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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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nothorses · 1 year ago

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Let's Talk About Baeddels.

An (updated) retrospective on Tumblr's movement to make gender essentialism trans-friendly.

This post contains excepts from a longer article on Medium. If you have the time, please read the full article! I also request that you link the longer article if you use this as a source.

All links have been updated with archived versions of posts that have since been deleted (and otherwise might be deleted or lost sometime in the future). I have revised some sections, and included more context and examples, in order to clarify and strengthen arguments.

Disclaimer

Transmisogyny is real, and requires much more acknowledgement than it currently receives. The trans community is very much capable of transmisogyny, and often does enact or enable it; likewise, trans people also often enact and enable transphobia against other parts of the trans community. Trans women suffer at least as much as the rest of us, and trans women — as a class — are not privileged, and do not hold the power to oppress anyone else.

If you take only one thing away from this post, take this:

Trans people all need to work on being better allies to each other. None of us can gain anything without the rest of us.

Establishing an Ideology

The first post on Baeddelism was by Tumblr user @unobject, on October 2nd, 2013:

The post was quickly liked by @lezzyharpy, also one of the first to call themselves “Baeddels”.

This post first provided the name and defining ideology of the Baeddel movement. The implication of the post was, essentially, that because the root of the word “bad” was “baeddel”, and because “baeddel” referred to intersex people and “womanish men”, this old English slur was proof that transmisogyny was the worst form of bigotry; and even, perhaps, the root of all bigotry. (It’s worth noting that this interpretation of the etymology has been problematized.)

While @unobject was the first person to make this connection, @autogynephile (“Eve”) eventually became, in essence, the figurehead of the movement. Of the other Baeddels, some of them were explicitly aware and supportive of the ideology behind Baeddelism, some of them were young or newly-out trans women seduced by the personalities involved, and some of them were tangential enough to the movement that their understanding of it was wholly different from the understanding those at the core of the movement held and promoted. Baeddelism was a sort of trend, for a time, and many participants wore the name without entirely knowing what it meant.

It’s important to acknowledge that as much as there were dedicated members of Baeddelism, and as much as there was a unified ideology behind it, there were also individual Baeddels who did not understand — let alone support — the ideology.

The Ideology

Baeddels essentially built upon the foundation of @monetizeyourcat’s ideology that had been gaining traction on Tumblr in the years prior, with some additions that ultimately defined their movement:

Transmisogyny is the form of oppression from which all (or most) other forms of oppression stem.

Privilege is granted on the basis of assigned sex. (“AFAB” or “Assigned Female at Birth” vs. “AMAB” or “Assigned Male at Birth”)

These fundamentals of Baeddelism were essentially a rebranded form of Radical Feminism. In particular, they drew from the Radical Feminist idea that misogyny was the “primary” form of oppression; that which all other oppression stemmed from. Baeddels only tweaked this idea to replace “misogyny” with “transmisogyny”, which led to the rest of the conclusions Baeddels drew:

There is no “transphobia”

All “transphobia” stems from transmisogyny first, and transphobia as it impacts non-trans-women (or, sometimes, non-transfeminine people) is incidental.

There is no “Trans”

If “transphobia” isn’t real, what else is left of the transgender identity?

While this is by no means the dominant understanding of transgender identity or community, the equivocation of oppression to identity is, in many ways, core to Baeddel ideology (and we see the lasting impact of this in still-widely-used “TME/TMA” termingology). By this logic, if transphobia doesn’t exist, neither does trans identity or trans community (though they obviously believed that transmisogyny, and subsequently trans women, do). Therefore, there are no “trans men”, and belief in the existence of “nonbinary people” is highly contingent on whether an individual believes in the oppression of nonbinary people.

“AFAB Privilege”

The idea that within the queer and/or trans community, people who were AFAB/CAFAB (Assigned Female At Birth) receive unique privilege and positions of power that people who were AMAB/CAMAB (Assigned Male at Birth, a counterpart to “AFAB” and “CAFAB”) do not.

Trans Lesbian Separatism

… was what the movement was ultimately defined by, as the logical conclusion of their other beliefs (much like Lesbian Separatism was the logical conclusion of Radical Feminist beliefs).

Baeddels believed that only trans women can understand, or be truly safe for, other trans women; therefore, contact with anyone who was not a trans woman was deemed “dangerous” and highly discouraged.

Trans Men

… also played an important role in Baeddel ideology, and the resulting treatment of trans men is what is often remembered today. Baeddels generally believed the following, either explicitly or implictly:

Trans men are not oppressed, or experience so little oppression that it hardly matters.

Trans men do not experience misogyny, even prior to transition.

Trans men have access to male privilege, or trans men have an easier time passing, and frequently go “stealth”; thus benefiting from male privilege as well as cis privilege.

Trans men are often (or always) misogynistic and transmisogynistic, and are not held accountable for this.

Trans men oppress cis women.

Trans women enacting violence on trans men is “punching up” at oppressors, and therefore not only permitted, but encouraged.

Trans men are inherently violent, or become aggressive and violent when they go on testosterone HRT (Hormone Replacement Therapy)

The impact of this ideology is often discussed among transmasculine people because of the depth of harm it caused, directly and indirectly — and it was very much intended to. Harm caused to transmascs was not only permitted or excused, it was often actively celebrated.

Nonbinary People

… are often overlooked when summarizing Baeddelism, but Baeddels did have plenty to say about them. Baeddel ideology relied on the idea that privilege was granted on the bases of assigned sex, and nonbinary people’s genders were thus treated as irrelevent; they essentially did not believe nonbinary people truly existed.

CAFAB nonbinary people are either trans men attempting to invade women’s spaces, or cis women pretending to be trans.

CAMAB nonbinary people are actually just trans women who haven’t accepted it yet. They must transition, or they are transmisogynistic.

Intersex People

Intersex experiences, and intersex history, were often co-opted and erased by Baeddelism. This was often more a byproduct of their beliefs than an overtly-stated idea, but most notably, the term “Baeddel” itself is likely more applicable- if not exclusively applicable- to intersex people, rather than trans women. Making their reclamation of it as a “transmisogynistic slur”, or their claim that the word’s existence means that “transmisogyny is the root of all oppression”, incredibly ignorant- if not actively harmful misinformation.

Notably, Baeddels also believed that intersex people- being “more androgynous” (a harmful misonception)- were able to pass more easily as the opposite assigned sex, and that intersex people (even within transfemme spaces) had “intersex privilege”. Some even believed, and openly claimed, that intersex people were “hermaphroditic”; a slur against intersex people, and typically implying that the individual has both sets of reproductive systems simultaneously.

Trans Women

… did not receive universally positive treatment, either. Baeddelism was very much a cult-like group built around the firmly-held conviction that they were absolutely correct, and that anyone who disagreed with them was The Enemy. Trans women who disagreed with them were generally seen as brainwashed and self-hating, and trans women who did agree with them were expected to subjugate themselves to the ringleaders of the movement.

Within Baeddel circles, trans women were most frequently victimized by the abusers allowed to run rampant because “trans women do not, and cannot, harm anyone else.” — including, apparently, each other.

“They were also bad shitty abusive people in general. “… a bunch of them passed around a pile of smear campaigns and false rumors about virtually any trans woman that they had a even the slightest animosity for. Including the victim of the kinkster rapist. They’ve done other fucked stuff, like chased two twoc off this site for trying to make a zine, but yeah. That’s like, just some of it. I’m not up for going over the messy details of the whole shitparade. “Full disclosure, I made a lot of excuses for these sacks of crap, even while they were out there spreading false crap about me […] I wasn’t aware of the worst shit they were doing until much much later.” - @punlich

Inside the Movement

Though individual Baeddels often existed in vastly different social circles from each other- particularly offline- those who lived through the movement highlight commonalities in their experiences.

One interviewee recounts the manipulation present in their initial involvement with the movement:

“It came to me at a point where I was very quick to weaponize anything anyone told me about their experiences, because I was always a fighter. I’ve been an activist for a long time, you know, and when these trans women would come to me with their experiences I would believe them. I wanted to. But the way they acted didn’t add up when compared to what they were saying. I felt really lonely there, and stupid all the time. I felt like I was being a bad trans person.” […] “Online they were more willing to say things that were, for lack of a better word, stupid. They would say things that lacked any kind of logical sense. But in person, they would go into this kind of toxic femininity- this weaponization of weakness. And I think that’s because online they were often in these echochambers, but in person they had to rely on much more subtle manipulation.” - Vera

It seems at points that the environment created within this movement- and the social circles that composed it- was almost cult-like in nature and in need for control.

“It was very isolating. I didn’t see my friends for a while, I was kind of just living with them, cooking and cleaning for them, starving myself, and slowly growing crazy. I was just being consumed by this weird academia and theory that had no basis, because everything was online and Tumblr-based.” - Vera

Perhaps most chilling, however, are the patterns in their attitudes toward sexual assault. One interviewer recounts being subject to sexual assault, and upon posting about their experience to a Facebook group, being met with hostility from Baeddels present in the group- who quickly used their social influence to have them banned from some of their only support systems at the time.

“I ended up with pretty much no one to talk to about the experience at a time when I was already really, really struggling, and it’s one of several factors that led to me dropping out. “The Baeddel who got me banned also messaged me directly at some point during all of this, and I tried to get her to understand the pain she was causing me. She basically laughed it offand said it was my fault. She seemed to find a lot of joy in how much it hurt me, and blocked me soon after.” - Anonymous

Another recounts sexual consent violations from a friend-turned-Baeddel:

“[My ex-friend] had previously been fetish-mining me for her mommy kink. I was freshly estranged from my own mum, and she stepped in to be like, “I’m your new mum now,” and would pester me to call her “mum” in Welsh- as at that point she was going by a Welsh name. I played along, but it transpired that she was basically using that to get off, and she had a thing for infantilising transmascs and being this mum/mom figure.” - Luke

And yet another interviewee discusses verbal sexual harassment during interactions with another Baeddel:

“I had one [Baeddel] directly tell me that I’m beneath her as a trans man, and that I should “Shut my smelly cooch up” and only use my voice to uplift trans women. I was a minor at the time. “She then sicced her followers on me, and they bombarded me with messages telling me I’d “never be a real man”, that I needed to “sit on the side and allow them to have the spotlight”, and even telling me to kill myself- because I was inherently toxic to them. I was 16 years old, pre everything, and I couldn’t even pass at the time. They didn’t seem to care that I was a minor, or a newly hatched egg.” - Anonymous

While Baeddel ideology itself does not explicitly condone or excuse sexual assault, it’s striking how common these stories are; especially considering how small in numbers actual Baeddels were.

It was, in fact, this exact problem that would eventually cause the movement to dissolve.

The Downfall of Baeddelism

Sometime between the group’s formation in 2013 and their downfall near the end of 2014, @autogynephile (also “Eve”), the defacto “ringleader” of the Baeddel movement, began what Baeddels referred to as a “transbian safehouse”.

This was apparently intended as a place for unhoused trans woman lesbians and trans women who, in general, had sworn off contact with men; the ultimate goal of the lesbian separatist ideology at the core of the Baeddel movement. It was thus also referred to as a “commune” by some, and as a “cult” by others.

One occupant of the “safehouse”- Elle- later posted to Tumblr that they had been raped by Eve during their stay, and detailed their experiences.

The Baeddels, rather than believing the victim and ousting the rapist from their movement, chose to close ranks around Eve instead.

Various reasons were given for this:

The victim must be lying

The victim- and anyone who believed them- was simply transmisogynistic.

Anyone who disagrees with the Baeddels is an Enemy Of The Movement, a “carceral thinker”, and a danger to trans women as a whole.

Trans women are incapable of sexually abusing anyone.

“Standing with Eve” was the ultimate sign of loyalty to the movement, and thus a mark of pride and honor.

It was okay to keep being a Baeddel no matter what, because Rape Accusations Should Be A Personal Matter.

(You can read more about Eve’s own denial of these events here and here.)

Years later, even people involved in the initial group have spoken out against the movement and actions of those involved:

“I was in ~the Baeddels~ for years and like… we straight up did horrible shit. “We harassed anyone that disagreed for any reason, our politics were terrible, our isolationism made an environmental ripe for abuse that I have firsthand experience of, there is nothing in that group worth salvaging or defending. “Also acting like people are just bringing this up out of the blue is silly like… it’s being brought up because people are still trying to defend the shit we did instead of fucking recognizing that it was wrong. “Creating this myth that hate on the Baeddels is just a way of keeping trans women in line is a tacit defense of the horrid shit we did.” - @lezzyharpy

“like I’m sorry but I served my time in shitty awful Baeddel group in early mid 2012s and it fucking sucked ass.” “… Like it’s straight up cult-like the way you build this self-reinforcing network wherein ayone on the outside looking in with any criticism is unsafe, not to be trusted, only there to hurt trans women, and the only people you can trust is this self-selected group of trans women.” - @lezzyharpy

Why It Matters, and Why Baeddelism Never Really Fell

Baeddelism itself has seen multiple attempts at resurgences by various individuals, including documented experiences with self-proclaimed Baeddels as recently as 2018- well after the movement first “fell” in 2014.

Most proponents of “Baeddelism 2.0”, a revival of the original movement, argue that the abuse that occurred within the original movement was either completely fabricated by detractors (sound familiar?) or, at minimum, not actually inherent to the ideology.

And, of course, there are some original Baeddels still active on Tumblr today.

Baeddelism never actually went away.

“Baeddelism” was only one name for a set of beliefs that existed long before the specific term did, and hasn’t gone anywhere since the original Baeddel movement died down.

What the Baeddels did was put a name to the ideology @monetizeyourcat was cultivating before them, and what Cat did was popularize, centralize, and justify a way of thinking that had existed before she ever made her blog.

This ideology has since been referred to, loosely, as “TIRF-ism”: Trans-Inclusive Radical Feminism.

It is rare that anyone actually refers to themselves as a “TIRF”, and there is no real centralized TIRF movement; rather, a loose collection of radical feminist beliefs circulates various transgender spaces. The validity of these beliefs is generally taken for granted: of course (trans) women are The Most Oppressed People; of course (trans) women are Inherently and Unequivocally Victims In All Situations; of course (trans) men are Inherently Oppressors; of course (trans) men are Dangerous and Evil… and so on.

Like Radical Feminism, and subsequently Trans-Exlcusive Radical Feminism (TERF-ism), those ideas are fundamentally dangerous.

The defining tenants of radical feminism are that misogyny is the root of all oppression, and that rather than misogyny being an issue of power and control on a society-wide level, it is instead, or also, a matter of oppression and privilege on an individual level: men are always oppressors, and women are always victims.

These beliefs fundamentally exclude and erase the experiences of other marginalized people.

Namely, people of color and indigenous people, who’s experiences with and concepts of gender do not fall within the strict and rigid lines that white, western, colonialist people’s do.

Radical feminism is not a redeemable ideology. It cannot be reshaped into something good. It is fundamentally broken, and the movements born from it- lesbian separatism, political lesbianism, TERF-ism, TIRF-ism, and Baeddelism- are proof enough of that. They each promote only surface-level variations of what is fundamentally cult-like thinking: only the in-group can be victimized. Only the in-group is safe; the out-group is inherently and universally dangerous. Only the in-group understands you. All members of the in-group are, fundamentally, incapable of abuse.

We cannot allow these ideas to be perpetuated within or without the trans community.

Learn the Signs & Prevent Harm

Here’s what we can do to prevent this from happening again:

Learn what Baeddel ideology and TIRFism look like, even detached from the name.

Learn what radical feminism looks like, even detached from the name. Even from people who claim to oppose radical feminism.

Act on dogwhistles. Call them what they are.

Do not allow people to downplay the harm all forms of Radical Feminism have caused. Remind each other that Radical Feminism is not a redeemable ideology, and seek out other branches of feminism instead.

Remember the harm that has been caused. Remember that it will be caused again if these things are allowed to go unchecked.

Listen to and uplift marginalized people. Allow them to speak to their own experiences, identify their own needs, and name their own oppression.

Remember who the real oppressors are, and do not pit marginalized people against each other. The people perpetuating and benefiting from transphobia are cis people- and more specifically, cis people in power.

Build solidarity with other marginalized people. One group of trans people cannot gain liberation without liberating all trans people, and one group of trans people cannot be targeted without the rest of us suffering as well.

Remember that there is no group or identity incapable of enacting abuse, violence, harassment, or other harm against another. Victimhood should not be determined based solely on an individual’s identity.

Remember that there are no acceptable targets for violence, cruelty, harassment, and abuse.

For more context and a list of red flags, read the rest of the article here:

#baeddelism #baeddel #baeddels #transgender #transunity #transmasc #transandrophobia #transfem #nonbinary #non bianry #transphobia

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logansdoll · 6 months ago

Text

pep talk

part two of "contingency"

CW: fluffy fluff, suggestive, profanity, takes place after X2 (Jean survives), the girls are so kind to you, you have to adjust to modern life, angst if you squint, etc.

"No way!" you exclaimed, eyes wide as you grabbed the remote, completely taken aback as you flicked through station after station.

Rogue nodded, grabbing another wildflower growing out your palm and tucking it in your hair, slightly amused by your surprise.

"You guys have so many channels! How is that possible?"

"Science," Kitty shrugged. "We have a whole bunch of new technology now."

"Wait 'til we show you what a flip-phone is..." Jubilee smirked, tossing some popcorn into her mouth.

"A flip-phone?" you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"That's somethin' we can tackle t'morrow," Rogue assured, carefully placing another peony in another section.

After being rescued from Alkali Lake, and getting a quick check-up from Jean, the students were more than eager to welcome you into the mansion.

And because of your obvious gap in knowledge in anything after 1988, the older girls took it upon themselves to educate you.

Of course, Ororo made sure you had at least a week to get your bearings about yourself before releasing the hounds.

"Wait, so Tom Selleck doesn't count as hot now? And Stallone isn't in all the action movies anymore?" you asked, skimming through some of the magazines Jubilee managed to grab out her closet.

"Who?" Kitty raised a brow.

"Eighties hunks," Jubilee clarified before turning to you. "And they've moved aside to make way for the hotties of the 21st century. Like Johnny Depp."

"Please," Rogue scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Johnny Depp is not hot."

"Tell that to People," Kitty grinned, holding up a tabloid that read SEXIEST MAN ALIVE in bold letters right above Depp's head-shot.

"He's not too bad," you nodded, getting a good look at his face.

'He's got nothing on Jimmy...'

"See," Jubilee smirked, crossing her arms in triumph. "If he's not a modern-day knock-out then who is?"

"Brad Pitt," Rogue answered, matter-of-factly.

"I knew you were gonna say that!"

"You watched Fight Club with Bobby, didn't you?" Kitty teased.

"Shut up!"

"Fight Club?" you turned to Kitty for explanation.

"It's a movie about guys fighting each other and trying to bring down capitalist society."

"And Brad Pitt getting all shirtless and sweaty," Jubilee cheekily whispered, earning a pillow to the face. "Hey!"

"There," Rogue smiled, placing the finishing touch before giving your shoulder a soft pat. "All done."

Carefully, you stood up, walking over to the full length mirror near the closet and smiling brightly at what you saw.

Your hair was adorned with all different flavors of bloom, the vibrant colors only enhancing your natural beauty.

"I love it," you smiled, marveling her even placement.

"Ugh. I'd kill Kitty to look like that," Jubilee slumped, resting her cheek in her palm.

"Sitting right here, dude," Kitty sighed.

"I can do you next, if you like," Rogue offered.

"Here," you nodded, sprouting a bouquet of wildflowers out one of their potted plants before sliding on your slippers. "You girls can keep going. I think I'm gonna go on a walk."

"Cool," Jubilee nodded, watching you make your way to the door. "If we don't see you again then good night~"

You paid the odd inflection no mind, waving goodbye before taking your leave, shutting the door behind yourself.

And once the coast was clear, Jubilee smirked, turning to the others with a knowing look.

"I think we all know who she's going to go see, right?"

"Oh, totally."

"Absolutely."

So preoccupied with Jubilee, you failed to remember just how drafty the mansion got at night, cursing yourself for forgetting your sweater in the room.

"I hate the cold..." you grumbled, hugging yourself tight.

Walking through the hall, you could hear the rustling of students on the other sides of the doors.

Some were debriefing about the events of the day, some were sleeping.

Others talking about the Alkali Lake incident.

Your face fell at the reminder.

James had told you countless times that what happened wasn't your fault, but you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt.

When you were cornered by Stryker's mutant-hunting task force, you thought you could fight them back, but you couldn't even take down one.

Granted, they were highly trained professionals, and you'd never used your mutation to fight before...

But that was no excuse.

What did that leave you as?

A) A helpless damsel, who needed her prince to bail her out of a pinch?

Or B) A stupid girl who let herself get put on ice because she wasn't strong enough to fight back?

C) All of the above.

"Whoa. You think any harder and you'll have steam comin' outta your ears," Logan noted, somehow in front of you.

"Shit!" you exclaimed, eyes wide as you instinct took over, punching something that felt like a brick wall.

'Where did he come from?!'

He grunted, holding his side, "You hit... hard."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," you winced, guiltily, as you moved closer to inspect it, carefully moving his hand. "It was just so dark and you scared the hell outta me."

You lifted his tank top, trying your best to check for a forming bruise in the dim light.

But there was nothing there, his healing factor kicking in much faster than you expected.

"Was thinking of about telling you a joke about how much you take my breath away, but I think you're a little preoccupied at the moment," he looked down at you, a grin spreading across his lips at your staring.

You scoffed, cheeks burning as you pulled his shirt down.

"Couldn't sleep?" you asked, quickly switching the subject, tightening your arms around yourself.

Logan smiled, your words fading into the background as he took the time to get a good look at you.

And fuck... a look you where.

You exchanged your low-rise jeans and long-sleeve (courtesy of Ororo) for a tank top and shorts, your curves now on display quite nicely.

"Nope," he shook his head, somehow making the motion sexy. "You?"

You sighed, commending yourself for making it this far—you were this close to pouncing on him.

"I just need some air, so I'm going on a walk. And speaking of..." you continued on, stepping around the large man to continue your stroll.

It caught him by surprise, but he quickly turned around, catching up to and getting in front of you.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey," he halted, brows furrowed in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," you assured, poorly. "Just trying to get past."

"Nuh uh. Don't do that," he shook his head. "Don't downplay this. Somethin's wrong. I can see it all over your face."

'Shit.'

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping at being caught.

"I can't stand you, y'know that?"

"Start talking."

"Have I ever told you how good you look in blue jeans?"

"(y/n)."

"Alright."

You exhaled, steeling your nerves in case things went awry.

"Look... Jimmy..." you started, choppily, taking his hand in yours. "Fifteen years is a long time... too long for some people."

You cursed yourself as you could already feel a lump forming in your throat.

You hadn't even started yet.

"To me, it feels like yesterday we were at our place in the Rockies, making dinner together and talking about our day, renting shitty movies and falling asleep on the couch together."

The memories flowed over you like a calm tide, a smile stretching onto your lips as you recalled pretending to fall asleep so he'd carry you to bed.

But it wasn't long before those waters dried up, leaving nothing but cracked, jagged sand underneath.

"But to you, it was a lifetime ago. And a person can... move on... given the right conditions."

"What're you saying?" he asked, firmly.

"I'm saying that it's okay if you've moved on from me, James," you blurted, your voice having a slight crack.

It hurt even more to say it out loud.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, even more confused, as his hands came around to hold you.

"You've spent the better half of fifteen years unaware that I even existed. And now that I've popped back into your life, I don't want you to feel obligated to love me because of something that happened in the past... I couldn't do that to you. Especially if you have feelings for someone else."

"And who else could I possibly I have feelings for?" he asked, sarastically.

"Jean," you stated, flatly. "I see the way she looks at you. She may be with Scott, but that's the look of a woman who's willing to test the waters. And I don't want to get in the way if that's something you want to pursue."

Amused, and honestly speechless, Logan could do nothing but laugh, slightly offended that you thought of him as that type of man.

"What's so funny?" you asked softly, eyes saddening as you watched him, quite hurt that he was laughing.

He cracked a grin, cupping your cheek in his hand.

"Baby, you're talkin' about me gettin' with another woman as you stand here, wrapped in my arms, and about to come back to bed with me."

Huh?

His thumb caressed your cheek as he pulled you in closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"(y/n), you are my wife, you hear me? My wife," he spoke sincerely, eyes never leaving you for a moment. "My memories might've been taken before, but they're all back now. And I remember every goddamn detail about you, about us, and about our life before all this bullshit."

You were too stunned to speak.

You knew James could get serious, but you never knew he could get serious.

It was doing some things to you.

"I don't want no one else because, to me, there is no one else. And the quicker you get that through your head, the quicker we can get back to bed 'cause it is fuckin' freezin' out here."

You snickered, both tickled and appalled by his horribly blunt speech.

"That was the worst pep talk I've ever had," you chuckled, shaking your head as you cupped his cheek in your hand.

"Not my strong suit," he finished with a smirk.

But that was all he needed before he roughly kissed you, pulling you in by the nape of your neck.

You kissed back just as passionate, sliding your hands down to his chest as he leaned in, getting the better angle on you.

One of his hands dropped to grab your thigh, hiking it up and pulling you flush against him in an attempt to keep you as close as possible.

But, quickly, you both separated, panting, abuzz with excitement as you rested against each other.

"Bed. Now," he growled in your ear, suddenly hoisting you up and tossing you over his shoulder.

"Jimmy!" you quietly squealed, your face burning with embarrassment as he landed a loud slap on your ass.

'God, I hope the kids are asleep...'

taglist !!

@catiwinky @seamlessepiphany @vinaluvsu @kellyxo1 @amandarobertsboyce @shakysif @captainloki1 @qveendiorsworld @sarahskywalker-amidala @mei-simp @oatmilkriver @br3nt-12 @bimboshaggy @lightsgore @edszn @couturewinx @sunroxic @notanotheroldman @bontensbabygirl @buckleysg1rl @marvelgirlie-4 @eljaynosine-triphosphate

#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

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moonselune · 2 months ago

Text

🎄A Very BG3 Gentlemen Christmas🎄

Gale:

The cozy warmth of the study was offset by the faint chill of winter creeping through the frosted windows. The room was alight with the soft glow of a roaring fire, the scent of pine from the nearby Christmas tree mingling with the faint aroma of mulled wine. You stood in the middle of it all, wrapped—quite literally—in crimson ribbons that you had artfully tied around yourself, each bow a playful promise. This was your Christmas gift to Gale, and you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

Unfortunately, your plan had hit a slight snag.

Gale was seated in his favorite armchair, his nose buried in the ancient tome you had painstakingly tracked down and gifted him earlier that day. The way his eyes lit up when he unwrapped it had been magical in its own way, but now, hours later, the book had fully consumed him. He hadn’t even noticed your grand entrance.

You cleared your throat. “Gale.”

“Mm?” he hummed absently, his finger tracing a line of text. “Fascinating… Did you know the original binding techniques of this era often involved enchanted thread? Remarkable craftsmanship.”

You took a step closer, deliberately letting the bows on the ribbons sway as you leaned against the desk. “That’s wonderful, Gale, but I have… another gift for you.”

“Another gift?” His head tilted slightly, but his eyes remained glued to the page. “You’ve already outdone yourself, my love. Truly, this is the best Christmas in years.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“This one is… special,” you said, your voice laced with suggestion.

“Special, you say?” he murmured, finally glancing up for a fleeting moment. His gaze brushed over you but didn’t linger, his focus drawn back to the book. “I can’t imagine what could top this, but I’m intrigued.”

You were starting to lose patience. With a sigh, you circled behind him and rested your hands on his shoulders, leaning close.

“Gale,” you said, your voice low and insistent. “Look. At. Me.”

“In just a moment,” he replied, oblivious. “I’m at a crucial section on the incantations of—"

Enough was enough. You stepped in front of him, bent slightly, and cupped his jaw with both hands, tilting his face upward.

“Gale Dekarios,” you said firmly. “Look at me.”

And then it happened. His eyes finally focused on you, and the book slipped from his hands, landing on the floor with a dull thud. His expression was priceless—a mixture of shock, wonder, and sheer disbelief as he took in the sight of you, wrapped in ribbons and glowing with a mischievous smile.

“You’re… you’re…” Gale stammered, his voice catching as he gestured helplessly at you. “You’re wearing ribbons?”

“Only ribbons,” you clarified with a playful tilt of your head.

His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he reached up to gently touch one of the bows on your shoulder. “This… this is… I mean, you…”

“You’re welcome,” you teased, stepping closer until his hands instinctively came to rest on your bare waist.

Gale exhaled a shaky laugh, his amazement giving way to warmth. “You are the most enchanting, most extraordinary gift I could ever hope for.”

“Better than the book?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Far better than the book,” he said, his voice soft as his hands slid around to pull you into his lap. “Though I may need to thank you for both… at length.”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him, and for once, the ancient tome lay forgotten as Gale’s full attention was exactly where it belonged—on you.

Astarion:

The room was filled with a cloud of warm steam, the scent of pine, cloves, and orange peels lingering in the air from the simmering pot of mulled wine you’d prepared earlier. Astarion reclined in the large copper bathtub, the water rippling as he shifted dramatically, his arms flung over the sides as though recovering from some great ordeal. His wet silver curls clung to his forehead, and his crimson eyes fixed on you with an exaggerated pout.

“I can’t believe you,” he drawled, his voice a mixture of mockery and genuine indignation. “How could you do this to me, your own lover? It was ruthless. Merciless. Positively inhumane.”

You stifled a giggle, your hand dipping into the water to scoop some of it and gently pour it over his hair.

“I didn’t realize you were so delicate, Astarion,” you teased, fingers working a lather of soap into his damp locks. “It was just a snowball fight.”

“‘Just a snowball fight’?” He turned his head slightly, though the luxurious massage you were giving his scalp quickly dissuaded him from moving too much. “You ambushed me. I didn’t even see that last one coming! And you—I saw you laughing! Laughing at my suffering!”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh again as you recalled the memory. The way he’d flailed when your expertly thrown snowball had hit him square in the chest was nothing short of theatrical.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” you lied, poorly, as another giggle escaped. “It was just… you looked so surprised.”

“Oh, is that all?” he huffed, his eyes closing as your fingers continued to knead into his scalp, the tension in his posture melting away despite his indignation. “I suppose it’s funny when the vampire freezes to death.”

“You’re not freezing to death,” you pointed out, rinsing the soap out of his hair with a gentle stream of water. “You’re in a hot bath now, aren’t you? Being pampered no less.”

“It’s the very least you could do after your assault,” he countered, though his tone was softening with each stroke of your fingers. He opened one eye to peer at you. “I’m still wet. And cold. And utterly traumatized.”

“Utterly traumatized,” you repeated with mock seriousness, leaning over to grab the goblet of blood you’d set on the edge of the tub for him. “Here. Maybe this will help with your recovery.”

He sat up slightly, taking the goblet with an exaggerated sigh.

“I suppose this will do… for now.” His fingers brushed yours as he accepted the drink, a hint of gratitude in his expression despite his theatrics. He sipped slowly, savouring the blood you had so kindly donated to him, before setting it aside. “Though I’m not entirely convinced you’re sorry.”

“I am sorry,” you said, though your grin betrayed you.

He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t look sorry.”

You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips. His indignation melted completely as he kissed you back, his hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. When you pulled away, he was smiling despite himself.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his voice now filled with warmth. “But I suppose I’ll forgive you… this time.”

“Good,” you said, your fingers returning to his hair. “Because I’m not apologizing if we have a rematch tomorrow.”

He laughed, the sound rich and light, as he reclined back into the tub.

“We’ll see who’s laughing then, darling.” But the way his eyes gleamed with affection told you he didn’t mind losing—not if it meant moments like this.

Wyll:

The living room was an absolute disaster, a whirlwind of crumpled wrapping paper, tangled ribbon, and half-used rolls scattered across the floor. You and Wyll sat cross-legged on the rug amidst the chaos, determined to make progress on wrapping presents for the orphans at Halsin's shelter. The intention had been pure; the execution, however, was rapidly devolving into a comedy of errors.

"I don’t understand," Wyll said, brow furrowed as he wrestled with a piece of overly creased paper. "This shouldn’t be that hard! Fold, tape, fold again. How do people do this?"

You tried not to laugh as you watched him; Wyll’s hands were far too big for the small wooden box he was trying to wrap. His brow furrowed deeply as he pulled a strip of ribbon from the ball, only to somehow manage to tie it to his fingers—and then, with shocking precision, his whole palm became firmly affixed to the paper.

“Uh…help?” Wyll said, sheepishly holding up his hand, now cocooned in wrapping paper and ribbon. He wiggled his fingers, unable to escape his accidental gift-trap. “This was not part of the plan.”

You covered your mouth, your shoulders shaking with laughter. “How did you even—? Wyll, are you trying to wrap yourself?”

“Apparently,” he sighed with a dramatic groan, though the smile on his face told you he wasn’t really upset. “The Blade of Frontiers: slayer of fiends, champion of justice…bested by ribbons and paper.”

“Hang on,” you said, crawling over to help free him. “I’ll rescue you, O mighty hero.”

Before you could finish untangling him, however, you got distracted. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted one of the toy wooden trains meant for the children—a quaint little thing, painted red and green, its wheels polished and ready to roll. Without thinking, you picked it up, running it back and forth on the floor with a soft click-clack sound.

Wyll raised a brow, his hand still half-wrapped like a bizarre festive mitten. “Are you seriously playing with the orphans’ toys right now?”

“I’m testing it for quality,” you replied innocently, rolling the train along an invisible track. “We want them to be happy, don’t we?”

He snorted, watching you for a moment before shaking his head and finally freeing his hand from the ribboned trap. “Maker’s breath, you’re worse than me. Come on—we’re supposed to be getting back on track.”

You sighed and set the train aside, giving him a sheepish grin. “You’re right, back to work.”

However, as you grabbed another roll of ribbon, inspiration struck. Wyll was still sitting there with his horns through his hair, utterly unaware of the devious sparkle in your eyes. Quiet as a whisper, you scooted closer, ribbons in hand.

“What are you doing?” Wyll asked, narrowing his eyes as you leaned toward him.

“Nothing,” you said sweetly, fighting back laughter as you began tying a festive red ribbon onto one of his horns. Wyll froze, a mix of amusement and bewilderment crossing his face.

“Wait. Are you decorating me?” His voice was incredulous, though he didn’t move to stop you.

“Yes,” you replied matter-of-factly, adjusting the bow so it sat perfectly. “Hold still—you’ll ruin my work.”

He huffed dramatically, though his grin betrayed him. “This is absurd. I’m not a…a tree.”

“No, you’re better than a tree,” you said with a wink, tying another bow to the opposite horn. “You’re the most festive champion Faerûn has ever seen.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but when you leaned back to admire your handiwork—bright ribbons trailing from his horns—he started laughing. The deep, rich sound filled the room, infectious and warm.

“If anyone walks in and sees me like this…,” Wyll said, his cheeks flushed as he pulled a loose piece of ribbon from his lap.

“They’ll know you’re the life of the party,” you teased, sitting back with a smug grin. “Besides, it suits you.”

Wyll’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his smile lingering. “You’re lucky I adore you.”

“By the gods I am,” you said with a cheeky wink, grabbing another ribbon and waving it like a threat. “Now hold still—I’m thinking of adding some bells next. Ooh! And a star!”

Wyll groaned dramatically, but he couldn’t stop smiling as you playfully reached for him again. For all the mess and chaos, the two of you sat there surrounded by wrapping paper and laughter, the firelight flickering warmly across the room. It was imperfect, clumsy, and entirely yours—exactly how a holiday together should be.

Halsin:

The grove was finally still, the soft hush of evening settling over the festivities. After hours of chaos—distributing presents to bright-eyed orphans, sharing stories by the fire, and ensuring everyone was warm, fed, and smiling—you and Halsin found a moment to simply be. The two of you had retreated to the great oaken hall, where a large pine tree still stood, its branches weighed down with simple ornaments and twinkling lights. The room smelled of pine resin and the faint embers of a dying hearth fire.

With a contented sigh, you collapsed onto a bench, leaning heavily into Halsin, your body still buzzing from the day’s busyness. He chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating through his chest as he slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“You did well today,” Halsin murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “The children’s laughter… their joy. It was worth every moment of chaos.”

You hummed in agreement, eyes fluttering closed. “It was a perfect Christmas, but exhausting.”

“Indeed,” Halsin said, a teasing edge to his voice. “Though you seem to have missed one thing.”

You cracked open one eye, looking up at him suspiciously. “What? No way. We double-checked the list. Twice.”

Halsin’s lips twitched into a small smile as he nodded toward the tree. “Look again, my heart.”

With a groan, you hauled yourself upright and stumbled over to the tree. Sure enough, tucked just beneath its branches was a small box wrapped in green paper and tied with twine. You blinked, suddenly alert, and picked it up. A gift tag dangled from the twine, with your name scrawled across it in Halsin’s neat, unmistakable handwriting.

You turned around, holding the box aloft and fixing him with an accusing glare. “Halsin. We already exchanged our gifts this morning.”

The archdruid smiled serenely, utterly unrepentant. “I may have planned ahead.”

With a mix of curiosity and suspicion, you sat back down next to him, carefully untying the twine and peeling back the paper. Inside, nestled on a bed of soft moss, was a delicate silver necklace. The pendant was small but exquisitely crafted: a single snowdrop flower, petals inlaid with white enamel, and a tiny glimmering gemstone at its center.

You froze, your fingers trembling as you held it up, the light catching on its intricate details. A lump formed in your throat. Snowdrops—symbols of hope, of rebirth, of beauty in the harshest winters.

“Halsin…” you breathed, barely able to get the words out.

He watched you with infinite warmth, his large hand coming to rest gently on your knee. “It is a small thing, but meaningful. When I saw it, I thought of you: a rare light in the coldest times. It seemed fitting.”

Your chest tightened, emotion swelling as you turned the pendant over in your hand. You knew Halsin well enough to understand the significance of this. He was no fan of crowded cities—the noise, the smells, the clamor of it all. For him to have gone into the heart of one, just to find this for you, made the gift all the more precious.

“You went into the city for this?” you asked, your voice soft, incredulous.

Halsin gave you a sheepish smile, as if the idea of it were no great feat. “I did. I cannot deny it tested my patience, but you are worth that and more.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly wiped at them with your sleeve.

“You big softie,” you choked out, trying to tease him but failing miserably as your voice wavered. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted gently, reaching to take the necklace from your hand. “Here. Allow me.”

You turned your back to him, sweeping your hair aside as his warm, calloused fingers brushed against your skin. He clasped the necklace around your neck, the cool metal settling just above your collarbone. When you turned back to him, his eyes softened as they took you in, the snowdrop resting perfectly against your chest.

“It suits you,” he said softly, his voice low and reverent.

You managed a watery smile, blinking against the tears threatening to spill. “I don’t know how you keep topping yourself, but this… it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Halsin chuckled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You flatter me, my heart. But perfection is fleeting. This moment, however…” He reached up, his thumb brushing a tear away from your cheek. “…this moment I will treasure.”

You couldn’t help but laugh through the tears, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Halsin pulled you against him, his embrace strong and grounding, his chin resting atop your head as you breathed him in—the smell of pine, earth, and warmth.

“I should scold you for making me cry,” you murmured into his shoulder.

“And yet you haven’t,” Halsin teased softly.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your lips curling into a smirk. “Because you’re lucky I love you.”

He grinned, his eyes bright and filled with love as he leaned forward to kiss you—a kiss slow and lingering, full of warmth and tenderness. Outside, the wind howled and snow fell steadily, but in this moment, everything was still and perfect.

Credit to @tsunami-of-tears for the super cute dividers !

The gentlemen as promised! Hope you guys enjoyed this, will hopefully get back to requests now I just really wanted to make sure I got something christmassy out before the holiday is over. - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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magicalink · 8 months ago

Text

The "Experiment"

Albedo is quite obsessed with pussy. In a scientific way of course! And you're the only female close friend he has. So he asks you to let him run an experiment to exhaustively explore it. You accept. And you come to realize that he's interested in it in other ways too...

Taglist: @dainsleif-when-playable @chaotichearts-19 @huachengscrustybandages @scaraskzzs @mizokowashere @xxventiswindblumexx @twistedw0nd3rland

Cw: Albedo x f!reader smut. Use of the words 'sexual harassment' once but it's just part of a conversation, to clarify that this is not Albedo's intention. Pls this is just a very unrealistic fictional situation between two adult friends who are horny with each other but pretend not to be because one of them is not even human and both are socially awkward. Please if a doctor starts touching you like this try to run away and go to a safe place and report it as soon as you can!

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I hope that if you were waiting for this story this post finds you well and you enjoy it.

“Okay Y/N, I’m about to start,” the blond man said, his voice as silky and calming as always.

You gulped, looking up at him. You were lying half-sitting, not to mention half-naked, on his examination table. Your back rested on a soft pillow and your panties on a chair next to the table. Albedo had made you open and flex your legs, exposing your whole vulva for him to explore. He was hovering over you, ready to start his tests.

He noticed you were uncomfortable.

“Are you nervous, Y/N?” He asked with his ever-sweet voice, using that soothing doctor-like tone that he used to try and make you feel more at ease with him.

You shook your head, trying to look convincing.

“I'm just cold…” you replied, at least saying something true. Without your panties, your soft parts were feeling chilly. Even if his lab was well covered from the merciless environment of Dragonspine, it wasn't precisely warm either.

“Oh, don't worry, I won’t be using the cold metal medical tools,” he said casually. And you looked visibly confused.

“What are you using then?” you didn’t even finish your sentence when you saw him tightening up his gloves. But not the latex medical gloves!

Albedo looked at your horrified expression and spoke before you could complain, aiming a warm smile at you.

“Again, don’t worry Y/N, these aren’t my everyday gloves, but a prototype of gloves specially designed for this kind of procedure.” he explained "They are completely clean, so you don't have to worry about any kind of infections."

“Okay,” you visibly relaxed on his hard, cold table. With that beautiful smile, with those beautiful eyes, you were unable to distrust him. You loved his eyes so much, they were eclipsing, calming. You got lost in them within seconds just like you always did.

It almost felt unreal how you two were completely alone in the medical section of the lab. Behind closed doors. Just the two of you. You wished you could have an intimate conversation, learn more about him.

But then you remembered you were laying in front of him showing him your pussy and suddenly you couldn’t look at his face anymore, so you averted your gaze.

You felt as if your cheeks were burning.

“You can start anytime,” you said, pretending to be calm.

He smiled again.

“Wonderful.”

And you gulped again, your heart beating so damn fast. Geez. His voice, his looks, everything about him was so mesmerizing. You felt like you were getting drunk on his presence.

You made your best effort to not make the situation more awkward. To pretend this was a professional doctor-patient situation. To pretend you were not crazily attracted to him and to not make him feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want him to think that you were a pervert!

You tried to imagine you were somewhere else to avoid feeling aroused.

But it was hard.

You were so focused your heart skipped a beat and you made a little jump when you felt his warm fingers touching your pussy.

Again your cheeks felt like exploding.

“Relax...” he said, caressing one of your legs with his other hand, trying to get you to be less stiff.

But he did you worse, since his silky touch on your skin sent a pleasurable shiver up your spine. You bit your lip in frustration. It was impossible to contain the wetness that appeared down there.

Albedo looked at your juicy vulva and gently pressed a finger in between the inner labia, preparing to slide it in.

You swallowed heavily and tried to breathe deeply, but it was useless since automatically your knees got pressed together and your pussy became wet and warm.

He tensed his lips when your knees wouldn’t let him see.

“Do you think you can open your legs wide for me?” he asked kindly.

Surprisingly, you were able to refrain from moaning something along the lines of “I could always have my legs open for you, Albedo.” with a stupid face and a sultry tone, and instead muttered a low “Sure” and complied slowly.

You hoped with all your heart that your expression didn't look lewd. You just never thought he would say such words to you.

“Relax Y/N, otherwise it will hurt”, he said with a kind smile and tone.

You nodded. But you begged it to hurt. You begged it didn’t feel good. You begged that no moans escaped your mouth so you contracted all of your body on purpose.

And it seemed like he was trying to torture you. To expose your true feelings.

He caressed the opening of your vulva vertically from up to down repeatedly with his thumb, while his other fingers were delicately massaging your outer labia. His other hand kept one of your legs in place to prevent them from closing. This made you go crazy. You were so horny!

What the heck were those gloves made of?! They felt amazing! Warm, soft, textured!

You could feel how the area was getting more and more humid, and that seemed to please Albedo.

“See? That's better, the natural lubrication that comes from your body will help so that it doesn’t hurt,” he explained and continued giving you a pleasurable massage, caressing and touching, sinking his fingers a millimeter in just to pull them out again, playing shamelessly with your pussy until it was a dripping mess.

You arched your back in response to the pleasure and covered your ashamed gaze with the inner side of your elbow.

“I'm sorry.” you lamented. How sinful, putting up such a show for just a simple examination. It was impossible that he didn’t realize what was going on.

But he was immutable.

“Don't get embarrassed Y/N, it’s a completely normal reflex. When something gets in contact with the vulva, a woman's vagina starts releasing its lubricants to prepare for the insertion of something,” he explained in a relaxed and professional tone, showcasing all he had recently learned.

You cursed in your mind.

“Sure, but it doesn’t get this soaked unless she is extremely horny!” you thought. But you just nodded, your eyes still covered. You couldn’t believe you were so desperate for him.

You just let him continue, now it was inevitable to keep your legs open for him, what was hard was containing the sounds of pleasure.

After caressing your whole vulva with his open palm one last time, he slightly separated your labia and approached the fingers of his dominant hand.

“Ready?”

You nodded with your still-covered face, trying not to cry and start apologizing for being such a pervert.

“Okay, I'm getting in.”

And with those very inciting words, he slid his index finger in between your folds, slowly entering your pussy. You gritted your teeth together when you felt him getting in, it was just too good.

He looked satisfied when your pussy accepted his finger, gradually wrapping around it.

“Just like that, veery well…” he dragged his words with a calming, deep, silky voice that made your legs spread wider and your pussy drip wetter. Then he started making a circular motion with his finger inside of you, making you rejoice in pleasure. It was so hard to pretend you didn’t like it so bad.

“Is it okay if I slide it fully in?” he asked.

You exhaled heavily through your nose, trying not to cry. “Why? Why do you have to pick such provocative words, Albedo?” you thought. It almost felt like he was doing it on purpose…

“Does it hurt?” he asked, a bit worried. It was still a bit hard for him to read your expressions. Were you putting up a good act after all?

“No, no, it’s ok. It’s just weird,” you said, again, at least saying something true.

“Ok, do you think you can take another one?”

You were taking anything from him at this point. You just nodded.

“Ok, here I go…”

Was it just your impression or was he dragging his words very sexily?!

After repeatedly getting a finger in and out of your pussy until it was stretched and relaxed enough, he inserted both his index and middle finger in, sliding them in slowly until they were both completely in.

Damn. His fingers were so long and slender. But the glove made them so thick. And your arousal made your pussy really tight around them, making you feel completely filled by them. He was stretching you with expert movements, causing too much pleasure to let it go to waste. You had to bite your tongue to avoid sticking it out.

“I’m sorry, Albedo,” you thought, surrendering to the satisfaction of his hot agile hands. “It’s impossible not to enjoy this.”

You sat back and relaxed, allowing your blush to break free and go up your body, painting it a soft pink.

You finally let out a sigh, tired of battling. The only part you kept hard was your face, furrowed in a wince to cover your sinful delight.

“Does it hurt, Y/N?” was he really fooled by your expression? Such a smart man?

“Yes…” you struggled to pronounce. How shameful, lying to Mr. Albedo like that. To such a proper man…

“How about this?” …or was he??

You witnessed in disbelief how he used his thumb to gently rub on your clit while he kept scratching your g-zone with his index and middle finger.

“Ah…” a soft moan finally escaped your lips. You locked eyes with him, accusingly. He gave you an apologetic smile.

That made you snap. All of this time feeling ashamed and blaming yourself for feeling so aroused! But now it was clear to you that none of the things he did were innocent.

Both of your masks fell off. Such hypocrites. None of you were being professional. Both of you were lying, and in a very cowardly way, to avoid making the final move to admit their feelings to one another. But to taste the waters in this way? The epitome of unprofessional! The whole medical thing was just a façade! Shameless. Completely shameless. You didn’t expect something like this from him.

All of this "experiment" request was probably just an elaborate plan for him to see if you would bang him.

You were mad. But you had been thirsty for him for such a long time…and you never thought he would reciprocate. You were happy. No, you were more than happy, you were ecstatic. You wanted to jump to him from the table like a tiger to devour him.

But he was so shameless! He didn’t deserve it. Teasing you in such a way while pretending to feel nothing! Unacceptable.

You wanted him to go further, to expose himself, to reach a point in which there was no doubt that those were his intentions from the beginning. He deserved it. He had been such a bad boy. So if he really wanted you, he would have to earn it.

"Mr. Albedo, why are you touching my clitoris?" You asked with feigned innocence, hoping to make him feel guilty. "Is it part of the experiment?"

You watched in delight as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat under his star-shaped birthmark as he gulped down nervously. But he managed to keep the rest of his calm façade.

"Yes, Y/N, don't worry. It's needed to make sure the experiment goes well." He said, projecting that aura of being completely sure of himself that he always had. But your very sensitive pussy could feel his previously relaxed fingers tense up inside of you. Shameless. If this dude wanted to bang you, he’d have to beg for it.

"Ok, I see." You smiled politely, doing your best acting ever, as you sat back and made yourself comfortable on the examination table.

"Yes, let's continue…" he said with his deep and silky voice, sure he was back in control of the situation. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"By the way, Mr. Albedo," you said with an ample smirk. He looked down at you with a curious smile. Your whole demeanor had changed. You looked completely at home on his examination table, arms crossed behind your now laid back head, legs spread open around his arm whose digits were lost inside your warm depths "You never told me what this whole experiment was about." You said nonchalantly.

It was true. He had never told you the details. He had just pleaded you to help him and had earnestly told you that you were the only woman in the world he could ask such a favor from. And of course, that tactic worked, you had accepted with very little reluctance. Because you wanted to help him, of course, but also because of how big of a declaration of trust and intimacy that request was.

Even if he had pretended it was something professional. Even in those fake circumstances, you felt proud. To be the only woman close enough to Master Albedo, an artificial human who was often aloof to most people, seemingly uninterested in forming relationships with others. Your heart had raced at the thought that despite having Sucrose by his side for such a long time, the recent bond he had formed with you had made you the only suitable candidate for such a delicate matter. Because it meant that even if he didn’t reciprocate your lust and desire, he still felt quite close to you and trusted you.

And now here you were, unmasking Master Albedo’s true sneaky intentions. A wide, toothy smirk was splayed across your now confident face, satisfied that you caught him red-handed. Oh Archons, this man was reckless. He was simply unhinged. He loved to play with the limits of human relationships, tasting the waters as if it was an experiment, throwing savage jokes at people with the most subtle words and straight innocent faces. Despite not being human, he knew exactly how to treat them, how to play them. And that made you want to fuck him even more. He was so hot, so funny, so fucking alluring. And seeing his eternal confidence falter for the first time in your life was hilarious. You wanted to see the seemingly know-it-all, I-dont-have-human-desires chalkboy drool with a fucked-out face after being done with him.

“Ahem, well, Y/N, this experiment…” Albedo gulped, hesitating for a single moment before reading your expression, realizing how hungrily and shamelessly you ogled the golden, star-shaped mark on his throat, how wide and satisfied your grin was, how bright your eyes glinted with lust for him. And his smile came back to him, stretching his lips in a grin that reflected relief and also sweetness.

“The experiment was a success,” he said, looking down at you with a fond expression. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics.

“Oh really? Why so? What were you testing, Master Albedo~?” You kept on punishing him with your teasing. You weren't letting it slide, he didn’t deserve it. If he really wanted you, he would have to admit his sin, and his feelings for you.

You watched, delighted, how his Adam’s apple bobbed yet again under his golden star with a lewd sound. You could swear his pants had already tightened. He had told you numerous times you had no need to address him so formally. Yet you were always “Mr. Albedo this, Mr. Albedo that”, and despite him desperately wanting you to address him informally for some confirmation of closeness, that did things to him.

And now you called him “Master Albedo” to punish him? Archons, that did make him feel things previously unknown to him. He had never felt anything like that before, much less for such a silly nickname. Sucrose called him like that all the time, and he had never felt anything weird about it. Yet here you were, making him feel things. Crazy things. He already knew you were special to him because you made him feel things he had never felt for a human, or for anyone, before. And this only fueled his wild desire for you further.

And now it was clear.

“The purpose of the experiment was to confirm or deny if you bore any kind of sentiment towards me,” he said with a kind smile, looking down at you with his ever-calm and soothing eyes. “And given the results, I think I can confidently say that you share the feelings of fondness and desire I bear towards you.” He finished in a conciliatory way, begging for forgiveness with that sheepish smiley face.

“You know that in the human sphere, this could be considered deception, abuse of power and sexual harassment, don’t you?” You asked with an expressionless face, taking a disinterested look at your nails. Albedo’s already light skin suddenly went completely pale, his cyan eyes opening wide as saucers in a terrified glare.

“Wait, r-really?” you heard him stutter for the first time in your life. The hand he had inside your pussy felt like it had turned to stone and he used the other one to grab a big notebook from the bookshelf, one full of papers and loose notes, that he skimmed frantically, trying to decipher where he went wrong.

“Yeah. I hope it’s not necessary for me to write a report to the Knights of Favo…” you continued with your cold act. But Albedo couldn’t care less.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, his ice-blue eyes filled with worry. He kept his fingers inside of you, scared that, as he had studied, pulling them out suddenly would hurt you. “Did I offend you?”

You dropped the act and gave him a satisfied smirk because he passed the test, he had the reaction you had hoped for.

“I’m gonna forgive you just this time, because you’re not a human and you didn’t know what you were doing,” You said with a smug grin, observing him up and down, checking him out, still lying back with your arms comfortably crossed behind your head.

You could see Albedo quietly sigh in relief. He, who didn’t need to breathe. His body visibly relaxed and his skin recovered its natural color. He was about to make some snarky comment to try and get the upper hand again when you shushed him:

“But from now on I expect you to get your research on humanity right, chalkboy,” You said teasingly with a toothy grin.

And you heard him gulp. That golden star in his throat bobbed deliciously again, making you want to just jump at him and bite it already. But you were making him beg. And you felt triumphant upon seeing his reaction.

Chalkboy. His lips curled in a smirk. He felt giddy inside. You swore you could see his gray trousers getting tighter again. He took a step closer to you, who still laid arms crossed and legs open in his examination table, smiling wide at him.

Chalkboy. Did you really just call him chalkboy?

A year of battling for you to stop calling him Mister and now you were finally engaging in playful banter with him, and even called him a nickname? A mocking nickname on top of that??

To him that was the pinnacle of human interaction. He had been experiencing human-like sexual phenomena due to you for a while, but now you just gave him the stiffest boner of his life. He had been experiencing desires lately, but just now you made him straight up wanna fuck like he was made of flesh and blood and had the same animal nature that built your cells. He wanted to mix his cells with yours, in the filthiest way possible.

Chalkboy. He loved it. His experiment was a success, now he knew that no matter how you called him, whether it was with honorifics or informally, it made him feel good in different ways. But if you called him chalkboy…

“My dear Y/N, I promise you that from now on I’ll be much more careful in my research with human relationships,” he smiled sweetly and flirtatiously, hovering over you on the examination table, his free hand caressing your cheek “I want to kindly ask you: if you do indeed reciprocate my fascination towards you, do you want to be my partner in this journey to study the complexity of human relationships? I promise this time there will be no more secrets between you and me, and I want you to be the one to guide me,” he asked with a sweet gaze, his eyes hypnotizing you more than ever. You had never seen them filled with such fondness, with such affection, and most importantly, you had never seen them glazed with…lust.

That apology, that display of affection, and that confession of desire were enough to your hungry heart, so you smiled back at him, your heart racing excitedly. You giggled and held onto his hand that was on your cheek with both your hands in an equally affectionate way.

“My dear Albedo, I’d be delighted,” you said with a sweet smile that turned naughty when you pulled him closer. “I’m no expert though, I still have so much to learn too, and I’d love to do it with you.”

Both of you giggled when reading a second meaning in your words. You felt your pussy throb when you saw Albedo’s face contort in a teasing, seductive expression, and then you remembered his fingers lost in your depths.

“You don’t know how happy I am, Y/N…” he whispered, slowly starting to move his fingers again inside your folds that instantly reacted to his caresses. They started to renew the lubrication around his fingers, and a little mewl of pleasure escaped your lips. Albedo placed a finger from his other hand on them, as if studying your mouth and your reaction, lust and curiosity battling inside of him to take control. Before he could lean down to kiss you, you interrupted.

“What’s up with these gloves, Albedo?” you protested, tugging at the glove on his hand that was on your face. They were in the way, you wanted to be with him skin to skin “Did you make them with the sole purpose of sticking them in my privates or what?” You chuckled.

“Yes,” he smiled. The excitement he felt each time you called his name without honorifics was still hard to contain for him “I built them to ensure maximum pleasure.” He said, recovering a bit of composure.

You looked at him skeptically. You had asked that as a joke, you weren't expecting something like that. You were impressed. Human men would invite you to dinner (at most) if they wanted to fuck. But this chalk boy went all the way to build a sex toy, something you didn’t know if it even existed in Teyvat to begin with, for you. You let that sink in, observing him with your mouth agape.

Hm, first Venti and now him. This thing of fucking supernatural beings was going to become a custom, you could feel it in your blood…or rather, in your clit…

And it was the most exciting thing that you had ever felt in your unnaturally long life. After centuries of numbness and dullness, this was the kind of thrill that made you feel truly alive for the first time ever, something that you only experienced since you woke up in Teyvat less than a year ago. So you held onto those feelings and sensations for dear life.

“It does feel pleasurable,” you smiled up at him. The gloves made his slender fingers double the thick, absorbed the heat of your body to make them extra warm, and even had the texture of round tacks over its surface, letting him scratch every single pleasure point inside your folds with ease.

“I’m glad they work as intended. I really wanna put them to the test right now…” he said and you knew he meant business. The way he started fingering you stole your breath away and now you were moaning as your legs threatened to close again from the sensitivity.

“W-were you investigating how to finger a woman too??” You giggled teasingly in between moans, his deft fingers working wonders at turning your pussy into a drenched mess.

“Of course. I wanted to ensure that I would be able to take you to the point of orgasm,” Albedo nodded, his words still too methodical for your amusement.

“And where did you study that? Did you ask Kaeya for tips?” you stifled your giggle with your hand.

Albedo laughed as well, enjoying this moment of intimacy and bonding with you.

“Of course not. I’ve just been studying the anatomy of the vulva and the vagina, and taking into account the numerous…” you interrupted him.

“Come here,” you said softly, your eyes softening as well. You motioned him to pull his fingers out and to lean further down, pulling him close on top of you. You looked him in the eye, you looked at his lips, at his star birthmark, then at his eyes again.

You both locked eyes, lids slowly dropping and pupils gradually dilating. Albedo liked this. The beginning of intimacy. Studying it was fascinating. Experiencing it was enrapturing.

“No more books for a little while, ok?” You whispered, running your fingers through his gorgeous blond hair that you had always dreamed of touching. It felt like silk. Golden strands of silk sliding between your fingers “Just for a while. Just two people who like each other and want to be close…” you proposed, blushing profusely at the implication of your words “C-can we?”

“Y/N, I…” his golden eyebrows rose over his icy eyes, mouth agape as a little breath escaped his delicate lips again, even if he didn’t need it. He hesitated. Many thoughts coursed through his mind, his expression looking somewhat guilty.

“Please,” you implored with your eyes pulling his hand away from the quill and the notes “You can write down your notes after we finish, ok?”

“But what if I forget…?” Albedo sighed with a longing expression.

“Nothing worth remembering will happen if you don’t come close and focus on me. On us,” You said blushing, looking at his lips to avoid his gaze, embarrassed “This experiment is very different from the ones you normally do. Trust me, ok? I’m no expert, I’m new to this too but the only thing I’m sure about is that you just gotta relax and flow with the moment…I learned that the hard way,” you whispered, getting your fingers lost in his golden hair.

“Y/N…” He mumbled, looking down at you as his lids slowly covered his blue irises.

You tensed. How to convince this chalkboy? You started to babble with a pleading tone:

“Please. It’s different. Because even if you’re still the scientist who wants to analyze the data, this time you’re part of the phenomena you want to study. And this is not an exact science, if you don’t focus and let loose that phenomenon is not going to happ…” Finally, his lips clashed against yours, ending your insistent speech. Finally, you convinced him.

“Y/N…” he mumbled again, his intense eyes piercing yours with a longing gaze “I wanna make something unforgettable happen now. Not just something worth studying, something worth remembering. For both of us.” He admitted. You saw him blush for the first time, unsure if he had done the right thing by kissing you like that.

“That was a great first step…” you smiled sweetly, calming his nerves, and pulling him closer.

It felt weird when he held you while his hands were still covered in those textured gloves, but the kiss you exchanged was so good nothing else mattered at that moment. His lips felt so nice. Solid, cold, rough, but in a nice way. You pulled him even closer until he was straddling you on the examination table, making it creak.

You made out while you caressed his hair and scalp, he smelled and tasted so good. Like vanilla, sweet flowers, and…somehow, icy. His body felt so unnaturally cold to the touch that you felt the need to give him a bear hug to warm him up.

Meanwhile, Albedo felt in heaven. So in heaven, he let go of the quill and notes. More than anything, he was a curious soul and loved having new experiences. And this was his first kiss ever. So he also allowed himself to explore something new without monitoring it meticulously for the first time ever. It was like a whole new world of exciting things had been opened in front of his eyes, along with a new challenge: learning everything about it without endless analysis and report sheets. Just two people, exploring their bodies and letting themselves burn in the tension and the feelings that had been building up for months.

“Umf…” Albedo kept discovering things about himself, and he loved that. First, he discovered he was an avid kisser. He kissed you exploring every nook and crevice of your mouth, enjoying the new world of smells, flavors, and textures that was your body. He kissed you with no limitation because unlike you he didn’t need to make pauses to breathe.

“Sorry,” he chuckled with a sweet smile, releasing you as you started to gasp for air. “I think I’m finally getting carried away…” a smug smirk played on his pale, delicate lips.

“Great…” you smiled back, truly glad, as you normalized your breath before placing your hands on his shoulders.

He was so lost in the kisses that it took him a bit to realize that you were tugging at his clothes. Right, this experiment had more steps. He wanted to experience more!

“Want me to disrobe…?” He asked with a kind yet teasing expression.

“Please…” you nodded, blushing when you realized just how needy you sounded, getting bright red when he chuckled in response. All that horniness you had been trying to suppress for so long finally had the chance to escape.

Between giggles, Albedo balanced himself on his knees while you tried to help him undress. You were of very little help in undoing the intricate belts and buttons of his eccentric attire (which you wondered if never got uncomfortable for him to wear), but he appreciated your intention nonetheless.

You felt a little flame rise in your lower belly when he discarded his giant coat and you saw him in a plain blue shirt, undone buttons exposing that star on his neck that you wanted to devour so much. You took your hands to the shirt and this time you were quick to undo all of its buttons, revealing his lean and slightly toned midriff.

Fuck he was hot. His alabaster-like skin had a subtle ethereal glow, just like his hair. He looked like some kind of angel. One with a very horny look on his face. Your heart raced, you had never seen him like that. You had seen his eyes with a teasing expression countless times before, but never lit up with desire. You couldn’t believe you were the one he desired. You didn’t understand how or why, but there was no point in questioning it right now, you just had to take this opportunity, he wanted you as much as you wanted him. Maybe even more…

You caressed his shoulders when you pulled his shirt down, leaving it hanging from his elbows because you thought he looked even sexier that way. His skin was smooth, soft, and his flesh was firm.

You pulled him down on top of you and you entangled in a passionate kiss again, your hands pawing at each other’s hair and backs.

You had to make little pauses to breathe, making his desire grow uncontrollably for more and more. He liked experiencing for once a feeling so strong that he had to make an effort and restrain himself so he could give you time to get your much-needed oxygen.

In one of your pauses, you finally acted on your primal desires and placed a hand on the back of his neck to press him down onto you and bit his star-shaped birthmark. He let out a joyous moan he didn’t know he was capable of producing as you licked and nibbled at his golden star, his Adam's apple protruding under his delicious neck. Damn, just damn, you turned him on in a way he had never felt before. He didn’t need oxygen. He needed you.

“Ah…” you moaned too when you felt him hump your bare pussy, arousing you further. You looked down and saw his slacks bulging needily. You blushed when you realized you had stained his fly with your juices.

Albedo had no option but to let go of you even if for a brief moment to release himself from those pesky pants that were getting in the way of that desperately needed connection with you. He looked down at himself for a moment to admire, amazed, the way his pants formed a tent like never before. This, too, was a new experience for him. He had been having these physical reactions for a while, when his desire got awakened by you. But he had never been this stiff, this throbbing. This desperate. Like he was finally part of the animal kingdom. He liked it. He enjoyed it.

He quickly undid his metallic belt with a swift movement, making a lewd sound that made you arch your back, and just the sight of your pussy bucking up and pleading for him made him open his eyes hungrily and he throbbed again. He needed you right now, so he didn't even bother to take off his pants. He just unbuttoned them and pulled them down enough to take his aching cock out.

He looked at it for a brief second, still taking in the sensation of seeing and feeling himself like that for the first time. He had never been so erect, so worked up. His cock was so sensitive that every pump of his artificial blood felt nice each time it made it throb, swaying slightly as it poked out of his underwear.

You were mesmerized, almost drooling as you saw such a delicious sight. That cock was so perfect, so immaculately white under its golden frame, pale pink hues etched delicately onto the pulsing veins on its upper side and onto the desperate tip. He was bigger than you expected. Not too big in length, but in girth. He was so thick it made your pussy throb in anticipation.

It was such a piece of eye candy that you made a futile attempt to get up from your laid position to try and grab him to, put him in your mouth. But Albedo didn’t even realize, and he didn’t give you time to do it. He was so enraptured by this animal awakening that he pushed you back down onto the table without even thinking. His hand was wrapped around the base of this organ that captured your attention so much, holding it firmly just to push it directly into your needy core.

And that’s exactly what he did. He didn’t waste time. He used his hand to guide it like he knew what he was doing and you felt its pale tip rub against your clit before it slid effortlessly into your drenched depths.

“Ah…~” a needy moan escaped your lips as you finally got the desires you had been suppressing for months fulfilled in an abrupt thrust that stretched you out just the way you liked.

As he released the base of his cock, he gave you an analyzing look to check if your whimpers meant that he was hurting you or making you feel good. And the dilated look on your pupils, drunk on pleasure over your flushed cheeks, was enough to make a wildfire ignite in his chest, ready to fuel that movement he had been studying tirelessly but which motivation he had never comprehended before this very moment.

His hands and knees rested at both sides of your body on the examination table as he loomed over you, his spine curved to position his face oh so close to yours. Out of your daze, you opened your eyes only to find his, burning despite their icy color like never before. You felt a rush of emotion, a blush that crept from your stomach up to your cheeks. You wrapped your legs around his narrow hips and your arms around his neck, caressing the hair on the back of his head, pulling him closer, making him yelp. But he quickly adjusted, a sweet giggle erupting from his defined lips. You exchanged amused and complicit smiles at this newfound connection. Neither of you could believe this was finally happening. It was like an impossible dream. And as if afraid that it could end at any moment, you wasted no time.

One of his hands propped him up, the other one found its place on your temple to hold it firmly and rub circles on your skin with his thumb. You tilted your hips, pulling him close into you with both your limbs and your hungry insides. He moaned again, feeling you suck him deeper and deeper. Deep until he hit the very bottom. And just When he thought there wouldn’t be anything else capable of turning him into an animal, he hit your cervix with his tip. And that’s when he lost himself.

“Archons…” he trembled as he knew this was the first time he was letting loose for real and losing control. He pulled all the way out just to thrust back in in a sharp motion that made you moan, only fueling his lust further. And then the studied, previously foreign motion felt natural, like a need he didn’t know he had. Back and forth, in and out, until the edge of the examination table rattled against the wall relentlessly.

As his thumb rubbed shakily onto your cheek, you pulled him impossibly closer, your bare legs wrapping tighter around his slim waist. It felt so damn good. The gloves had been amazing, but Albedo didn’t fall behind. His cock was so goddamn thick it filled you up in a way that made you wetter and wetter, slick dripping down your entrance and making a mess each time he pushed in and out. It rubbed so well every crevice, scratching those spots that tingled so tasty…

It was perfect, amazing, wild. Forehead against forehead, your sweat tainting his cold skin, the lab was filled with sounds so lewd they took your lust up a notch. The creaking of the examination table, suffering under both your weights, its slamming against the wall until the paint was dented, and the squelch…the squelch your drenched pussy made each time his cock pushed back inside was maddening.

His cock was cold like the rest of his body, further stimulating you until you lost all shame and started moaning as you observed his handsome face. Your heat warmed his body, and your sweat made his soft skin shimmer. Crazed out of pleasure, you bit his star again, a strangled moan erupting from his throat as your hands got lost in his blond hair, messing up his usually neat braid.

“Bedo…” you moaned, and that was his sweet demise.

It was too much. This wild experience, this sweet pleasure, and the fulfilling intimacy of you calling him a nickname in that lust-filled voice.

“Haah…” he couldn’t keep it in. The control slipped out of his hands for real for the first time in his life and it felt amazing. The orgasm hit him like a fucking truck, making him see white and making his always crowded mind go completely blank.

“Y-Y/N…” he moaned desperately, his already deep voice sounding breathier and huskier than ever before. Realizing what was happening, you held him even tighter as he rode his high for as long as he could.

As thick ropes of not exactly cold but unnaturally lacking in warmth cum spurted deep into your body, Albedo felt his mind heavy and hazy. He let out a guttural groan that made you horny as fuck, and kept pumping his semen inside of you, yet another new side of himself awakening this fateful afternoon. He felt as if he was an animal too, as if he was possessed by some kind of organic need to reproduce.

If he could, he would be sweating more than you, his brow furrowed in effort, pumping in desperately until his cock wasn’t hard enough to do it anymore. With another groan, this time of frustration, he collapsed on top of you.

“Ngh…” he sighed, and the examination table creaked and hit the wall one last time as his movements finally died down, his whole weight rested on you.

“There, there…” you said softly, still blushing a bit, but recovering your thinking and speaking capabilities now that he wasn’t pleasing you. You rubbed his back gently with your hand, hugging him.

Albedo took some moments to savor this delightful moment: the triumph of finally achieving the physical and emotional intimacy he had wanted with you for so long, the success in transcending the theory of this ritual he had studied tirelessly to finally experiencing it for himself, the post-orgasmic bliss, the memories he would never forget…

“I’m sorry…” he whispered after a while, his voice still husky and sexy to your lustful ears.

“S-sorry?” you raised your brows in perplexity “Why are you sorry for? I already told you that I forgive you…” you mumbled.

“Not for that,” he chuckled, finally recovering to slowly lift himself back up onto his hands to straddle you again “For releasing before you…” he said with that irresistible breathy voice, finally managing to steady himself onto the table. You found his relaxed expression and disheveled appearance beyond hot.

“Ah, don’t worry, that happens,” you said, blushing, despite the fact that that very rarely happened to you with Venti.

You saw him pull out of you with a very careful motion, your still needy pussy throbbing in frustration. You wondered what the hell was going through his mind as he placed his hand on it and separated your labia a bit to observe his semen pour down onto the table. You had never seen that look in his eyes before. You had never seen him bite his lip either. That made you blush even more.

“No, Y/N, you don’t worry. I’m not letting you go unfulfilled,” he replied with an enigmatic tone, engrossed in observing the white substance gushing out of your body.

A million questions ran through his mind. Regarding the full extent of his nature and existence. Regarding the possibility of his seed yielding any kind of fertility. His ever-curious nature came back to him recharged, now fueled by this previously unknown desire to breed.

“Oh…really?” was all you managed to mumble, looking up at him with red cheeks and again wondering what the hell was going on in that freaky mind of his. Up to this very day, you had always thought of Mr. Albedo as a very proper man. But now you were starting to realize that he was a weirdo.

“Most certainly,” he smiled with satisfaction as he tightened both textured gloves and pushed two fingers back into your needy core.

“Hyah!” you moaned, gripping the sides of the examination table. It didn’t matter if he was a weirdo, he was a weirdo who made you feel good.

“Does my invention have your approval, Y/N?” he asked, looking down at you with icy blue eyes full of hopefulness.

As he explored all of the pleasure points he had carefully studied in the few books that he had managed to find, all you could do was nod in between moans and give him a weak thumbs up.

You inhaled to tell him something, but he interrupted you again:

“I’m so glad. I wanted to ensure maximum pleasure. Please let me show you the full extent of the potential of this device!” he smiled, clearly excited to show off his creation and gain your validation. And then came your sweet demise.

Because with the push of a button, the textured gloves started to vibrate. To fucking vibrate.

Ah, Archon-forsaken Albedo…he could be as much of a freak as he wanted! This was too much, too much…did this even exist in Teyvat? Had he just built a gadget that he could patent and get rich?

You didn’t know. All you knew was that now you were the one throwing your head back and moaning in pleasure, louder than ever before. So loud that you were lucky you were alone at the lab today.

“Is it good?” Albedo smiled down at you, his artificial heart beating excitedly in his chest.

Your moans were ragged, not pleasant or erotic to the ears at all. They sounded more like an agonizing animal. But they showed just how much of a good time you were having. And that made Albedo giggle in pure satisfaction.

He kept fingering you, and pressed the vibrating part against the head of your clit until your hips snapped and you let out a loud and labored moan. And then the disaster.

The vibrations that were applied to the head of your clit traveled through your nerves until they reached your brain, turning it into pudding. Your mind went blank, and your body reacted in a way previously unknown to you.

“Mesmerizing…” Albedo mumbled in utter fascination as you came undone, panting and moaning, and let out a generous squirt of warm whitish liquid that stained everything, tainting the air with yet another pungent aroma.

“Al…bedo…” you moaned weakly, trying to apologize as your brain was trying to recover its solid state.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfect,” He said softly, with a calm smile. With lidded eyes glinting with wishes untold, he observed the mess splattered all over his clothes and the examination table. His usual self wanted to collect all kinds of samples and his newfound animalistic side wanted to lick it clean.

“P-perfect?” You asked weakly, slowly closing your shaky legs to lay on your side and try to normalize your breath after that mind-blowing orgasm.

“Yes, Y/N, it was perfect. You are perfect.” He smiled, looking at you as if he was in a trance and scooting closer “You are so special. So very special…” he added with his silky voice, cupping your chin with a gentle hand to make you look at him.

You looked into his eyes. They were icy blue and pretty as ever. But there was something different in them you hadn’t seen before. At that moment, you had no idea what it was about.

Albedo was a very good host for the end of the evening. He helped you clean yourself and didn’t complain about the mess you had made in his lab. He cooked for you and you had a pleasant conversation over dinner, huddled up and protected from the cruel cold of the outside. You felt your friendship with him grow. When it was late and dark and obviously time to go, he told you to stay the night and to leave in the morning when it was less dangerous. “Crossing Dragonspine during the night is unwise and imprudent!” He had said.

And he was so hospitable so as to let you into his private room to sleep in his bed. So that was what you did. You slept by his side, snuggled into warm blankets that made the snowstorm outside seem like a distant dream.

Contrary to your expectations, there was no sex that night. You slept peacefully while Albedo was in the lab, and when he seemed to finish his experiments and came back to the room to sit on the bed, next to you, he continued to take notes on uncountable papers.

From time to time, he turned his head to see you and check if you were asleep and to squeeze your hand affectionately or pat your back in a soothing manner.

But you didn’t have any more sex. That night.

The next morning you left in peace, and you didn’t have sex with him again until months later, when you returned from Liyue.

In the letters you exchanged, the growing friendship and trust was clear and so were the intentions of repeating the experience. But both of you were ignorant of something very important about the other. Albedo was too subtle with his hints and you didn’t pick them up.

So the first time you returned to Mondstadt after your endeavors in Liyue, he took the chance and invited you for dinner.

That night, he told you about his desire to procreate with you, and you, flabbergasted, literally said ‘no, thank you’. He was surprised, and asked you why you had sex with him months ago if the idea of reproducing was so unpleasant to you. And you, shocked, had to admit that you just assumed he was sterile. Because he was...right?

Albedo had cleared his throat uncomfortably and had told you that he was not sure about this, that he desperately wanted to know if there was a possibility that he could have his own children. It was obvious to you that it was a sensitive topic for him. So it was hard to find the words and the tone to reject his proposal and keep your friendship intact.

How did you make it? How did you tell him that you had no intentions of having children, that your priority was to find your brother, that he shouldn’t feel down, that he would he a wonderful father even if he wasn’t a biological one, that now you were always taking a contraceptive herb given to you by some wise ladies in Liyue and that you two could have sex as long as you took that herb just in case he ended up being fertile?

Well, that’s a topic for another story.

This one ends here. But you never knew if Albedo was simply sterile or if that intense day at the lab you didn’t get pregnant because of pure luck.

Oof! I can't believe I finally posted this weird thing. I'm not sure I like how this one turned out, it has many incongruences because it was started in...2021!!! Can you believe that?? 💀💀 I'm literally not the same person I was when I fisrt started this drabble. I had to fix and rewrite the beginning because this was one of my first attempts at writing in english, I had no idea about english punctuation during dialogues and many other important things. I had to add quotation marks and commas to every single old dialogue 💀 Also upon re reading it I realized just how creepy the situation was originally so I rewrote it a bit to try and fix it? I dunno if I fixed it. Guess I witnessed things irl that made me open my eyes about certain things so I cut out parts that grossed me out and re wrote them. I know I wouldn't write something like that nowadays, it's impressive to see the changes on my writing and my thinking over time, specially over such a short period of time like 2021-2024, I usually focus on the changes from the things I used to write when I was in highschool. It would have been interesting if I had completed this fic back then and compare it to a new fic, but I didn't so I got this weird Frankenstein hybrid instead.

Not only you can see the messy seams in this piece because of the changes on my views but you can also notice the incongruence in Y/N's behavior 💀 This story happens before Y/N travels to Liyue from the first time, so she was still a shy and inexperienced woman, she just had her first love, first kiss, first everything with Venti and that is clear in the beginning, where I left the dialogues and inner thoughts I wrote back in 2021, while towards the middle and the sex scene she suddenly jumps to being the Y/N of the current version, who has seen lots of stuff in Teyvat and had tons of things to show to Albedo. Oops...💀 I tried to fix it so that she wouldn't be as forward as she would be now, but I really wanted to finish this fic and I found it really boring to write shy, inexperienced, insecure, passive Y/N, so in the name of having fun at writing I ended up with a thing in between. But honestly that part where she manipulates him and plays him like a fiddle is 100% post Fontaine Y/N and completely out of cronology. Tried to tone her down during sex to reflect her little experience, dunno if succeeded.

I don't entirely dislike this piece because I think it illustrates well the relationship I envisioned for Y/N and Albedo and I think their cringe and socially inept dialogues are on point to that. Albedo struggles with being overly formal without trying because that's just the way he talks, and shy, people pleasing Y/N used to mimic that, even if Albedo desperately wants her to drop the formalities with him and doesn't know how to ask for it properly. Yeah towards the sex scene that falters and current Y/N shows but oh well. Guess this is what happens when you leave a fic unfinished for 3 whole years. I wanted to take this off my drafts desperately. I want to finish those old projects I wanted out so I can make space for the new ideas I have! Lately I've been really in the mood for starting a new fic. And hopefully finish it within a year before I completely lose touch with the feelings and views that inspired it.

I started writing erotica ten years ago when I was 14 💀 And at first everything was so wholesome until I got unsupervised internet access and porn ruined my mind. I started this blog to slowly reconnect and reconcile with sex and sexuality and upon re reading the first fics I posted (*cough cough* the Scara ones specially*) I think that's working. And what happened over the years with this fic is a perfect example of that. Can't wait to see if I improved when I start a brand new one.

This fic was supposed to be finished and posted in March 💀 And we are ENDING JUNE 💀💀💀 My sincere apologies if anyone thought I was dead or dropped the fandom, the truth is that I still write a lot whenever I can, but because of university I have no time for organizing, editing and posting. At the beginning of the year, when I said I would post a fic per month, I was totally underestimating how hard sophomore year can be 💀 It was also super hard for me to finish fics about characters who are not Scara/Kuni/Wanderer 😳 I'll have some free time in a few weeks, so hopefully I'll gather the strength to polish and post all the raw content that's sitting dormant in my drafts.

I missed Tumblr and my blog so much 🥺 I wish I had more time for this. I have tons 9f unread notifications and no time to read them all. I don't even have time to read fanfics nor the books I bought for pleasure, because I need to finish reading for university 🥺

I dunno what or when (hopefully as soon as possible) next post or posts will be, so expect the unexpected 😅 Or make your requests, I'm working on two at the moment (that person who asked for Ei catching step-siblings Kuni and Y/N, if you happen to be reading this, I'm halfway through it, I swear!)

Anyway, I just hope all the people who voted for this fanfic like it if even a bit, despite it being a bit of a Frankenstein. It has some parts that I like a lot. See you next time!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #fanfic #albedo #albedo x reader #albedo smut #albedo x you

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