#but for me the best part of their relationship is that there is no guarantee of something romantic between them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

urmum-lovesme · 1 month ago

Text

Bunny (P9)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reade

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: well- here's the next part gang 🤟 Next part is gonna take me 3 day at least pls don't gang up on me and track me down I beg.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, police stations, abuse, bad father daughter relationship, aggression, blood, bruises, malnutrition, sad bunny but soft!Rafe (idk ig?)

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13)

The restaurant is warm, filled with the scent of sizzling meat, it’s small, family-run, where the walls are covered in colourful tapestries and old generational photos. A string of mismatched fairy lights flickers above the booth, casting a golden glow over the chipped wooden tables. It’s comfortable and homey- somewhere that the two girls come all the time given the owners are Sofia's family friends, somewhere Y/N would usually feel at ease.

But not tonight.

She’s sitting across from Sofia in a corner booth, her fingers idly picking at the tortilla chips in front of her, breaking them into tiny pieces but never bringing them to her mouth. Her stomach feels heavy, but not from hunger. The weight in her chest has been there for two days now, pressing down on her every time she tries to push her reality out of her mind. Sofia on the other hand, is talking animatedly, her dark eyes bright with excitement;

“—and then he tells me he’s never been to the Cut before- I mean I know he's new but can you believe that? Like, he’s lived on this island for three months, and he’s never even crossed the bridge for more than a minute?” She shakes her head playfully before continuing,

“I mean, it’s probably a red flag, right? Or maybe it’s, like- cute? No you know what, he needs me to show him around right? I'm not delusional but I really feel that this time its dif-”

Y/N hums absently, nodding as she moves the chips around her plate, the low hum of their conversation in the restaurant blends with the soft guitar playing through the old speakers near the register. Sofia keeps talking, something about how 'this new guy actually texts back', how he asked her about her day, how it’s refreshing. Y/N wants to listen, she really does. She wants to be present, to ask the right questions and tease Sofia about her obvious crush. But all she can think about is the fact that there’s a baby inside her.

A baby she didn’t ask for.

A baby whose father is a faceless, nameless shadow.

Her fingers tighten slightly around a broken chip, her jaw clenching and this time, Sofia notices. She pauses mid-sentence, her gaze flicking to Y/N’s untouched food, the way she hasn’t really reacted to anything she’s said.

“What’s up with you?” Sofia asks, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, “and don’t tell me you’re just tired, because I know when you’re lying to me.”

Y/N’s throat tightens. She presses her lips together, willing herself to keep it together, but under Sofia’s knowing stare, her walls start to crack. She exhales sharply, finally looking up from the mess of now broken crumbs.

“I don’t even know Sof,”

She mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper. Sofia’s expression softens, and she reaches across the table, resting a hand on Y/N’s,

“Hey, come on.- you’re my best friend. You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Y/N swallows hard. She wants to tell her. But saying it out loud makes it real, and she’s not sure she’s fully ready for that. Instead, she just stares down at the table, trying to figure out how to even begin. She shifts slightly in her seat, exhaling through her nose. She knows Sofia won’t drop it- she never does when she knows something’s off. So she pushes out a breath and shrugs, giving Sofia a tired half-smile.

“It’s just... JJ and I got into it a few days ago. And I guess it’s just- taking a toll on me more than I thought it would.”

It’s not a lie.

Not really

“You and JJ always fight. Like, all the time. It never lasts more than a day.”

Sofia’s brows furrow as she looks to the girl comfortingly. Y/N presses her lips together again, tracing the rim of her water glass with her finger, “Yeah, well… this time, he’s not talking to me. He’s just been… I don’t know. Distant? He only texts me if he needs something or to tell me he’s crashing at John B’s.”

She shrugs again, trying to make it seem like it’s not a big deal, even though it is. Because JJ has never done this before. Even when they fought, they never really ignored each other. And now, when she needs him more than ever, he’s pulling away. Sofia watches her carefully, taking in the way Y/N won’t quite meet her eyes, how she keeps fidgeting with her glass.

“Okay, yeah... that sucks,” she admits. “But, this is JJ we’re talking about? He’s your brother. There’s no way he stays mad at you forever- I mean, I literally watched you two try to strangle each other over an out of date Pop-Tart, and five minutes later, you were splitting it in half.” Y/N lets out a small, hollow chuckle at the memory, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and Sofia sighs,

“Look, I get it. It sucks when things feel off between you two. But whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Y/N nods, but she doesn’t say anything because although her relationship with JJ is an issue at the moment- it isn’t the problem.

But he’s a safe excuse.

So she lets Sofia keep talking, lets the conversation shift back to her and the guy she’s seeing. But even as she nods and hums at the right moments, she can’t shake the feeling that things are starting to slip out her grasp.

The ride home is quiet, the low hum of Sofia’s car filling the space between them. Y/N watches the streets pass by, the neon lights of convenience stores and run-down gas stations casting eye-catching glows. As they pull up in front of her house, she exhales and turns to her best friend, guilt tugging at her,

"Sorry I was pretty shitty company today."

Sofia scoffs softly waving her hand in dismissal before shifting in her seat to face her, "No, you weren’t. Don’t be silly." She leans over, pressing a quick, reassuring kiss to the side of Y/N’s face. Y/N musters a small smile, trying to believe her.

"I love you."

"I love you too, girlfriend. See you tomorrow?"

Sofia tilts her head, giving her a gentle smile in return. Y/N nods, lifting a hand to send her a playful air kiss before stepping out of the car. She watches Sofia drive away, then turns towards the house, her eyes catching on the familiar sight of JJ’s bike parked in the driveway. Stepping inside, she finds him in the living room, shoving clothes into a bag. He doesn’t look up right away, just keeps moving, shoulders tense. Y/N hesitates, watching him.

She wants to tell him everything.

She wants to fall apart right here and let him put her back together, just to be held by someone who would understand. Yet the way he’s been acting- the distance, the short replies- makes it feel impossible. He finally glances at her, expression unreadable.

"You good... ?"

It nearly breaks her and she forces herself to nod quickly, swallowing down the lump in her throat answering,

"Yeah. You?"

"Been fine."

JJ shrugs, his voice flat as he responds- and that’s it. They both know there’s something wrong, but neither of them know how to fix it. Y/N’s gaze flickers to the half-packed bag beside him. Her throat feels thick as she clears it before she asks,

"Where are you going?"

"John B’s for a few days."

JJ doesn’t stop what he’s doing as he answers. She nods, pretending it doesn’t sting, pretending she doesn’t feel him slipping further away instead putting on a small smile and mumbling out an,

"Oh... okay."

For a second, he hesitates at the sound of her voice.

His fingers grip the zipper of his bag a little tighter, like maybe he wants to say something more, but then he just exhales sharply, slings the strap over his shoulder and mutters,

"I’ll see you later."

And he’s gone.

The door shuts behind him, and all that’s left is silence. Y/N stands there, staring at the empty space where he stood, the weight of his absence pressing down on her. Her mind wanders but she startles at the sudden, shrill ring of the landline. Her brows furrow as she looks over at it. Nobody ever calls the house phone, she's even been meaning to cancel the damn thing for months now, but it always slipped her mind. A weird feeling creeps up her spine as she crosses the room and picks up the receiver.

"Hello?"

There’s a brief pause, then a robotic voice filters through the line:

"This is a collect call from—" a short beep sounds before a gruff, familiar voice cuts in,

"Luke Christopher Maybank."

"—an inmate at Kildare County Police Station. Do you accept the call?"

Y/N's stomach drops and she exhales sharply, pressing her forehead against the wall as she closes her eyes. For a second, she considers hanging up. Just letting it ring out and pretending she never picked up, but instead, she reluctantly whispers,

"Yes"

A click can be heard and then his voice, rough and slightly muffled rings out from the other end, "Y/N?"

She swallows, "Dad?"

"You gotta pick me up," he grumbles. "These fuckin' cops got me locked up for nothin’. Just some bullshit drunk and disorderly charge—it's all a misunderstanding, alright? Just—just get down here."

Y/N presses her palm to her face, dragging it down as she leans heavier against the wall. She doesn’t say anything right away. What is there to say? Why was she picking up her own father from the police station- last time she checked in every other normal families home it was the parents picking up the teenagers. Luke huffs out a frustrated breath when she doesn’t answer fast enough.

"C’mon, girl, I know you’re there. Don’t be difficult, just come get me. And—" he pauses,

"bring some money with you."

Y/N stills and her heart sinks. Money? All she has left is that two hundred and fifty dollars, well now two hundred since she had to tank her car up. The money she was saving for her... problem. Her fingers curl tightly around the phone cord as she stares at the floor, cursing him in her mind, rage bubbling up in her chest. Luke snaps, his voice sharper this time,

"Can you hear me or wha-"

"-yes I can fucking hear you, alright?"

Y/N bites out before she can stop herself. A little too harsh. There’s a beat of silence between them before he hums, a low, warning sound, but he doesn’t say anything else. She feels a little nervous, knowing she shouldn’t have spoken to him like that. She never should have spoke to him like that. The telephone beeps, signaling the time running out. She exhales, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I'm coming."

Luke sniffs, shifting on the other end, "You better be kid."

The line clicks dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N steps into the Kildare County Police Station, her shoes clicking sharply on the tile as she walks toward the counter. The air smells stale, the buzz of the overhead lights almost as grating as the noise in her mind. The officer behind the desk looks up at her and she clears her throat, her voice steady but flat,

"I'm here for Luke Maybank"

The officer nods, picking up the phone to make a call. But before she has time to stand there, Shoupe steps out from behind the door. He notices her immediately, the familiar face giving her a slight pause. He says offering her a nod,

"Y/N"

"Shoupe."

She looks up, a tight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. He asks, his hands resting on the counter leaning in slightly.

"How’ve you been?"

"Good."

She keeps her answer short and stiff. He raises an eyebrow, as if he expected more before continuing,

"Well, I've been good too thanks for asking."

Y/N hums noncommittally and glances at the floor. Shoupe has always been kind to her, but at the end of the day he's still part of the police... and she can't really trust him, and he knows that. Shoupe exhales and motions to the officer at the desk.

"I’ll take care of this one."

He takes the place of the previous officer, fingers tapping rhythmically to type into the computer. Y/N glances around the waiting room which is practically empty, except for a middle aged man fast asleep in the far corner chair. Shoupe pulls out a piece of paper from the printer and places it on the counter infront of her.

"Your dad’s bail is $500."

Y/N’s eyes flick down to the piece of paper, mouth going dry at the sound of the number. Her eyes flicker across the document and land on the digits printed out in bold. Her hand slips into the pocket of her hoodie and takes out the $200 she’s been clinging to, counting it out slowly before offering it to him by placing it on the counter.

"That’s all I’ve got."

"Y/N..."

"Shoupe," she cuts him off, "That’s literally all I have left."

She gives him a look as if it should be obvious that she's clearly done with all of this. Shoupe runs a hand over his forehead, his eyes softening as he looks down at the cash on the counter. He sighs heavily.

He knows what goes on in that house.

Knows the toll it’s taken on her and JJ, but legally, he can’t do anything unless they report something. He winces, clearly not liking the way she’s speaking to him, but he doesn't push it.

"Look Y/N, I’ve told you before, if you and JJ ever need help... if you’re ready to talk about your dad, about what’s going on-"

"-I have nothing to say -he’s my dad."

She interrupts him again, eyes narrowing, voice steely but her heart is thumping heavily in her chest. There’s a long pause as he studies her, but she doesn’t flinch. Her expression is unreadable. Finally he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"I can’t keep doing this, Y/N."

He says it softly, almost apologetically. He looks at the money again, then back up at her. He hesitates for a long moment before shaking his head, clearly wrestling with his own conscience. But then, after another long pause, he reaches out and takes the $200 from where it lay,

"This is the last time I it slide."

Y/N doesn’t respond, just stares at him for a beat. She knows she should probably feel something- relief maybe, but instead she just feels tired.

"Thanks"

She mutters, and she doesn’t bother to offer any more words.

Shoupe turns to leave, and when he returns Luke steps into the reception, his presence filling the space with that familiar weight she’s always hated. His eyes land on her immediately, and he plasters on a grin.

“Hey, kiddo”

He greets, the warmth in his voice as forced as the fatherly act he’s putting on. Before she can react, he pulls her into a hug. It’s stiff, his arms heavy around her, and Y/N doesn’t exactly return it. She just stands there, barely breathing, eyes momentarily flicking toward the reception desk where she knows Shoupe is watching. Luke’s grip tightens briefly before he steps back, clapping a hand on her shoulder like nothing’s wrong.

“C’mon, let’s go home huh?”

Without waiting for a response, he turns and strides toward the exit, acting like this is all just some minor inconvenience. Y/N doesn’t move right away. Her gaze moving back to the front desk, landing on Shoupe who’s watching her with that same expression, like he’s waiting for her to say something- to do something.

But she swallows down the lump in her throat and turns away, walking after Luke without another glance back.

Outside, he's is already waiting by the passenger side of her car, leaning against the door, like she didn’t just use the last of her money to get him out of a cell. Y/N doesn’t say a word as she steps toward the driver’s side. The moment she clicks the unlock button, Luke pulls the door open and gets in without hesitation, shutting it behind him.

She lingers outside for a second, inhaling sharply. Her fingers twitch at her side before she finally lifts a shaky hand, curling it around the handle. She pulls the door open and slides in, shutting it behind her with a quiet thud. The quiet settles thick between them and the air in the car feels suffocating. Luke is staring straight ahead, unmoving, unreadable. Y/N doesn’t look at him. She can’t. The tension makes her skin crawl, makes her hands itch to grip the steering wheel just to have something to hol-

CRACK

A sharp, blinding pain explodes across her face.

Her head snaps to the side, and for a moment the world blurs as blood splatters across the driver’s side window, red prominent against the glass. She cries out, the sound involuntary, ripped from her throat as agony spreads through her skull. Before she can process, before she can even breathe, a rough hand seizes her by the t-shirt, yanking her against the door.

“Don’t ever fuckin' speak to me like that again.”

His voice is a low growl, thick with rage, spit flying as he sneers at her and his fingers dig into the fabric, twisting and constricting. Y/N’s hands fly up, wrapping around his wrists, but she’s helpless—he’s too strong, too relentless. The pressure makes it hard to breathe, hard to think beyond the burning pain radiating from her nose.

Her lips part, but no sound comes out. Luke slams her against the door again, harder this time. The whole car shakes.

“Is that fuckin' clear?!”

A sob breaks from her, raw and shaky, “-yes.”

His grip tightens, “What was that?”

“Yes sir.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, voice barely above a whisper, trembling. He stares at her for a moment longer, the fury in his eyes making her stomach churn. Then, with a sharp shove, he releases her, sending her back against the seat. Luke exhales harshly, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off the moment, then mutters,

“Drive”

Y/N’s whole body is trembling, her breaths uneven. Slowly, her shaking hand lifts, fingertips grazing the sticky warmth dripping from her nose. She pulls back, eyes locking on the crimson staining her fingers.

“Now.” His tone is sharper this time, a warning.

“If you ain’t gonna drive right now Y/N, I swear to God you’ll be limpin' home.”

She doesn’t hesitate after that.

With jerky, frantic movements, she starts the car, the engine roaring to life. Her head is pounding, the sharp sting of her broken nose making her vision blur, but she forces herself to focus. She pulls out of the lot and onto the road, the streetlights casting long shadows over her shaking hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The beach parking lot is empty, save for her car, parked near the dunes. It’s late- but there’s no way in hell she’s going home, not tonight.

Not all alone with him there.

The air is thick with salt, the distant crash of waves the only sound cutting through the quiet. Her car door is open, letting in the cool night breeze, and the windows are rolled down. It helps her breathe, helps her not feel so confined.

She flips down the visor mirror, tilting her face slightly to the side. The faint glow from the overhead light highlights the swelling creeping along the bridge of her nose, the discoloration already setting in- a deep, ugly bruise spreading beneath her skin.

She sighs.

In the cup holder, a fast-food cup sits, condensation dripping down the sides. It was full of ice earlier, but now it’s just cold water. Her passenger seat holds a damp, crumpled t-shirt, stained slightly red from when she pressed it to her face after the bleeding slowed. Her fingers ghost over her nose, wincing when even the lightest touch sends a sharp sting through her skull. She drops her hand, pressing her head back against the seat with a quiet exhale.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there, staring at nothing, just listening to the waves. The night stretches on, then the low rumble of an approaching engine made her fingers twitch against the steering wheel. She flicked the mirror shut, cutting off the reflection of her slightly swollen nose, and turned her head just as the black Range Rover slowed to a stop a few feet away. The headlights dimmed, the driver’s door opened, and out stepped Rafe.

Two whole days.

Forty-eight hours since she’d told him and in all that time, not a single word, she didn't see him once.

Now he was here.

He walked toward her car, his movements purposeful but not rushed. The glow of the parking lot lights bounced off his sharp features, making his expression unreadable. When he stopped at her open door, he glanced down at her in the darkness, his mouth parting slightly before he finally spoke.

“Hi”

Y/N swallowed, feeling like she was made of glass, like she had to keep herself still or she’d crack.

“Hey.”

Her eyes flickered downward. He was holding something—an envelope, brown and slightly crumpled at the edges his voice calls out,

"I had a feeling I'd find you here"

Her brow furrowed slightly, curiosity prickling at her, but before she could ask, Rafe exhaled through his nose and said,

“I think we should talk.”

She hesitated, then gave him a small nod, eyes darting away as she jerked her chin toward the passenger seat in silent invitation. As Rafe moved around the car to get in, she saw it—the bloodied t-shirt still crumpled where she’d left it. She quickly snatched it up in an instant, shoving it into the back seat just as Rafe opened the door.

He settled into the passenger seat, the dim light from the dashboard casting a faint glow over them. He glanced at her, ready to speak, but then his expression shifted. His brows furrowed, his jaw tightening as he took in the dark bruising spreading across her nose, the faint swelling along her cheekbone. His voice was sharp, edged with something she didn’t want to name.

“The fuck is that?”

“I fell down the stairs.”

Y/N barely blinked responding- many years of experience had taught her to lie without hesitation. Rafe let out a short, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head.

“And what? The stairs punched you in the face when you got to the bottom?”

Her fingers curled into fists against her lap, the muscles in her jaw tightening, “Just shut the fuck up, Rafe. If you don’t have anything to say, get out of my car.”

"I'm trying to be nice-"

"Yeah? Well I don't want your niceties"

His nostrils flared, exhaling a long, irritated breath, but he pushed it down. His fingers drummed once against the envelope in his lap before he finally stilled. Rafe shifted in his seat, gripping the envelope before exhaling like he was about to say something.

“So, I—”

Before he could get another word out, a loud growl echoed through the car. She froze, her lips pressing together as if that could take it back. Apart from the lunch she’d had with Sofia, she hadn’t eaten anything else all day. Her body had clearly decided to remind her of that at the worst possible moment.

“Sorry”

She mumbled, trying to act like it was nothing. Rafe gave her a look, one brow lifting.

“Do you need to eat or…?”

She shook her head quickly, “I’m fine.”

He didn’t look convinced at all, he looked skeptical as he started patting his pockets, digging around like he was searching for something. After a few seconds, he pulled out a slightly squished protein bar and held it out to her.

“Here.”

Y/N stared at him, blinking in disbelief and Rafe rolled his eyes.

“Relax, it’s Topper’s. He left it in my car.”

She hesitated for a moment, glancing between him and the protein bar before finally taking it from his hand. “Thanks,” she muttered, unwrapping it and taking a small bite, the dull ache in her stomach started to ease almost instantly.

Rafe just watched.

Y/N’s eyes flickered to the envelope in his hands as she chewed the protein bar. She gestured to it with her fingers, swallowing before asking,

“What is it?”

“It’s a trip to Charleston. With a hotel booked near a—” His jaw tensed, like he was choosing his words carefully.

“Near a clinic.”

Her chewing slowed- then it stopped altogether.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the bar as she stared at him. Two days. He hadn’t spoken to her in two days, and in that time… he had organised this? She asked, her voice quieter than before.

“What?”

“I found a clinic in Charleston. One that’s, you know… quiet.” He lifted the envelope slightly as he shifted in his seat.

“Booked an appointment for you.”

Her fingers crumpled the wrapper before shoving it into the empty cup holder. Slowly, she reached out, taking the envelope from him, her fingertips brushing against the brown paper as she peeled it open. Inside, there were neatly printed documents- clinic appointment verification, hotel booking confirmation, the details laid out in plain ink. She stared at them, her eyes scanning over the words but barely processing them.

“You did this…?”

“Yeah.”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first, she wasn’t sure what to say or how to respond. Rafe ran a hand over his jaw, his voice quieter now.

“You deserve to have that option you know.... It’s not like you asked to get pregnant.”

Her fingers curled around the papers, her grip tightening slightly. She nodded once, her throat suddenly feeling tight. A breath passed her lips, and then, in the softest voice- so quiet because if it was any louder, she knew it would waver- she murmured,

“Thank you.”

She pulled out the clinic information, her eyes scanning over the details. “It’s for Tuesday evening,” Rafe said, watching her as she read. “Least busy time of the week.” Y/N nodded slightly, and she turned the envelope upside down, letting the rest of its contents slide out- and then her breath hitched.

A thick wad of cash fell into her lap, the weight of it heavy.

Her fingers hesitated before picking it up, and as she held it, she could already tell- it wasn’t some small stack of bills- it was a lot. She turned to him, eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Is this for all the clini—”

“No,” he cut in before she could even finish, shaking his head, “the hotel, the ferry, the clinic—it’s all been paid for.”

Her brows pulled together in confusion. “I'm sorry... ?”

“It’s been paid for”

He repeated, voice firm. She glanced down at the money again, gripping it a little tighter. She lifted it slightly, gesturing as she asked him.

“So… what’s this for?”

“It’s for Friday.”

Rafe exhaled through his nose and her stomach clenched slightly. Friday. The evening she'd spent being his- private dancer. “Oh” she muttered, realization settling in. Rafe’s jaw ticked, and he gave her a small nod.

“Yeah… it’s yours.”

Y/N looked down to the green paper biting her lip before she flicked her fingers through the thick stack of bills, her breath catching as she counted. Her eye's widened in disbelief and she recounted it all again- slowly and surely, yet the result was the same.

Three thousand dollars.

Her head shook immediately, “Rafe, I can’t take this.”

“Y/N—”

“No, I— I can’t take this,” she said more firmly now, shoving the cash back into the envelope.

“This is insane. We didn’t even—fuck, I didn’t even 'dance' for you”

She said and both of them knew exactly what she was referring to when she spoke of dancing. His jaw clenched as he sighed out,

“Just take it.”

“No.”

His frustration spiked slightly, “Can you stop being so fucking stubborn and take the money?” Y/N met his stare head-on, her grip still firm on the envelope. Yet neither of them backed down. Rafe exhaled sharply, his fingers tapping against his knee before he tried again.

"Just take the money… please."

His voice was lower this time, a little less sharp, and when she glanced up at him, his eyes weren’t as hard as before. Y/N looked back down at the envelope in her lap, her fingers grazing over the edges. Her chest felt tight, torn between her pride and the harsh reality of needing it. She let out a quiet breath, then slid the money back into the envelope without another word. Deep down, as much as she hated accepting it, she knew she needed it.

Y/N looked back down to her lap and picked up the folded pieces of paper, the crinkling of the paper broke the heavy silence and she stared at it her fingers slowly dragging over the surface, tracing the edge of the ferry ticket she’d just pulled out.

There were two.

Her thumb brushed over the printed words on the tickets, her gaze flickering between them. The cold night air from the open window tugged at her hair, but she barely noticed. “Thought you’d want to take someone with you...” he said, nodding toward the tickets,

“So you’re not alone.”

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and she caught the sincerity in his gaze. It was strange, this version of Rafe, the one who wasn’t demanding or mocking, just... there. She couldn’t help but feel the tight knot in her chest loosen just slightly.

“One of your Pogues or something”

He added. She let out a small, heavy sigh as her head leaned back against the headrest. Her fingers fidgeted with the tickets again, but this time it wasn’t because she was trying to make sense of them. It was because something in her stomach twisted- an ache that had nothing to do with hunger anymore. Her gaze dropped to the tickets in her hands, the crinkling of the paper loud in the quiet car.

“They don’t know”

She said softly, her voice barely a whisper, the words tumbling out like an admission she hadn’t meant to make. Rafe’s expression shifted, his brows furrowing as he turned to look at her more intently.

“What?”

Y/N’s lips parted, but she hesitated for a moment. She swallowed hard, her eyes still on the tickets, the words coming out barely above a whisper,

“No one knows”

The car seemed to get even quieter, the sound of the ocean in the distance a hum. She could feel his gaze on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look up tp him. The silence stretched on, thick and unspoken, until finally, she turned to face him, her voice low but steady.

“…You’re the only one who knows.”

Rafe froze.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. His fingers twitched at his sides, his jaw tightening, but all he could do was sit there, processing what she’d just said. Y/N’s words hung in the air, and she couldn’t quite shake the vulnerability that had seeped into her bones- the weight of the secret that had been hers alone to carry. She stared down at the ferry tickets again, her fingers absently shuffling them in her lap, but her mind was elsewhere. After what felt like hours, she broke the silence. Her voice was small, fragile,

“Would—... would you go with me?”

The question hung in the air between them, tentative and raw, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t meant to ask it, hadn’t planned on it, but there it was, slipping out like a confession. Rafe didn’t answer immediately. He just stared at her, his face unreadable, his eyes scanning hers like he was trying to figure out if she really meant it.

If this was truly what she wanted.

The seconds dragged by, stretched thin as they sat in the car, Finally, Rafe spoke out, his voice low, almost as if he's not sure he heard her correctly.

"Me?"

Y/N nodded, her gaze steady on him, her fingers tightening around the ferry tickets. He already knew deep down what his answer was going to be, but the question still caught him off guard and he hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to go with her- but because he wasn’t sure what it would change between them. He sighed, his hand twitching against his thigh before he turned to her fully, meeting her eyes. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah... I’ll go with you."

There's a long pause as the words settle between them, and Y/N looks at him for a moment, as if waiting for him to take it back, but he doesn’t.

He means it.

taglist: @xoxosblogsblog @moonywhisp3rs @i-love-gvf @my-name-is-baby@ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @mariamadison6-blog@rafesgurl@rafecameronswhoore @lovelytoomusic @mysticbby2009 @vanessa-rafesgirl@silkenthusiasts @partygirl14 @amterasuu @xoxo-ada @icaqttt@ivysprophecy @mauvesmax @larema121 @ggraycelynn @emeloyy @pluviophilis@slut-4-gojo @willowpains @wtfisastiles @rafecqmeronslove @pleasstory@lolasangelz @beau-dabomb @psychocitylights @constantsadness @rhianthebest@emmiesummers @sfotiegiuls @ggraycelynn @larema121 @emeloyy @pluviophilis@urgoldens @insominagirlss @urfavoritebrunette007 @mauvesmax @miniiminie@kythefangirl25 @niyalovests @scream4mami @aizawawify @prettybabyyyy@barbiefan14 @keennerdslover @rafeysslut @rafeysworldim19@jennieonline@hannieskzzz@sugak00kie03@gabrielaperez11@simonejacpbsen@bambigirl10

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acid-ixx · 6 months ago

Note

Sigh.. We all should've have chosen both wally and conner...i can't imagine the faces of batfam

how to be a heartbreaker! (again &. again concept)

ft. yandere! wally west, starfire, roy harper, artemis, conner kent, bart allen x gn! neglected! reader w/ platonic yandere! batfam.

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

tw: age gaps but there isn't nsfw (except for conner) and the reader is described to be older than 20 in this concept and was far ignored longer than in the og story.

a/n: happy (late) halloween! 🎃 i'm praying to the gods, please don't let this post flop, i'm in my flop era fr! because i am not writing allat for it to get ignored 💔 (just kidding i love u guys, especially to all those who comment! i read all your comments even if i'm unable to reply at times). if you guys are wondering why i didn't include all the characters, it's because this is just a drabble and if anyone likes more concepts about this, please send in asks! anyways, enjoy this sweet harem au hehe.

anon, you are so right. but let me raise you this: getting together with all your siblings' teammates. i'm not just saying wally and conner, no! i'm saying the young justice, the teen titans, all their friends and old pals— the moment you come of age, hide under the radar for a few years and eventually meet them at random. you'd be giving dick, hell, even bruce, your father, mind you, a run for his money when it comes to a player reputation amongst the siblings, and the best part (or worst part for you once it's too late...) of it all is the fact that you don't even have to keep all your little relationships with them a secret when they never once bat an eye on you until recently.

the funny thing is: you didn't even have to try to attract them. it was all them approaching you at random days and getting to know you better, with you, at your lowest point, accepting any medium of attention. at first it was them feeling pity, perceptive to how your siblings chose to focus on them rather than you, but now it's them chasing after you because you're so interesting in every aspect; even if you find yourself average at best compared to your talented siblings.

maybe it's because you bring the normal out in them, or because you display such raw emotions and are an entirely separate being from vigilantism. either way, they find themselves thinking about you more often than their missions and that's harrowing.

and because you're such a pathetic, wet cat, so desperate for love; all the people you hit on develop a savior complex because of you. i don't just mean them finding you cute, or interesting, absolutely not. i mean you're constantly being thrown around like a prince or princess who needs a knight in shining armor to catch them when they fall, except you're constantly being carried in some other's arms even when you can stand on your own two feet.

you just have that special quality in you that makes everyone fall head over heels. it makes them fantasize scenarios of a home life with you; they could provide better than your current ones do, for sure. you'd be spoiled to death with kisses to your face, hands wrapped around your body, and a guarantee that you'll never feel alone or unsafe in a world full of danger that lurks around the corner.

that same quality may have also been your downfall.

wally west doesn't mind training all day to become stronger and faster to save you from every danger that lingers near your presence. hell, he doesn't complain anymore whenever dick assigns him some missions if that means he can pass by your room by the manor as an after-mission reward, loving it when you smile at him with the gentlest quip of your mouth as he hastily wraps you in his arms with the same amount of speed it took to run to your house. wally cherishes watching you in slow-time because he could worship every little part of his darling's expression, quelling the boredom he had for the entire day. he wants to be fast enough for his babe, not only just to impress them but because he wants them to see him as the only reliable individual capable enough of protecting and flirting with you. not everyone can measure up to his speed, no? nobody could keep up with this man's speed and he's known for taking you away whenever you're with someone else just to get a sliver of your time.

starfire's emotions become ablaze and so does her powers every time she notices one of your other sweethearts becoming too touchy with you, unable to comprehend why you're not even in a relationship with her yet. but you're too sweet and you bury yourself in her curly tresses to calm her down. at first that's enough! she doesn't understand the concept of physical affection and the boundaries that come with it as much as others but boy does she crave it when it comes to you. it doesn't help the fact that you're incapable of sometimes denying her affections and letting yourself be constantly kissed by the girl in every part of your face. she's very warm, though, and her curiosity about things foreign to her, paired with you teaching her more about your world, makes starfire adore her sweetheart's willingness and patience; it simply warrants another passionate kiss in the mouth from the pink-haired alien.

roy harper brings out a more rebellious side of you that you never imagine yourself sporting. his experiences in life and his rebellious relationship towards oliver queen, his adoptive father shapes him to who he is now; and he'd be damned if you drown yourself in endless misery like he did. yeah, it doesn't help that lian loves you as much as he does and he thinks you're the perfect match for him, watching you play with his little girl and care for him whenever he's injured does wonders for the fantasies that plays itself in his head, all scenarios of coming home to you after a hard day of work, just to see you and lian greet him the moment he enters your shared house with him, kissing him in the lips, telling him about the wonderfully prepared dinner you and lian whipped up for him, and watching your eyes widen at another bouquet of your favorite flowers he bought home for you. you're not in a relationship with him at all but can't a man just dream?

why dick wonders every damn time one of his friends ditch another one of their hangouts is a question never to be answered. but it's been noticeable these days that he's starting to suspect something wrong at play, especially since he's noticed tension within his comrades, and as a leader he couldn't just simply ignore the tense glares, insults to their being, and the hushed whispers; all pet names, a mantra they're used to calling you.

but dick doesn't take it seriously until it's too late.

that his baby bird long fell off the nest years ago, taken into the arms of whom he thought to be his most trusted comrades, thoroughly loved more than he could've given you. and it's not just one person smitten with you; it's an entire harem of people unwilling to share you just as much as dick who'd soon realize that he shares far more similarities with you; a heartbreaker, yet a caretaker at heart.

it's no wonder why everybody wants you for themselves. it's not only your family who loves to hear your precious laughs and gentle hands; that sets the jealousy ablaze in his heart.

jason never thought that artemis carried a softer version of her. but he's been picking up telltale signs of her donning dangling keychains, all cute doodles of her no doubt, and necklaces he's sure he's seen around the manor at times. it's not her typical style, and she never really found the appeal with cute things like crochet plushies of her; yet the designs are oddly reminiscent to someone he always called his angel. but whenever he tries to bring the topic up, he only receives a snarky reply, a protective hold on her things, and a familiar phrase telling him to mind his business. he isn't aware of how she met you one time after you've nearly been crushed to death by a car accelerating at you, if not for her taking the blunt end of the hit. ever since that day you've been seeing her regularly by alleyways watching over you as your guardian and giving her tokens of appreciation, albeit small, that she keeps as her prized properties; ones nobody has special access to touch. she's not much of a heckler for physical touch, but she occasionally gives you a head scratches and the rare peck to your lips.

jason doesn't like how jealous he is towards her, because of how the would-be stranger treats her and why he can't seem to pinpoint the primal urge to rip those little trinkets from her. sometimes he feels like a man possessed, eyeing the keychains and the random pastel bracelets longer, all warranting the same angered glare artemis reciprocates.

he swore he's seen them before, splayed across the random rooms in the manor, some even being in the library; things he loved to fiddle with whenever he was bored out of his mind. so seeing them being proudly displayed by artemis triggers visceral reactions within him.

but could jason do anything about it when he's part of the reason why your roster consists of your family's comrades? no.

if you couldn't get attention from your family, you'll just have to get it through their affiliations. yeah, some are older than you, but god are you treated like divinity with just how willing they are to kneel upon your feet just to gain a crumb of your attention. even the strongest lay weak whenever you look at them with disappointment or sadness with your wide, captivating eyes.

all the times tim drake would be with teammates, he'd notice how their eyes look at him expectantly, as if waiting for another one to accompany them. at first he ignores it, but the longer their strange behavior persists, he begins opening a case about his close friends.

he soon realizes that conner has a record of mentioning "his cute little darling," and how he'd brag to his other friends about how left his jacket and all his favorite t-shirts in your room and how you're always drowning in his scent— always quiping about just how much it smells like you and how he enjoys wearing all his clothes right after you wear them just to get a whiff of your presence in his life; you being his motivation to fight against crime just so he could see your pretty face and tell him you're proud of him. undeniably, he's the one who spends the longest time with you and he's prideful about it, being the only man with the privilege to touch every part of your skin, wishing to melt against you just so he'd be branded in your body like how your name is the only sweet thing he can taste in his mouth.

it's not only conner, but bart allen would bounce around more often demanding that it's unfair how conner gets everything and how he gets little time with you, with just how often you get thrown around by all your love interests! he'd admit just how cute he finds you whenever you coo about him and play with his messy locks of hair whenever it's his time of the week to visit you right after missions. spending time with him is arguably the most casual part of your life, because he loves to help you with your daily errands despite him complaining about the same tasks to his other teammates... he says it's because you stimulate every part of his brain to find satisfaction in every small action that you do, but it's not only that, rather, he wishes to gain all your praises that you sing for him, never finding boredom in your presence at all.

tim's the first one who pieces the jigsaw puzzle together, but he's thoroughly astounded either way at just how smitten they are with you. it makes him open an entirely different case that's just about you; where he discovers how you're connected with nearly everyone close to him and his siblings.

it makes him wonder what makes you all the more interesting. it's how exactly he spirals into a periodic cluster of events investigating your entire life and drowning himself in work, terabytes of files each analyzed carefully— all about you, your past, and present situation. tim drake never saw a person this admired that much, so much so that online stalking lead to physical stalking.

all your dm's are spammed by countless people, and you don't even take the initiative to reply because you'd be too busy being tossed around by the time the vigilante tracks your location. it's honestly amusing at first but the longer tim become a third perspective to your life, the more he craves your physical presence, just to get a taste of dissecting all the thoughts in your brain. but with just how often their friends fight over you, it'd be hard to rip you away from the clawing hands of all your admirers.

that's why he sets a plan into motion. if he couldn't have you to himself, then he could at least share you with the closest people he had in his life— not with all the strangers who think they know his younger sibling better than he does.

a simple document, many actually, so documents, were all he needed, with printed stacks of a4 paper compiling each and every known fact about you.

all in the name of love, he'd give it out to every member of the family in quick succession.

a hefty reminder to take back what once was theirs.

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luffydotcom · 22 days ago

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worst fears

synopsis: one piece characters worst fears in a relationship feat: straw hats (luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, robin) + ace and law warnings: angst + slight spoiler for ace's past notes: i honestly was a bit stuck for law's part so bear with me PLEASE also yeah not me finally posting things after ages sorry pookies

luffy

losing you.

LUFFY'S worst fear is that when worst comes to worst, he won't be able save you when you need him the most.

although he always tries to protect you, LUFFY has experienced losing loved ones before because he wasn't strong enough, and he never wants it to happen again. he loves everyone in his life so much, especially you, and never wants to lose them. but what if one day he slips up and the cost is losing you forever?

zoro

not being able to protect you.

ZORO'S unwavering loyalty to those he cares about means that he has made it his sworn mission to protect them at all times. in fact, that's practically his main role in the crew - to protect everyone from danger, so he believes he has to always do this right.

he works hard to protect those he cares about, and would never be able to forgive himself if he let something happen to you or was too late to protect you from danger.

he can't predict the future and he can't guarantee your safety at all times, and he hates it. he knows how unpredictable life is and that anything could happen at any moment, which makes him scared of what could happen to you.

nami

being powerless when you need her the most.

NAMI knows what it's like to have no one there to save you or protect you when you're in pain, suffering or in danger. thankfully, she found her way out thanks to her friends, but what if she can't help you?

when it comes to someone she cares about, she can't just rest easy when they need help because she hates seeing those she loves in pain. despite what people think, she would be ready to go above and beyond for someone she loves. she wants to do whatever she can as soon as she can to help you, and she fears that something could happen and make this impossible for her to do.

usopp

being replaced by somebody else.

USOPP wants to believe that he's just the guy you need, but he can't ignore his insecurities that tell him that he's useless and weak all the time. and this feeds into his biggest fear when being with you.

while you don't have an issue with his flaws, to him, his 'negative' qualities and weaknesses mean that he is easy to abandon. he feels like you being with him is just holding yourself back from something - or someone - better.

his worst fear is that you'll have had enough of the 'weak' parts of him, and that one day, you'll get tired of him and just replace him with someone else.

sanji

being a burden to you.

SANJI doesn't just love you - he practically worships your entire being and sees you as flawless and capable of no wrong. he sees you as someone who deserves only the best and nothing less. in comparison, he sees himself as someone who deserves basically nothing.

although you offer warm smiles in his direction and constantly assure him how much you care about him, he can't possibly understand how you could ever love a 'failure' like him.

he hates himself for thinking it, but he sometimes is afraid that your feelings are just fake or out of pity for someone like him. his biggest, worst fear is that he's just a burden to you and someone you're wasting your time on - and that and one day, you'll let him know it by just leaving him for good.

robin

you giving up on her.

ROBIN'S worst fear, in a way, is a little similar to sanji's. she doesn't want to be a burden to you because she can't forget how she was treated her whole life. people around her treated her like a nuisance and a monster just for her existence and where she came from, making her feel like she had nowhere to belong.

it's something she's been trying to unlearn ever since joining the crew, and she knows it's not very likely, but her worst fear is that you won't see her as someone worth fighting for, protecting, or loving anymore. instead, you too will see her as someone who doesn’t belong anywhere.

she's afraid that you'll see her just as how everyone has in her past - a devil whose existence only brings trouble to everyone.

ace

you stop loving him.

ACE has always felt like love is something that needs to be earned, especially for him. sometimes, he can't even believe how lucky he is to have someone like you - someone who doesn't care about the blood that flows in his veins because you know that doesn't matter to who he is.

however, his biggest fear is what happens if that love diminishes for good. he's afraid you'll start to be remember who he exactly is - the son of the world's biggest criminal, the pirate king himself. he's scared that you'll find him a nuisance to be associated with, and stop loving him altogether because of it.

law

disappointing you.

LAW knows that he isn't very openly affectionate and that he struggles to show his his feelings at times, making him appear closed-off and cold to others. although he does know that he really and truly loves you - his worst fear is disappointing you in the relationship because you may feel like he doesn't.

he knows what a healthy and loving relationship is supposed to look like and how other people show love, but he's afraid that he'll fail you by not being able to give you that. he hates the thought of letting you down when you deserve so much better than he is.

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hattiewritesalot · 11 months ago

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Awake

Azriel x fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel is undeniably furious, especially considering the fact that Y/N has yet to wake up. But, when she does, what will become of their relationship?

Warnings: Vomiting, mentions of Az wanting to kill people for his bbg, very fluffy. Bit of hurt/comfort for both Azriel and Y/N

A/N: Here is part two of Poison (which, btw, thank u for all the support I've been getting on it 😭). feel free to send in requests for acotar bc I'm bored<3

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Azriel doesn’t think he’s ever been angrier in his entire life.

He’s supposed to stay calm and collected, every inch the mysterious spymaster, but not even the strongest sedative could settle the rage brewing in his chest. His shadows curl menacingly around his limbs, the black essence seeming to share his fury.

Rhysand sighs, rubbing his temples. Feyre stands behind him, probably to offer some form of comfort. They both adore Y/N. They’ve practically adopted her with how much they coddle and coo at her, despite her loud laughter and complaints whenever they do.

Cauldron, what Azriel wouldn't do to hear that laugh right now.

It’s been three days. Y/N is not awake. His mate is not awake.

Rhysand finally looks up at Azriel. “We’ve got answers, at least.” Before Azriel can interrupt, he keeps talking. “Beron has admitted to poisoning Y/N. He figured that if he targeted her, we’d crumble. Not because she’s the strongest, but because she’s the most… beloved, daresay. He didn’t think we’d hit back, and he thought he’d be able to crush us with this crack in our defences.”

Azriel’s scarred knuckles are alabaster from how hard he’s gripping the arms of his chair. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he just admit it?” The High Lord of Night takes a deep breath.

“He found it funny.” The noise that tears from Azriel’s throat is completely inhumane, and completely unlike him. He storms to the door, but Cassian’s strong arms hold him back, urging him to stay calm, urging him to breathe. He can’t. He’s gone past being angry, and he’s gone past blaming it on the new mating bond.

Y/N is his best friend. He’d die and kill for her, he’d steal the moon and stars if it meant she’d be happy. The Mother’s bond can go and fuck itself, because the one he’s already got with Y/N will always be stronger.

“I’ve arranged a meeting with Eris Vanserra.” Rhys’ firm voice cuts through the haze of rage. “He says he has plans, and that this event has solidified his desires. I may be unable to tell you what comes of the meeting, but I guarantee that Beron will suffer for what he did to Y/N.”

Mate. Awake. He almost doesn’t realise what his shadows are whispering to him. Awake. Eyes open. Vomit. GO. He chokes, and desperately tries to break free of Cassian's grip. He needs to see her. He needs her to be okay. “Az, Rhys just said-”

“I know what he just said!” Azriel hates the way his voice is more of a sob. “She’s awake- she’s- please, let me go to her!”

A shadowsinger shouldn’t beg. He shouldn’t grovel. He should attack.

But he doesn’t, because he knows that Y/N is far more important than any conflict he could have with Cassian right now.

And, besides, Cassian lets him go. He’s never run so fast in his life. His feet are barely on the ground, legs and shadows and wings working in tandem to get him there as soon as possible. He thinks he might be the one vomiting in a minute.

Rhys groans. “I know they’re close, but he’s going to drive me insane before I even have this meeting.”

But Feyre, ever the observant High Lady, stares at his retreating form, hand squeezing Rhys’ shoulder. “Give him time. I’m sure he’ll cool off, when he knows she’s safe.” A small smile quirks up at the corners of her lips, knowing exactly why Azriel is so worked up.

---------------------------------------------------------------

His chest heaves as he pushes the door open, but then it’s filled with warmth. Alive. She’s alive, and upright, and very visibly pissed off but it’s okay because she’s alive.

“The one time I drink something that isn’t champagne-” she croaks out. “-and it turns out to be fucking poisoned. If that’s not my luck I don’t know what is.”

Azriel can’t control the desperate sob that bursts from his lips as he clambers onto the bed, pulling her into his chest. She’s sweaty, and feverish, and she’s just puked into the bucket next to the bed, but he’ll be damned if he cares. She’s alive. He buries his face in her hair, arms and wings squeezing her so tightly it makes her squeak.

“Alright big guy, I’ve just been sick, let’s not try and go for round two.” Her tone is teasing, joking, but the moment he pulls away, her face falls. “Az…” she murmurs, moving her fingers up to wipe his tears. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he spits, sobbing again. “What’s wrong!? You were fucking poisoned! You’ve been puking and coughing and writhing and screaming ever since you got here, and you’ve been out for three days. Three whole days- where- I didn’t know if you were dead, I didn’t know if you-”

“Az.” her tone is a bit firmer now, thumbs pressing against his lips. “I’m okay. I’m gonna be okay. I’m here, I’m breathing, and I’m going to be fine. Breathe.”

He heaves a deep breath, clutching her so tightly his fingers make indents on her skin. If she notices, she doesn’t care. “You’re… okay.”

“I’m okay.” She smiles. Her lips are cracked and slightly discoloured, but he’s missed her little smile so fucking much. “Come on, Az, you know me. Tough as nails.” She flexes her arms, and Azriel snorts.

“There’s nothing there. You should really stop skipping training.” “No! You’re always a dick to me in training!”

“Yes, because Cassian’s about as mean as a wet sponge, and it isn’t potty training, it’s battle tactics.” She scoffs. “Whatever, whatever.” And he grins, and hugs her again, trying to engrave the memory of her wrapped up in his arms into his brain, just to keep there forever. “Azriel?” He hums in response. “I- so, you know a couple days back? When... this... happened, and I was just about to fall asleep?” She swallows. “I think I felt something… snap.”

His heart pounds in his chest. “The bond? You felt it too?”

“Uh- yeah.” She looks up at him, big eyes blinking up at him like a doe, her face so sweet he wants to coo. “Are you disappointed? That it’s me?”

That makes Azriel frown. How could he be disappointed? She’s everything and more, anyone can see that. Even if he pushes aside the fact that she’s drop-dead gorgeous, she’s got a brain to match it. She’s quick and clever and sassy in a way that rivals even his own spunk. If anything, she should be the disappointed one.

“No.” he says, brows furrowing. “Y/N, sweetheart, you mean the world to me. How could I be disappointed?” He wants to catch all of the butterflies in his stomach and lock them away forever, because they're making him woozy. “Are- are you?”

“Am I?” her tone is confused, almost shocked. “Az- Az, I’ve been into you for, like, forever. I’m not disappointed. I could never be disappointed, not with you.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, blinking, suddenly coming to terms with the fact that this bond has, for lack of better wording, startled them. They’ve always prioritised everyone else over them, always considered others' needs and benefits above their own, but they’ve never had the chance to fully acknowledge themselves. Maybe that’s what made them so alike. Maybe that’s why the Mother paired them together, knowing that amidst the sarcastic comments and teasing touches, the sturdy roots of their relationship came from their unwavering trust and care for one another.

Azriel’s hand moves to Y/N’s clammy forehead, softly pushing the hair away from her face. Despite everything that’s happened in the last few days, she’s still her, and he’s still him. Nothing is ever going to change that.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers. She rolls her eyes. “I’ve got a raging fever, I’m drenched in my own sweat, I just threw up and you’re calling me beautiful?”

He laughs, oh, by the Cauldron, he laughs. “You could be a corpse and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“That’s necrophilia, Az. Pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“You’re hilarious, sweetheart.”

“Is that why you fell in love with me?”

“Okay, who’s saying I’m in love with you?”

“Me.” and she grins, nudging her nose against his. “Because I am not only hilarious, but also very observant.” He lets out a little hum in response, scarred fingers still twisting in her hair. Everything’s perfect, because they’re not. Their imperfections are intertwined, just like their souls, and the knowledge the other will always be there to love them is all they've ever wanted.

Azriel’s eyes flit down to her lips, and then he’s leaning in, and she’s doing the same, and-

She pulls away, wincing. “I puked about five minutes ago. I don’t think you want to kiss me right now.”

He rolls his eyes, tipping her chin up. “Y/N L/N, I have waited at least two centuries for the opportunity to kiss you. Don’t stop me now.” And he presses his lips to hers. It’s gentle, soft, sweet. Everything he feels around this girl.

“You’re gross.” She mumbles.

“That’s what love does to you.”

“And you’re a sap.” She grins. “I suppose you’re lucky I love you, even if you are going soft for me.”

“Shut up, sweetheart.”

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@topaz125 @starryhiraeth @nahminae @quiettuba @thecraziestcrayon @honeywithemoney @marvelsmylife @sunny1616 @lilah-asteria @emryb @i-am-infinite @st4r-girl-official

my loves ty for ur support! :)

#fluffy az does something to me #but angry az willing to murder for r is even better #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar

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jk97 · 1 year ago

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Unprofessional Attraction | ONE

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 13K ♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot ♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.

That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”

“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.

Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.

A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.

“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”

He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.

“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.

“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”

“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.

“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.

“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”

You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”

“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”

“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”

When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.

From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.

He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.

[Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]

When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.

You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.

“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.

He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.

“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.

“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”

Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.

Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”

Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.

“You ready?”

“Absolutely,” you puff out.

“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.

“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.

Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.

“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.

“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.

Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.

“I was just asking, Jesus.”

Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”

“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.

“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”

“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”

Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”

San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.

It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.

You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.

“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.

Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.

His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”

“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”

Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.

“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.

With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.

“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”

“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”

Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.

“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”

You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.

“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”

He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”

“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.

After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”

“Of course!”

When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.

On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.

“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.

“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”

“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.

“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”

The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–

“_____?”

You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.

“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”

“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”

“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.

Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.

“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”

“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”

Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”

You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”

“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.

“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”

Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”

Not tonight.

You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.

“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”

While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.

When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.

“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.

“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”

That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.

“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”

“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.

“We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”

Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.

But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”

That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”

To which he never declines, naturally.

Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.

“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”

A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”

He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.

“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”

He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in crimson as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.

“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.

“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.

You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.

“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.

“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.

“You don’t even know the price of it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”

“Yunho…”

“Don’t even give me that, ____.”

The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.

When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”

“Cheers.”

Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.

As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.

“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.

“I can get you an Uber if—”

“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”

That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.

Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.

Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.

“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.

While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.

“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.

He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”

“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”

Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he’s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.

Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.

Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—

He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.

Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.

“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”

Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.

“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.

He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”

“You’re fine, no worries.”

It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.

“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”

You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”

There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.

“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”

Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.

“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”

Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…

After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.

But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.

“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”

When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.

“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.

“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”

“Neither am I.”

At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.

“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.

“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.

“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”

Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”

In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.

“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”

Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.

You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”

Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.

“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.

You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.

“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”

Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.

It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.

It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.

It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.

“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.

“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.

The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.

“Take yours off too?”

Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.

“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.

Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.

His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.

“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.

“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.

“You know what I mean.”

Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”

Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.

“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.

He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.

“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”

Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.

He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.

“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”

Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.

The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.

“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”

When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.

“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.

“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”

“So fucking good.”

Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.

He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”

“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”

You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.

“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”

You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.

Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.

Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.

He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.

Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?

Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?

Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?

All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.

He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.

He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.

[Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]

Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.

Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.

[Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]

To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.

[Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]

He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.

[Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]

Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.

Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.

At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.

You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.

On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.

“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.

To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.

“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.

“Don’t.”

“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”

You employ a small pout to boot.

“And you think I believe that?”

“I think you should believe it.”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!

“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.

You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.

Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.

“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”

He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.

“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”

You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”

“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”

Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?

“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”

“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.

“A mistake?”

“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”

You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”

“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.

“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”

When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.

Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.

“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”

“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.

“Boo, why can I never know anything–”

“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”

“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.

Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.

A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.

“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”

“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”

“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”

“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”

Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”

You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.

“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.

You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.

“That was quick,” you giggle.

“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.

Fuck.

“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”

“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.

You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”

“Just give me five minutes, please.”

You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.

“Spit it out already, Yunho.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.

Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”

“Thought it was a mistake–”

“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”

“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”

There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.

“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”

You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:

“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”

“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”

“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”

“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”

You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.

♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr

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bitchy-craft · 30 days ago

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PICK A CARD: book quotes that describe your future relationship

Hello and welcome to this reading! Here I will book quotes that describe your future relationship. I hope you enjoy this reading!

masterpost > paid readings > patreon masterlist

The extended version of this reading can be found on my patreon, the link of which is here

Pile 1:

“There is no such thing as a perfect relationship, just two people trying their best.” – The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” – A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare

“We are not perfect, but we are perfect for each other.” – The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks

“The best thing about love is that it’s never too late to find it.” – One Day by David Nicholls

“Love isn’t perfect. It’s just love.” – The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

“There’s no such thing as perfect. That’s what makes us beautiful.” – The Sun and Her Flowers by Rupi Kaur

“No one is perfect, that’s why pencils have erasers.” – The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

“I wanted to tell her that there was no such thing as ‘the one,’ that love is an accident, and that sometimes you get lucky and it sticks.” – Looking for Alaska by John Green

“Maybe love is like luck. You have to go all the way to the end of the line before you realize it’s there.” – The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

“If you love someone, you don’t give up on them. You don’t run away from them.” – The Wedding Date by Jasmine Guillory

extended reading > paid readings

Pile 2:

“We are all a little broken. But last time I checked, broken crayons still color the same.” – The Best of Me by Nicholas Sparks

“It’s about time you stop waiting for the perfect moment, and make the moments perfect.” – The Unhoneymooners by Christina Lauren

“Love is not about possession. Love is about appreciation.” – The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

“Love is about finding someone you can’t live without, and being willing to compromise to make it work.” – Me Before You by Jojo Moyes

“Sometimes the hardest part isn’t letting go but learning to start over.” – The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen

“We loved with a love that was more than love.” – Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe

“Love is an endless act of forgiveness. Forgiveness is the key to action and freedom.” – The Long Hard Road to Freedom by Maya Angelou

“The truth is, you don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Life is a crazy ride, and nothing is guaranteed.” – The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks

“The beauty of love is that it’s not perfect, it’s a compromise. It’s the way two people fit together even when they don’t.” – The Light We Lost by Jill Santopolo

“We are each other’s shelter from the storm.” – Atonement by Ian McEwan

extended reading > paid readings

Pile 3:

“True love is not about perfection, it’s about loving someone through the imperfections.” – The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion

“True love is a risk. But it’s a risk worth taking, and no matter how difficult it gets, it’s always worth fighting for.” – The Lucky One by Nicholas Sparks

“The only thing that stands between you and true happiness is yourself.” – The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

“Real love is about finding someone who brings out the best in you, especially when the worst tries to surface.” – Anatomy of a Breakup by Lisa Jacobson

“Love is a battlefield, and every day is a new fight.” – The Hating Game by Sally Thorne

“True love is not always about grand gestures; sometimes it’s just about showing up when the world is falling apart.” – The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman

“True love doesn’t just happen, it’s created through perseverance and patience.” – The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

“We loved each other fiercely, but sometimes love isn’t enough.” – It Ends With Us by Colleen Hoover

“I believe that there is a person out there for everyone, but love’s true test is surviving the hardest of times together.” – The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

“I think you fall in love with the person who gives you a sense of safety, even when the world feels uncertain.” – The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

extended reading > paid readings

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twistedpink · 4 months ago

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Mc inserts x TWST characters pt.2 (OG post) (Pt.3)

(non-yuu pairings that fit into the plot of twst, if you like this then you might want to look at the first part!)

Savanclaw!Mc x Cater Diamond

Enemies to lovers with your favourite diva!! The two of you compete constantly through magicam and spelldrive, getting progressively pettier until the only solution is to kiss it out.. You’re trying to keep an ear out for your junior, and it just so happens Cater’s sniffing out your plan to go for gold in this year’s tournament. You might as well take the chance to mess with him! It’s so easy to love the face he makes when you give him the slip, and you’re totally making it your wallpaper when this is all over.

“Yo, Babe! If you’re in the same dorm, then you know Ruggie, yeah? We need to have a chat”

“Ohmigod you totally think all beastmen know each other, don’t you?? cancled :)”

Shroud!Mc x Vil Schoenheit

Ids attached himself to engineering and gaming pretty early, but your passion is fully unattainable. You’d clung onto pop idols and the art of stage makeup from an early age. Your longest running interest by far is Vil Schoenheit,, He rescued you from destructive habits and encouraged you to value self improvement. You’ve probably invested millions into his career (every thaumark sent anonymously, you’d die if he started to recognize your attached messages). Supporting Ortho in his SDC audition is your official reason to talk with him, and all the teasing from Idia will be so worth it when your Schoenheit debut palette gets signed! You’ve kept it in mint condition behind glass for years admiring it- and waiting for THE day.

“Mr. Schoenheit? My younger brother performed for you today, and uh, your signature please?”

“Normally I’d send both of you home for this. I’m sure you’re well aware of my paparazzi policy, However, I haven’t seen this particular relic in years! Just what have you done to preserve the quality?”

Pomefiore!Mc x Ruggie Bucchi

You’re #1 in the business of pissing off your parents- shopping copious amounts and then going to school across the country satiated you for awhile, but they’ve done something particularly revenge worthy now. The best scandal you can think of is getting a trashy boytoy to bring home for the break, but you’re not really into idiots.. Ruggie can be a very good actor given the right motivations, and he might even fool you into a real relationship before next semester.

“C’mon it’s not like I’ll need a script, sugar. I’m a natural, scout’s honor!”

“Either way, it won’t hurt to rehearse for convenience :/ Kiss me now so we don’t look stupid later.”

Scarabia!Mc x Floyd leech

God you hate that fish faced idiot >:( It’s bad enough that the housewarden’s moodswings guaranteed your holiday plans were all shot, but now Jamil’s getting hounded by the mafia! It’s your responsibility to get them off his back, but it’s not like you’re enjoying it. Somehow it’s even worse to watch Floyd when he’s playing dumb, and his emotional roller coaster keeps you walking on eggshells. The show must go on though, and if you’ve gotta play “wrestle until the biting stops” then you’ll do it :/

“Floyd, it’s dinner time, and I will tear you a new one if it means you’ll get moving.”

“PLEASEEEE tiger sharky just one more round :( I’ll even give your pen back!!”

Octavinelle!Mc x Kalim Al-Asim

You’re probably one of the most talkative of octavinelle students, and definitely a solid salesman. Kalim’s a prime target for resales and marketing practice, so naturally you join the pop music club. A year of “playing nice for the jackpot” leads you to lie awake at night, terrified that he’ll see through your facade and ditch you- it would cut off your best friendship, you’d be forced to leave the club! At some point you realize you’d stopped selling him things months ago, and your worst nightmare happened right under your nose. You fell in love.

“Hey, that solo was so inspiring! You’re really making progress!”

“It still isn’t on par with yours, though. Are you available to keep practicing after school? I’m sure Jamil would appreciate the break, and I would enjoy the company..”

Staff!Mc x Lilia Vanrouge

Of course your first job would come with some pet bat, it was too good to be true :( Full time at a bits and bobs shop near one of the best schools in the country WITH flexible hours? You must’ve been desperate to accept without reading about your babysitting in the footnote. He comes in everyday during your shift (regardless of the hours you take, it’s like he has a sixth sense), and has the audacity to exist in your space! It’s not like he even does anything to get banned!! He just stands there. Menacingly. You’re waiting for the day where he leaves convincing evidence that he’s there to traffic you or something- because if you didn’t know better you’d think he has a big, fat crush on you.

“Darling, how is the shop? I’ve taken care of those juvenile delinquents for you!”

“Taken care of? Whatever. Get back to class, kid.”

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akutasoda · 6 months ago

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“diamond tiara crushed in two, my heaven crashes down for you”

synopsis - you are a royal, they aren't. would it be such a crime for them to be someone more than a companion of yours?

includes - argenti, aventurine, boothill, sunday, reca

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, i have no clue what im doing, wc - 2.8k

a/n: ngl this only came about cause my fav artist dropped a new single... something else was inspired by that which idk if i want to work on that onrle rrr

argenti ★↷

↪argenti was once the commander of the knights that protected the region. well, he still was but now most of his time was spent beside you. as your very own personal knight.

↪it was agreed very widely that argenti was by far the best knight in the kingdom. so it was inevitable that he ended up in such a trusted position - and it was also safe to say that your safety was pretty much always guaranteed with him around.

↪naturally, he still held his title as the commander but spent most of his days by your side so normally he would put others in charge in his absence. although in honesty, argenti never minded.

↪argenti enjoyed his job as a knight, he liked helping people out and defending the kingdom he was proud to be part of. a part of him enjoyed the serenity of spending his days with you.

↪most of it tailoring to him following you around as you attended meetings and the occasional trips to the town. and even argenti had a bit more freedom as you always let him do what he wanted but even willingly, argenti would happily spend time with you.

– – –

you walked idly through the corridors, you had nothing to do as of late. bored out of your mind. your only real idea was to head out to the town and see if they had anything to satisfy your boredom, although to do so you thought it may be best to find argenti first.

you knew where to find him however. if you were going out you wanted him to accompany you, not just as your guard but as a companion - you didn't really need a guard in your opinion. but you quickly found the knight in the training grounds.

he was very dedicated to his training. it was always intriguing to you when you did catch him in action - in training or in a real life scenario. so you couldn't exactly help but take a seat nearby and watch as he trained.

you weren't trying to be creepy but it was interesting, and rather entrancing, so you watched. although you should've expected argenti to notice your presence as soon as you sat down. he huffed as he stopped swinging his ornate spear, stabilizing himself, he stopped and turned to you with a smile.

“is there something you need your highness?” argenti slowly walked closer to you and quickly noticed the flushed expression on your face at being caught.

you tried stammering out a response but quickly gave up and broke eye contact looking at the ground. argenti let out a small laugh, “if there's something you require of me, please do let me know”

eventually you managed to piece together a coherent sentence and explained how you wanted to go visit the town for a bit. argenti agreed, like he would ever not agree, and excused himself for a moment to get ready and don his armor.

argenti always loved when he got to accompany you anywhere. your presence was such a joy for him and a selfish part of him enjoyed knowing that he spent the most time with him - argenti knew you enjoyed his presence as well which always made his heart soar.

but he was merely your personal knight. he should be glad to be granted such a title, but when you take him by the hand and lead him to wherever you wanted with that smile on your face, he could convince himself that for a fleeting moment, you two were something more.

aventurine ★↷

↪a diplomatic representative of the stoneheart group who spent their time negotiating and delivering messages between various kingdoms. a neutral group who maintained positive relationships with all kingdoms to survive.

↪aventurine was always responsible for being sent to your kingdom, and so he would always make an appearance when your council met to discuss. a part of you was curious if he'd ever drop his position among the stonehearts to become a permanent member of your council.

↪he always had very valuable insights that always seemed to work towards bettering your kingdom as a whole rather than helping the relationship between the kingdom and the stonehearts. he also spent a decent amount of time rilling up your actual council members.

↪although, nowadays you noticed how he made more frequent visits to your kingdom, and specifically you. aventurine would occasionally come and find you just to drag you away from your duties and hang out - something you never actually minded, even if you should've..

– – –

aventurine walked through the lone halls of your residence, he found it almost laughable how easily the guards let him in, how much they trusted him. he could easily walk in with the wrong intentions and dismantle your kingdom from the inside out but you both knew he wouldn't. which was why he was here now.

bursting through your room's doors, you shot up from your paperwork before relaxing at the sight of the emissarie.

“hello to you too aventurine,” you briefly glanced over to your calendar “what are you doing here? seeing as we have no meetings…”

aventurine smiled as he sat himself on the corner of your desk “do i have to have a reason to see you?” he knew he didn't, he knew you'd always welcome his presence at any time.

“you know you don't want to be stuck here doing..” he looked at what was laid across your desk, making a vague shrugging motion “whatever that is, take a break! we can walk around for a bit!”

you knew you shouldn't listen to him, that he was a bad influence on you. but one look at your desk was enough to convince you that aventurine was right. you'd have even more work to do when you got back but who was going to tell you off? aventurine was definitely one of your best “advisors”.

he smiled when he watched you stand up and he followed suit, already talking about all the things that had happened since he last saw you (which was barely two days) and asking you about what you wanted to do.

suddenly your boring day filled with paperwork was actually going to be exciting, spent with someone you liked as more than one of your emissaries.

boothill ★↷

↪apart of a group of mercenaries known as the galaxy rangers. they take up whatever contract they agree with and pay the most of course. the “galaxy ranger” name is simply a convenient way of finding the best mercenaries in the regions - whether or not someone can get one to work for them is a different story.

↪boothill was once hired by a rivaling kingdom to bring down yours, he didn't exactly agree with his contractor but they did have rather deep pockets. that hesitation of his was what you used to save your kingdom. paying boothill more than what he had previously been offered.

↪and what better way to ensure your kingdom's safety than to constantly ensure boothill worked as a mercenary for your kingdom by paying him. it was a simple solution in your eyes and boothill wasn't going to complain.

↪although as time went on, boothill was seen less as a mercenary and more as a companion - seeing as you spent quite a bit of your free time talking with him and listening to his takes from traveling all over.

– – –

“so tell me again why i’m accompanying ya?” boothill poised as he watched you eye up some shop window displays

you hummed “because i gave argenti the day off for his hard work” turning to face him you continued, “and your nice company”

nice company huh? boothill would've never considered himself to be nice company for anyone but he wasn't going to argue your word. it wasn't entirely uncommon for you to drag him around the town when you were bored, always giving that same excuse or saying something along the lines of being blunt and just wanting to hang out.

boothill would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy this time with you. it was always peaceful, a nice respite from his daily activities - which admittedly became more calm themselves ever since you began paying him to be loyal to your kingdom.

even if you were to stop paying him, he reckoned that he would still never go against your kingdom. there was something about you that was enchanting to the mercenary, no wonder you were royalty. he could spend ages thinking about you, he had no clue why however.

boothill had no idea why he felt this way about you. you were just another stupid royal who was too big for their boots. and yet, he stuck around. he indulged in your conversations and requests, he genuinely enjoyed being around you and-

“say, why don't we stop for lunch on the way back?” your voice broke his chain of thought and that smile of yours practically rendered him entranced

“sure, your choice, your highness” and he reveled in your brightening smile that was caused by him, the one that made his knees weak and he couldn't care less about how you grabbed his hand and practically dragged him away.

sunday ★↷

↪the oh so prestigious high priest of the land. the one in charge of all the churches and so he had a spot on the royal council. not only as the main representative of the churches but also as an advisor.

↪he was a form of spokesperson for the people who confided their issues with him and some of his ideas had helped the kingdom greatly, so he definitely deserved a seat among your council

↪sunday was very reliable. he would always show up to meetings and always ensured that services within the church were planned and carried out to the nest they could be. a man devoted to fulfilling his role. although with how long you'd known him, he had a few flaws.

↪namely his “people problem”. not that he despised anyone but at times he could be quite uptight and rather condescending - namely when discussing with your other advisors which made for quite the trouble occasionally.

↪but you valued his advice and so he kept his position. although you also highly valued his companionship, something he would deny of but secretly indulge in your favoritism of him - like a bird preening in front of a mirror.

– – –

service had finished mere moments ago. sunday sighed and closed up his book as he kept an eye on the last couple stragglers exiting the sermon.

so he couldn't exactly miss the line figure that walked down the aisle to his position. in honesty, even if he did miss it then sunday would know it was you, after all you had developed the rather neglectful habit of visiting him after his services - neglectful as you were obviously shrugging away duties to be here.

his face resumed his stern look that he usually held before he addressed you “your highness, you know you mustn't be here”

but you both knew that even if he sounded annoyed he wasn't. you knew that he enjoyed your clear favoritism to the priest but he cared too much about appearances and positions to let it shine through, in your opinion.

“i don't think i do” you responded, sunday quickly picked up on that playful tone of yours, he knew what he was in for “would you mind enlightening me priest?”

oh aeons how he hated that dumb smile of yours. that stupidly pretty smile that made his heart skip a few beats. no, he couldn't let you break his act down so quickly, that would be embarrassing for him. so he collected himself and answered

“considering i enlightened you yesterday, i have no need to repeat. or is your memory that bad? if so i feel a trip to your healer is necessary then?” when he heard you grumble, he knew he'd managed to save his facade.

this wasn't exactly the first, or even the last, time that you slinked away to spend time with him when he had nothing going on. but you were the monarch. you had duties to attend to and so despite his true wishes of wanting this time with you, he always urged you to go back to your duties.

“fine then” you huffed “i'll be seeing you tomorrow then”

turning on your heel, you began leaving with a stumped sunday who was wracking his brain for any idea of what you meant behind you. but he couldn't think, so he had to ask

“what's tomorrow?” sunday hadn't got anything planned with you tomorrow, yes he had other things but nothing that you should've been aware of

you stopped in your tracks and turned around, feigning shock and hurt, you gasped “don't tell me you forgot! the meeting tomorrow?”

sunday paused, “but that's the day after, no? we agreed so at the last meet”

as soon as that smile of yours widened, it all clicked together in his head “oh it is? my.. well i already have a cleared schedule for that time.. wouldn't want to waste it?”

turning around again you continued, “so ill be seeing you at noon then” before walking away once more

sunday stood in confusion for a moment and before realizing fully and blurting out “you-” but you were already out of earshot, also missing the smile that crept onto his face.

reca ★↷

↪an infamous playwright who recently had taken residence in your kingdom. his plays were known far and wide by everyone, highly praised and honored. people always eagerly awaited even a whisper of what his new creation was.

↪and so naturally, you had become a patron of his. always sponsoring his plays as you were quite the fan yourself. whenever you saw that he had a new play that was being performed, you immediately cleared your schedule for that time and got your ticket - they were always in high demand.

↪reca was faltered that royalty such as yourself was so deeply invested in his writings and he greatly appreciated the sponsorship, it enabled his plays to reach greater heights. and so it was only natural that he started pandering some of his plays to you.

↪more based around subjects that he learnt you loved, your favorite troupes, anything you deemed intriguing and so on. of course, they all came out as hit plays but he knew they were slightly more special than just his average play.

– – –

reca stood from the sideline, hidden behind a deep maroon curtain, as his latest play came to an end. he watched as the actors he so desperately searched for took a bow as gifts were showered upon them for his characters he created for them.

but nowadays, he cared less about audience validation and more about a specific person - yes he still valued the opinion of anyone that saw his plays as that's what kept him going mostly but this play was special. he spent ages driving himself into sleep deprivation and stress trying to perfect it.

all because he tailored it for you.

his number one, and favorite, patron. he'd seen you take your seat and eagerly awaited your critique for his piece. reca wouldn't mind if you didn't pick up on the hints that it was tailored towards you, just as long as you enjoyed it. and his question was soon answered.

reca's ears perked up when he heard your voice call out to him. you shouldn't be backstage, but nobody would stop you. a confident smirk graced his face when you immediately starting rambling about specifics of his play, what you liked the most, how well it flowed etc etc.

he took your praise in strides, even more so when you poised him a question.

“oh! mr reca, you must tell me how you got inspiration for the main character!” you seemed so happy and so rene's smirked widened

“well if you must know your highness, it was about a special patron of mine” reca watched as your face twisted into something akin to confusion as you tried to figure out what that meant.

he nearly laughed when your expression portrayed a more shocked and embarrassed tone, you tried stammering out a sentence “so what about their lover-”

“well a writer must take some creative liberty, no? and one's subconscious might influence those decisions” he held back a laugh as your face flushed.

“your a tease mr reca” you huffed. and he only smiled back as you too let a smile creep onto your face.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

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