking about him, his eyes find yours while Wooyoung is taking his seat at the front of the class. Something about the ambiguous gaze he gives you when others are around makes you itch for his attention even more than normal. He doesn’t ever fail at making it look natural, like he could be looking at anyone for nothing in particular. Those little moments keep things fun.

The answer to your previous queries would end up being that, yes, this was something Yunho chose himself. When presented with an opportunity for a student specializing in his major to offer assistance after being accepted into the Work-Study program later than most, of course he said yes. San had been telling him since he began working at the university last semester that he should take on a TA while he got acclimated to teaching, but Yunho had convinced himself that he could do it all on his own. While Yunho had been pretty open about how terrible his workload was, considering he has 3 class sections, he was never completely honest with you about how much stress this caused him on a day-to-day basis. 

He was excited that this would free up some of his previously stolen time and take some pressure off of his shoulders. He was also looking forward to being able to spend some of that newly open time with you, especially. That’s why when you unknowingly throw a wrench into those intentions before leaving his class Friday, he has a hard time keeping the dejection he feels from showing on his face. 

“It might be a while before we’re able to hang out again,” you sigh, “Midterms are stressing me out but I don’t want to psych myself out right before I graduate—”

“____,” Yunho places his hand on your head tenderly, silencing your rambling in the kindest way he can. He doesn’t like seeing you so stressed out. “Focus on yourself and do your best, okay? Don’t lose sight of the finish line. Being prepared and passing is much more important than us seeing each other.”

You gaze up at him with some of the prettiest dispirited eyes he’s ever seen. How is he supposed to remain selfless when you look like this? Of course, he’d love to be selfish and fill your time; he knows you’re a smart girl so you’d have nothing to worry about for his midterm at least. He’d take care of it. Nevertheless, you’re still a student of others as well, and he has to extinguish that greed as fast as it ignites.

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course, pretty. You know where to find me whenever you’re ready,” he smiles and gives your cheek a teasing pinch before opening the lecture hall’s door, “See you next Wednesday.”

As expected, two weeks of studying and taking tests consume your entire schedule. Yunho is not much better, and he’s consistently cursing at himself for making the test he gave out to all of his sections so long. Even though he wants to truly know if his students understand all the material thus far, he forgets how time-consuming making the test so extensive can be for him as well. Having Wooyoung around helps quite a bit, even though he feels slightly guilty for putting such a large amount on him when he becomes overwhelmed. Wooyoung never complains though, so Yunho is grateful to have gotten a TA who actually does the work and does it well. During this time, you both try to keep regular contact, offering words of encouragement to each other and discussing what you should do to celebrate when you get your passing grades back. 

Directly following the end of midterms week is the weekend before Halloween. Jongho had sent out a text the week prior that he was holding a party at his parent’s rental house, which is currently unoccupied for the season. The man had friends from several different circles because he was involved in many different extracurriculars outside of his studies, so you were certain this party was going to be fairly large.

Naturally, as best friends do, you and Yeosang decide to wear matching costumes for his party. Procrastination had gotten the best of you both with midterms added into the mix, however, and the best thing the two of you were able to come up with before the weekend was a sexy nurse and doctor duo. Simple, but effective.

You both rode along with Hongjoong, who had chosen to be the designated driver for the evening. It’s uncomfortably brisk outside, too brisk to be dressed like you are; however, upon opening the door, you can barely get two steps into the property before Jongho stops everyone in their tracks. His hands hold out exactly what you knew would be coming before even arriving at the house. It’s Jongho’s signature thing.

“You know the rules,” he says with that mischievous smile of his you know too well. 

You must take one tequila shot to be admitted past the door.

All three of you quickly take the shot glasses from your host and toss them back without even giving cheers. The burn of alcohol and the robust taste of bitter poison stains your tongue. It hurts a little on the throat on the way down and you salivate to adjust to the pain, immediately making a face of disgust. 

“God, it never gets easier,” you cough.

“I’ll grab you something easier,” he laughs while rubbing your back, “Same flavor as usual?”

“Please and thank you.”

As promised, he comes back with two bottles of honeydew melon soju in tow and some fresh shot glasses. It doesn’t take too many heavy-handed shots before laughs and giggles begin to bubble up in your throat for no real reason. You forgot that you didn’t put anything on your stomach before leaving the house, and it’s becoming very apparent every time you feel your head shoot up to outer space and come back down just as quickly. That’s a non-issue though because Jongho’s catered this party with enough food to feed a small village. Anyone watching you stuffing your face with Halloween-themed carbs and sweets is the last thing on your mind. Round two of shots is followed by the intense feeling of needing to dance. Even while intoxicated, you’re perceptive enough to notice various sets of eyes on you whilst dancing with your friends. Every so often, an owner of a set will make his way over and try to chat you up. Like clockwork, you say the same thing to every new person:

Sorry, I’m not single.

You say this sentence so many times in the span of an hour that it begins to feel real. Then again, isn’t it already? As far as you’re concerned, you were spoken for until Yunho said otherwise. You wonder if he feels the same about himself... When you start having a small internal existential crisis about whether Yunho thinks the same, that’s when you know you’re approaching your limit for the night. You step away to grab some water and begin the process of flushing your body. When you make it back to your circle, things have changed. Mingi, with his girlfriend in tow, lets everyone know that they’re going to find a private room before taking off up the stairs of the house. You know it’s irrational and probably motivated by the alcohol in your system, but you can't help but feel jealous that they can do something like that so easily. If you could see Yunho and drag him to a room anytime you were horny, you’re sure a lot of your life’s problems would be solved.

The moment they’re gone, Hongjoong leans in and quickly lets you know he’s also going upstairs to join some other acquaintances in karaoke. You’re just about to panic until Yeosang tugs on your arm to beckon for your attention.

“Going to the bathroom if you want to join,” he leans in and proposes, “I really need to pee.”

Everyone seems to have wanted to go their separate ways, but he’d never leave you alone all by your lonesome. And especially not with alcohol in your system. You grab onto his hand with a nod and let him lead you through hoards of people to the closest bathroom. Luckily, it’s empty and there’s no wait. It’s not long before you’re both locked away from the sound of music thumping from behind the door. While you search through your pockets for your lipgloss for reapplication, Yeosang jets for the toilet.

“I’m drained,” you mutter, “Being bombarded by strangers.”

“You showed up to the party looking like that and expected not to catch some eyes?”

He’s right, honestly. The red and white romper you’re wearing leaves nothing much to the imagination with the way your asscheeks are hanging out of the bottom or the way your breasts are squished together at the top. Your makeup and hair, your stockings and heels, everything just exudes pure sex appeal. All topped off with a little hat and a play syringe you’ve been using occasionally for “alcohol shots”. To be fair, your friend group mainly consisted of men, and many men found it intimidating to approach you with them always surrounding you in settings such as this. People must be feeling especially bold tonight with as much alcohol being drunk, you muse. He giggles to himself because he knows that typically you’d entertain some of the suitors for fun, but you seem devoted to the one man on your mind these days. 

“Bet you didn’t send your boyfriend a picture of your costume though, huh?” Yeosang teases, slurred words morphing into a laugh as he finally pulls down his pants. The subsequent sound of him peeing draws a laugh from you.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you scoff and nudge him in the back. He nearly loses his footing. 

“Stop, you're gonna make pee go everywhere!” How he is even still peeing with such ferocity is beyond you. This doesn’t stop him from adding in quickly, “I dare you to show him. It’s only fair, right?”

Alcohol-induced pride is something dangerous, but you’re never one to back down from a dare, even when sober. While he’s finishing up, you find your text thread with Yunho and send him the image you and Yeosang had taken together at the beginning of the party.

[Y/N: 1 image]

[Y/N: Matchingg with my besssttieee]

Coincidentally, Yunho is home and lonesomely watching YouTube videos when his phone pings. Oh wow…

He replies with several texts in a minute—one making sure to compliment you both, but the rest shamelessly thirsting over the way your costume is so lewd. Many other men may have made passes at you and offered plenty of flattery throughout the night, but none of them could make you get flustered as much as Yunho. This is the only man you care about hearing compliments from, the only man whose words matter. Maybe it’s that last bottle of soju making you so confident, but your hands move faster than your brain.

“Don’t turn around just yet,” you tell Yeosang quickly before pulling up your camera. You unzip your romper enough to pull one of your breasts out fully, squeezing it teasingly with one hand while the other takes a quick selfie. It’s a tad blurry, but it’ll do its job. After fixing yourself just as quickly, you give Yeosang the okay so he can wash his hands.

[Y/N: 1 invisible ink image]

[Y/N: Would you let me stick you???]

When he gets this notification, Yunho stares down at his throbbing cock already in his hand and laughs. He was already turned on enough by the other picture to pull it out from his sweatpants, but this? He’s usually not one to send nudes, but good God, he wants nothing more than for you to see exactly what you’re doing to him right now. Against his better judgment, he does just that.

[Yunho: 1 invisible ink image]

[Yunho: only if you let me reciprocate after]

When you uncover the picture, your breath catches in your throat: his hand is firmly wrapped around his aching, flushed cock. It looks as though he’s already been stroking himself eagerly, the way it’s glossy with lubricant and an angry shade of red. God, the things you would do to have him pick you up from this party and let you fuck him to your heart's content… Even though that could never happen, a girl can dream, so you decide you have to tell him exactly what’s on your mind. Yeosang’s too drunk to do his job of taking away your phone while you’re so many drinks deep. 

“Ready to go back?” Your best friend asks while drying his hands.

Holding your phone tight against your chest for privacy, you sputter, “Do you mind giving me a few minutes alone? I won’t be too long, promise.”

Yunho’s shocked when he sees your name come up on his phone for a call. He was beginning to get slightly nervous when you failed to respond to his attempt at sexting, but that didn’t stop him from staring at your photos and feverishly stroking his cock in the meantime.

“Hello?”

“Hello there, handsome,” you giggle, and Yunho immediately hears the intoxicated tremor laced in your words. 

“Having a fun night?” He asks with a laugh of his own, trying to refrain from breathing too heavily into the phone every time he squeezes his leaking tip with a little extra pressure. 

You’re too drunk to realize what he’s doing anyway, and you unknowingly feed into his journey toward an orgasm when you outright say, “Yes but… I want you so bad right now, Yu.”

Yunho’s breath nearly catches in his throat, and his face flushes bashfully as his hand glides faster up and down his cock.

His voice trembles a bit when he replies, “I wish I could make that happen for you, angel.”

“Well… you wanna know what I’d do if I was there?” You push further, closing your eyes and tuning out everything outside the door to focus on Yunho alone. He agrees promptly, head kicking back as he closes his eyes in the same way, tuning in solely to your voice. “Been wanting to ride you so bad lately. Keep imagining the way you’d sound when I bounce up and down in your lap… You make the prettiest noises, Yu, I swear.”

He physically swallows any of those aforementioned pretty noises trying to manifest in his throat, burying them deep in his chest before he responds with the only thing his brain can manifest.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, but…” You lower your voice to a whisper, “Do you think I could make you cum all by myself, like no help?”

Yunho is so close, he can barely hold himself together.

“I bet you could. Just seeing you feel good while using my dick would be enough to, honestly.”

The tiny drunken giggle that tumbles from your lips goes straight to his heart, “I say we test that out then.”

“Just let me know when you want to and I’ll be more than ready,” he assures you, accidentally punctuating that sentence with a soft, “ Fuck .”

“____, Jongho’s looking for us,” Yeosang calls out through the door. “They’re about to play a drinking game or something.”

For some reason, the knowledge that you’re talking so filthy like this while anyone on the other side of the door could perhaps hear you pushes him over the edge. With his phone on his chest, Yunho presses a tight hand over his mouth to suppress any noise threatening to come out, instead heavily breathing through his nostrils as spurts of cum sully his abdomen.

You sigh, “My liver is being summoned, gotta go. Bye-bye, handsome.”

The call ends before Yunho can even open his mouth to reply, but that’s fine because he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to come up with a coherent sentence anyway. He settles for dazedly texting you to let him know when you get home safely. The long and uncomfortably hot shower he takes to wash away the filth from his mind and his body leaves him feeling oddly refreshed. It might be because he hasn’t had a conversation with you not relating to the stresses of the previous weeks up until today. It’s silly that something so depraved ended up being the product, but God, does it feel fresh and exhilarating.

Now that midterm season was over and a good amount of grading had been taken off of his hands by taking on a TA, Yunho found himself with enough time on his hands to give his place a good cleaning. If he’s being completely honest with himself, he’s doing this to give himself more confidence in inviting you over again. It had been some time since he last had you there, but that was partially due to the treacherous state that it was in currently. You had been free from midterms for a week now, there were no excuses as to why he couldn’t spend private time with you in his place. The perfect opportunity arose directly after he accomplished his goal, when you mentioned in passing that you were one assignment away from being able to go out.

“How about you come do your work at my place instead?” he had offered, “I’ll order us dinner and we can relax together afterward.”

It didn’t take much convincing for you to end up on his doorstep half an hour later with your backpack slung over your shoulder. You’re so beautiful when you’re done up, there’s no denying that, but there’s something about you when you’re dressed so comfortably casual that makes Yunho get heart palpitations. When you look like that while lounging at his kitchen table, hands typing away at God knows what assignment, it just feels so domestic to him. You look like you belong there. He tries not to stare too much and gives you your space to work though, busying himself with some random medical show he pays no real mind to on Netflix while lying on his couch. Quite some time later, he hears you let out a hefty aggravated sigh. 

“Words are starting to blend together,” you murmur while rubbing your eyes. “Hate when this happens.”

“Take a break then, beautiful. Come sit with me?”

It started off innocent, it really did. 

Sitting curled up under Yunho’s arm in his lap has now entered the top ranks on your list of favorite positions to be in. It’s soothing, the way his fingers play with the frayed strings of your pants in between rubbing calming circles into your tense muscles. If you weren’t careful, you’re sure this man could lull you to sleep.

“I didn’t know you liked doctor shows,” you mumble against his chest. 

“I don’t,” he laughs, “I figured the girl who dressed up as a sexy nurse over the weekend would be interested.”

“Oh hush, you know Halloween is for foolishness.”

But, upon entering a conversation about Halloween, it leads to a conversation about your photo exchange. Yunho has been meaning to ask if he’s allowed to save that image for obvious reasons. Aside from it being sent while you were intoxicated, he also wants to be respectful about deleting it if need be. You reassure him that it’s okay for him to keep and use it whenever he likes, as you do not doubt in your mind he’d never let something like that slip from between you both. That’s when the phone call also comes up.

“Are you usually that horny when you’re intoxicated?” Yunho inquires, “Calling me up and talking like that was surprising.”

You sit up immediately, “I called you? You’re lying…”

“You don’t remember?” His brows hitch in surprise. 

“No, I don’t recall that at all,” you gaze back at him, dumbfounded, “What did I say?”

“Nothing much,” he lies, but he knows you’d never take that as an answer. Especially not when his cheeks are dusted in pink at you even asking.

“Please, tell me!” You nearly plead, “Oh God, was it embarrassing?”

“You really want to know that badly?”

The innocent nod you give him makes him give in. He remains focused on the TV to prevent himself from becoming too sheepish by looking into your eyes while recounting such words. Yunho is a bit more conservative with his words as he recalls your remarks about riding him. He’s unable to go into as much detail as you did of course, he doesn’t want to work himself up just thinking about it; moreover, he can’t even say some parts without fleeting thoughts of how he already jacked off simply to your voice telling him such things. It’s embarrassing to him how he lacks willpower when it comes to you, he’s a grown man for Christ’s sake. To be fair, you’re not much help. He doesn’t even notice how you’re toying with his sweatpants’ strings while he talks. When he finally tears his eyes from the TV and meets yours, the gaze you share has you finally moving from your spot.

Who knew Yunho’s living room couch was so comfortable on the knees? Surely not you, until yours are digging into it while you straddle his waist. It’s hard to focus on the way his lips are devouring your neck while his hands are simultaneously frisking every inch of your body he can reach. You don’t know at what point during the last minute you ended up with your joggers thrown a few feet away on the floor, or when he ended up with his sweatpants and underwear pooled around his feet. He can’t focus on anything else but the feeling of your bare cunt sliding back and forth over his cock, watching you teasingly smear your slick all over him with his mouth hung open. He can only take but so much of watching you work him up before he finally peers up into your eyes.

“God, you’re way too good at being a tease,” he sighs as he leans up to ghost his lips over yours. You can feel his little gasps every time you apply a little more of your weight on top of his painfully hard cock. He’s a patient man though, so he doesn’t mind letting you toy with him for however long your heart desires, “I’m not in a rush.”

“Maybe I’m just waiting for you to remind me how to fit it in me,” you joke, gasping as his hands busy themselves by massaging your sensitive breasts under your sports bra, “It's been a while since the last time, you know?”

The raspy laugh he lets out hits you right in your core, and even more so when he says, “You’re a very smart and capable girl, I know you can do it all by yourself.” 

The way he enunciates the last three words makes your core throb. When you finally lift your hips to wrap your hands around his length, his hands move from your breasts to your waist for support. You give him a few gentle pumps before lining him up with your sopping entrance. 

“There you go,” he encourages when you push yourself open on his tip with a needy moan.

You slide down his shaft gradually, inch by inch until you’re fully seated. The deep, shaky exhale you let out against Yunho’s neck makes him chuckle because you’re such a trooper even without any prep beforehand. 

“Give me a second.”

“Want some help?” He asks genuinely, massaging the plush of your thighs and chuckling when he feels you clench at the offer. 

He’d lay you down and take care of things himself if you wanted him to, as he’s never one to deny a pillow princess being the service dom he typically is. To his surprise, you begin moving your hips, lifting and sliding back down at a casual pace. His head kicks back and he sighs at the feeling of your warm walls swallowing him in and pushing him out, over and over. You can’t keep in the sounds of pure need and arousal that spill from your lips every time you feel his cock curve up and prod against that spot that makes your stomach do flips. When the sting from the initial stretch subsides, every glide feels breathtaking. You keep your head buried in his neck to focus on your hip movements instead, gasping and moaning in time with every sound of your ass striking his thighs.

You were right, he thinks, it had been quite some time since you both slept together that night of your first real date. Yunho’s been dreaming about that pretty cunt of yours since then—nearly daily—unable to match the feeling of the way you squeeze him with his hand, especially during the nights he works himself up enough to where he needs release. He didn’t want to seem too brazen or shamefully horny by reaching out and asking if he could show you more of what he could accomplish with that cock of his buried inside you, the sounds he wants to try and evoke. Nevertheless, he doesn’t want you to think that’s something that matters the most to him. 

Admittedly, the general nerves regarding your extracurricular activities with each other had subsided after the Halloween stint. Yunho gained a lot of confidence after that night. He previously felt guilty during midterm weeks because, even after he had expressly told you to focus on yourself, he was also so sure that there was plenty of midterm stress he could’ve helped you relieve, and vice versa. In many, many ways. Regardless, he decided to let sex with you occur naturally instead, such as last time. It was worth the wait though, if the way his teeth are sinking so deep into his bottom lip to stop himself from whimpering at this pleasure is anything to go by. 

“Fuck, mhm, just like that baby,” he hisses when you arch your back and begin rolling your hips against him, “Really gonna make me cum all by yourself, huh? Knew you were ambitious, angel.”

You feel yourself nearly gush with every word. This can’t be the same man who stands in front of you twice a week and talks about semantics, right? On the opposite end, how is he supposed to maintain any composure when the sounds of your sopping wet cunt sucking him in so easily are now battling the TV? Your arousal is so loud and it’s driving him crazy. He tends to firmly pinch at the meat of your bouncing ass and chuckle every time it elicits a helpless yelp from your throat, only to keep his antsy hands busy. Still, he makes an effort to let you do things by yourself, as you expressed.

“Yu?” you whimper into his skin a moment later, and he grunts to let you know he’s listening even if his mind is foggy with lust, “I wanna kiss you.”

Yunho’s heart nearly bursts out of his chest, cheeks flushing at how innocent the request is. His hand tenderly grabs you by the chin and leads your mouth to his while murmuring, “Stop hiding then, sweetheart.”

Time and time again, you’re reminded about how good of a kisser he is. There’s something addicting about the way he loves intertwining tongues and doesn’t care about being messy that turns you on to the highest degree. You can feel heat prickle over every inch of your skin when he pulls back your bottom lip with his teeth. When you begin to bounce faster and grow more eager to cum, Yunho’s hands finally grab underneath either cheek of your ass and begin to help you, hips rutting up in time with every quick hop of you on his cock. It doesn’t take long before his breathing becomes ragged, his own orgasm nearing, and you both break the kiss to gasp for air. Your hands grip onto his biceps when you feel your legs starting to give out from fatigue.

“I’m sorry I–”

“You can relax, sweetheart,” he pants, “Just a little more, I’ve got you.”

Yunho wraps his arms around your back, holding you steady and spreading his legs a bit farther apart before taking over and pistoning his hips into yours. The frenzied babbles of his name in his ear make his eyes roll to the ceiling. Your orgasm blindsides you entirely, hitting you right after a particularly sinful thrust directly into your G-spot. There's no time to indulge in the way you’re making some of the most euphoric sounds he’s ever heard himself pull from a woman because the feeling of your walls contracting and convulsing around his cock gives him the final push to finish himself. Right before he lets go, he lifts you off of his cock with strong arms and cum paints his t-shirt a few seconds later. 

“I say we go take a shower…” Yunho begins tentatively, reworking his thoughts after you both are breathing calmly again, “And then, we can order some food because I’m honestly starving. What do you say?”

“And where does finishing my assignment come in, hm?” You pinch his cheek.

“Ugh, you’re right…” he groans, “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time before the food is delivered, right?”

“I’m not even looking at that food until my work is done, and I mean i—” Your voice clips off when he suddenly stands to his feet with you maintained in his arms. 

“That shower isn’t going to run itself then,” he counters, lips tugging into a large smile as he happily strides towards his bedroom with you in tow.

Yunho had informed you beforehand that this next week was going to be a busy one for him, induced by training workshops the university decided to spring upon a few colleges. The Dean of his particular college thought that it was a good idea to shove all necessary sessions into the first week of November. He apologizes multiple times every time he thinks about it. You know he shouldn’t have to ever explain his business to you—he’s doing his job as a teacher, which comes first and foremost—but it’s nice that he considers you when his schedule is in conversation. You tell him time and time again that he shouldn’t concern himself with what you may or may not feel about his unavailability. He was nothing but patient with you during midterms, and you were more than happy to reciprocate that now that the time has come. 

The first day you have class with him that week, you choose to stick back while everyone else is bustling to get out of the door. It doesn’t take longer than a couple of minutes for the room to completely empty, save for you and your teacher. Normally, his eyes would light up noticing such a thing, but today he seems to be drowning in fatigue with the way his face doesn’t even budge. That doesn’t stop you from heading to his podium with tentative steps while he pulls on his blazer and packs up to continue his schedule.

“Got a minute?”

“For you? Always,” he hums without even looking up. He’s in the middle of shoving the last of his things in his briefcase when you hold up a tied-up plastic bag that catches his attention.

“I know you have a loaded day, so I brought you lunch,” you break the news before he can question it. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but you’re sure it’ll be enjoyable to eat regardless. “Just wanted to save you from having to make an extra stop across campus.”

“You’re amazing, ____,” Yunho utters in a soft voice before taking the bag from you carefully. He’s having a hard time mustering up any kind of physical joy today so he hopes that, for now, his words can at least convey what he’s failing to provide otherwise, “I know it doesn’t look like it but I really do appreciate this. Thank you.”

“You seem tense today,” you point out while moving to join him on his side of the podium. “Did something happen?”

The lecture hall’s doors don’t have any slit windows for prying eyes, so you reach up and rub a comforting hand over the back of his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs. If there’s anyone’s touch that could cure his problems, he’s sure it’s yours. Still, he doesn’t want to make himself too comfortable with the location you’re in.

“You wouldn’t believe how many things are going wrong today. I also have to meet with the head of my department for a performance evaluation based on the midterm grades. Everyone generally did very well but,” Yunho massages the bridge of his nose to help collect his thoughts before continuing, “It’s only my second semester, so the impression I’m making with these kinds of things is very important. I know I have nothing to be worried about but it’s hard not to be anxious.”

“Making yourself sick with stress isn’t going to help either,” you remind him.

“I know, I know. I’m just ready for this week to be over.”

“Maybe we should go out of town again this weekend,” you muse, hand moving to squeeze his shoulder affectionately, “I saw online some fall festivals are happening that might be fun to check out. I remember you saying you’ve never been to one.”

He peers down at you, lips splitting into his first genuine grin of the day, “She takes notes in and out of the classroom, how cute.”

“Only when it comes to you. What do you say?”

There’s a knock on the doors, but before Yunho can muster any words to answer it, the owner comes in anyway. Upon entering in a huff, Wooyoung stops dead in his tracks. His eyes flicker between the two of you before he hitches a brow. You offer him a mild-mannered smile and pull your hand away from Yunho’s shoulder slowly so as not to seem suspicious.

“Good afternoon Wooyoung,” Yunho says so naturally, though you’re groaning in your head, “Did you need something from me?”

You know it’s ridiculous of you, but you’re starting to envy Yunho’s TA. Recently, you’ve come to realize that you hate how Wooyoung gets an immense amount of time interacting with Yunho daily, but it’s still never enough. There’s always something more he needs. You get it, he’s technically an employee to make your teacher’s life easier. That’s something you should be cheering on, right? Deep down, in the most selfish part of your mind, you’re just tired of people always interrupting and interfering in the minimal amount of time you have with Yunho on campus, even unknowingly. 

“I remembered I had some questions about your grading criteria for the recent essay that I needed some clarification on before leaving,” he says, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker at you briefly, “But if you’re busy…”

“He’s not. We just finished chatting about what’s due next class,” you answer for Yunho instead, much to his dismay. He notices the tone change in your voice, but as much as he’d like to resolve that, he can only watch you grab your bag. He’s slow to catch himself frowning before fixing his face in front of his TA. While slipping past the younger gentleman to finally leave, you make sure to call out, “See you Friday, Mr. Jeong.”

It takes everything in you to not give Wooyoung the finger to the back of his head, but you decide it’s best not to let such things aggravate you. Again, Yunho is a teacher and this is part of his job. You shouldn’t be so angry at his assistant for doing what he needs to do to make his life easier.

You and your linguist do end up leaving the area again that weekend to attend a festival together. This particular town is covered in thick colorful trees that have yet to lose their leaves. Along with the overwhelming smells over different smells of various food carts and so many people laughing in enjoyment, the entire scene does a number on Yunho’s brain. It scratches a deep itch he didn’t realize he had. Playing little games with you for prizes makes him realize he hasn’t had this kind of fun in quite a long time. 

Yunho’s shocked with himself when he asks if you both can take a selfie together in front of all the colorful leaves before leaving for the day. He’s been thinking about something like this for quite some time, a bit dispirited by not being able to savor memories in pictures like everyone else can. Realistically, he knows he really shouldn’t be offering such blatant evidence of your romance to be left on either of your phones. Texts can easily be manipulated and argued, but selfies with you both in them don’t lie. These kinds of thoughts still nag at him in the back of his head even while he puts on this goofy grin, chin affectionately sitting atop your shoulder as he snaps his first photo with you ever. He wishes he could put something like this as his wallpaper. Even if he could, in a world where peeping eyes weren’t an issue, he wonders if that would be too much. Do you like the people you’re involved with to be that mushy? 

He doesn’t have the luxury of overthinking about these things for too long before you’re pinching his cheek to bring him back to reality. Reluctantly, Yunho decides to let his brain rest and focus on the rest of the time he has left with you. He’s unable to stay the night or do anything intimate that evening because of prior obligations taking up the rest of his night, but that doesn’t stop him from boldly leaning over his center console and surprising you with a slow, romantic kiss while parked right in front of your complex. He knows he should care, but he can’t find it in himself to be bothered with the risks when he just wants to show you that he appreciates you helping him relax today before he has to depart. You hear him loud and clear.

The following week, Seonghwa finds himself seeking out Yunho’s office after packing up for the day. Yunho’s thumbing at his phone’s keyboard when the courtesy knocks come and nearly scare him, but grants permission to enter. 

“I thought you’d be gone by now,” Seonghwa marvels when he finds his friend still perched in his office chair. “Your classes are usually over early on Thursdays, no?”

“I had to rework my syllabus and switch modules around because of some issues getting through lectures last week. Completely slipped my mind that I still needed to revise my lesson plans and slides for tomorrow until this morning,” Yunho sighs, “If I go home it’s definitely not getting done, so I have to stay.”

His friend surveys the ways his cheeks are slightly flushed as he glances back down at his phone briefly and tries to type something quickly. Sure, it could be from frustration or exhaustion caused by his tasks for the evening, but something seems different in the way he’s fidgeting in his chair. 

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Seonghwa inquires out of the blue, causing Yunho to lift his eyes from his phone abruptly. He offers a knowing smirk when Yunho’s brows furrowed in confusion, “You’re smiling a lot more these days— kinda glowing. Seems like you finally made it out of the dry spell and got laid.”

Yunho subconsciously tucks his phone in his lap, unconsciously confirming Seonghwa’s suspicions.

“Nobody special,” he replies, finding this white lie to be more suitable than lying outright, “Nothing much I can say.”

“Well, where’d you meet her? You don’t talk to anyone when we go out anymore so it couldn’t have been at the bar.”

Yunho hesitates for a brief moment before saying the first thing that comes to his mind, “Tinder.”

“I thought you deleted that app a while ago,” Seonghwa’s brows crease.

“I redownloaded it a while ago out of boredom,” Yunho explains quickly. He knows he’s not the best liar, but there is quite literally no way he’s going to tell his friend the truth about this situation whatsoever. Now, he almost wishes he had just fully lied at the start.

“And you can’t tell me more about a Tinder match?”

“I just–”

“I’d understand if I was San, but someone you can’t even tell me about?” Seonghwa jokes, but Yunho can tell this question is not entirely unserious. 

He understands where his friend is coming from. Their relationship runs a bit deeper than Yunho’s with the third addition to their friendship, even though all three are nearly brothers now considering the years they’ve been friends. There’s never been something that Yunho hasn’t been able to come to him about, and they’re both generally always open with anything between each other. Needless to say, Seonghwa always knows when something is off.

“It’s not like that Hwa, just that it’s nobody worth discussing,” Yunho insists, “Who knows where it’ll lead, you know? I’ll let you know if it goes anywhere.”

Seonghwa’s eyes linger on him for a few extra seconds before he simply hums in acceptance. There’s a particular look in his eyes as he sips his water bottle briefly, though.

“Alright... I’ll leave you with these words, though,” he begins, and his voice is earnest. The one he usually uses with Yunho when he needs some tough love. “You’ve worked hard to be where you’re at now. Be careful brother, okay?”

Yunho maintains a fairly neutral expression when he nods, careful to neither confirm nor deny Seonghwa’s thoughts, whatever they may be. Seonghwa is perceptive but surely he’d never pin Yunho as the type to have gotten involved with a student. At least, he hopes.

“You finished for today?” Yunho asks while Seonghwa searches for his keys in his pockets.

“Yeah, thank God.” When he finally finds his keys, he adds, “Don’t work yourself too hard and stay too late, ‘kay?”

Yunho assures him that he definitely won’t, and they both exchange goodbyes before he finally departs the room. He’s pretty sure that he should be the only teacher left on his side of the building in their office right now. He finally brings his phone out of his lap and shoots out the text he was in the process of sending before his friend entered his office.

[Yunho: are you almost done for the day?]

[Y/N: I’m walking to our lot now actually. Everything okay?]

Fuck. Yunho feels bad for summoning you like this on short notice but he can’t take it anymore. His mind has been thinking about one thing all day, and if it doesn’t get taken care of now he might go insane.

[Yunho: if you’re not too far can you come to my office..?]

[Yunho: pls]

You cease your walking, redirect yourself towards his side of campus, quickly typing back to let him know you’re on your way. You don’t get to see him that often, so you’d never deny the opportunity to make that happen. On your venture back to the building, you end up crossing paths with Seonghwa while he’s on his way to the parking lot to head home. The ambiguous glint in his eyes as you both acknowledge each other in passing doesn’t strike you as unusual, but you do take notice. 

The building is fairly empty when you enter, which isn’t surprising for the time of day. You take your time going up the elevator and striding to his office since it didn’t seem like this request was an emergency. You also figure it’s fine to enter outright since he specifically requested you to come immediately, but the door is locked upon turning the handle.

“Mr. Jeong?”

You use formalities after you knock just to be on the safe side; you’re not entirely sure who could be hanging around this late. Moreover, maybe he’s locked the door because he’s meeting with someone else briefly before you. Before you can even unlock your phone to text him and make sure he still needs you before leaving, you hear the door’s lock click open. He opens it a second later, enough for you to enter.

“Never seen you lock your door before.” You’re more preoccupied with shoving your phone in the side pocket of your bag as you enter to notice anything off. “Something happen?”

“I’m really sorry, I just didn’t want anyone else seeing me like this,” he explains quickly. 

You’re just about to ask him what he means, but Yunho doesn’t give you much of a chance to get too far before he circles his arms around your waist and swoops down to capture your lips. It’s an immensely needy kiss, one you’ve never received from him before. Unintentionally, when the aching boner in his pants brushes against you, he releases a soft groan into your mouth– Oh! The sound of him locking the door sends a chill down your back. 

You manage to pull away from him and laugh, brows furrowed in confusion, “Excuse me, have you forgotten where we are?”

“My colleagues are already gone for the day,” he reasons while walking you backward over to his desk. His face is flushed as he implores, “I need you to do me a favor, okay?”

“Of course,” you nod quickly, gazing up at him with expectant eyes. Why does he look so…desperate?

This moment doesn’t feel entirely real. You’re becoming increasingly wet just thinking about the things you could do now that you two were alone in his office if what he says is true. You’ve both exchanged plenty of fleeting, amicable touches when out in public, ones that not many would think twice about, but you’ve never tried something like this when you’re still on campus. Yunho fails to finish his request, too captivated with peppering your neck in wet open-mouthed kisses while he physically coaxes you to sit on his desk. You have on a skirt today, and he’s so thankful not to have to deal with the extra work of pulling off jeans.

“What do you want me to do, Yu? I’ll do anything,” you insist and wrap your arms around his neck, beckoning for his attention, “Just tell me.” 

When he stares directly into your eyes, trying to gain enough courage to speak, you reiterate once more that he can ask you for anything.

“I want you to let me go down on you,” he finally spits out before sitting back into the chair you usually sit in when visiting. 

“But… Right now? Here?”

“If you’re comfortable,” he adds.

It takes a few seconds for the words to fully sink in, and you hesitate briefly before lifting your skirt against your stomach and begin lying back. Yunho scoots his chair forward with an immense amount of anticipation building in his chest; he wasn’t sure earlier if this would take more convincing, but he’s grateful it didn’t.

“That’s really all?” Your brows crease while propping yourself up on your elbows to gaze down at him inquisitively. 

Your confusion makes him chuckle. For someone so good with words any other time, he surely has some trouble expressing himself well when it comes to you most times. Today, though, he decides to let his desires spill freely. He gets ahead of himself and licks a warm strip up your panties, briefly tasting the arousal that’s creating such a big wet spot in the seat of the garment.

“I don’t think you understand ____,” Yunho begins, voice low as he pulls your panties down your legs. The rise and fall of his chest quickens with excitement once you’re bare and spread open by his hands. “Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about doing this again for the longest time.”

“Eating my pussy?” He nods hastily, pressing searing kisses onto the insides of your thighs. “Why didn’t you just ask?”

He sighs when you run your hand through his hair, coy eyes gazing up at you from between your thighs, “I didn’t want to be too forward about it. How do I properly beg you to suffocate me?” 

“Just like that,” you laugh, but that’s cut abruptly by him roughly yanking you by your thighs closer to his face. As much as he’d love to entertain the rest of this conversation, he’s too impatient when you’re laid out in front of him like this, all wet and ready for his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks another long stripe upward, the initial taste making him sigh. The breathy moan you let fly at the brief contact makes his dick twitch in his pants.

“Been touching myself to the thought of these thighs around my head,” he admits, repeating the action but putting a little extra attention on your clit, “I was so hard today that I couldn't even stand up during my last lecture. You did that.” 

You would crack a teasing joke about Wooyoung having to do his job for him, but any words lingering in your head are stolen the moment Yunho buries his face in your cunt, nose prodding at your clit. He licks and laps messily at your heat like some famished gentlemen consuming a meal for the first time in days. The obscenities that spill from your lips amongst cute, helpless whines only make him nod his head. He wants you to learn—good and well—that this is something he’s self-admittedly very talented at and always ready to do if you ever find it within yourself to ask him. If you didn’t learn that the first time he briefly ate you out, you sure were going to learn now. Yunho’s tongue finds itself buried as far as he can manage in your hole, pushing in and out and savoring the way you taste. 

Your hands fly to your mouth because, even if Yunho is sure that you both are alone, you still don’t want the sound of you falling apart on his tongue seeping through the door with the way you’re progressively getting louder. He doesn’t mind you suppressing yourself, he’s set on filling the silence himself. The sounds of him slurping and sucking and kissing are so loud when bouncing against the walls of his small office.

“I love the taste of you,” he groans against your heat, sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt. You gasp and go to close your legs, to move away instinctively, but Yunho is too quick. His fingertips dig deep into the meat of your thighs as he makes an effort to keep them open, refusing to let you squirm away. “Let me finish this time,” he says, voice stern and brows furrowed.

God, that commanding voice he rarely uses could make you cum on the spot. Embarrassment flushes your face when you feel a new wave of arousal from those words gush and drip down your skin. He’s not going to let any of that go to waste though, sparing no time getting back to his ministrations. You don’t even realize that after a while you’ve begun to grind yourself against his face. He feels like he’s in heaven, his hands pulling and encouraging your hips forward as if silently saying yeah, keep going, just like that.

When he feels your legs become more tense, he decides to thrust two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt and latch his mouth onto your clit, set on abusing that spot inside of you that will finally give him exactly what he wants. He ignores the ache in his jaw because every yelp and whimper spilling from your lips spurs his endurance until he finally hears his favorite words.

“Y-Yu, m’gonna cum,” you sputter before he feels your thighs close in over his head. He doesn’t mind this time, this is right where he wants to be when you tip over anyway. 

Yunho lets out one last groan of his own onto your clit before he feels your legs go rigid, a signal he knows well now. Your back arches off the desk and he indulges in the feeling of you bucking against his face. He swallows everything you have to give him, mouth open and jaw slack as you tremble through your orgasm. It takes you what feels like forever to let go of his head, not like he’s complaining. When your legs go limp, Yunho slumps back in the chair with a huff. He’d get lock-jaw multiple times a week eating you out if you let him. He supposes this is something he should suggest eventually.

“You’re so hot, it’s unbelievable,” he heaves, staring at the mess he’s made of your cunt. There’s slick and cum and spit and everything in between ruining his desk, but he can’t find it in himself to care about the cleanup right now. When you’re finally able to sit up and breathe properly, he grins at you with that messy mouth of his, “Thank you, seriously.”

“Let me give you head too,” you offer eagerly, though you’re not even sure your knees are strong enough for that right now. To your surprise, Yunho shakes his head. “Please, I want to reciprocate!”

“You don’t have to,” he replies instead, finally fully gaining his breath back. The pout prominent on your face could make him melt into a puddle, he feels so bad but…

“But you deserve to cum too—”

“I… did already, ____,” he divulges and bashfully covers his face before you can see his cheeks flush with heat. You slowly glance down at his crotch and your eyes go wide. Yunho has indeed cum completely untouched, right inside his pants, as evident from the large wet spot soaking through his brown slacks.

A man who loves eating pussy so much he gets off just from your pleasure…

You push his arm away from his face and pull him in by his cheeks for an endearing kiss, one that you hope shows your appreciation and adoration. 

“I’ll take care of you another day,” you promise him against his lips upon breaking. Regardless of the embarrassment coursing through him at the moment, he nods in acceptance. Anxiously walking to his car with his briefcase pressed firmly against his crotch to hide the aftermath of committing various sins in his office after finishing his work for the day is not something he ever expected to do, but somehow it still feels gratifying all the same.

It’s around this week that Yunho begins to sit down and seriously start examining his feelings. A quiet night in his home where he’s alone leads him to decide to sort out the swarm of thoughts he’s been accumulating in his mind for the last couple of weeks.

There’s no doubt in his mind that you both share a connection he’s never experienced with another woman before. When this all first began, although he explicitly let you know that he genuinely likes you, he initially wondered if maybe that was coming from being so attention and touch-deprived for some time. That maybe he was latching onto something because you filled a void, a subconscious selfish attachment to you to satisfy the things he lacked. None of that ended up being true, not even close. You both had spent a considerable amount of time exploring this thing… he supposes that’s where the dilemma comes in. What is this “thing”? He knows things are complicated considering the circumstances; but, are you both technically dating, just without the official title until that resolves itself? You hadn’t necessarily made that clear. What if you found someone closer to your age who made you feel the same way as he did within that time? Someone who you could be normal with and not have to sneak around or hide to enjoy. 

This is where his selfishness comes in.

He thinks about how he would indeed be jealous and perturbed if he even saw you with another man like that, even if it makes your life easier. He doesn’t want to even think about you giving another man the same heart palpitations or sweaty hands he gets when he’s around you. He doesn’t want anyone else on that campus to know what it feels like to kiss you. He doesn’t want anyone else to know how good and fulfilling it feels to be the object of your desires. It’s been nearly three months of dates, spending time together, and learning the ins and outs of each other (in all five senses and beyond). How could he not feel infuriated if that were to happen? 

That’s when it clicks for Yunho: he’s fucking in love with you. The moment this loud thought crosses his mind, Yunho’s chest tightens in fear. The last time he thought he felt this way about a woman, she hurt him in a way that took him some lengthy time to heal from. And, as he always has to remind himself, you are not just some woman. You’re also his student. This isn’t as simple as unmatching someone on Tinder because things didn’t work out, or blocking someone after a heartbreak. Though, the more he thinks about that word — student — the more he realizes it doesn’t matter anymore. You are much more than that. And soon enough, that word would no longer be in your vocabulary anyway. The only thing he cares about now is that you end up his officially at the end of the day. He was going to do whatever he could to make the rest of your semester smooth and stress-free, so you both could be happy together when it’s over. 

And, as if you know you’re being thought of, Yunho’s phone buzzes with a text from you asking if he’s asleep. He debates with himself about whether he should bite the bullet and ask if you can both talk about things in the near future, but he ultimately decides against it. For now, he’ll indulge in the way you call his phone before he can even type a response and tell him that you want to fall asleep to his voice.

Some days later, you find yourself knocking on Yunho’s office door in the early afternoon. Unlike some people, you wait until he answers with a confirmation to enter. 

“Good afternoon,” he beams after realizing it’s you, wiping his hands clean with a napkin.

“Ah, I’m just in time,” you chirp with clasped hands when you spot his empty tupperware. “I was worried I was going to interrupt your eating.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered anyways, pretty. You’ve seen me eat many times.”

“You deserve to eat in peace at least once a day like everyone else,” you reason while sitting down across from him as usual, “I sprung this meeting on you last minute anyway.”

“Speaking of which, I’m still quite confused about why you wanted to come here for this,” he replies while spinning his chair from side to side, “I told you my home is always open for you, especially for things like this.”

“This” being discussing your final paper. The same thing that put you right into his lap in the first place.

“Just felt a little nostalgic I guess,” you grin, adding in a quieter voice, “And maybe a little jealous too.”

His brows furrow, “Jealous?”

His confusion is expected, as you’re sure he hasn’t paid attention to much of the interruptions you’ve experienced while with him the last few weeks on campus. It’s not simply Wooyoung either, but everyone who gets his attention on campus when you have to stay away for one reason or another. The way other women on campus look at him or speak to him, unaware that he’s already devoting his attention to you. It eats at you a bit sometimes. 

Yunho may be greedy but you’re much greedier, as if that wasn’t evident enough by the things you did to attract him in the first place. Even then, he’s never failed to oblige any of your requests, whether that be with his endearment, his time, or his… assets. He deserves everything in the world, and you can’t wait to give that to him when the time arrives. For now, you’ll behave to the best of your abilities.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just rambling,” you deflect, “Seeing you in your element is just nice, that’s all.”

Yunho’s curious about what’s going on in your mind but he decides not to pursue further answers. 

“So, what do I have the pleasure of helping you with today?” 

The apples of his cheeks are even more prominent today as he smiles while asking this. You know he loves his job, but you’re sure he doesn’t get this much glee during office hours with anyone else. 

“Last session at your house we talked about my analysis section and I remember you telling me that I was overthinking, but I’m still second-guessing myself on some of my points. I guess I just need to run some things by you to be one hundred percent sure I’m in a good direction.”

“You’re almost as bad as me,” he declares. As the self-proclaimed King of Overthinking, he’s the only person allowed to say such a thing to you. Still, it makes you pout.

“To be fair, we both know this is not my best subject, so this final might be more important to me than any of my others,” you confess. This is partially true; a small part of you wants to impress your handsome linguist by showing him a final product worth reading. 

“You know I’d take care of things regardless, right? You don’t have to stress about that.”

“I appreciate that, but I want to earn this grade genuinely,” you clarify. He lets you know he understands, but you want some extra reassurance when you say, “Promise me you’ll grade me genuinely, okay?”

“I get it. I promise pretty lady,” he guarantees you with a soft, affectionate smile. “I know I tell you all the time in the most inappropriate scenarios… but I mean it when I say you’re a smart woman. I know you’ll do fine.”

If he could see you right now, Yeosang would surely be laughing at you for being such a lover-girl and telling you that you’re an absolute idiot for passing up an automatic A+ on your final, but you never genuinely pursued Yunho for that kind of leverage anyway, regardless of the initial jokes. This was something you genuinely hoped Yunho was aware of when it came to communicating your feelings. 

As always, he takes all the time you need to help you with a list of things you want a second opinion on, sources you want to make sure are up to par, and everything in between. He thinks it’s cute when you pull out your little checklist named “Things To Ask Yu”, and diligently check each off as they’re completed.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips the moment you check off the final thing on the list. You both meet eyes for a brief moment, and the look donning his face is something oozing with pure adoration. You hold his gaze for what feels like forever before glancing at your watch. You’re making good time, it’s been almost an hour.

“When you look at me like that, it makes me want to throw away all my responsibilities and stay here all day,” you mumble.

He lets out an airy chuckle, “Am I keeping you from anything in particular?”

“I do have a class in about half an hour.”

He stretches his arms over his head with a grunt, “Sounds like we should end things for the day and meet here again in a couple of days then, Miss Nostalgia.”

“Well…” You trail off as you stand to your feet and make your way to the office door. 

Yunho watches your fingers lock his door before you stroll back over to his side of the desk. Something stirs in his gut as he looks up into your eyes when you finally reach him, calculating the way you gaze back at him playfully. The small mischievous smirk playing on your lips… God, he just knows he’s in trouble. He turns his attention toward his laptop when you sit yourself on top of his desk right beside him.

“Well?”

“Remember how I said I would take care of you at another time?” The feeling of the edge of his desk sinking into your thighs elicits a soft sigh while you recount that day, as if him eating you out like a Christmas dinner wasn’t already ingrained into your mind. “This seems like a moment where that would be fitting.”

“Do you remember where we are?” He mimics your statement the last time you were both intimate in his office, in the same cadence and everything. His fingers delicately click at his mouse as he tries to think of anything else other than your thighs peeking out of that pleated skirt you’re wearing, directly next to his hand.

“If I remember correctly, that didn’t matter last time…”

“The circumstances were very different,” he immediately counters. 

It’s true, to an extent; the timing was more on par for solitude. Regardless, he knows he sounds like the biggest hypocrite at the moment, even more evident by the roll of your eyes he catches out of the corner of his. He leans back in his chair and runs his hands through his hair. Sometimes he wishes he was more adventurous, less concerned about the consequences, and more accepting of the thrill of things. When he’s thinking of these things, it’s not even for his sake, but yours. He can’t handle the thought of you losing your degree due to his selfishness. And yet, he can’t help the arousal building from those thoughts about your mischievous side. You’re able to pull that side out of him so easily.

“And yet, you’re hard,” you say quietly when your eyes fall to his ever-so-inviting lap, a blithe little chuckle following. Subconsciously, he covers himself over his slacks. “Are you scared of getting caught even with the door locked?”

“____, it's 2 PM and we're in my office with many people passing by every minute. Not to mention my other students who could request me at literally any time,” he explains with a flustered smile, “This is immensely risky, you know that very well.”

“But–”

“You also know very well I’m extremely bad at being that quiet with you,” he interrupts your attempt to plead your case. Only then does he roll his head to the side and give you this look with low hooded eyes that finally make you glance away. His sentiments make goosebumps lace your skin because— fuck —yes you know he didn’t like being quiet. That was honestly an understatement. The heaving, moaning, and endless praise were only the start of what you could pull from the man during your escapades. 

You ponder for a brief moment, contemplating just letting it go, but end up pursing your lips and resorting to those famous eyes you give Yeosang when you want something unattainable.

“Please Yu, just let me give you a good blowjob. It'll be quick and quiet, I promise.”

He just can’t say no when you look at him like that, so he sighs, “I guess…”

“I also have an idea.”

Yunho is not sure what he initially expected when those words came out of your mouth, but surely it didn’t include the way your hands slip under your skirt and tug your panties down your legs. He’s sure his entire face is a deep shade of scarlet when you hold them out for him. It doesn’t help that they're visibly wet. 

“Maybe this can help you stay quiet, you know?” You suggest this while motioning to your face. He understands, of course, but he feels like this will just make things worse. So much worse. It’s confirmed when he feels his pants tighten from merely holding them in his hands. Still, he agrees and nervously pushes his chair back. After sinking under the desk, Yunho pulls his chair forward with enough room for you to sit on your knees comfortably. At least there was no way you would be seen if something strange were to arise.

Undoing his belt is one of your favorite parts, the anticipation visible in his ansty hands when he doesn’t know where to put them while you work it off. Your fingers tug lightly at his pants zipper before you dip your fingers past the hem of his waistband and pull them down quietly. He makes sure to lift his hips a little for you to slip them past just enough. You take one glance at his slightly flustered face before you pull his length from out the hole of his boxer briefs. It’s so hard that it hurts, leaking a copious amount of precum and making quite a mess.

“There are people outside the door,” he voices his nerves again at the last minute, peering at the shadows of feet passing the door, and then back down at you. 

“Didn’t know you had such an exhibitionist kink then,” you poke fun at him in a whisper, noticing how much he’s twitching once the words leave his lips. A teasing laugh slips from your lips and he groans in frustration, his empty hand moving to cock to stroke himself lazily.

“I do not have an exhibitionist kink,” Yunho snaps back with a huff. His cheeks are so flushed with chagrin, and it amuses you because if he really was that scared, he’d simply tell you no. He’d turn you away with that stern voice he rarely uses and suggest a different place and time. But Yunho wants this as much as you want it, despite what his mouth may say in the meantime.

“Ready?” You remove his hand and let a long string of saliva fall from your tongue onto his tip, just enough for lubrication. Then, you place your hands around his shaft and start stroking him yourself, mixing the spit with his dribble of precum. “You seem pretty turned on by the idea of being caught, Yu.”

The endless string of soft gasps and strangled noises of air coming from him as you work your hands on him just the way he likes is enough to drive your pride up the wall. There was always something different about how you touched him that he’d never be able to fulfill himself. He’s indubitably addicted to you.

"Shit, ___–”

“Shhhh. Unless you’d prefer to get caught?” You quirk a brow curiously as you increase pressure on him so he can’t supply an answer. Instead, he kicks his head back and lets out a soft, satisfied moan that sounds similar to your name. You follow that with a tsk! and shake your head disapprovingly. “My mouth hasn’t even touched you and you’re already a mess.”

He lowers his eyes to meet yours with a pointed glare and a chill runs down your spine, “Taking your sweet time is not helping.”

You go to taunt him again but can't even finish the first word before his free hand rakes through your hair and pushes your open mouth down on his cock instead. Yunho twitches and throbs under you with a low, constricted grunt while you clutch his thighs with your nails. He’s in love with the way you look up at him so innocently, your plush lips wrapped around his length and tears prodding the corners of your eyes at the sudden intrusion. It amazes him how you’re still able to smile, eyes half-lidded as if he had just blessed your mouth.

“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself… Can I?” He sighs out, implying letting him use your mouth as he sees fit. 

The hum you release around his length and the way you relax your jaw confirm his request. Yunho holds you gently on either side of your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks tenderly before guiding you up and down his cock at a leisurely speed. Occasionally, he accidentally prods at the back of your throat and elicits a choked moan. He whispers his apologies each time even though he has nothing to be sorry about, but it’s just a habit. He winds his hand in your hair and pulls his cock out a bit to focus your mouth on his tip, bucking his hips in short, hasty thrusts and reveling in the way it draws sloppy noises from your mouth while you seal your lips around his tip to keep from making things too messy. The panties pressed to his face with his other hand aren’t doing much to repress those grunts that come from deep within his chest.

“Feels so good,” he pants softly from under the fabric, lips fixing to whimper, “Am I going too fast?”

You moan around his length once more, shaking your head and blinking away any remaining dampness from your lashes.

“If it’s ever too much, tell me to stop and I'll stop,” he insists affectionately, but those dark brown eyes are fixated on yours with blown-out irises and deep carnal cravings. 

He can’t expect you to ever want him to stop when he looks like that, right? Of course not. You take everything he gives you like the good girl he already knows you are, the sounds of your squelchy throat filling the silence and bouncing off the walls of his office. As much as you try to keep things clean, you can’t help the flood of saliva dripping onto his underwear the faster he fucks into your mouth. You can tell his orgasm is growing closer and closer by the way his thighs start trembling. 

And even though Yunho thinks he hears a sound closer to his office door than his comfort would allow, he continues his pace. Your eyes are closed, focused solely on breathing, so you aren’t aware of the way his attention is elsewhere. His eyes stayed trained on the silhouette of feet at the bottom of the door’s threshold, and there’s a fleeting thought of whether he should stop. That thought is overwritten with pure lust, spurred on by the way you reach up and begin to massage his balls the best you can from your position. Yunho bites down on your panties, muffling the whine bubbling from his chest. A moment later, your panties fall from his mouth and his hips lose all rhythm.

“Fuck ____– cumming,” he groans a little too loudly, but his head is somewhere deep in outer space, brain screaming at him for release, “Where?”

You open your mouth just the slightest bit wider to emphasize that you want him to cum down your throat. Yunho halts his hips altogether and you feel his cock throb in your mouth as he finally releases everything he has to offer. He’s no longer concerned with who may or may not be lurking at the door; the only thing he can focus on is the way you lock eyes with him while swallowing his essence and sucking him clean after the fact. Nothing else matters at this moment but you.

Friday’s class ends earlier than normal when Yunho gets through his lecture for the period faster than expected. 

“I need you to help me dye my hair soon if you have some time,” Yeosang says the moment people begin to stand and leave. You glance over to find him grimacing while looking into the camera of his phone, “I think I need to go back to pink or something, the brown is just not doing it for me.”

“I knew it wouldn’t last long,” you snort while filling up your backpack, “You’re just not used to having natural colors anymore.”

“I can’t even argue with that, my love.”

You ruffle a hand through his tresses before he finally stands to his feet, and you follow suit. Then, you toss a couple of things around in your mind about your schedule as you both walk down the lecture hall stairs before suggesting, “Actually, you could come over tonight if you already have the supplies.”

“Fuck, you’re the best. I’ll bring dinner too?”

Before you can even answer, a voice calls your name and steals your attention. Surprisingly, it’s Wooyoung of all people approaching you both. You can’t even hide the disinterest you feel in acknowledging him, it’s written all over your face. 

“Do you mind if I speak with you privately for a moment?” he inquires, motioning towards his chair.

Yeosang meets your eyes inquisitively before stepping away and telling you he’ll meet up with you later. The class has emptied when you both venture over to Wooyoung’s seat, and he begins searching through his bag for something in particular.

“Is there an issue with something I submitted?”

“Not necessarily,” he replies. “I suppose I just want some insight.”

He pulls out the notebook he uses for tracking grades in this class and places it on the table. People always find it a bit weird that he prefers to do things by hand first before electronically and, sure it might be more work than necessary, but he prefers to have both methods.

“I’m a pretty meticulous person, ____. I noticed that there’s a discrepancy in the grades for last week’s short essay assignment,” Wooyoung begins in a honeyed voice, “Though, the only discrepancy was on yours.”

“I’m not sure why you’re coming to me about this when Mr. Jeong handles things like this,” you respond indifferently. “I would ask him about the mistake.”

Wooyoung smiles and leans forward on his elbows, “That’s the funny thing, I did. He told me that he had made the change himself and not to worry about it. No other explanations.”

“Well again, he’s the teacher, so it sounds pretty open and shut then.”

“It’s never that simple, ____. I looked back and noticed this has happened a few times throughout the last month, actually.”

“If you’re just going to keep badgering me about grade changes I have nothing to do with then I’m gonna end this conversation here.” To be honest with yourself, there’s a part of you deep down that’s cursing profusely at Yunho for messing with your grades, and so openly at that. This is something you had explicitly made clear you didn’t need or want, but he had done it anyway. This is something you would have to chastise him about later in a very serious conversation. That’s the only concern on your mind as you start taking steps toward the doors and wave with a flick of your wrist, “Anyways, I’ve gotta go. I have other obligations for the day.”

“You mean like sucking off your teacher again?”

You cease all movement and turn back towards him, “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, that came out a little blunt, didn’t it?” He holds his hands up in remission. “It’s just not hard to put two and two together when your ear is pressed to a door and all you hear is choking, you know?”

“I have no clue what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’m offended you think I’d need that to pass a class anyway,” you reply indignantly. Still, there’s this slight feeling of panic pooling in your stomach.

Wooyoung gives you a knowing look, “You’re going to play stupid, really?”

“Look, I really don’t have the time for this—”

“I suppose we could ask the Dean what she thinks about things then? He said your name quite a few times, luckily,” Wooyoung interrupts you and suggests instead. His eyes flicker down to his phone and a pure look of fear at the thought that he possibly has a recording of you and Yunho’s depravity slates your face. “Oh, that got your attention.”

His laugh that follows that statement hits you right in your gut.

“My God, you’re an absolute asshole,” you seethe, but stop yourself before you can say anything worse. You’re well aware that being mean won’t get you on his good side. Instead, you calm yourself and rub your temples before asking, “What do you want to keep quiet, money? I don’t have much to offer but I can figure something out.”

“Listen, ____,” he says as he leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together, “I have a simple proposition that could make all of this just disappear.”

“Spit it out already then.”

“I want you to pretend we’re together for a little bit, publicly. Just enough time to make my ex want me back. Then, we can call it quits and go about our lives as if none of this happened.”

You can’t help the scoff that comes out of you, “You want me to fake date you to make your ex jealous, or else you’re going to essentially ruin my life. Is that what I’m hearing?”

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound evil,” Wooyoung points out with a hefty sigh. He slumps in his seat, “I’m not an evil guy, I would just like some help. That’s all. And you’re just not really in a position to say no, unlike others I’ve asked.”

“There’s a reason why those people said no, obviously,” you retort bitterly. He lets your sharp words roll off his back and simply smiles; there’s nothing you could say that would help your position and he knows this. It’s mid-November and graduation is in approximately a month. Surely it shouldn’t take that long for this plan of Wooyoung’s to finish, he knows this. The thought of it going on longer than necessary makes you feel physically ill though. Not to mention what Yunho would think about you having to interact with Wooyoung intimately.

“I want to make something clear as well,” he begins as if he’s forgotten this himself, “You cannot tell any of this to Mr. Jeong either. I don’t want my money for my assistant position to be compromised, obviously.”

Your brain begins to short-circuit at the thought of having to date Wooyoung openly without Yunho being aware it’s fake. The logistics in itself would cause you immense stress that you surely don’t need while closing out the end of your semester. You should very well be focusing on graduating and nothing more. Nonetheless, the last thing you want is for Yunho to lose his job because you couldn’t keep your mouth to yourself when he was already concerned about being caught that day. You don’t even care about the consequences for yourself, you’d feel immense guilt forever for ruining Yunho’s career and reputation. But, if Yunho heard that you were dating his TA, he’d surely break things off with you anyway. That thought scared you even more.

“So, would you like to exchange numbers?”

Halting your panic-stricken daze is Wooyoung’s hand surrendering his phone to you, a blank contact screen ever-so-inviting. You feel defeated, and you know this is going to end up turning out poorly, but you just can’t risk Yunho losing his job over you. When your anxious fingers snatch his phone and begin typing your information, Wooyoung sighs in contentment.

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I apologize if I missed anyone! Thank you for reading ◡̈