#i THINK thats the ship name for these three

[kakushusband]

Robot characters who are given names like SL-308-62 but instead of their human friend going Well let's call you Sally for short, they instead ask the other if they Like their current name.

"Do you like your serial number?" they ask. "Yes, quite. It reminds me of who I am" the robot replies. "I have heard others like me go by different names after some time, and maybe one day I'll choose one for myself, too. But right now that is my full name, yes" they continue.

Because it's not your decision to make whether or not the robot will receive a new name. It should be theirs only. What's the difference? One is more complex and the other is simplified. They were both given by strangers instead of themselves.

"62 will do," they conclude. "It's my model number - there will be no other 62 after me."

[peacockrulz]

N tries to tell another joke (gone wrong)

Sequel to This

[squarebracketsmileyface]

maybe i'm a ~weirdo~ but i'm currently fixated on Brian and Jark and pregnant Tim SFW-ly;

i feel like Jark would unintentionally fall for all the old wives' tales (anxiety and general paranoia after all they've been through), so i can see them fretting every time Tim tries to reach for something that's above his head because Jark is sure that the baby'll snare themself in their cord and other goofy stuff like that haha <3 they'd be such a helicopter partner during Tim's pregnancies, they'd always have to dissect the ingredients in everything he eats to make sure nothing in it is harmful to pregnant folk. i can see Tim getting mildly annoyed by it, but at the end of the day he shrugs it off because he knows Jark loves both him and bubba and wants them both to be okay <3

meanwhile, my most prominent image of Brian is him doing wheelies through every opportunity to feel Tim's belly or kiss on it, because in his wheelchair, he's at PERFECT baby-belly-kissing height! you REALLY expect him to keep his hands to himself or not put his face on Tim's belly to feel the baby kick him in the face when they're literally RIGHT THERE? at EYE LEVEL with him?? and Tim just waddles away as fast as he can saying 'get away from me (playfully)' with Brian chasing him in his wheelchair, laughing his ass off. bonus points, as soon as he gets Tim cornered and get his hands/face/lips on his belly, you KNOW the baby's gonna be moving like crazy from Tim jostling them around, so Brian basically gets an even bigger reward lol :)

and in the Jark Lives AU, Jark is just constantly scolding Brian for winding Tim up because 'stress is bad for the baby' (again, anxiety) lmao.

i'm sorry i'm just currently hyperfixated on Happy Polyam Family pregnancy fluff aaaaa

Oh this is so cuuuuuuute omg omg omg

Jark would 100% be overprotective and worried constantly about all the old wives tales and little things, they've been right next to Tim through a lot and have almost lost him so many times, of course they're gonna be over worried (they're also an only child which will make sense why I'm mentioning in a bit) about Tim doing anything at all that could possibly harm him or the baby. They can't lose him, not again (in a Jark lives AU they meet up with Brian again way earlier au, Tim and Jay would still fall out and go to Benedict hall alone, Alex would shoot Jay, but it wouldn't be fatal, and Tim would find him still alive, and the two of them would have time to go back to Brian so Tim has them both in one place when he calls for an ambulance. Jay 'lost' Tim in that argument, and yes it was only for a very short while, but it still fucked him up really back with how his obsession with Tim was going) So they're super hovery and helicoptery as a partner with him. They would be a helicopter parent once Birdie is born, too.

Brian on the other hand is sooooo laid back. He's like, the upper middle kid out of like 8-10 or something, he knows a lot about pregnancy, he saw his mum pregnant many times, so it doesn't worry him anymore. She knew a lot about pregnancy by the time he was born, so she was never worried about it, which meant no one in her house was ever worried about it. It was just "oh mums having a baby again, cool" and that's about that. So with Tim, he's supportive when Tim needs it, but he's not overbearing or overprotective. He looks after Tim just right, teaches him about pregnancy (specifically the bits that aren't talked about as much) and he's just all round the level head in the house, y'know? He's the one who stops Jark from making Tim get worried over nothing, he dispels the old wives tales and makes sure Tim has everything he needs, y'know?

If Tim's craving something, Brian sends Jark out to get it, partly to get them out of the house for a bit so he and Tim can de-stress a bit from Jark's over-cautiousness etc (Jark doesn't wanna go out unless they're doing something for Tim, or Tim's with them) and partly to give them something to do so they feel useful. Cos that'd be another reason for Jark's helicopter-partner-ness, they need to feel like they're doing something because sometimes seeing Tim being the one who gets to carry their baby does make them a bit dysphoric, so they distract themself with housework and looking after Tim, y'know? (Talked more about that in this post) Tim definitely appreciates those moments where it's just him and Brian. He loves Jark. He adores them, so much, and he wouldn't change them for the world, but sometimes their worry gets a bit much, y'know?

Brian being perfectly baby bump height is so perfect, too tho, like omg. He'd love it, he'd love that he's the perfect height to give Tim a hug and rest his ear on his belly. It's like his favourite thing to do. Tim 100% runs away from him sometimes, just because he finds it hilarious watching the look of (sliiiiiightly over dramatised) heartbreak on Brian's face before he gives chase and corners Tim somewhere so he can kiss and cuddle him forever. Jark 100% gets all scold-y about it and Brian just yanks them in too like "shut up and give the baby a cuddle too you worrywart" y'know?

[worldsokayestdragon]

The Transitive Property

Read on AO3

Ed couldn't sleep the first night after Greed joined his little crew-sorry, after they joined Greed.

The voice of reason in his head (sounding annoyingly like his little brother) pointed out that this was probably because he wasn't trying to sleep, but that wasn't the point. 

The point was he found himself sitting awake by the dying fire-long after Darius and Heinkel had turned in for the night and started snoring loud enough to alert all of Amestris to their location-staring at Greed while trying not to let the homunculus catch him looking.

And it was stupid! Why should he have to hide what he was doing? It wasn't like he even really cared about Greed. He was looking for any signs of Ling. His boyfriend had been possessed right in front of him (willingly, on purpose, like the stubborn asshole he could be when he felt like it) and then disappeared for months only to show back up long enough to freeload all of Ed's food-again-and have a five minute conversation before getting reabsorbed into the monster possessing him. Quite frankly, Ed thought he was more than justified in staring. He had every right to interrogate, to poke and prod, to demand to speak to Ling.

The voice that sounded too much like Al reminded him that pissing Greed off and potentially driving him away wouldn't help him get Ling back, that just because something was justified didn't mean it was smart, and that eventually he'd have to stop flying off the handle all the time and learn to be more strategic.

So Ed restrained himself to observing. It didn't make him feel better. It was Ling's face in front of him, except that it wasn't. Familiar features of a person he cared about forming expressions that were all wrong, his boyfriend's body with someone else's posture. Greed hadn't spoken for a while, but Ed knew that his voice would be too low, too rough, the Amestrian accent grating on Ed's nerves when it came out of Ling's mouth.

But there were glimmers of hope. As they sat in silence, Greed's expression changed every so often. The shifts were tiny, subtle, but Ed knew Ling's face well enough to spot them even if he couldn't be sure what they meant on Greed. The corners of his lips twitched as if fighting a smile, his eyebrows furrowed in the barest start of a frown. occasionally he tilted his head as if listening to someone or formed his mouth around words without vocalization. There was no one else around, and he wasn't talking to Ed, so all signs pointed to Greed and Ling having some sort of internal conversation. Really the fact that he was sitting quietly supported that hypothesis; the Greed they'd met in Dublith had never shut up, and this version had seemed just as chatty back in Central.

If Ling was aware and strong enough to keep a running commentary to Greed, he might be able to seize another opportunity to take back control of his body. If nothing else, maybe the dumbass could annoy the homunculus into trading a few minutes conversation for some peace and quiet.

Or maybe he'd annoy Greed too much and get his consciousness completely destroyed, pushed so deep into the philosopher's stone it would never resurface. Greed may have turned on the other homunculi, but that didn't mean he was a good person now. For all Ed knew he might hold no more value for human life than the rest of his wacko little "family". 

Ling could be in very real danger, could already be suffering, and there was nothing Ed could do about it, he couldn't even know for sure, and what kind of useless boyfriend-

Greed broke the silence with a low growl, effectively interrupting the spiral of doom Ed's thought had been trapped in. He was glaring at Ed now, apparently having caught on to all the staring and not appreciating it. The growl sounded more frustrated than aggressive, but still. Ed shifted, getting ready to jump to his feet and run or fight if necessary.

"Alright short stack, if you're gonna sit there angsting at me all night you could at least tell me what your deal is."

Ed shot to his feet, hands balled into fists as he shouted down at Greed, "Who are you calling short?! I'll kick your ass right now!" So much for not flying off the handle, but a man had to have standards.

Greed didn't rise to meet him. He looked calmly up at him from his seated position, apparently completely unconcerned with Ed's rage. He looked more amused than anything, which did nothing to improve Ed's mood.

"Yeah, sure you will," Greed agreed, too easily to be anything but patronizing. "But seriously, would you tell me what your problem with me is? As your new leader, I can't have this kind of hostility from my henchmen."

Ed bristled at the henchman comment, but bit back any retort to it. He had agreed to following Greed after all, and it really wouldn't bother him if he wasn't already so pissed.

"My problem with you?" Ed scoffed. "Well, putting aside what happened in Dublith-"

Ed cut himself off sharply when pain flashed across Greed's face, different from how Ling would wear it but still unmistakable. It occurred to him that everyone Greed had known in Dublith had ended up dead, and that Ling had been pretty vague about what had caused Greed to freak out and let him gain control.

Maybe poking that particular sore spot wasn't the best idea. Ed might not have a reputation as the nice Elric brother, but he didn't try to be outright cruel.

Before Ed could beat himself up too much about putting such a sad look on Ling's face, even by proxy, it disappeared behind Greed's usual smug expression.

"What happened in Dublith, huh?" he asked. "I thought I remembered seeing you there. Honestly though, that whole scene's a little fuzzy, so I still don't know why you're looking at me like you wanna kill me."

"You kidnapped my brother and beat the shit out of me!" Feeling bad about how things turned out didn't give Greed a pass for starting the whole mess.

Greed tilted his head. "Huh? Doesn't everyone do shit like that to you, though? I mean, you said those chimera guys were trying to kill you when you met."

"That's..." Ed faltered. Technically it wasn't an incorrect assessment. Lots of people attacked him when meeting him for the first time, and he didn't usually hold a grudge over it. Hell, Ling had ordered his personal guards to beat some answers out of Ed and Al, and then Ed had agreed to go on a date with him a few hours later. Lan Fan hadn't pulled her punches either. 

But just because their fight in Dublith hadn't been too out of the ordinary (god his life was weird) didn't mean Ed didn't still have plenty of reason to hate Greed.

"Fine then, maybe I'm pissed because you're possessing Ling! You stole his body and now you're walking around wearing his face, doing who knows what to him in there, and you won't fucking let him go!"

"Whoa whoa whoa." Greed held up his hands as if trying to hold back Ed's anger. He didn't look exactly apologetic, but he'd dropped the smirk and seemed to be taking the conversation seriously for the first time. "Couple of problems with all that. One, it wasn't my idea to possess the guy. I can't exactly control what dear old dad does with my stone when I don't have a body, and it's not like I can just leave once I'm in here. Two, I didn't steal shit. He agreed to give me his body. We had a whole conversation about it. This is my body now, and you not liking it doesn't change the fact that it was Ling's choice. And three, I'm not doing anything to him. If anything it's what he's doing to me, damn princely brat's been talking my ear off since I got this body, it's seriously annoying.”

Ed really wished he could believe that.

“So you're not torturing him to prove you're better than humans or punish him for defying you or whatever? Because I talked to Envy about how you homunculi feel about humans, and it doesn't seem like you'd be cool with sharing a body just like that.”

Greed gasped and put a hand to his chest like he'd been shot. “Did you just compare me to Envy? Envy's a fucking asshole! Their whole ‘humans are garbage I'm so much better’ thing is their own personal problem, I don't give a shit about any of that. Humans, chimera, any of the other homunculi that don't end up dead, it doesn't matter. They'll all belong to me once I take over the world!”

Ed should maybe be concerned about his new ally casually bringing up world domination, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. 

“You're serious? Ling's really okay?”

Greed rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he's fine. I keep saying I don’t lie, but no ever listens. Look, he agreed to let me have his body-which makes him my possession-and I take good care of my things. He's got nothing to complain about!” Greed paused, tilting his head slightly, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Actually, he's great at finding things to complain about, but since I don't need to eat and I also can't control the amount of screaming from people who are grumpy they got turned into a rock, none of his complaints are my problem.”

Ed’s right knee went weak with relief. The left stayed strong, Winry's handy work as sturdy as ever, but he sat down heavily anyway, finally giving up his position standing over Greed.

He'd been trying not to think about it-and there'd been one crisis after the other to distract him-but it had been eating at Ed, not knowing if Ling was okay. And after sending his best friend and baby brother off with a literal serial killer and hoping for the best, the accumulated weight of uncertainty about the fates of his loved ones had been almost too much to bear. Now hearing that Ling hadn't been suffering horribly, that he wasn't in any danger (or at least not from the being controlling his body) had Ed feeling so much lighter he almost didn't know what to do with himself.

Maybe he was crazy for taking Greed's word for it, but he sounded so sincere. Really there was no reason for him to lie, it wasn't like Ed could do anything about it if he had been hurting Ling. If anything he'd probably want to gloat if he was anything like Envy (and it seemed like maybe he wasn’t). 

Looking back, Ling hadn't seemed that bad off at the cabin. Sure he'd collapsed, but he just kind of did that sometimes. He'd bounced right back after eating, just like he had back in Rush Valley, and Central, and Gluttony's stomach. Greed kept complaining about Ling being annoying, but now that Ed was a few more steps away from panic he realized there had been a hint of fondness in his voice as he did so. And, well. Ed could understand finding Ling extremely irritating in an endearing sort of way.

“What’s your guys’ deal anyway?” Greed interrupted Ed's thoughts.

“Our–What?”

Greed waved a hand impatiently. “You know, you’re obsessed with each other. First Ling was all ‘Stop fighting Ed, you might hurt him. No I can’t tell you where Lan Fan is, you have to find Ed and give him the message. I wonder where Ed is. I hope Ed’s okay. Hey, we should totally join Ed’s stupid little group and wander through the woods together!’ And now you won’t stop creepy staring at my face and you’re having some kinda breakdown over the idea that he might possibly be unhappy. It’s weird.”

“Ling didn’t tell you?” Ed tried not to let himself feel too hurt by that. There could be lots of reasons for Ling to keep their relationship to himself. Even if he was apparently talking to Greed all the time, there must be a good reason he never brought up Ed in the months they'd been apart.

“No! He won’t shut up about anything else. Yapping on and on about Xing, and his clan, and Lan Fan and Fu, and he mentions you constantly, but every time I ask about you he says it’s none of my business. Can you believe that? He’s my possession, his business is my business! Not to mention he’s thinking about it inside my brain, which makes it double my business.”

That made a certain kind of sense. It was probably hard having any privacy while sharing your body with another person, so of course Ling might want to keep something to himself. And, Ed remembered, Greed's stupid speech about wanting everything rather pointedly included women. He maybe wouldn't appreciate the fact that his new body’s owner was dating a man when he himself was aggressively straight.

“If Ling says it's none of your business then it's none of your business.” Even if Ed didn't love being kept a secret, he wouldn't betray Ling by giving out information he wanted to keep private.

“Ugh, come on!” Greed whined, flopping back dramatically to lay on the ground. “I'm the one in charge here and still no one tells me anything. You even looked all sad about me not knowing, and yet you're not gonna–”

Greed cut himself off mid sentence and sat back up to look at Ed.

“Your boyfriend?” 

Somehow Ed got the idea the question wasn't for him even though Greed was staring right at him.

A grin grew slowly across Greed's face.

“Our boyfriend.”

The hell did that mean?!

SMACK

Before Ed could react, almost faster than his eyes could follow, Greed raised his right hand and slapped himself across the face.

“Ow! What the hell, Ling?” Greed pushed his right hand down by the wrist before reaching up with his left to rub his cheek. “That fucking hurt, you asshole! Why–you know I can't understand the Xingese when you talk that fast. Stop yelling at me!”

“What did you mean by–”

“Give us a minute,” Greed said, holding up a finger in Ed's direction.

“No I will not give you a minute!” Ed yelled. “You can't just say some crap like that then ignore me! Explain what you're talking about right now or I swear I'm gonna…”

Greed was no longer looking at Ed. He was staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused. If Ed had to guess, he'd say the homunculus was so tuned in to whatever argument he was having with Ling he wasn't even hearing Ed anymore. No amount of yelling would help with that, and despite popular belief to the contrary, Ed could recognize a losing battle when he saw one. He just usually chose to fight them anyway.

Ed picked up a twig from the ground and threw it at Greed's face. It bounced off his nose and he blinked, eyes focusing back on Ed with a startled look.

“If you're going to talk about me in front of me, at least have your half of the conversation out loud, would you?”

Greed nodded. “Yeah that's fair.” He shifted his gaze slightly, looking near but not directly at Ed as he continued. “I don't see what the problem is. He's your boyfriend, and you're mine, so it makes sense–yes that is how it works, it's science.”

Ed already wasn't crazy about how this conversation was going. “When you say he's yours–”

“What do you mean we're not dating?” Greed sounded genuinely confused now. “You agreed to share your body with me, and you asked me to rule a country with you! How is that not–Oh, so you can have fifty wives, but two boyfriends is too–”

“He's not gonna have fifty wives,” Ed interrupted. “He's getting rid of–”

“Yeah yeah, we're doing away with that custom, I know.” Greed waved a hand in Ed's direction as he spoke, still looking at nothing as he had been for his whole conversation with Ling, as if responding to both of them at the same time.

“Why are you getting so worked up over this anyway?” Ed asked. “Aren't you straight?”

Greed's eyes snapped to Ed's face, expression scandalized. “Aren't I what?” he gasped, as if this was the most offensive thing anyone had ever said to him.

“Straight?” Ed didn't see what the big deal was, it had seemed like a fair assumption. “You had a whole speech about wanting women or whatever.”

“I'm Greed.” He spoke slowly, as if explaining something obvious that he'd been forced to go over many times. “I want everything. Gender isn't even a factor for me. Honestly I don't get why humans are so obsessed with it. People would get weird sometimes if I mentioned wanting men too, so I stopped saying that part to avoid the hassle. Still, I can't believe I’ve been giving off straight vibes.” He looked down and tugged at his coat. “Maybe it's the outfit? I told his highness he should have let me pick out better clothes. There was this great vest and also these awesome sunglasses I wanted to get, but he wouldn't go for it. Kept bitching about how awful they were until I chose something more simple.”

“Oh yeah, you had something like that the first time I met you. That was such a cool look!” Ed had pretty much hated Greed's guts back in Dublith, but he couldn't deny the man had style.

“Thank you!” Greed threw up his hands. “Ya hear that, Ling? He thinks it's cool too…Hey, don't call me and our boyfriend tacky in the same way, asshole! Huh? Oh, good point.”

Greed turned back to Ed, leaning forward and fixing him with a serious look. “Hey, do you want to date me too, instead of just Ling?”

“Uh…” Ed hesitated, debating for a moment whether the personification of greed would respond well to being denied something he wanted. Then again, Ling wouldn't have had him ask Ed if he thought the reaction would be dangerous. And he had asked, rather than just demanding. “No, not really. I don't even know you.”

Greed sat back with a shrug. “Oh, okay. Was worth a shot.”

“Really? You're cool with me just dating Ling?” Ed had been expecting at least a bit of an argument.

“Well, yeah.” Greed said. “People have to want to be mine, or else what's the point? Kind of sucks that Ling will have something I don't, but that's just the way it'll have to be. You're still my henchman after all, so it's not like you don't belong to me anyway. Besides,” Greed smiled at Ed, “there's plenty of time between now and the promised day for you to get to know me.”

An hour ago Ed would have taken that statement as mocking at best, and maybe as a downright threat. But now that he knew that Ling was not only okay but on good terms with the deadly sin inhabiting his body, and after having what was by his standards a perfectly friendly conversation with the guy, Ed was willing to see it a bit more charitably. Greed's smile was genuine, nothing taunting or creepy in the expression at all. In fact, if there was any similarity between how Ling and Greed showed their emotions, he might be trying to hide a bit of nervousness.

Ed smiled back at Greed. “Yeah, I guess maybe there is,” he said, then laughed when Greed's mouth dropped open in shock. “It’s getting late. I'm gonna get some sleep. Goodnight Greed and goodnight Ling.”

The last thing Ed heard before sleep claimed him was Greed talking quietly as he threw more wood onto the campfire.

Ed got up to find a soft patch of ground to sleep on, only half listening to Greed stumble over his words as he wished him a goodnight from himself and Ling. Ed felt himself drifting off as soon as he laid down, more tired than he'd realized.

“Wow, I didn't think I'd get that far. I'm totally going to show him I'd be the best boyfriend ev–Ling, do not slap me again, you pissant, I swear to god!”

[hauntingblue]

Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

[foxwithapen]

I remember my first time watching Black Friday and feeling really confused but it's like every time I watch it I love it more and more. It's so I just love it so much.

Anyways my favorite characters are Wilbur Cross, John Macnamara, and Howard Goodman and I think they should all be gay together. Anyways

[brown-spider]

If I had a nickel for everytime my hetero otp ended up actually being canon but still gets treated EXACTLY like a rarepair, I'd have 2 nickels

[orykorioart]

Old Sweet Flips sketch from June 2021 to celebrate TAZ Sapphic week beginning later this week :3c

[clownboymcchucklefuck]

Is ao3 a good fanfiction site or was i just on the Danganronpa side of it

[lovely-blue-galaxy]

@insertsickusername13​ ‘s prompt for some time ago, I think it was something along the lines of “Christine and Jeremy at prom with Christine in a beautiful dress and Jeremy in hawaiian shirt”

[blazingstarship]

I made this yesterday cause I have to work today till 5:30 pm. But wanted to do this for so long, making chocolate and I have to say…Im surprised how it turned out like in a good way! If this isnt love idk what is.

[waywardsalt]

oc x canon is so fun. creating the right little guy for my blorbo

[cranehusbands]

the sharp end of a dull blade

felix hugo fraldarius/hubert von vestra; canon compliant; white clouds; pre-relationship, realisation of feelings; one-sided(?); no cws. 2791 words

a/n: yippee i did it. after realising im a little sleepy bitch and not wanting to fight my wifi to post, i ended up going from seven fics to four and im saving one of my original plots for edelgard rarepair week at the end of july so. we stay silly. happy fire emblem everybody

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated!

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

“Do you think there is any merit to his incessant exclamations?” 

The question posed to Hubert was one he should have answered quickly as assuredly, as he did with most everything else. This time, however, it had been a query that did not, in fact, register to him as anything more than white noise. Hands behind his back, stood in the shadows of the training grounds as if the sun would burn the flesh from his bones, the mage was enraptured by the scene before him. It was like some wanton war dance, watching two bodies go back and forth in training, at something of a constant near stalemate, though it was clear to most anyone who was winning. The two artists in question were as different from each other as one could conjure; the first was Ferdinand von Aegir, the irritating, annoying pest that he was, hair sticking to his forehead as he grinned through exhaustive breaths. The second, and clearly not struggling as much to keep up with a constant barrage of strength and speed, was Felix Hugo Fraldarius, a future duke from the Kingdom, armed with his sword and a stern expression. For every time Ferdinand launched an attack toward the boy, Felix parried with ease; and every time Felix took advantage of Ferdinand’s momentary weakness, it was a wonder he wasn’t knocked over onto his behind. His eyes narrowed, watching Ferdinand swing to the side at a rather wide angle in some grandiose, but predictable, sweeping motion, giving Felix enough time to jump back before striking just at the base of his opponent’s ribs in a fierce jab, the blow finally strong enough to knock the wind out of Ferdinand’s metaphorical sails, and more literally to the floor, with a loud and rather surprised cry.

The win of their little duel had been decided the moment it had been proposed. While a talented lance man- a compliment Hubert would take to his grave, for he suspected if Ferdinand knew his training was being both observed and praised, no one would hear the end of it- he was simply too far outmatched in this particular duel. Though lithe and of shorter stature, Felix carried strength in all the correct places, his sword an extension of himself and that power rather than some glorified flagpole to wave around. His weapon struck true at every opportunity it could, and remained reigned and close enough to defend himself when there was none. He was a burning flame, patient, powerful and well-trained for now, but he had the capacity to burn brighter, and faster, and wilder still- perhaps, if he were not from Faerghus, he could make a fine addition to the Imperial army- 

“Hubert? Are you listening to me?”

Hubert blinked himself out of his trance, watching as Ferdinand pushed himself to his feet with a gleeful, too-loud laugh, looking to Edelgard stood at his side. The two of them had taken refuge in the shade, together, at the insistence of the future prime minister (“I want the both of you to witness my might and resolve!” he had said, stupidly, with that stupid smile on his face). That was the only reason he had ventured out here at all. 

He gripped onto his wrist behind his back tighter, silently admonishing himself for such a childish display of distraction. “I… apologise, Lady Edelgard.”

The young woman raised an eyebrow up at him, apparently disregarding his shame and simply repeating herself instead. “I was asking about Ferdinand.”

“And what of him?”

“Do you think his claims hold any merit- about his ability to surpass me?”

Hubert ran his tongue alongside the back of his teeth in minor vexation. He knew of what she spoke- after all, it was harder to not hear of such assertions, spoken so assuredly as if they were already true, despite how inexcusable, childish, and overall- incredibly, undeniably wrong they were. But more importantly, he understood her true meaning. They were, after all, so close to seeing their plan to fruition. She wanted to know if this was going to be a threat- if someone such as Ferdinand could undo most everything they had worked hard to achieve. Such a thought could have made him laugh out loud, but Hubert kept himself measured and schooled with ease. “Absolutely not.”

Edelgard hummed, as if this was the answer she expected, looking back out to the training grounds again. “And has anyone else caught your attention?”

The mage paused, glancing down at the floor to consider for a moment. He knew exactly what she meant by such a statement, and had no interest in sabotaging their plans for the future by asking for clarification. Through his bangs, he was slow to meet the slender form of the swordsman he was just observing, cleaning his training blade and trying to pretend his opponent was not there, begging for a rematch. “...Perhaps so.”

The day continued on quickly, soon turning to night. And, just like most other nights, Hubert did not find sleep easy. Years spent watching over his charge, in case the night decided to be cruel to her, in combination with his own afflictions of paranoia, meant that the night was not for rest. It was instead meant for keeping busy, be it in his own experiments or other various machinations not known to his classmates or even his lady whom he served so loyally- dealing with problematic elements that may get in the way of their plans for the future, such as enemies within the school and faculty, or those who simply knew too much, as well as seeking out any possible sympathetic individuals. Edelgard doubted their professor’s loyalty- Hubert needed to make sure to pad out their armies for the oncoming war as much as possible. That was the excuse he used to return to the training grounds, lamenting where his feet had taken him as the moon hung over him like an ever present watcher, full of ire as he stared at the door. Just what was he hoping to find there? A glimpse of that same fire he had seen in the afternoon, flickering and burning just as it was then, now all for himself? Hubert growled to himself as he pushed through the door with both hands-

-And the fire still flickered, just as he had dared to hoped it would.

Felix did not turn to face him as he entered the training grounds, despite the loud groaning of the old doors, continuing with the repetitive swing of the sword he once again held, or perhaps never put down again. He was still in the training grounds by the time Hubert had left with Edelgard and Ferdinand for lunch, already taking a new challenger after all attempts his last one made to gain a rematch had failed (as they had been thoroughly ignored, with admirable decorum), so he did not doubt the boy had remained throughout the afternoon late into the evening, that had swiftly become night.

The mage kept his arms behind his back, watching with mild interest at the strength Felix carried in his movements, how his shoulders moved and strained beneath his uniform with the swiftness of the weapon cutting through the cool midnight air, almost as efficiently as any well trained soldier. He really would make a fine general. If only he was to fight on the right side of history, then such skill would not be put to waste. 

There was a moment or two more, where the wind was cut in two, before the movements stopped and Felix straightened his posture. A sigh left him, annoyed and heavy, before he lowered his sword to turn with a glower, just enough to shoot it in the other man’s direction. “You. What do you want?”

Hubert did not know. He lied anyway. “I came to watch you train. Is that an issue?”

“You watched me enough this afternoon. What more could there possibly be to see?”

Behind his back, he flexed a hand, with a gentle hum of acknowledgement as Felix fully turned to face him, stance defensive (though not fearful, or even apprehensive, as many other students would be, if they were to face the mage this late into the night) and sword still in hand. “There’s no gauge for ‘enough’, with things of this nature.”

“Fighting is not a spectator sport.” He had little patience for most people, and Hubert was not exempt from such a rule. “Either you pick up a weapon and duel me, or you leave.”

There was something of a subtle grimace that passed over the mage’s features, there and gone just as quickly, at such behaviour- though, such inhospitality could hardly be criticised, especially by him, a man whose few conversations began and ended with his devotion and his purpose, but never himself. It wasn't as if he considered Felix’s sentiments to be wrong, either- time was a precious and finite commodity, and needed to be used wisely, whether it be for training for an unspecified purpose or following the whims of a woman meant for greater things. 

Hubert’s eyes moved over to the rack of weapons towards the back, to the sword and axes and lances maintained to perfection. He has not picked up such a martial thing in many years, not since he was a small, stupid and weak boy of barely seven, attempting to try and wield a lance far too big for his tiny, frail form, in some futile attempt to follow a nonsensical pipe dream of becoming a pegasus knight. This, of course, had been before he'd had the sense knocked into him, metaphorically and literally, and the idea that he was anything more than an extension of his lady’s will of change was snuffed out soon after. His attention had been turned to magic after that, and it had served his purposes far better than a weapon of traditional means ever would. Still… even despite himself, he found himself considering it once more, a feeling stirring in him that hadn't been there since he could remember. 

Hubert looked back to Felix, still staring at him expectantly, standing entirely still. “...I am hardly the strong opponent you seek.”

There was a hum of consideration, as the mage was observed again, eyes sweeping up and down, as if evaluating the worth of facing an adversary that wouldn't advance his battle prowess. It was odd to watch, the sweeping of feelings in subtle changes in features, from disinterest to curiosity to want- want, Hubert thought with some bitter amusement- before Felix spoke again. “...I don't care. Now arm yourself, or leave me be.”

He considered the swordsman for a moment, as he turned away once more, assuming the same position as before, as if expecting the door to the training grounds to open and close again. Hubert ground his teeth for a moment, biting down to stop an unnecessary errant comment, still holding onto the feeling that recalling a time before his vassalage, and the feeling of being wanted, if only for a moment, and only for a purpose. He swallowed, pausing for a moment more, before striding past Felix towards the weapon rack, and unsheathing a wooden lance, the weight unfamiliar in his hands. 

And for a moment, he swore he saw the beginnings of a smile on Felix’s face. 

Such joy, however, did not last long. Like Hubert had said, he was not strong with a lance, not experienced in such a field. Though he held the advantage of height over his opponent, it was a factor that hardly mattered at all- Felix just had too much strength and ferocity for Hubert to block and, much like the bout he’d witnessed earlier in the afternoon, his own swings with the lance were too wide and too sloppy, easily being dodged out of the way like passing wind His anger at his own inadequacy only made this problem worse, too, especially with the off-handed comments about his technique that we're spoken so assuredly, as if they were wanted or asked for. If this had been a match between the sword and his magic, perhaps it could have been more evenly matched- a manipulation of Mire, maybe, to make the terrain temporarily difficult, or make movements more sluggish. But even then, the assault was relentless, and the margin for victory was only slightly more open, if the mage was able to use the tools he was more comfortable with. 

Even in the cold air of the evening, he could feel his shirt sticking to the back of his neck from the sweat of exertion. His lungs felt like they were on fire, though not more ablaze than the man in front of him, caught in the rush of the fight as he went for another swing to the side. Hubert barely had time to block with the length of his lance, but by then, it was already too late- the end of the sword jabbed into his ribs, sucking the air out of his lungs as he stumbled backwards, the world around him going white for a moment as he fell backwards.

The lance clattered to the floor, unceremoniously landing a foot or so in front of him as he joined it with a sharp intake of breath, fire shooting up his spine at the pain of his tailbone hitting the dirt. Hubert gritted his teeth into a grimace, before he growled, hair hiding his face in his embarrassment, "This is useless, and a waste of my time.”

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

The mage gave a huff of indignation, as his eyes shot up again in a glare. “Now why, pray tell, would I not be taking this seriously? You were the one who insisted I stayed, and I obliged, in a way I now see was a regrettable decision, so I ask that you don’t speak of this to anyone and-”

His ramblings were cut short by the feeling of the training lance hitting his foot. Hubert glanced up, assuming from posture that Felix had kicked the weapon over to him again.

“…What are you doing?”

“Pick it up.”

“What? No, this is absurd, and pointless. Now if you don’t mind-”

The end of the blade (not sharp, but the formation of the weapon tricked his brain into thinking as much for a second or two) pressed against his throat, just under his chin, bringing the mage to disconcerting silence and stillness. Hubert looked up again at the future duke, amber eyes narrowed in a mix of discontent and curiosity, but most importantly a hunger- to fight or to teach, he could not surmise.

“You aren’t a lost cause, mage. Your lancework needs improvement, but it isn't hopeless. Now pick up your weapon and fight me.”

His throat bobbed in a swallow against the dull point of the training sword, unable to take his eyes off Felix standing over him, barely breaking a sweat from their fight, and a star as cool as steel. If this were a battlefield, if that had been a real sword, Hubert may have delighted in the thrill of having the weapon pressed further into his skin, where blood more than likely would have begun to trickle from a superficial wound, dripping down the lines of his throat and into his shirt. He may even dare to delight in it now, staring up at a face of power and irritation. 

Lady Edelgard needed strong soldiers- powerful soldiers, willing to fight until their dying breath. Felix’s loyalty could not be spoken for, but he was certainly discontented with his position within the Kingdom. If that discontent could be twisted, moulded into something new if the fire could be tamed, it could burn even brighter on new coals. And, perhaps, this was something selfish as well, if Hubert could allow himself that. If he could allow himself a want, to see this wild thing grow into himself and his craft, with the right force at his back to guide his sword. If he could allow himself to want to be that guide, if only to keep the man close to him. If he could allow himself to simply want a man, one as strong and as stubborn and as worthy as the one in front of him, goading him on with naught but a narrowing of his eyes.

Never tearing his gaze away, Hubert reached by his foot, and once more grabbed the lance in a grip tight enough for it to show. If only to watch Felix huff a laugh and pull his sword away to prepare for another round, stoking a fire within himself.

[dirt-str1der]

1998 trigun literally wins because i was terrified that it would only be stampede and i was preemptively crying and hugging myself then the haul

[hauntingblue]

The combo of York and the seraphim is too cute... they are getting their asses handed to them by cutie pies

[yunhoszn]

save a horse, ride a cowboy

PAIRING jeong yunho x f!reader

WORD COUNT 12.25k

GENRES fluff﹒angst﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, reader is a city girl but i tried not using too many gendered terms, cowboy!yunho RAHHHHH, mentions of food, reader has a boyfriend for most of the fic (an oc) but there’s no real infidelity, reader embarrasses themselves on what i’d say is a few occasions too many, yunho is down bad, masturbation (m! and brief f! receiving), lowkey voyeurism, a really bad dad joke, horse riding scene bc i feel that’s pivotal for a cowboy fic, lots and lots of kissing, marking, teasing, vaginal fingering x2, oral sex (f! receiving) x2, multiple orgasms, very slight edging, praise, pet names (baby, babe, and princess oops), unprotected sex (BE SAFE PLS I BEG), cowgirl position, pull out method, missionary position, creampie lol, ending is cute but also kinda up for interpretation? i guess <3

SUMMARY when your grandparents decided to retire and take a summer’s long vacation in celebration, they leave their house in your care. at least you don’t have to worry about feeding the farm animals. but you do have to worry about the tall, handsome cowboy who does.

MORE AND SHE’S DONE oh my god, this fic actually pulled so much out of me i think i was the one seeing stars by the end.. 😭 but i’m so proud of it and the goals i tried meeting while writing. first of all the length??? insane for me. i can hardly get myself to write anything longer thank 5k 😞 THATS ENOUGH ABOUT ME THO,,, this fic was heavily inspired by the django performance if u couldn’t tell by the banner 😝 and i’d first like to thank the academy aka @kimsohn for encouraging me to write this and fueling my delusions ilysm maya <3 i’d also like to give a huge thank u to @bro-atz TYSM FOR BETAING AND HELPING WITH SCENES BRO ur my life saver fr <3 PLS PLS PLS REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!!

Growing up, you weren’t the biggest fan of trips to your grandparents’ farm in the rural countryside. 

You were born in a big city, full of all the glitz and glam. There were bright lights that lit the skyline at night, distracting from the stars that illuminated above. The wide open space was blocked by high towers and large skyscrapers. You were accustomed to the sound of bustling pedestrians and the obnoxious honking of cars in the streets. There was seldom an evening of complete silence. 

Everything was so tightly packed together, within walking distance if you didn’t feel like hopping in a car for a fifteen minute drive. You appreciated the insanity of the train station in the mornings before school, the metro so busy with students and working class individuals. You came into contact with numerous strangers throughout your day to day life. 

However, every summer until you were a senior in high school was a different story. 

Your parents wanted to keep you humble, you supposed, shipping you off to your grandparents’ for three months. Living in the city kept people too sheltered, too primped and polished for the real world. They wanted you to have that exposure, to experience what it was like to live without the fanciness of urbanization. The nine months out of the year that you spent in the city stunted that exposure, though.

When you’d arrive at their farm, luggage stacked like you were taking a trip to London or Paris, you felt like a glorified version of Regina George. Maybe Blair Waldorf. Elle Woods? You weren’t even rich like that. Your parents were nice, middle class people. There was just something about cow manure and the fear of stepping on a freshly laid egg that made it difficult to adjust to the setting.

It was most likely your stubbornness throughout your childhood that held you back even as you got older and more educated. You thought after graduating high school, the three-months-long “retreat” would come to an end. You’d only need to visit when necessary, maybe a week max. And that was true to an extent. During your university years, you only visited the farm around once a year. You were too consumed with school to even go home sometimes. 

And then your grandparents decided to retire. 

Their farm had supplied the town over with produce and other home-grown items for as long as you could remember. But they were getting older and no one in the family was willing to inherit the farm or its responsibilities. In celebration of their retirement, they planned a grand vacation to visit multiple countries. Their itinerary spanned an entire summer, just like your trips to the farm when you were younger.

Because you were the only one familiar enough with the area, they enlisted you to housesit while they were gone. You tried to get out of it, but they didn’t trust anyone else as much as you, despite your convictions about country life. So you reluctantly agreed, packing up your things to prepare for another grueling summer at the farm one last time. 

But there was a bit of a setback.

”What do you mean someone’s living in the farmhouse behind their house?” You shriek into the receiver, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear as you zip up your final bag. Your mom sighs on the other end.

”Your grandma just only now told me, apparently it slipped her mind,” you can hear the sympathy in her tone. “He’s this boy who grew up in the town and he’s gonna take over the farm for them on the condition that they still live on the property. She said he shouldn’t get in your way and he’s expecting your presence. You’ll only see him if you ever actually go out to the farm and when he brings groceries to the house.”

”Great. Another thing I didn’t sign up for.” You mutter, giving your bedroom a once over to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. “Is there anything else I should know before I get there, like a secret pet or maybe a family living in the attic?”

”Watch the attitude, Y/N,” she warns, and you shut up immediately. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. You’re a grown adult and you’d rather spend your summer going out with your friends, but you already told your grandparents you would do this for them. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You sigh, nodding even though she can’t see it. At least you didn’t have to worry about caring for their farm animals. It was time to think of this as a staycation rather than torture. Sure, your friends were going to be living it up in the Bahamas for a week and your boyfriend was going to be here while you were surrounded by nothing but flat landscape for acres. 

Perhaps it was good for you that there would be someone else on the property. You might’ve started to feel scared being alone in the middle of nowhere for so long. Though, your boyfriend probably won’t be the biggest fan of you staying within the vicinity of another man for three months. You’d just deal with that later. 

The drive to your grandparents’ farm is actually more peaceful than anything else. Driving for long periods of time wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but doing it by yourself with nothing but your music filling your ears was a sort of therapy. It allowed you to come to terms with your fate for the summer and what it could entail, even if it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. 

Seeing the lush greenery for miles upon miles as you neared their home evoked a sense of tranquility within you. If you kept a positive outlook on your situation, you would make it through these next few months unscathed and your sanity still intact. Maybe you despised the wide open space for years when you were a kid, but now that you’re an adult, you think you could learn to appreciate it and its beauty. 

As long as the guy living in the farmhouse didn’t bother you like your grandmother said, everything would be—

Oh. 

You pull up in front of the house, already thrown for a loop by the tall, very handsome stranger walking his dog back from the mailbox. His dark hair obscured his eyes, a bandana tied around his neck to match with the one hanging off the Border Collie’s collar. The two turn around at the sound of your engine, stopping in their tracks once you’ve parked. 

He brings a hand up to shield the sun from his eyes, watching cautiously as you park slowly. You don’t know why you’re so anxious, it’s not like you’ll be interacting with him much during your stay anyways. There’s something about his slender figure and the fact that he was so clearly dedicated to what he does upon first glance that it makes you feel shy. You suck in a sharp breath before deciding to exit your vehicle, wiping clammy palms on your denim shorts. You’re starting to regret not dressing a little cuter, a little more presentable. 

His features soften upon recognizing you, the pretty granddaughter that your grandparents showed him prior to leaving for their trip. The hand sheltering his face falls to his side and he gives you a warm smile, somehow warmer and brighter than the sweltering summer sun. You’d always been told not to talk to strangers, to keep your distance for your own safety, but you can’t help mirroring his expression with a small wave. 

“H-Hi,” your voice wobbles and you kind of want to die just a bit. “I’m Y/N. My grandparents mentioned you lived in the farmhouse out back, but didn’t give me a name or face to expect.”

He extends his arm out and you shake his hand, albeit slightly nervously. His eyes squint when he glances between you and his dog. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Yunho, and this is Yeoreum.”

The name is fitting for the red and white colored Border Collie, her tongue sticking out as she stares up at you with big eyes that almost resemble her owner’s. You bend down to pet her, patting the soft tufts of fur on her head and appreciating her licks of excitement. Yunho laughs, whistling to catch her attention. 

“Yunho and Yeoreum,” you repeat, a tiny grin on your face. “Befitting. Does she come with the property?”

“Unfortunately, no. She’s spoken for,” he teases, a pout on his features. “But she can visit whenever you’d like. Jokes aside, did you need any help moving stuff into the house?”

”That would be great, actually!” You scratch the back of your neck, lips pursing. Yunho waits for you to unlock the trunk of your car and places Yeoreum’s leash in your possession, making quick work transporting your bags inside. What was just supposed to be some light assistance, has evidently become him doing everything on his own while you stand and look pretty with his dog.

You didn’t bring too much with you since you didn’t have plans to leave while you were housesitting and your grandparents weren’t so old fashioned that they didn’t have a washing machine. Still, you felt useless allowing this stranger you’d just met to do all this manual labor on your behalf.

”Does he always do this?” You murmur to the Border Collie, falling to a seat on the lowest front porch step. She doesn’t give you a response (not that you expected her to), but pants happily in lieu of one, craning her head so you can scratch the spot behind her ear. 

“You’re a guest, it’s just good hospitality for me to help.” Yunho says as he comes out of the house, stationing himself in front of you with his hands on his hips, thumbs in his belt loops. 

“There’s a difference between helping and doing the work yourself. You’re just being modest,” you push yourself up to hand him Yeoreum’s leash. “But thank you anyway, that was really nice. I’m so tired from driving up here, so I think I would’ve collapsed doing all that back and forth.”

”You should go rest,” he glances at the house behind you. “There’s a whole three months of farm life ahead of you, so don’t wear your pretty little self out just yet.”

Yunho salutes to you and takes his leave, walking around your grandparents’ house toward what you assume is the farmhouse. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks feel hot, and you’re well aware that it’s not because of the summer heat. Your fingers clutch at the material of your t-shirt and you shake it to fan yourself. 

It seemed like you were in for a bumpy ride these next few months. But like you reiterated prior to arriving, everything would be just fine so long as you and farm boy went your separate routes and lived your separate lives. 

Yeah. Things would be alright. You hope. 

It’s a week into your stay on your grandparents’ farm when you bump into Yunho again. 

You’re toweling your neck after getting out of the shower, heading into the kitchen to make yourself another bowl of cereal for breakfast. So far the only downside has been your inability to cook a decent meal. Takeout or your boyfriend sleeping over were usually your saving grace, but without having either of those options, you’ve stuck to microwaveable things.

The sight of Yunho unloading groceries onto the counter has you squealing and nearly jumping out of your own skin. He flinches at your volume, knocking over the bag of rice resting against the vase in the center. Thankfully it was still sealed shut, if not there would’ve been a mess of rice grains all over the island counter. His clumsiness has you slapping a palm over your mouth to silence your giggles, not wanting to embarrass him.

”Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” You apologize sheepishly, folding your towel over your arm and placing it on a barstool nearby. 

“N-No, you’re fine! I shouldn’t have just let myself in, it’s kinda just a habit. You deserve your privacy without having to worry about whether or not I’m gonna barge in unannounced.” He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand. “I’ll just put these up for you and then I’ll be on my way.”

”Can I help?” You waddle over to him, fingers laced behind your back. “I’d feel bad watching you put my groceries away for me after going out and getting them.”

Yunho gestures for you to occupy the space beside him with a small smile that takes solace at the corner of his mouth. The two of you do everything in complete silence, still not entirely used to each other’s presence because of the lack of crossing paths. As you’re finishing up, you start grabbing the items you need for your cereal. He raises an eyebrow at you.

”You don’t want something a little more filling?” He suddenly questions, jutting his chin at your bowl.

”I would love that if I knew how to cook,” you laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? The granddaughter of two farmers can’t cook to save their life.”

Yunho shakes his head with a chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Well, I don’t have to feed the horses for another hour if you’d like for me to whip up something better than a bowl of cereal.” 

“Really?” Your eyebrows furrow. Despite growing up with the mindset that you were above the farm life your grandparents tried to impose on you, you hated feeling like you were coming across as entitled. You didn’t want Yunho to think you were lazy or that you were too good. “You don’t have to do that. I can survive on instant ramen and cereal, I swear.”

”Y/N,” he says your name with a certain authority to it, and you’ve never loved the sound of your name coming out of someone else’s mouth so much before. “I want to. I’m not the world’s greatest chef or anything, but I have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”

”Okay, then,” you nod, taking a seat at the island. You watch in awe as he dances around the kitchen and prepares something for you. It’s weird, not in the sense that you feel awkward around this complete stranger, but because you feel the opposite. You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him for a while. It’s almost like Yunho has been a casual part of your life for much longer than a week. He’s easy to get along with, easy to mold into what you’re used to.

And that’s weird because you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who cooks dinner for you most nights, but somehow has never made you feel this taken care of. It throws you off. That should definitely not be the case. How is this man doing this in one week and your boyfriend couldn’t in two years? 

The guilt settles in the pit of your stomach quickly. Sure, your boyfriend might’ve had a habit of forgetting important dates and didn’t give you half as much attention as he should’ve, but did that warrant the emotions brewing in your chest? Could that excuse this notion that maybe it was time to finally call it quits?

You zone out as Yunho finishes cooking your breakfast, too inside of your head to even fawn over the doting and slight coddling he was doing. Maybe you need to have a long conversation with Seojun about your relationship and where you want it to go. Perhaps it was a nice idea to invite him out to visit the farm, it could do you both some good. 

“Ta-da!” Yunho holds out a plate to you, the sparkle in his eyes effectively pushing out any thoughts of your boyfriend and the shame that was picking at you. You can’t help but reciprocate his expression when you see how delicious the food looks.

He’d made you omurice, the ketchup on top in cute squiggly lines to form whiskers and a little dog face. You accept the plate gratifyingly, your fingers brushing as you do so. He smiles shyly, eyeing you carefully while you take the first bite. You don’t remember the last time you had a home cooked breakfast, accustomed to the occasional muffin at the coffee shop near your house.

”’Not the world’s greatest chef’ my ass,” you grumble, pouting at his humbleness and his inability to be bad at anything. “I might just ask you to have breakfast with me every morning if you can chef it up this well.”

That melodic laugh of his rings in your ears, his elbows resting on the island and his chin in his palms. “I’m sure Yeoreum would appreciate a companion who isn’t me.”

“How long have you had her?” You ask, shoveling more omurice into your mouth. If you weren’t so hungry and so appeased by how delicious it was, you’d feel bad for ruining his hard work. The ketchup no longer looked like a dog, but rather a splatter of red all over your plate. 

“Almost four years now. I had her for a year before I met your grandparents. She adores them, so it’s no surprise that she likes you too.” He has this fond gaze in his eyes as he talks about his beloved Border Collie and it makes your heart ache. 

The fact that he has such a good relationship with your grandparents seals the deal for you. Well, it would seal the deal if you were single. Yunho is like the ideal man that every parent would want their daughter to bring home. He knows how to cook, knows how to clean. He’s adept around the house, skilled in yard work and other random jobs like fixing leaky pipes and installing new appliances. He’s gentle, but doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. 

Your parents would never meet him, though. After the summer was over, you’d be back in Seoul and he would still be here, a distant memory. You forcibly laugh away the thought, excusing it as your response to his words and continuing the conversation about his dog. 

Perhaps this stay would be harder to get through than you thought. 

As the weeks pass you by, you find yourself becoming more and more infatuated with Jeong Yunho.

Cooking breakfast for you in the morning has become a regular thing. Monitoring him at the stove with sleepy eyes and a mug of fresh coffee in your hands has ingrained itself into your routine. Yeoreum called the spot beneath your stool her own now, laying there as her owner made your food. You think the transition from seeing him as just this comforting presence, this kind individual, to wanting something more was almost too smooth.

Especially right now as you sit on the back porch sipping on some lemonade, admiring the cowboy as he transfers bales of hay from the bed of his pickup truck to the pigpen and the cattle pen. He pauses in between trips, stripping off his flannel and tying it around his waist. He lifts the hem of the white tank top he’s wearing and uses it to wipe sweat from his forehead, revealing the toned abdomen he had been hiding from you up until now. 

You feel like you’re going insane, trying to pretend like you’re reading your book as you not so subtly gawk at his muscles straining with each bale he lifts. It’s crazy really, the effect he has on you doing his fucking job. You’ve made it a habit to sit out here and stare at him under the guise of various other things. Aside from being borderline obsessive, it’s horrible because you’re still very much in a relationship.

Most people would feel a hell of a lot worse than you do, like their entire world was crumbling between their fingertips just for finding someone else attractive. But for some reason, as time has continued to roll on, that guilt— that self-preservation— has faded. You’re dipping into another emotion that you’re too scared to explore. 

Yunho takes a break from his labor to guzzle down a bottle of water, his chest heaving up and down from exertion. Had you been paying attention to anything other than the view of the handsome man, you would’ve noticed the glass sliding out of your grasp, the condensation becoming far too dense to keep a solid grip on the cup. In the midst of drooling over him, your lemonade falls to the ground with a loud clanging noise.

Your reflexes are only swift enough to save your book, but the drink spills everywhere else and you wince at how embarrassing the situation is. You hurry inside to grab a towel before he can see the mortification enveloping your features. He seemed like the observant type, like one scan of your face could tell him everything he needs to know without a single word exchanged. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, blowing a raspberry while you attempt to regulate your blood pressure.

Through the window above the kitchen sink, you make out a confused Yunho, brows furrowed as he looks in the direction of the house. He worried over you entirely too much, particularly when you take into account the fact that all you did was think about him in manners not necessarily safe for work. Maybe you were just delirious. That was the only logical explanation for why you’re spiraling.

The high temperatures of the summer coupled with your surroundings are contributing to your change in behavior. Yes. That made sense. You weren’t crazy.

With a bit more reprieve, you’re able to grab a tea towel and head back outside to clean up your mess. (Not unaccompanied by a couple glances in Yunho’s direction, but that’s fine. Perfectly healthy even. It’s normal to check up on a friend. At least, that’s what you tell yourself, but who’s holding you accountable?)

“You know you’ve been making me breakfast every morning without asking for anything in return,” you speak up one morning, chin resting on the island. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?” 

Yunho purses his lips as he hands you your plate. “Nah, I like cooking for you.”

You try to ignore the way that has your heart fluttering in your chest, try to ignore the warmth blooming beneath your skin. Your eyes glance down at your food to avoid eye contact, bringing your chopsticks up to your lips. “Okay, well I wanna do something for you.”

Despite mumbling the words, he hears you anyway and smiles to himself as he takes a sip from his mug. He rolls up the sleeves of his denim button up, reaching down to scratch behind Yeoreum’s ear, the area that you’ve learned is her favorite. She pants joyfully, jumping on his leg excitedly. He looks between the two of you.

”Missy here needs a bath,” he says, cooing at her. “I was gonna give her one later, after I cleaned out the stables, but if you don’t mind doing it.”

”I’d do just about anything for that precious girl,” you nod enthusiastically. “Consider it done.”

This is how you end up out back, dog shampoo in one hand and the water hose in the other. 

Yeoreum’s signature bandana and collar lay on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, the dog looking so different without her accessories as you prepare to bathe her. You wet her fur generously, squeezing enough shampoo into your palm to lather it on. Compared to your childhood pets, she’s pretty well behaved.

She’s probably one of the only dogs who’s ever actually enjoyed taking a bath, sitting still for you while you scrub and rinse and repeat. You take your time with cleaning her, wanting to make sure you do your best as a thank you for every plate Yunho has ever made you. Usually, this isn’t something you would jump at the opportunity to do. Somehow, being back at the farm this past month or so has done everything your parents tried to do when you were younger.

It could’ve had to do with the desensitization of being here every summer for so long that it just never stuck when you were grade school age. But now, fully grown and experiencing this all over again on your own, with new faces at your side, it’s like you’re being exposed to something different. You can see why your mom and dad didn’t want the city life to become a dependency. 

You preferred the view of cabs and cafés over cows and chickens in the past, but now you found a sense of familiarity in them. You’d always want to go home as soon as you got here. Unlike other kids, you wanted your summer to be over as quickly as possible. You couldn’t imagine going home after this, though. This unveiled attachment to the farm you detested when you were younger could only be accredited to one person, and it was a little frightening. 

He constantly brought out parts of you that you didn’t know existed. This enigma, the one that emphasized how big of a role he’s fulfilling in the short period of time you’ve been here, drills itself into your brain every day. You knew you had to acknowledge it sooner or later, but it was just less of a hassle to act like it wasn’t screaming at you. Your fear of change was a more pertinent issue to ignore, so you let it consume all else. 

While getting lost in your thoughts, Yeoreum starts shaking and startles you, causing your hold on the hose to loosen, water spraying everywhere. The diversion has you losing your footing and slipping in the mud. You shriek, though it does nothing to block the stream that drenches you, your clothes getting wet. The universe decides it’s not on your side, because you happened to wear a white shirt. Why you chose to do that when you knew you were bathing a dog, you have no clue, but it was a little too late for regrets.

Yeoreum jumps out of the basin you had her in and runs to the farmhouse just as Yunho’s walking out, fresh from the shower. You forgot that he was cleaning the stables at the same time you were giving the Border Collie her bath, but now you’re starting to wish you waited until afterward just in case you needed the assistance. And well, you definitely needed the assistance. 

Plucking the tail end of the mishap, Yunho’s initial reaction is to laugh at your misfortune, but the closer he gets to the scene, the laughter dies out in his throat. Your top is sheer enough that he can map out the outline of your black bra. It leaves very little to the imagination and he thinks he might fall to his knees right here.

Since your grandparents told him that you’d be house sitting while they were away and proudly showcased a photo of you, he’s been enthralled by you. You had the face of an angel, or maybe a really enticing demon, he hasn’t cogitated it much yet. 

He swallows thickly, hoping to keep his composure as he makes his way to you. His hand is a little shaky when it reaches to take the hose from you, squeezing his eyes closed and switching off the water. He stays there for a few seconds to mentally prep himself for an up-close-and-personal look at you, even going as far as holding his breath. 

“Uh— you— um— you should go inside and dry off before you catch a cold,” Yunho keeps his eyes cast downward. He’s grateful that you don’t note how red the tips of his ears are, or how he thinks the sky is suddenly much more interesting than your face.

Your head cocks to the side in confusion. “What do you mean ‘before I catch a cold’? It’s, like, a million degrees out.” 

“The temperature drops at night and the sun’s setting soon. I’ll handle it from here. Yeoreum ran off, so I gotta chase after her anyway and I don’t think you want her to soak you more than she already has.” He’s insistent on shooing you away and getting you inside of the house. You huff.

”Okay… If you say so…” 

Reluctantly, you spin around and traverse back. The draft of the air conditioning has you shivering, rubbing up and down your arms as you enter the bathroom to inspect the damage. Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets when you finally see yourself. No wonder Yunho was so adamant on staving you off like you were the plague. 

In your defense, you didn’t think the hose won the battle by that much. You assumed you’d just gotten everything above your shoulders wet, but no. You were practically doused head to toe. And the clear display of your brassiere under your clothes was the last thing on your mind.

He was stronger than you. Actually, he was a more respectful person than you. You would’ve gawked at him shamelessly if the roles were reversed. But at least you’re self aware! Right? The first step in recognizing that you have a problem, is admitting that you have a problem. That’s what you think they say in those addiction commercials, but you could be wrong. 

Wow. Now you were comparing him to drugs. Though, you suppose there isn’t that huge of a difference. Both had equal success rates in terms of getting people high and then making it hard to wane off their effects. 

You really had to quit it with the metaphor usage. 

It’s around midnight that night when the lightbulb in the bathroom goes out, halting you from finishing your bedtime routine. 

You’re exhausted to say the least, face damp from washing it and one of those fuzzy hairbands with the animal ears perched on your head. You were ready to crash out, but there were still a couple things you needed to do before that. It was proving to be a little difficult in the pitch black bathroom. The window above the shower was too narrow to provide any sufficient moonlight.

With a low grumble, you shuffle into your slippers and make the short trek from your grandparents’ house to Yunho in the farmhouse. You hug yourself when a strong breeze blows past, your flimsy t-shirt and sleep shorts doing hardly anything to block the cool summer night’s air. 

A piece of you feels a little bad for bothering him so late, but you have no idea how to change a lightbulb. You don’t even know where the lightbulbs are. Besides, you think you’d electrocute yourself if you made an attempt to do it on your own. 

You huff out a sigh and bring your knuckles up to knock at his door, waiting patiently for a response. He’s not asleep, you know this because he’s mentioned that his internal clock doesn’t turn off until two in the morning. Circadian rhythms were an odd concept, so to each their own. 

“Yunho! It’s Y/N! Open up!”

When a few minutes have passed, you try the knob. Maybe it was a bit… too presumptuous of you to enter his home without explicit permission. Yes, you’d known each other for the better part of a month and a half, and yes, you’d gotten very close in that timeframe, but did that constitute your actions?

Whether or not the answer to that question was a yes or a no, you really wish you would’ve just waited outside. As you venture further in search of the cowboy, you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have. 

Standing in the hallway on the other side of his bedroom, the door ajar at least an inch, you catch a glimpse of him on his bed. That white tank top you’re so used to seeing him in is between his teeth, eyebrows knit together in pure pleasure as he fists his cock with a purpose. His nostrils are flared and whiny moans escape from behind the fabric. 

His head falls back every now and then, eyes fluttering shut when he runs his thumb over the slit. He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice you, too entranced with chasing his high. Your lips part as you watch him fuck up into his hand, his shirt slipping from his mouth when he groans out a curse. 

Just as quickly as you become distracted by the sight of Yunho jerking off, you become aware of what you’re doing. You flee the scene before you get yourself caught, exiting the farmhouse as quietly as you can. The lightbulb can wait until morning, it wasn’t that important, honestly. You’re in a daze the entire walk back to your grandparents house, goosebumps littering your arms and the image of him in such an obscene state burned into your brain. 

You fall backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in hopes of willing away the path your mind is beginning to wander towards. All you can think about is the sight of him so desperate for release, large hand wrapped around his dick, abdomen contracting with need. You know you weren’t supposed to see, weren’t supposed to bear witness to something so personal. 

It’s difficult to push out the nasty, inappropriate thoughts clouding your head. His expressions contorted into absolute bliss. His slender fingers could probably do so much more than your own, could probably reach places you’d never even dreamed of. And fuck, his dick, prettier and bigger than any other you’ve ever seen. 

Your chest blushes with heat, an embarrassment washing over you when you realize you’re turned on. You should feel terrible for intruding on Yunho’s privacy like that, especially without him knowing, but all you can do is want him more than you already do. That craving for something deeper, carnal, fans the flame engulfing you, dragging you further into the sick and twisted hell you’ve created for yourself. 

Yunho has been nothing but welcoming, kind and gentle with you, someone he didn’t even know the name of until last month. Someone who’s done everything in their power to repress this lifestyle for so long. And for some reason, it just comes so easily with him. You don’t feel forced to enjoy living on the farm. He makes you laugh and puts a smile on your face effortlessly. He has you wondering if life can actually be this simple. 

But when all is said and done, there will be somebody else waiting for you back home. Somebody who doesn’t know how to whip up omurice with freshly laid eggs. Somebody who isn’t even a dog person, who thinks pets are nuisances. Somebody who doesn’t live in the farmhouse behind your grandparents’. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

If you touch yourself with tears streaming down your cheeks to the thought of the man who has eyes that resemble the night sky, well that’s between you and whatever higher being exists out there. 

You sit across from Yunho with bated breath, afraid that if you opened your mouth he would know your dirty secret. You avoid his eyes for the same reason, like one good look at you would reveal what you were trying to hide. 

Yunho himself was doing his best to pretend like he hadn’t masturbated to the thought of you last night. He liked to think he was good at keeping his feelings under wraps. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were in a relationship, he’s heard you on the phone before. He stays silent as he fries rice in a pan and has some bread in the toaster. The only sounds in the kitchen are sizzling and the pants coming from Yeoreum under your stool. 

In the time that you’ve been here, never once has it been awkward between you like this. The conversation usually doesn’t stop flowing, rolling on and on and filtering into things that don’t pertain to the original subject. He rarely has his back to you for too long, turning over his shoulder to shoot you a grin every here and now. 

Both of you go to speak at the same time as a means of salvaging the morning from eternal strain. You stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Truly, you were two birds of a feather, or however that saying goes.

”Sorry, I don’t know why I’m being so quiet today,” Yunho says, though he knows it’s a lie. “I guess I had a long night.”

”Oh, that reminds me,” his mention of the previous night has you recalling the reason you went out to the farmhouse in the first place. “The light in my bathroom went out, do you think you can fix it for me?” 

“Yeah, for sure,” he begins preparing your plate. “Actually, I have this joke about lightbulbs. You wanna hear it?”

Your lips curl into a smile, already attempting to hold back your laughter. With a raised eyebrow, you respond, “What is it?”

”What did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” He asks nonchalantly, taking a bite from his own piece of toast. You’re failing miserably at acting like you don’t think the joke is funny, although he hasn’t even told you the punchline yet.

”I dunno, Yunho, what did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” 

“‘You turn me on.’” 

There’s a pregnant pause as the joke resonates and you can’t stop yourself from cackling at how stupid it is. He joins in, but mostly because your laughter is contagious. His chest swells with pride at his successful landing, feeling like he’s on top of the world just for bringing a smile to your face. God, he was down tremendously bad. 

Your spoon clatters onto the counter as you lean over, a hand clapped over your mouth as your boisterous laughing simmers into a giggle. Yunho leans into you slightly, matching your energy as he munches on his toast. This is what has you conflicted, so at war with yourself. The proximity should have you pulling away, but something about him always reels you in, despite the consequences that await.

And unfortunately, those consequences come to a head today.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N?” 

You and Yunho jump back, whipping towards the source of the voice. Seojun stands there, his bags at his feet and his face crestfallen, disbelief written all over it. He shakes his head and turns to leave, you stumbling off of the barstool to follow behind him. The guilt you’ve only ever felt momentarily settles deep in your chest and deep in your stomach, though you technically haven’t done anything wrong.

Your abruptness startles Yeoreum and she’s up in a heartbeat, tailing behind you curiously. Yunho has to rush to stop her, but a part of himself wants to do the same. No matter how much he likes you, he’s never wanted to be the cause of your relationship falling apart. He wanted you organically, not like this.

”Seojun! Wait!” You call after him, holding up a hand to block out the harsh sunlight, tripping over your slippers. He scoffs. 

“What am I waiting for? You to spew some bullshit about how nothing’s going on between the two of you? I’m not fucking stupid, Y/N. I’m not blind.” He pops open his trunk and throws his bags in haphazardly.

”You’re being unreasonable,” you exclaim, rounding the car so you’re directly in front of him. “There is nothing going on. We’ve just gotten to know each other since we live in the same vicinity. Did you want me to stay here for three months and hole myself away with no other human contact?”

“He was just supposed to be the guy who lived in the farmhouse. He wasn’t supposed to bother you. That’s what you told me, remember?” Seojun is losing his patience, something that has always been the root of the problem when you’ve gotten into past arguments. “How do you expect me to react when I come to surprise you and see you being so close to another man?”

“I was laughing at a joke he told me. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is and blowing everything completely out of proportion. I’m sorry that it never came up that we became friends, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve never once cheated on you in the three years we’ve been together and for you to accuse me of that is so fucking low of you.” You’re not going to cry, not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s won. He thrives off of seeing your vulnerability and you won’t let him have it. 

“I saw the way he was looking at you,” he seethes, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “I know that look because that’s how I used to look at you.”

A laugh devoid of any humor leaves you and he blinks. “That’s how you ‘used to’ look at me? When did you stop? And why am I just finding this out?”

”That’s not— that isn’t what I meant, Y/N—“

”No, Seojun. You did,” you glance away from him, nipping at the inside of your cheek. “We’re grasping for straws. We aren’t going anywhere anymore and we haven’t for a while now. That’s why we're standing here arguing over this. I just want to know why you didn’t just tell me.”

”I’m too complacent,” he sighs, breathing through his nose. “I was too comfortable with you and I didn’t know how to let you go or walk away. But you’re right, there isn’t anything for us to save, and it seems like we’re both ready to move on.”

“What does that mean?” 

“I saw how you were looking at him, too. You might not have acted on it, but you have feelings for him. I’m not gonna stay and hold you back.” Seojun unlocks his car, opening the door. “And for what it’s worth, you won’t be wasting your time.”

You don’t respond, instead humming and letting him drive off. Once his car is far enough out of your view, you go back into the house. There’s an indescribable emotion that hostages you, binding your wrists and tying you down metaphorically. You can’t seem to shake it. 

Yunho is still in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with Yeoreum to keep her calm. He gazes up at you expectantly and you feel the tears you were suppressing from Seojun bubbling up. If you weren’t going to cry in front of your (now ex) boyfriend, you definitely weren’t going to cry in front of him. 

With a trembling exhale, you force yourself to say, “I need to be alone.”

He understands empathetically, clipping on Yeoreum’s leash and leaving the house in the same breath. That in itself has you crying like a baby the moment you’re all by yourself. You hold your face in your hands, body shuddering with each sob you release. 

I saw the way he was looking at you. 

I saw how you were looking at him, too. 

You had a lot to think about, and everything always seemed to circle back to Jeong Yunho. 

A couple days escape you before you register you haven’t seen much of Yunho. After your breakup with Seojun, you really did need a bit of room to process it all, but you hadn’t realized just how much you depended on the cowboy’s presence until you were missing it. 

You hadn’t meant to push him away, if that’s how he saw it. A night of bawling your eyes out with a pint of ice cream and The Vow was enough to cure you. However, it appears that he thought you needed more, going as far as putting a pin in your daily breakfast ritual. You aren’t sure how to extend an olive branch when you weren’t even trying to cause a rift between you in the first place. 

Being with someone for three years may not seem like a lot, but that fraction of your life is stuck with you, like a thumbtack that refuses to come out of the wall. You’d had boyfriends before Seojun, but they weren’t nearly as serious. There weren't formal introductions between parents, no late night conversations that bleed into early mornings, no sleepovers and quick kisses before work. 

Of course, after a certain point, those had just become habitual. You weren’t doing them because they evoked a sense of love or care anymore, but rather because you were familiar with them. It was safer to continue the pattern of waking up and falling asleep to Seojun on the other side of the bed, the intrusion of sunlight and the cacophony of traffic outside your window, even if you didn’t really want to. 

And then you came here. 

Somehow, returning to your grandparents’ farm was exactly what you needed to break through that cycle. As much as you would love to attest it to your location and discovering the appreciation your family wanted you to feel for it, you know the real reason. It’s all thanks to a certain cowboy.

Yunho’s feelings for you run far deeper than he could’ve imagined. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened with you and Seojun, but he thinks putting distance between you is better in the long run anyway. On the off chance you’re still together, he wants to preserve his heart. He’s handed it to someone else too easily in the past and he doesn’t want to make that mistake with you if you don’t feel the same. 

But even on the off chance that you’ve broken up, he still wants to stop himself from falling further and harder than he already has. Without ill will, he doubts that you would give up the life you have in the city for this, for him. He’ll be perpetually chained to being a faint imprint on your memory of the summer. You’ll think back to the months you spent here and he’ll have played only a minor role. 

It was wishful thinking, too hopeful of him to presume this would lead to a happy ending. You were from different worlds, led different lives. It was time for him to be realistic. And that meant implementing the space that was supposed to exist between you from the get go. 

Though, you make it difficult when he bumps into you on the way back from the mailbox. Déjà vu, anyone?

Yeoreum is excited to see you, jumping onto her haunches to lick your face when you kneel to her level. You giggle, squeezing one eye shut as you balance yourself and hold her still so her weight doesn’t clamber you both onto the ground. Your fingers pet to top of her head softly as you coo, “Who’s a good girl?”

Yunho physically winces when his chest tightens at the sight of his two favorite girls. The word ‘distance’ bounces around his head like a pinball, reminding him what he’s supposed to be doing. He just can’t bring himself to walk away. Especially when you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours. 

“Hey…” You start, steeling your tone to ensure it’s even. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you or something. I needed some time to myself to figure things out. It wasn’t my intention to shut you out and put you on the back burner.”

”No, it’s okay. I had to figure stuff out on my own, too,” he uses his bandana to dab at the sweat perspiring on his forehead. “Did you sort through whatever you needed to?”

“I did,” you nod, standing upright. “Seojun and I broke up, so I had to sit with my feelings for a bit. We’ve been together for so long, I think I needed to remember what it was like to be without him, and then I realized that’s basically what I’ve been doing since I came here.”

”Oh.” Yunho’s lips form an ‘O’ shape, hands dragging down the sides of his pants. “I’m sorry— um— about your breakup.”

”Don’t be,” you smile, dismissing his sympathy. “It was a long time coming, honestly. We weren’t really in the relationship wholeheartedly anymore. There wasn’t a point in stringing it along, you know? But that’s enough about me, did you figure your own things out?”

”I thought I did,” he says, which is true considering he’d been mulling over what to do with his emotions subsequent to your argument with your ex. “And then I kinda steered off course. It’s alright, though, I think I like the new conclusion I’ve come to a lot better.”

You might be on the same page now, but there was an entire discussion that had to happen to solidify that. Following a very emotionally charged past couple days, you could do without that today. You’re both just glad that the air is cleared and you can resume building the bond that began forming the moment you stepped foot onto the farm, no restrictions whatsoever.

“Have you ever ridden a horse?” 

You glance up from your book, this time genuinely reading it as Yunho fed the chickens and cleaned up their coop. He towers over you while he asks the question, his shadow thwarting off any direct sunlight. Your nose scrunches. 

“When I was in, like, middle school? It’s been a minute,” you answer, making sure to bookmark the page you stopped at. “Why?

”Would you let me teach you how to do it again?” He nips at his lower lip, like he’s nervous you’ll say no. The truth of the matter is you’d say yes even if he asked you to commit arson, which is kind of a problem.

“That sounds fun,” you shrug. “What time should I be ready?”

”Uh, now?” 

Okay, so sitting on a horse did not seem this scary when you were twelve.

It probably had to do with you being fearless and whatnot, but also because you did whatever your grandparents asked just to appease them. The faster you got off the damn horse, the faster you could go back inside and situate yourself in front of the TV. They thought they were making progress with you, but really you were outsmarting the outsmarters. 

Sweat glazes on the underside of your hands, disrupting the security of your grasp on the reins. Yunho thought it would be wiser if he stayed on foot, guiding you and the horse around the perimeter of the pen. You hoped you didn’t look as afraid as you were, but you’re certain the slight quiver of your bottom lip gives it away. 

“You’re doing fine, Y/N,” he reassures, maintaining a comforting amount of eye contact with you.

”Am I? Or does it just seem that way because you’re pulling the horse?” You quip, gripping the reins tighter when it steps over a rock and you sway a little. Your tone is laced with sarcasm, something Yunho hasn’t heard much of from you since you’ve met, but he thinks it’s cute that you resort to violence when you’re scared.

You notice the quirk of his mouth and how he’s trying not to laugh at your terror. It pisses you off solely because his humor isn’t unwarranted. You are being a bit over dramatic. He unties his bandana from around his neck and tosses it to you. “So you don’t callus your hands.”

He’s too thoughtful, too considerate for his own good, but that’s what roped you in. Even when you met for the first time, he had you figured out. The longer you stare at him, the more you realize just how perfect he is. If you were still in school and you were tasked with writing an essay about the summer you spent here, you’re sure the words would flow onto the pages flawlessly, without skipping a beat. Your prose would be so beautifully written, that even the most notable authors would be envious of your experience.

The only downside of this was the fact that time was beginning to seep through your fingers. There was mutuality in your feelings for each other, that was almost unequivocal. You were both just hesitant in taking that first leap. The uncertainty lied with that goodbye at the end of August, the one that’ll hurt a lot more than it was supposed to. But you know that postponing your unceremonious declaration of feelings would just do more harm than anything else. 

One consistency you’ve singled out since coming back to the farm is this common theme of divine intervention, or fate, whatever you want to call it. Right when you’re on the brink of an epiphany, you’re always forcefully shoved into it, like a freight train crashing into its platform traveling at full speed. This moment is no different. 

Yeoreum barking at a squirrel on the other side of the pen scares the horse who’s back you were currently on. It bucks up and you release the reins in alarm. You fall quickly, but Yunho’s quicker, catching you in his arms like it’s been a childhood dream of his to be a superhero. He searches your face for any indication that you might be hurt, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. 

The eyes you’ve grown to adore examine your own with so much care that you find yourself melting in his hold. Your face instinctively leans into his palm, fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt like he may drop you. 

It’s nearly second-nature to minimize the gap between you. 

You never understood what novelists meant when they described kissing scenes. And you think that’s because you’d never truly had a kiss like this before. It was as if they were all talking about this second, this blip in time. The sparks that shoot from where your lips meet to the tips of your fingers, the thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the sensation of never wanting to escape, never wanting to stop. 

Yunho’s hand snakes behind your head, tangling in your hair to deepen the connection. It’s hungry. It’s desperate. It’s too much. It’s not enough. Everything that had been stacking on top of each other was leading to this, the collision that rivaled the Big Bang. You whine into his lips, an invitation but also an inquiry. 

He parts from you just so he can catch his breath, his forehead resting on yours. “Can I take you inside?”

You nod fervently. “Yes. Please.”

He wastes no time hauling you to the farmhouse. His grip on your wrist is gentle as he pulls you into his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trapping you between his legs. Your restraint wears thin, nimble fingers fumbling with the rest of the buttons on his denim shirt. You push it off of his shoulders, a bit shell shocked when you discover that he’s wearing a regular t-shirt as opposed to his usual tank top. 

“You would pull something like this today of all days,” you laugh breathily, untucking the shirt from his pants. He reciprocates the sentiment, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck while you undress him. 

“Is it evil of me to say I was sorta hoping this would happen?” He speaks into your exposed collarbone, nipping, sucking, biting the skin. Your appreciative sigh goads him, his tongue gliding across the abused surface as a form of relief. 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head, fast to yank off his shirt and run your nails down his abdomen. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

“Yeah?” Yunho flips the two of you easily so you’re the one on the bed now. He pushes up the hem of your shirt, pecking your stomach to your clavicle as he shows more and more of your skin until the fabric is removed from your body. “Can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

You involuntarily moan, completely untouched and because of his words alone. Every part of you feels like it’s lit ablaze, burning with want and need and everything in between. This ran further than just what-ifs and late night fantasies. Your relationship with Yunho tiptoed on the edge of something you’ve never known before, and that makes this so much more special. 

He glances up at you when his fingers reach for the button of your shorts, a silent ask for permission. You give him the green light and hold yourself up on your elbows, watching with your breathing trapped in your throat as he rids of your panties along with them. His hands push your knees to your chest, kissing your inner thighs and right around the place you need him most, but never there. 

“Yunho…” You warn, but it comes across as a broken whimper rather than an establishment of authority. He laughs and then his lips are pressing to your clit, a sweet kiss that has all rationality taking a vacation from your brain. Your head tips back and you fist at the sheets. 

He drags his tongue through your folds, swirling it around the sensitive bundle of nerves each time it makes its return. It’s almost criminal how good it feels to have his mouth on your cunt, eyes already heavy lidded with pleasure. He sucks on your clit at the same time he decides to insert a finger into your entrance, curling it experimentally just because he can. Like you predicted, it reaches that spongy spot at the crook of your pussy, brushing it once he’s sure he’s found it. 

While you walked in on him fucking his fist, the only thing on his mind was you. He was so absorbed in the mental image of what you would look like beneath him, wiggling, writhing, squirming with indulgence. His social awareness was at a zero. This replayed over and over until he came, his thoughts so vivid he could’ve swore it was real.

But this, the actual thing, was so much better; his forearm pinning your hips down, his middle finger curling and uncurling inside of you, his mouth working overtime to inch you towards the edge of that steep cliff. He moans when your eyebrows practically coalesce, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. You look so gorgeous like this, so disoriented all because of the bliss he was providing. The vibrations of the sound have you arching your back, uncontrollable whines running from your mouth.

“Feel good?” Yunho asks, disconnecting his mouth and replacing it with his other hand, ring and middle digits swiping across your clit with practiced pressure. 

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, eyes on the brink of rolling to the back of your head. “Feels so good, Yun… Just like that, ‘m almost there.”

That’s all he needs to hear, switching his hand and mouth once again, focusing on alternating harsh and gentle sucks of your clit, adding a second finger to pump in and out of your hole. The doubled change in stimulation knocks the wind out of you, the precipice of your orgasm so close you can taste it. You’d never been brought to the summit this early in the past, and you think Yunho deserves some sort of reward for being the first to do so.

You’d worry about that later though, because you’re blindsided by it before you can even conjure your next thought. You cum with a cry, tears springing to your eyes from the immense amount of ecstasy coursing through your veins, swimming in your bloodstream. Yunho coos at you, not stopping until you’ve relaxed in his hold. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well.”

The praise makes your head feel airy, like empty space unoccupied by anything. If you paid attention in chemistry, then you’d know that’s highly impossible, but you didn’t. The only chemistry you even remotely care about is the one between you and Yunho, the tension that has piled higher and higher for days on end until its crescendo now. 

You sit up to kiss him roughly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. He smiles into it, a hand raising to caress the underside of your jaw. He climbs onto the bed, scooting you up so you’re positioned by the pillows. It doesn’t take much effort for your bodies to swap, his back to the headboard. You clumsily seat yourself on his lap, a knee on either side of him and sighing wistfully when his mouth trails down your throat and sternum, slender fingers sneaking behind you to unclasp your bra.

He aids you in removing his pants, still simultaneously prioritizing kisses all over your bare chest. When you’re both fully naked, you take your time admiring his cock. It’s just as pretty as you remember, long and thick. Your hand wraps around it gingerly, stroking the length as you lean down to kiss him again. You don’t think you could ever get enough of his lips on your own. 

“I’m not exactly getting any action over here, so I don’t have any condoms,” he says into your kiss, voice no louder than a whisper. 

“That’s okay,” you run your fingers through his hair. “Wanna feel you anyways, all of you.”

”Fuck, Y/N, you can kill a man with those words.” He groans, nails digging into your hips. You giggle, but it’s interrupted by him sitting you fully, his dick slipping through your lower lips. A whine brushes his ear when the tip catches your clit, repeating the movement until you can’t stay still.

The closest you’ll ever get to Heaven on earth is Yunho’s cock pushing inside of you, filling you up so deliciously you think you could die like this. Your jaw slackens, hands coming up to support yourself on his shoulders. Even if this is a one time thing, something that never happens again during your stay at the farm, he wants you to remember this when you go back home. He wants you to recall this sliver in your timeline and never forget it, wants his name engraved in your memory like a branding iron.

Once he feels you’ve adjusted to him well enough, he pulls you off of him almost entirely, just to ram back in without mercy. He punches a voluminous moan from you, eyes watching where he disappears in you and reemerges. You’re tighter and so much warmer than he dreamed you’d be, but it’s perfect. You suck him in like a vacuum, as if his cock was made to be inside of you, as if you didn’t want him to part from you.

“You’re s-so deep, Yun,” you mewl, pulling him in for another headache-inducing kiss. “Don’t wanna stop.”

He exhales through his nostrils, mumbling out a curse when your walls squeeze around him. He wanted to last a while for you, wanted to hold out and prolong this moment until you were both on the crest of passing out. But you feel like a glove, your silk-adjacent cunt begging for more and more. 

“Think I might cum soon, princess,” he groans, tossing his head back and just about losing every ounce of his sanity when your lips start marking the column of his throat. 

His big hands move under your thighs, holding you in place so he can fuck up into you. The pace at which his cock drills in and out of your pussy has you seeing stars, eyes snapping shut and nothing but colorful spots decorating your vision. You were already abhorrently sensitive following your first orgasm, so it didn’t really take much to introduce the second. 

Your hips stutter and it washes over you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering and collapsing into his top half. He pulls out of you quickly, mouth stationed by your ear as he jerks himself off until he’s painting your backside. He moans, a lot like the sounds he was making the other night, and you feel the need to just kiss him again. 

Your lips lock sweetly, a stark contrast to your previous actions. Yunho curves a hand on your cheek, seperating from you the smallest distance so he can admire you. The smile that etches onto his expression makes you dizzier than anything else. However, the cutesiness can only span so long before the setting gives way. 

Yunho’s hand snakes in between you, his forefinger sliding up and down your slit teasingly. Your breath comes out shaky, your face finding purchase in the crook of his neck. He replaces the digit with his middle finger, parting your pussy lips in search of your clit. It doesn’t take him very long to find it, rubbing tight circles into the engorged skin. You moan into his shoulder, resting your forehead on it to see the way he works your cunt. 

“You’re so wet, baby. Have I not fucked you enough?” He whispers into your ear huskily. Yunho talking dirty to you is something you didn’t know you needed in your life. His finger slips downward, thrusting up into your hole with ease. He keeps massaging your clit with his palm, the stimulation making your head woozy.

“Mmmph— Yun, god. Feels too good.” You whine, gyrating your hips on his hand. 

“Is that right, babe?” He encourages, adding a second finger and increasing the speed of their thrusts, almost like you hadn’t been in this position already. “I can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy around my cock again. Gonna fuck you harder than the last.”

Your whimpers raise in volume, focusing on the way he curls his digits in you, applying pressure with the heel of his palm to the circles he’s rubbing into your clit. You can sense your third orgasm approaching, warmth flooding your cheeks at how embarrassingly fast he worked you back up. Your walls clench around his fingers, alerting him of how close you are. He pauses, worming his body down so his face is eye level with your cunt again.

Yunho does the whole teasing thing a second time, kissing and suckling the hot skin of your belly, knowingly denying you of your release. You grab a handful of his hair, tugging at the ends to spur him on. He groans, giving into you and licking a straight line up your slit. He inserts both fingers again, this time using his tongue to manipulate your swollen clit.

The heat of Yunho’s mouth makes your insides ache, the necessity to cum intensifying. You keen loudly, desperately, needily, the sight of the brunette between your legs so incredibly arousing. He sucks on your throbbing clit, his long fingers as deep as they can go, and you crumble. 

“Oh my god— oh my god— I’m cumming! I’m—” You cut yourself off, convulsing under him. He laps up as much of your juices as he can, coating his chin with your release. You moan as you pull him towards you to unify your lips, a mixture of your saliva and cum connect your mouths in strings. At this point, the sex is messier than anything you could’ve plucked from your wildest dreams. 

One hand trails down your body, using your nimble fingers to play with your sensitive clit when he starts fisting his cock in preparation to enter your pussy again. You use your free hand to scratch at his contracting abs. He hisses, propping himself up with one arm next to your head and his eyes trained on the way you finger yourself at the same time. You can feel his breath on your cheeks and being in this proximity to him fuels your yearning.

“Please, Yun… Need you back inside of me,” you whimper. Rubbing your clit with your own fingers isn’t satisfying enough, not with him here in front of you, not when you know how good he can make you feel.

“Fuck, baby, when you beg like that I don’t know if I can hold back.” He chuckles lowly. It rumbles from his chest, shooting to your core. 

“So don’t,” you rouse. “This is more than just a one time thing for me, Yunho.”

His eyes widen just a bit, your confession catching him off guard. That’s all he needs to line himself up with your hole, hooking his forearm under your knee as he slides in, stretching your cunt so perfectly with his perfect cock. “Shit— you’re so tight, princess… It’s almost like I didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life.” He moans and spreads your legs wider. He bottoms out with a grunt, throwing his head back from the feeling of your velvety walls. A near deafening cry is ripped from your vocal cords. He nips at your neck, starting to piston his hips. 

His thrusts don’t slow but become calculated, speeding up and diving deep simultaneously. It only took a short amount of time to figure out what you liked and he used it to his advantage. Yunho hikes your knee to your chest, groping your tits with his free hand. He twists and tugs at your nipples just hard enough that it contributes to your pleasure rather than hurts you.

It’s as if he doesn’t feel buried inside of you sufficiently, because he decreases his pace to press and fold your other leg up, his hips ramming into your ass with each thrust now. The tip of his cock kisses at what feels like your cervix. That familiar coil begins to fasten again, keening with every drive into your cunt. The squelching noises would’ve made you cower in shame with anyone else, but with Yunho it turns you on further.

You moan, and he flattens his hand on the lower part of your stomach. Yunho groans, biting the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Your fingers find your clit again, circling insatiably to get yourself off. 

“You gonna cum for me again?” He rasps, his hold on your legs almost painful. The backs of your thighs burn, but you endure it for the sake of the moment. You reach up and behind yourself, grabbing at the headboard in an attempt to match his force. 

“Oh my god, yes— yes yes yes yes,” you babble, the syllables blurring together like your mind. “Gonna cum so hard for you, Yunho. Keep going, please.”

His lips attach to yours, tongues tangling sloppily. The position you’re in is on the opposite end of the spectrum from how you were expecting this summer reunion to go. Had you not been made aware of Yunho living here at the last minute, you probably would’ve backed out of your commitment to staying. Deep down you’re a little too thankful that your grandmother mentioned him when it was too late to reconsider. 

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Yunho whispers into your mouth. 

You let go of the headboard, cupping his jaw and kissing him lovingly. “Me too.”

Your fingers speed up and so do his thrusts, perfectly timed with each other to shove you both towards your highs. You’re on the cusp of falling apart, arching into him to close the gap between your bodies. 

“Wanna cum inside you. Can I?” Yunho grunts. 

“Yes yes, please. Fill me up, Yun, want all of you.” 

He continues to abuse your cunt, pounding into you like his life depended on it. You sob, clamping your walls around him. He freezes, suddenly spilling into you. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock.” The warmth of his release and his words coax your orgasm, the fluttering of your cunt milking every single drop from him that it can. Even with his dick plugging you up, you can feel it dripping out of you and onto the sheets below. 

He rocks into you languidly until you’ve calmed down enough for him to pull out. His forehead is flush on your chest, rising and falling with it, both of you so spent from the intense physical activity you engaged in. You stare up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids, carding your fingers through his hair to soothe him. 

“You meant what you said right? About this not being a one time thing.” Yunho says hesitantly, like he’s afraid of permeating the atmosphere you created. 

“I don’t think I can go home at the end of the summer and forget the way I feel for you, Yunho.” You admit out loud. There had been a constant struggle in your head over whether or not to follow your heart, but as he looks at you with those sparkly eyes of his, you know your answer. And you feel a little stupid for ever considering the counter. 

“And what exactly are those feelings?” He pushes, folding his hands on your sternum and laying his cheek on top. You giggle, brushing his hair out of his view. As tempting as it was to divulge your theatrical journey in assessing your emotions, you’re too exhausted to stay awake. It would have to wait for another day. 

“You have the rest of the summer to find out, cowboy.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.