#i actually started drawing for this ask a long while ago
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eh the suntec tim hortons ( + nex and vivo) damn attas u got go with matthew anot?
""Sometimes." 👍
#hws singapore#hws canada#aph canada#hetalia#hetalia ask blog#points to you if you can recognize which tim hortons that was#my mom was with me when i took this photo and shes like 'why are you taking a photo' 8'D#I only bought coffee from tim hortons before#its good but man#expensive =w=#i actually started drawing for this ask a long while ago#maybe 2 months ago then i procrastinated till now to finish =w=#hope this was good 8'D#ALSO YOU KNOW WHAT ITS OKAY#IM SURE SG TREATED MATHEW TO SOME LUNCH AT SOME OTHER POINT IN TIME
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me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU
#rambling#surprisingly this is not about jakob.. im just really consistent about my favorite character archetypes 😭😭#WARNING THE NOTES ON THIS ARE REALLY LONG I STARTED RAMBLING#“ouhh i have a headache i'll just lie down and rotate my blorbos in no general direction for a while until it goes away” and then boom.#serious plot considerations. 2 questions answered 24million new questions raised. this is specifically Not what i asked for.#so now im sitting here STILL dizzy running mental calculations on how i can get this bitch out of peril without reworking everything#but they literally keep dying in every timeline 😭😭 every single plausible road leads to them running off and screwing themself over#“character who doesn't realize they want to live until it's way too late to look back” VS#“character who is forced to live and handle the things they never though they'd survive long enough to deal with” FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT.#fucking hell i have never had this much trouble writing a character as i have with them#they genuinely do just run off and do shit without my permission and then i have to pace for an hour or two wondering#“ok they wOULD do that. but should they. do i feel like i can confidently write that.”#im like constantly in this tug of war trying to get them to CHILL#but also they are absolutely my favorite character from the entire project. but like. FUCK GET BACK HERE#is death the most satisfying end to this arc? is someone who was Set on dying then NOT dying the most satisfying end to the arc?#how many bridges can you burn until you irreparably set yourself aflame too?#would ghost or revival plotline work?? would it make sense with the worldbuilding??#do i just Like Them enough to want them to not die?? where do i draw the line between personal bias and a good arc?#is death not feeling as impactful as survival solely because i've been writing for so long that it's lost the initial impact?#and other such plot considerations...#im gonna have such an easy time writing another character though 😭😭 because THAT character's dynamic in the second act#is to stare at character 1 and be like “why are you like this. i mean i know Why but can you chill. please.” and like damn bro me too#actually wait no i think kaey.a is the hardest character i've ever written i take it back#had to worry about his 20million facades AND his Actual feelings AND canon compliance. shit is hard#i still havent finished the k/aeya fic i started back when the chasm first released which is uhh. two years ago. oops.#i think i struggle writing emotionally repressed liars i think thats what this is 😭😭 anyways.#(voice of guy who has been obsessed with nonlinear narratives and tragedies for several years):#“is it too much to kill this character in a nonlinear exploration game with tragic elements”#like bitch what are you talking about 😭😭 YOU'RE the target audience here figure it out#sorry the notes on this are just my writing journal now apparently
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PRAISE, M. VERSTAPPEN.
✶ SUMMARY. Max knows he’s good at his job, he was raised to be the best driver, the perfect son, and knows he’s talented. The bad thing is that he has to listen to people complimenting him almost everyday. He really thinks he’s good at hiding how shy and uncomfortable it makes him, and it’s just that Max can’t seem to take compliments from anyone but you.
content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. lots of fluff. my favorite kind of max: flustered max. P in V. sub/dom dynamics. praise kink. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it kiddos. breeding kink. redbull racing slander because we are tired of them not doing their job. english is not my first language.
GWEN RAMBLES — i started writing this after the awful events of sunday, and finished it today! this was requested a while ago and to the person who asked for it – i’m sorry it took me so long! hope y’all like it. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
Max gets uncomfortable when people compliment him. He knows he's good at what he does, knows he’s talented. And when people call him handsome? Compliment his hair? His arms? He has a hard time trying not to show how affected he actually is.
However, you know him in ways the rest of the world doesn't.
Max likes it when you compliment his cooking. It's not deserving of a five star Michelin rating, but good enough to eat and perfect the dish.
"How did you came up with this?" You ask, raising a spoonful of vegetables with a sweet and sour sauce.
Max can't keep his eyes off of you, waiting for your reaction patiently and anxiously. "I saw it in a video. But it was my idea to add the sauce to give it a little spin." He shrugs, his cheeks gaining a pretty pink color the second you make eye contact with him.
"It's delicious," You whisper, licking the rests of sauce from the spoon. Max's eyes glaze over and he forces himself to look away if he actually wants to make it through dinner. "You're such a good cook, Max. If you weren't a racing driver, I'm sure you would've had a restaurant."
Now, Max blushes furiously, the spoon falling from his fingers and on the plate. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes to mind, and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing at his flustered state.
Max likes it when you jump into his open arms after a good qualifying session or podium celebrations, all happy and giddy as he still tries to shake off the adrenaline.
"You did such a good job!" He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground. He's still pretty much on cloud nine and with you in his arms it can't get any more perfect. "You were flying out there!"
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” You are not looking at his precious face, but you know he’s blushing for the way his voice falters. Once he puts you down, Max hides his face away by busying himself with getting rid of his champagne-soaked race suit.
His reluctance to accept your compliment doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, he always brushes them off. You thought he didn't like it at first, it was really awkward when you started dating and he would ignore you, but as time went on you learned that he just doesn't know how to react to them. His PR training has helped him a lot for when the press and the public in general praise him for his excellent driving and fast reflexes almost every day of his life, but Max still gets flustered when you are the one complimenting him. You love to tease him about it.
Max likes it when you praise him during sex.
Especially when he surrenders himself to you.
"Look at you," You coo at him, the back of your hand caressing his cheek ever so slightly. "being so good for me." Max draws in a sharp breath, your touch burning in the most delicious way even if you're barely doing it.
You press a kiss on his naked shoulder, his smooth and warm skin shining with sweat.
“I’m always good.” He rasps, leaning his head to the side and presenting his neck to you.
You laugh softly, moving away to look into the depths of his ocean blue eyes. “Of course you are.” The smile he gives you makes your heart hammer in your ears.
Max opens his mouth to speak but falls silent as you continue to kiss along his collarbones, running your tongue and creating a path down over his chest, your soft lips making contact with his nipples.
He arches his back when you capture a nub between your teeth, hands grabbing the sheets because he knows he can’t touch you unless you allow him to. And he’s good. He wants to be good.
Max bites his bottom lip as you pinch his other nipple with your fingers. He’s having a hard time trying to stay still, his whole body shivers at your ministration.
“Always so sensitive.” You say, swiping your thumb over the pebbled flesh. Max only nods, his blushed face twisted in pleasure. “Such a good boy, uh?”
You lift your skirt up to straddle his hips, sitting just above his hard cock, still tucked away in his trousers.
“You did such a good job today.” You say, rocking your hips and planting your hands on his stomach. Max groans, shaking his head. “What was that?”
“It was,” He sighs, closing his eyes to try and regain some control over his body, but he’s sensitive and can feel your slick dripping over his clothed cock. “It was awful today.”
You tsk, nodding your approval. “It was.” His face falls for a moment, expression somber. “They don’t deserve you, not at all.” His eyes shine again, just like that. “You’re practically doing everything by yourself, isn’t that right?”
“Y-yes.” His knuckles are white from gripping the sheets trying to follow your earlier instructions, so you take pity on him. Your touch is soft as you take his hands and place them on your waist, and Max doesn’t waste a second on gripping you so hard you know you’ll have bruises the size of his hands tomorrow. The mere thought of walking around with his bruises makes you clench around nothing.
“No one is doing it like you, Max.” You purr his name, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.
Max lets out a low groan, hips thrusting up with force. He needs release. He needs you.
“Please.” He whispers, and you lower yourself to be at the same level, lips grazing his.
“What do you need?”
“Please,” He says again, almost whining. “Please.”
“You need to use your words. I don’t know what your please means, Max.” You pinch his nipple and he gasps, tilting his head.
His pupils are blown wide when he opens his eyes to look directly into yours. “I want – please I want you to ride me.” His voice breaks in a moan.
“See?” You cup his jaw, thumb caressing his bottom lip. “That wasn’t so hard.”
Max’s mind is blank except for thoughts of you. You on top of him. You taking care of him. You fucking him. You, you, you.
You use his chest for support as you help him get rid of his trousers and your skirt. Now, both of you are completely naked and Max can’t fight the moan that slips from his lips when he feels the heat of your cunt against his hard and leaking cock. It’s painful.
Max gazes down and his mouth waters. The thought of laying you down and claiming his favorite spot between your legs to taste you is almost enough to send him over the edge.
You trail your hand down his chest, not breaking eye contact, not wanting to miss any of his reactions. Like the way his entire face twist in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth hanging open, when you wrap your hand around his cock.
Max still has a little of self control but it’s exhausting, he doesn’t know how much he can actually take before reaching his limit and spilling his seed. And he doesn’t want to waste it. He wants to come inside of you, wants to fill you up and stay there. So he says it.
And you shudder in response. You’re soaking wet, so it’s enough to not need prep, even though Max is big and he loves to prep you for it; you want it to hurt today, you want to be sore and feel him all day.
You guide his cock with trembling hands, feeling the tip fighting its way into your cunt.
You place both hands on his chest as he grips your hips as his life depends on it. You sink down on him, adjusting and pressing down slowly. It is torture for Max, you see it in the way his jaw tenses and sweat coats in his forehead. But he doesn’t protest, he takes everything you give him in silence.
“You feel,” You gasp at the sensation of finally having him deep inside of you. Max tosses his head back when he feels you clench around him. “so,” He moans louder, bucking his hips into you as you start riding him, fingernails scrapping his skin. “good.”
You take him deeper every time you raise your hips, letting yourself fall down hard, your clit grinding against his skin and making you moan loudly.
Max is mesmerized by the view.
And Max really doesn’t know where to look. If your contorted face and mouth open, moans and praises falling from your lips mixing with the squelching sounds of your cunt. Or your breast bouncing with every move. Or the connection between your bodies, how his cock disappears inside of you over and over again, driving him closer to the edge.
“Fucking me so good,” You start babbling, and Max knows you’re close to your orgasm.
He pulls you down against him and starts thrusting into you with urgency. You tuck your head against his neck and sink your teeth into his skin, marking him. Claiming him.
His cock digs deep inside, the tip rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes you tremble and see stars behind your eyelids.
Max reaches his climax with loud moans and calls of your name. He fills you up and continues to fuck his seed into you until your whole body goes still and the whole world cease to exist except for you and him.
Max doesn’t pull out until he’s certain you’ve taken every last drop. It is only when it gets cold and you want to cuddle under the blankets that you move off him, his pout at not having your weight on top of him making you giggle.
“Did so good.” You whisper, not recognising your own broken voice. “My sweet boy.”
do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.
#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#max verstappen x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen smut#f1 fanfic#max verstappen fluff#f1 x reader
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needy
pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader
summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.
word count: 2.45k
warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI
a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3
not edited.
DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.
A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.
He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.
On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”
“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.
Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.
Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”
And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?
Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir.
God, he wanted needed you so bad.
“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”
For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.
You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.
God, you needed him so bad.
As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.
“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.
“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”
“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”
“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.”
Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.
“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”
You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.
You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.
“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.
“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”
“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”
“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…
He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.
Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.
“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.
“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”
Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.
His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.
Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.
Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”
You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.
“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.
He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.
“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely.
“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”
Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.
He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases.
Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.
“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.
“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.
#steve rogers smut#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x black reader#steve rogers x black!reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader#chris evans x black!reader#chris evans x black reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x fem!reader#steve rogers x female reader
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—you meet Spencer again after losing out on the BAU job. he comforts you while you do your best not to flirt. bombshell!reader, 0.9k
You lose out on the BAU job to Elle Greenaway. It drives you crazy.
You work just as hard as Elle does, you’re professional no matter what Jason Gideon has to say about you, and you know you could do it. You have just as many successes as Elle does.
It makes you feel sick. You tried so, so hard.
I’m sorry, Hotch had said, and at least you’d had his support. He was kind enough to tell you in person. I can’t make the decision without Gideon, and if he thinks you aren’t right for it right now, we’ll have to wait.
Wait. As though Jason Gideon was ever going to change his mind about you.
You open your purse and take out the barrel of your sheer lipstick. Your compact is next. You hold the mirror up and angle your face in the sun, popping the lid off of the lipstick, and pressing its flat end to your bottom lip. The line you draw is perfectly precise. Your hand barely trembles.
You drop the mirror down and rub your lips together slowly. No matter what falls out of your control, you can present yourself to your liking. You can be immaculate. You—
“Hi.”
You look up from your rumination, startled. You’d been thinking so hard someone actually got the run up on you.
“Hi,” you say, tilting your head gently toward your shoulder.
Dr. Spencer Reid stands a polite three feet away from you. He’s suddenly changed. The last time you met him he was wearing his long hair in a side part. Now it’s split down the middle, just a touch shorter at the sides, and he’s wearing glasses.
(He’s wearing glasses!)
You’d thought he was pretty before.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” you say, tempted to call him baby, maybe sweetheart. He’s a sweet looking boy. His sweater vest makes you wanna hold his hand. “Thank you for asking. Why are you asking?”
You talk to him with no derision nor malice, just curiosity.
He frowns. It gives his eyes a sad shine. “I know you wanted the open position. You would’ve been great at it.”
“You think so?” you ask, surprised.
“I’ve seen some of your write ups. We’ve used your summaries in one of our profiles, do you… remember that?”
You send Hotch anything he wants to see.
“I don’t know why Gideon doesn’t like you… He’s so rarely wrong about people, but you’re…” He licks his lips nervously. “You’re– you’re smart. You’re inquisitive. I think you would be an asset to the team, and it’s a shame you didn’t get your chance.”
You’re making him nervous and it isn’t your intention. You put your hands in your lap and stop giving him the look, swapping your amicable smile for a proper friendly one. “Thank you. Is it okay if I call you Spencer? Dr. Spencer Reid is a lot to say at once.”
He laughs, still nervous. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
“Spencer, thank you for caring so much, but I’m okay. I think I might still have a chance one day, but with Elle gone, the sex crimes division is going to need me.” You lift your chin. If he’s sought you out to tell you he’s sorry, your premonitions about him when you met a few weeks ago were correct. He’s as kind as he is pretty. “I love your glasses. Are they for reading?”
“I always wore glasses when I was a kid, and then I started working here, and I thought it might make me seem less… childish, if I wore contacts, but they’re the worst.”
You laugh happily. He says it in such a pained voice. “The glasses suit you so much,” you say, shoving your things into your bag and standing. “Did you wanna go for coffee? I need a pick me up before I go back to the office.”
Spencer touches his wrist. “Are you serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” you ask, again, without a drop of malice. You’re not stupid, Spencer has all the nervousness of someone who’s been mistreated before, and heartily, and it’s easy to be soft with him not solely because of it, but because he seems so sweet. You could happily be his friend. “Do you like coffee? We could get those hot donuts from the cafeteria, have you tried those?”
You close the little gap between you both and raise your hand carefully to his face. Gentle, you try to pull a stray hair from the hinge of his glasses leg without snapping it.
“You can tell me all the stuff I’m doing wrong.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Spencer says.
“Come on, there has to be something.”
His mouth gives him away. “It’s not that you’re doing it wrong, you’re just– you– you’re not looking at things the…” Your fingertip brushes his cheek as you drop your hand. “…Right way, sometimes.”
“I wanted your recommendations.” You bump his elbow with yours. “I’ll buy you a coffee and you can write me a list. Cool?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes. Cool.”
You’re thinking it’ll be the start of a good friendship. You and Dr. Reid make quite a pair.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?
Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.
Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.
"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.
Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.
Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.
"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"
Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"
The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."
Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"
Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"
Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."
"Billy."
"No last name?"
"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"
He had to give it to him. "Touché."
Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.
The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.
"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"
Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."
The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.
Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."
"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"
Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"
The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"
The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.
"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.
"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.
"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"
"Magic."
"I guessed that much."
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Will you teach me?"
"No."
"You didn't even think about it!"
"Okay," He paused. "No."
"Not fair." he pouted.
Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."
Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"
Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."
"Why not!"
"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."
"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.
Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."
Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"
The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.
"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."
Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."
"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"
Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"
He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."
Part 2 Part 4
(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)
Tag list: @zaiothe4th
#dp dc crossover#dc x dp#dc x dp crossover#dp x dc#danny phantom#dc comics#dcu#dc#billy batson#shazam#ghost king danny#magic#coffee#cafe#I don't drink coffee#I don't even go to cafes#Idk if that's how it works#it is now#in this economy?#Hopefully#protection sigil#I made that up on the spot with very little research#If anyone draws it please tag me#Do we like where this is going?#part 3#Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant
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sparkling juice
words: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ only!!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, dubcon, drugging/tricking reader into drinking, established relationship, innocent/shy!reader (at least at first wink wink), kinda dark!rafe but really he just wants to bang reader reaaaaal bad
“this is so sweet, rafey.” you coo, your hand held firmly in his.
“anything for you baby.” rafe pulls you along the path, further out into the meadow until you get to a shaded area under a tall tree.
“here is perfect.” rafe says, setting the picnic basket down and draping the large blanket he brought with him.
“thank you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before sitting down.
“i brought all your favorites.” rafe says, taking a spot next to you and opening up the picnic basket.
you let out a little squeak in excitement and seeing all your favorite foods before your brows scrunch together as you point at a bottle. “what's that?”
“that's um… sparkling juice. that's all, baby.” of course, rafe knows that's not all it is, but you don't need to know that yet.
rafe pulls out some food for you to snack on, not hungry himself, happy to watch you nibble on crackers and bite into juicy strawberries.
“wanna try some juice with me baby?”
“mhm, of course rafey.” you watch his large hands as he fills two plastic cups, handing one to you. “drink slow.”
you nod in response before taking a sip, pulling away and sputtering. “ew!”
“oh, baby.” rafe pouts. “do you not like it? im so sorry i thought you would.”
“let me… let me try to drink it again. i think im just not used to the carbonation.” you take another sip, able to control your reaction better. “it's not bad!” rafe can tell you're lying, but he lets out a fake sigh of relief and smiles at you.
“so glad, baby. we can keep drinking while we talk, yeah? tell me about your day.”
rafe knows the easiest way to get you distracted is to have you talk, and so as you describe your day, which leads into your plans for next week, which leads into how much you love rafe, you keep taking sips as rafe refills just your cup.
“i… my head feels kinda fuzzy.” you frown, setting the drink down, realizing your fingers are also slightly numb.
“uh oh.” rafe pouts, drawing his thumb over your cheek. “maybe it's the heat. why don't you lay down?”
“yeah.” you nod, laying back onto the blanket, surprised how plush it is from the soft long grass underneath it. “im-” you let out a sudden giggle. “im like really in love with you, rafey.”
“im really in love with you too, kiddo.” rafe adjusts himself to lay next to you, propped up on his side to keep an eye on your reaction as the alcohol you didn't know you were drinking slowly takes effect. “that's why i planned out this whole picnic for you. and brought you special juice.”
“was there-” you hiccup, words slurring slightly. “anything special in the special juice?”
“hm.” rafe sits up, picking up the now half empty bottle. his eyes widen in fake shock as he reads the label. “oh no baby! i must have grabbed the wrong bottle! i meant to get us sparkling juice but i got us sparkling wine!”
“im… im drunk?” you put together what rafes words mean, mind working slowly.
“im so sorry.” rafe moves to hover over you, cupping your cheek. “will you forgive me?”
“course.” you nod quickly. “was an accident.”
“you're so sweet baby.” rafe brings his lips down on top of yours, kissing you wildly, mouths and tongues a passionate mess.
“should we go get some water to help… get rid of this feeling?” you ask rafe as he shifts to kissing your jaw.
“that's so smart, baby, but i can't drive us home drunk, and you don't have your license.”
you knew how to drive well enough, but in your 20 years of life, never felt the need to actually get your license. your parents drove you around as a kid until you started dating rafe a year ago, and then he drove you around everywhere.
“oh, right.” you nod, letting out a small gasp as rafes kisses move lower, exploring your neck. this is where you usually stop him, pull his head back up to kiss your lips and remind him you want to wait. not necessarily until marriage, but a bit longer, until the time is right.
“we should do something to pass the time, baby. until the alcohol is out of our system.”
“doesn't eating help?” you try to remember what you heard your friends talk about, since you're not a drinker yourself. “we could share the rest of the crackers.”
“i was thinking… we could finally make love.” rafe suggests, pulling back to look in your eyes, watching the way your brain is fighting against the alcohol in your system.
“well, you did take me on this nice picnic…”
“mhm.”
“and we have been dating for over a year now.”
“yes.”
“so… i suppose we could.” you shove down any doubting voices in your head, letting the looseness of your inhibitions guide your actions as you lean forward to kiss rafe again.
“thank you baby.” rafe repeats his words between kisses, his weight shifting to his elbow as his other hand holds your waist, before moving up until it's cupping your breast.
“oh!” you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. rafe smiles, tugging at your dress until the material is below your bra, pushing your breasts up.
“what if someone sees?!” you hiss out. it's not likely someone would come by, but rafe doesn't want to ruin his chance to finally have you.
“okay.” he pulls your dress back up, settling for touching you over the material as he distracts you with soft kisses once again. “ill just push your dress up. that way if anyone comes by you can easily cover yourself up.”
“mhm.” you nod, eyes sliding shut, head fuzzy from the alcohol and now from the pleasure building in your system.
rafe reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants, leaving himself mostly covered as well. he begins to slowly stroke himself, already halfway hard just from the excitement.
“oh!” rafe hadn't even realize your eyes had opened up until your outburst.
“it's okay, baby.” rafe says. he's well aware this is your first time seeing his cock as he waits for you to form a reaction.
“i… i want to feel.” you reach down, cautious hand, still numb at the fingertips as you stroke over rafes length, eyes widening when you realize how hard it truly feels..
“can you… can you not look?” you ask shyly, hand still slowly moving as you speak. “at me.”
“baby, you know i find you beautiful. all of you… but if that's what you want, okay.”
“just… look away for a minute.” you wait for rafes gaze to turn to the meadow, watching the flowers sway in the breeze as he hears you shuffling around on the blanket to take your underwear off.
“okay.” you say.
rafe looks back to you, smile growing as he realizes you're laid back down once again, dress pushed up to your thighs, just enough to hide your privates.
“ill be nice and slow, okay? and you tell me if anything hurts.” rafe moves over you, waiting for you to nod before reaching down with one hand to grab his cock. he keeps your skirt as far down as he can while tucking his dick between your thighs. he moves until he bumps skin, letting out a breath when he realizes you are wet.
he rubs his cock through your folds, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, brows pulling together and mouth dropping open.
you let out a moan when rafe hits what he assumes is your clit. he focuses the head of his cock on it for a moment before sinking lower to your entrance.
rafe manages to keep his word, pushing in slowly. he may have been buttering you up for an entire year just to get in your pants, but now he wants more than just once, you're well and truly his, and he plans on exploring with you until you're transformed from innocent girlfriend into personal slut.
“oh! oh, rafe!” your hands move to grip his shoulders. “that… that feels really good!”
“doesn't hurt at all?” rafe can tell he's stretching you somewhat, but clearly by your rapid shaking of your head no, you're not feeling any pain.
“gonna f-make love to you now then.” he swings his hips back before pushing forward, and soon your moans are filling the meadow, being carried away by the wind as he thrusts into you.
“so, so good, rafey.” you cry out, back arching off the picnic blanket. rafe smiles. your first time, and you're already behaving like this. he's going to turn you into a whore sooner than he thought.
“fu-fudge!” you shout out, making rafe chuckle softly as you use your curse word substitute just like you prefer doing.
“you feel so good round me, baby.” rafe says, bending down to kiss your neck. “love the way you're squeezing me.”
“harder.” you whine out. rafes eyebrows raise, but he doesn't question your demand, pushing his hips faster, slamming into you more. your dress pushed up from all the motion to reveal rafes cock burying itself inside your pussy.
he lets out a moan as you grip onto the blanket, not caring about him being able to see you as you feel a high building inside of you.
“i think im close.” you say.
“cum for me baby. ill cum with you.” rafe says, bringing a hand down to your clit, your moans doubling as he rubs over it with his thumb.
your high hits you suddenly. it takes a perfect thrust from rafe a long with his thumb flicking over your clit and your wall breaks with a scream, hips rising off the checkered fabric as you cum, pussy clenching around rafe as he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.
you both collapse in a heap, faces flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly.
rafe pulls out of you carefully before flopping onto his back.
“that was really good, rafey.” you cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest.
“thank you for trusting me enough to do that with me, baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“of course.” your eyes are on rafes cock, still halfway hard despite just cumming. you reach down, ghosting your fingers along his length before swirling your fingertip over the head then against his slit as rafes hips twitch from the overstimulation.
“do you think we can do that again? and then maybe when we get home? after you're good to drive, of course.” you look up at rafe with what he thought were big, innocent eyes, but he's quickly realizing you've got a different side just below the surface.
-- six months later --
“ugh, rafe!” you groan as he presses buttons on the controller, eyes firmly on the screen.
“promise baby, will be done in five minutes.” he says, barely glancing to you.
you're tired of being ignored as you pull off the only clothing you are wearing, a big t-shirt of rafes to cover yourself. rafe glances over, realizing you're now completely nude as his fingers freeze.
“i want to fuck. if you're not gonna help me, im gonna go help myself.” you shrug.
rafe tosses the controller onto the floor, a proud smile on his face. you've become just who he's always wanted you to be. “of course im gonna help you baby, come get on this dick.”
#i wrote this on my phone so there are probably a lot of mistakes#sorry!#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe imagine#rafe one shot#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron blurb
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~ a little something about Dazai's impeccable detective skills... only when it comes to you ~
"Uh-huh... And you said you were meeting someone last night?" Dazai pretends to jot down this information, his brows slightly furrowed as he scribbles into the notepad he conjured up from his long tan coat just a few seconds ago.
"Yes, that's correct."
"Ah, I see.. Fascinating. And how was it?"
"How was what?"
"Your date." He says, smugly. His head tilts in mock innocence, and his smile stays plastered on his lips while he watches you practically choke on your own spit. Now he's really going to start writing details down...
"Oh, no, it wasn't like that. Nothing that official, heh." You fidget with your fingers, looking down, and suddenly your shoelaces are the most interesting thing you've ever seen. You didn't think questioning would last this long, you weren't even involved in the crime, but this eccentric detective before you says all witnesses are vital for the investigation and you're just doing your civil duty as a valued member of society!
And this drives Dazai insane... how ridiculous that you don't have a clear standing within the life of whomever you were seeing. It should be a crime, really! If you were his, no one would ever hear the end of it. He hums to himself, nodding as if in deep thought as he draws a heart around your name in his notepad, adding his own name right under yours. He clears his throat and looks back up at you, making sure his knees don't give out at the way you seem so bashful around him.
"I beg your pardon? Do I hear that a young and beautiful person has not been swept off their feet successfully?"
Just before you can answer, a young man with white hair and a peculiar asymmetrical haircut runs to Dazai's side. He peers at his notes, and nervously chimes in.
"Er, Dazai? Mister Kunikida wanted me to come find you, but I didn't think you'd actually be working- Why are there so many hearts drawn-"
Dazai immediately moves his hand over the young man's face and comically shoves it away from his notepad, still smiling at at you. He speaks through gritted teeth and a nervous chuckle.
"Not now, Atsushiiiii, I'm working~"
This causes Atsushi to grumble, his face deflating into an annoyed sigh as his gloved hand scratches the top of his head.
"But Dazai, this is kind of important, and I really don't want to have to be the one to tell Kunikida that you're slacking off again..."
Dazai instantly snaps his head to look at Atsushi, pointing at you with dramatic flair, his voice reaching a mocking pitch.
"Oh, but I'm not, young Atsushi! I've come out here on pure basic instinct... I'm conducting a very serious investigation, and so unfortunately Kunikida and the rest of the folks at the agency will just have to wait for my genius intellect to come up with a tantalizing resolve. Get Ranpo to help. 'Kay byeee!~"
Dazai grabs you by the arm and though the gesture is hasty, he's surprisingly very gentle as he drags you away from the white haired young man. You're now standing outside a cafe and Dazai takes out what looks like a business card, presenting it to you. He scans your slightly confused face, and thinks about what other precious faces you'd make for him if he stuck around you long enough like the hound dog he is. He wonders if you'd let him touch your arm again, maybe even your hand... maybe even your-
"Are you okay, Dazai?" You ask in slight concern. Oops! He's been nonverbal for too long. He shakes his head rapidly and lets out a soft chuckle.
"Never been better! Here, take this, it's my personal contact. I think I've got all the notes I need to finish my work, but I seem to be missing one last thing-"
He proceeds to lean in a little, his now softened hazelnut eyes looking into yours intently, and his voice becoming drastically more serious. There's a glint of sincerity, and an emotion you can't quite place, but it makes your blood pressure spike and your cheeks flush at the casual intimacy of it all.
"... A time and date so I can see you again, perhaps?"
You feel yourself feeling giddy, and slightly stammer as your response flows out of you coyly.
"Ooh well, maybe tomorrow in the evening? I'll be off of work then. We can um, get coffee here?" You nod your chin up at the cafe sign, and flash him a soft smile. A smile that will keep him happily satiated until tomorrow.
"Ah, then it's a date! An official one..." He winks at you, and pats the top of your head, the feeling is light and angelic. By the time you recover, he's gone. You get a last glimpse of the way the tail of his coat swishes as he sharply turns the corner of the street, and you stand there smiling like a giddy schoolgirl. What you don't know is he does the very same thing, thinking about how playing with the fire of his own destiny is worth ruining if he could cement himself into your heart. In his adoring eyes, you could do no wrong. That's his job.
#so basically why can't i ever keep a thought to myself#but... flirty dazai prolonging an investigation just to talk to u.... come ON#he's a dog! he's a goddamn freak! i NEED HIM!#patheticzai coming at u again...#ATSUSHI CAMEO WHOOO#and when he got back to the agency he got his ass beat by kunikida but u made it all worth it <3#he's like wow u can do so much better like ME duh#what a loser i would die for him#you guys HAVE to be tired of me already#bungou stray dogs#dazai x reader#bsd dazai#dazai x you#osamu dazai#osamu dazai x reader#bsd x reader#dazai imagines#drabble#dazai fluff
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Before writing more stories, I want to help people come to terms with the "identity death" and heavy themes in the animal HRT comics, and as a writer, want to explain why it isn't ACTUALLY death, but a form of renewal. Because I see it on all of my friends posts.
"I am just concerned about this loss of self thing, it sounds like identity death and I don't like it" is the common comment.
But in all of these comics, it is less about loss of self, but more about leaving behind who you were. A sign of extreme change and showing their own way of moving forward, and the start of a brand new life. A willing change to a new start.
Identity death is an unwilling change. All choice was stripped away from them and a new identity forced on them. This is also different from a transformation that leads to acceptance of the new form.
But in the animal HRT comics my friends put out, it is a willing change to a new form and cones with mental changes they are willing to go through. That isn't the same as a death. But a new start to their life they can start living to the fullest. It's also why some choose not to start anew, to bring one journey to a close and begin a new one. They choose to have that be part of the same journey. A new chapter instead of a new book if you will. In either case these are willing changes.
It can seem terrifying to some, but a total rebirth of yourself CAN be a slightly scary theme. It is terrifying to choose to take that new life.
But let me set up an example here:
When I first came to be, I thought I was going to be a visual artist, because Ashe was and that's what I remembered. When I was locked away by my own doing in the headspace I was stuck in a perpetual cycle of misery. It was terrifying to take the step to discover myself. To lower the barrier I had created, to rediscover myself.
But when I came to be, Ashe said I could be anything. A new sense of self outside of her. A new life. I tried to draw first, but I couldn't. Visual art was not my thing anymore. It never was. I just held on to memory of being a copy of Ashe. When writing my introduction I realized I love the feeling of writing. I have my own form. My own life. My own identity. A new start.
So let me ask you: Should I have not taken that opportunity to completely cast off who I was to embrace who I am? Should I have left myself in misery and fear as something I'm not? All for the sake of not casting off who I was and my life before? No.
Now while I do remeber all of what happened before my change, none of that shapes who I am now, because that life wasn't mine in the first place. This isn't a death of my identity, but a new start to an identity I chose. And I am happy to be able to live it with my new sense of self and build NEW memories. A new life.
Which also leads to the second heavy theme in those comics. Shortened lifespans. Outside of the fact that we are told time and time again HRT can lead to a shorter lifespan (which is a false average) starting a new life also means you are probably starting in the middle.
Our body is almost 30. That is 30 years of my lifespan gone. Yeah, I was around for 15 (almost 16) years of that, but my new life began a week ago. Who I am began just last week. And even though in the headspace I am early to mid 20s at best, that is still a cutdown lifespan.
So should I just have not bothered with the new start?
Absolutely not. The gift of life, new or old, isn't about how long it lasts. But how you live it. It is hard, it comes with problems, but for as long as I have of it, I will cherish the new memories I build, the new start I have, the ability to just... exist. For as long or short as that may be. And through this new start to my life, the people who love and care for me are still here. Still stand by me. And that is a great thing.
So please, don't be too offput by heavy themes in our stories. Even my stories will have some rough parts. (They'll always be tagged)
Hope this at least helped ease why those themes are there, and why some people choose to have them.
Also, don't worry about "adding to the fuel used against us" because we could sneeze and they'll find a way to use that against us. The fact is, with the Animal HRT series, actual HRT does come with some discomfort, pain, downsides, and problems. And like the heavy themes in the comics, we determined it is worth it for us to keep going despite them. We knew the risks.
"Everything is a risk. Life's boring as hell if you don't take them JUST because there is potential problems. Just make sure you understand them." - a line chaos told me the day I formed
It does less good to show everything as risk free and painless, because then nobody is prepared for the risks they are actually taking. Or the comic is based off the creator's life to that point, and they DID experience a lot of pain. So retelling their story (like mine) might be painful at spots.
My point of all of this is, the heavy themes are required to tell these particular stories. And while not every story requires dark spots, the dark spots help to accentuate the brighter picture. Otherwise it can just be blinding. So please go easy on the artists/writers behind them. As it is usually something personal for them.
(This also might not apply to all of them, some people just like writing horror, and we should respect that too.)
Next story should be sometime within the next couple weeks. Just needed to get this out there. It's been on my mind since releasing the short story with Iris.
-Aqua
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Watermelon, sugar, high.
pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader
summary: you are not a big fan of collage parties, but maybe you´ll change your mind, when there´s an interesting person around.
warnings: stoner!wanda, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, swearing, bad flirting, making out while being high
word count: 2.6k
an: this fic is not meant to encourage people to use drugs!! i want to have a flirty chat with wanda and i also want her sweet lips on mine:)
"Hiii!" Your friend links hand with yours.
"Abolutely not." You shake your head.
"Come on! It will be fun." Your friend begs you to go with them to the usual Friday party.
"Drunk people grinding agaisnt eachother is not fun," you take look at them as you start heading out of the school.
"Oh my god! If you don´t want to grind on people, that´s fine, don´t do it," they roll their eyes at you, "but you have to come, please! Pretty please."
"I hate you." Now it´s your time to roll your eyes.
"You don´t, you love me and that´s why you´ll be ready at eight." You´re already done for today, so you take a nice walk back into your apartment.
It´s not like you hate parties, but you´re just socialy awkward and you don´t really see the point of drinking tons of alcohol, making out with a stranger and having a hangover the next day. Maybe you actually do hate parties.
With a resigned sigh, you settle on an outfit that feels comfortable yet still a bit stylish. Black on black. It's not perfect, but it will have to do. Glancing at the clock make you realize that your friend will be here soon to pick you up, expecting you to be ready. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest. Maybe it doesn't matter what you wear—maybe it's just about showing up and enjoying yourself.
Enjoying yourself in a house full of alcohol, drugs, drunk and horny people. How can you enjoy yourself there? Oh god.
Your friend arrives right on time, honking the horn playfully to announce her presence. You grab your phone, keys and wallet and rush to her car.
Buckling up, you can't shake the anxiety gripping you. "I really hate parties," you admit with a sigh, meeting her gaze as she starts the engine.
She glances at you, empathy softening her expression. "I know you do," she acknowledges gently, her voice laced with understanding. "But tonight's going to be great. Just relax, enjoy the fun, and embrace your youth."
"Embrace your youth?" You roll your eyes. "I just never feel like I fit in."
"Trust me, once we get there, you'll see that no one cares, everyone is just in their little head, like you are." She smiles at you.
You fidget with your shirt, still hesitant. "What if I don't know anyone?" you ask, nerves creeping back in.
She reaches over, squeezing your hand comfortingly. "I'll be right by your side," she assures you, her reassurance grounding you.
And that was a lie.
"I´ll be back in a second," your friend said - and that was like a 40 minutes ago.
You glance around awkwardly, attempting to look engaged while secretly wishing for your friend to reappear. People bustle past, engaged in their own conversations and laughter, oblivious to your internal struggle.
A burst of laughter erupts nearby, drawing your attention momentarily. You force a smile, trying to appear approachable, but no one even looks at your direction. The music pounds in your ears, a constant reminder of the pulsating atmosphere you're trying to navigate alone.
"You look like you need some company," you hear raspy voice behind you and then you see a face, pretty face. Tall girl with long brown hair in a black skirt that falls to mid-thigh, paired with a dark gray long-sleeve shirt that drapes softly against her silhouette, her outfit complemented by a delicate necklace that adds a special touch to it all.
After you basically checked her up and down, you slightly shake your head, "not really, no." You sip from your drink that tastes like shit, "my friend just went to the bathroom."
"Are they okay? I mean being in the bathroom for," she looks at her phone, "over 30 minutes is a long time."
"How do you know that?!" You tilt your head as she leans closer to you.
"I know a lot of things, malysh. I also know that you need company or you gonna pass out from all the stuff that it´s happening in here, follow me." She offers you her hand.
"I´m not gonna follow a stranger somewhere… away from the crowd."
"I´m Wanda, you are?"
"(Y/N)."
"Now we´re not strangers," She takes your hand in her soft one. Oh her hands are nice. A sly smile as she leads you outside, on the roof to be specific. Suddenly the world goes quiet - yes, you still hear the music, but this feels way nicer and you breathe some fresh air.
"Better, (Y/N)?" Wanda smiles at you.
You nod, "yeah, a lot actually," you smile back at her.
Wanda nods, she walks further away from you, sitting on the edge of the roof, "this is my favorite spot."
"Oh, so this is your house?" You look around once more, then you go and join her.
Wanda nods, pulling a small bag with… weed. You look back at her.
"Shouldn't you be downstairs, enjoying your own party?" Your gaze drops to her hands, each adorned with unique silver rings that catch the light as she expertly crushes the dried herb in her grinder. With practiced finesse, she meticulously spreads the cannabis along the length of the rolling paper, ensuring an even distribution.
"My brother is enjoying that for the both of us," her fingers, nimble and fold the paper around the herb, creating a tight cylinder.
Once satisfied with the shape, she licks the edge of the paper, sealing it with a practiced flick of her tongue. And from her pocket she pulls out a black lighter. After few seconds the scent of cannabis permeates the air, blending with the distant bass thump of music from downstairs. She puts her lighter back into her pocket.
"So not a party person?" Your eyes are concentratates on her lips, she´s really beautiful.
Wanda exhales, her eyes scanning the horizon. "Parties can be… overwhelming," she admits. "I prefer quieter moments like this, where I can think and breathe."
You nod in agreement, "it's nice up here," you offer, glancing at her with a small smile. "Peaceful."
"Yeah," Wanda murmurs, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I come here a lot, away from the noise of the world."
As you both settle into a comfortable silence, you can´t help but glance at her time to time. The more you look at her, the more you find her beuatiful.
Wanda notices the way you´re basically staring at her, "would you like some?"
"Oh no, no, I- uh never had… that." You point to her blunt between her pretty fingers.
"Never?" Her smirk widens.
You shake your head at her question, "never."
"Wanna try it?" She take one more puff of the joint.
"I-" You want to try it. "I´m not sure." You manage to say.
Wanda smiles and nods, "Okay, no preasure here."
"No, I want to try it, I… I don´t know why I said I´m not sure…" your eyes went from Wanda to her fingers and then back up at her.
"Looks like you need to relax a bit." Your hand reaches for the blunt, but Wanda moves away, her fingers gracefully taking hold of it. Her touch is delicate yet firm as she brings the blunt to your lips, guiding it with a steady hand.
"Open, but don't inhale into your lungs," she instructs softly, her voice a soothing.
You follow her guidance, parting your lips as the tip of the blunt touches them. The smoke tickles your throat as you tentatively draw it in, but despite your efforts to follow Wanda's instructions, the unfamiliar sensation overwhelms you. The harshness of the smoke makes you cough.
"Oh god-" it feels like your insides are on fire.
"It´s okay," her other hand falls on your knee and softly rubs it up and down to sooth you, "let it all out."
After few deep breaths and few tears from your eyes, you finally speak, "that was… horrible."
Wanda chuckles, "the first time is always bad, unless you´re eating edibles."
"Can I try it again?" Your eyes meet Wanda´s ones, "please?" You add.
She smiles at your politeness and nods, bringing her hand back to your mouth, as you inhale a bit, you cough again. Her hand never left your knee, slowly running up and down to sooth you again.
"I don´t know what I though-" another absoutely horrible inhale, making you cought even more than the first try.
"It's okay," she reassures you, her voice calm and steady. "It takes time to get used to it. Just take it slow."
You nod, taking comfort in her words and the steadying touch of her hand. With each attempt, you feel a bit more at ease. Despite the coughing and the burning sensation in your throat, there's a strange comfort in sharing this moment with Wanda, her presence grounding you amidst the new experience.
"You're doing great," Wanda encourages, her smile warm and genuine. "It gets easier, I promise. And I think that for the first time, few puffs will be just enough for you." She chuckles.
Her encouragement fuels your determination, and you take another small puff, this time managing to hold it in for a moment before exhaling. The smoke swirls around you, mingling with the cool night air.
"See? Getting better already," Wanda praises, her hand still gently caressing your knee. The warmth of her touch feels so good.
You hum. "What's supposed to happen after smoking weed?" you ask, curiosity mingling with uncertainty.
Wanda smiles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, it varies from person to person, but usually, you start to feel more relaxed, maybe a bit giggly or nostalgic. It's different for everyone."
You nod, processing her words as the minutes tick by. Slowly, a warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body. Your mind begins to feel lighter, the edges of your thoughts softening into a pleasant haze. The world around you seems to take on a softer, more vibrant hue.
After some minutes of silence, Wanda notices the look on your face. "How are you feeling?"
You take a moment to consider, a small smile creeping onto your lips. "I feel… good. Warm. Like everything's a little more… interesting," you say.
Wanda's smile widens, and she nods in understanding. "That's the idea. It's all about letting go and enjoying the moment."
As you sit there, the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about everything and nothing—your favorite books, funny memories from childhood, and even some old cartoons you used to watch as a kid. Wanda listens intently, her laughter ringing out occasionally, filling the rooftop with a joyful sound.
At one point, you find yourself marveling at the stars above, their brilliance more vivid than ever. "Do you think there's life out there?" you ask, your voice dreamy and reflective.
Wanda tilts her head, considering the question. "I think the universe is too vast for us to be the only ones. It's kind of comforting, in a way, to think we're part of something much bigger."
You nod, feeling a profound sense of connection to the universe and to Wanda next you.
"You're really good at this," you say suddenly, looking at her with wide, appreciative eyes.
Wanda chuckles softly. "At what?"
"At making me feel… like it's okay to just be," you reply, your voice sincere.
Wanda's expression softens, and she reaches out to gently squeeze you thigh. "Happy to be at your service," she says simply.
You find yourself staring at Wanda, unable to tear your eyes away from her. The way her lips curve into a gentle smile, the way her eyes twinkle with a mixture of amusement and understanding—it's all captivating. The world around you blurs, leaving just the two of you in sharp focus.
Wow… why didn´t you come to the party before? It´s just so… fascinating.
Wanda notices your intense gaze and smiles knowingly. "You're adorable when you're high, you know that?" she says, her voice low and teasing.
You blush, but you can't look away. "Am I?" you murmur, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the weed.
Wanda leans in a bit closer, her eyes locked onto yours. "Absolutely. You have this… innocent charm. It's really endearing."
You giggle nervously, feeling your cheeks heat up. "You're not so bad yourself."
Wanda's grin widens. "Oh? What do you like about me?" she asks, her tone playful and flirty.
You bite your lip, feeling a surge of boldness. "You´re beautiful. So beautiful that I want to kiss you."
Wanda's eyes darken with interest, and she leans in closer, her lips just a breath away from yours. "Well, who am I to deny a request like that?" she whispers.
Before you can respond, Wanda's lips brush against yours, soft and tentative. The kiss is gentle at first, a sweet exploration. Your heart races, and you find yourself leaning into her, deepening the kiss. Wanda's hand slides up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing softly against your skin.
As you kiss, Wanda's other hand rests on your thig. "You taste sweet," she murmurs, her voice husky.
"And you taste like… heaven," you reply, feeling a little dazed but incredibly happy.
Wanda laugh at your words, finding it absolutely adorable how high you are, her eyes sparkling. "Heaven, huh? I like that."
The weed might be helping, but you truly feel like you´re in "heaven", you nodd.
"I think I'd prefer us both to be sober for the rest," she whispers, her eyes looking into yours. "How about we continue this on a proper date?"
You nod, your heart fluttering with excitement. "I'd like that," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
Wanda's smile widens, and she presses a quick, soft kiss to your forehead. "It's a date, then," she says, her tone filled with promise. There is a comfort silence, until she speaks again. "So, I guess I should ask for your phone number," she says, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
You giggle, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "Yeah, that would be a good idea," you reply, reaching into your pocket for your phone. Your hands are a bit shaky, but you manage to unlock it and hand it over to Wanda.
She types in her number, then hands your phone back to you. "There you go," she says, her smile warm and genuine. "Now we can plan our date."
You grin, calling her so she has your number as well. "I can't wait."
Just then, you hear your friend's voice calling your name from below. "(Y/N)! Are you up there?" she shouts, her tone a mix of concern and impatience.
You sigh, glancing at Wanda. "Looks like my friend is looking for me."
Wanda nods, her expression understanding. "Looks like we have to say our goodbyes," for the first time you can see Wanda´s smile dissapearing. "But tonight was fun. I'm really glad we met."
"Me too," you say, standing up and brushing off your clothes. As you move toward the door, your friend appears, her face a mix of relief and exasperation.
"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you," she says, crossing her arms. "It's late. We should get going."
"Here I am." You smile proudly.
"Goodnight, Wanda," you say softly.
Wanda smiles, her eyes warm and full of promise. "Goodnight. I'll text you soon," she winks.
As you and your friend walks back down, even at your state you can feel them staring, "we should party more often, it´s fun. Very fun." You mumble looking at her.
They look at you with suprise. "What made you change your mind? Your new friend?"
"Just the vibe is great and you know… it´s all about the vibes. And mostly pretty girls. Pretty girl." You smile to yourself thinking about Wanda again.
Your friend looks at you and it finally clicks, "oh my god, are you high?"
Thank you for reading, I had so much fun writing this hehe:)
#adele writes#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff fluff#stoner!wanda#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic
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hello!! could I please request prompt 25 with toshinori?
˚₊ ⊹ 25. The first makeout session that could lead to more + Toshinori Yagi
˚₊ ⊹ Warnings: dry humping, previous established new relationship, canon small-might, making out.
He was - grading papers? Finishing off a report on the last homework he set? Actually writing the next homework assignment in fact? Either way, his coffee table was strewn with papers, some in neat piles and some discarded none to kindly, caught under the fans of his laptop open on a word document baring names and grades and percentages he’s not really focusing on right now.
You came over a few hours ago with a bento box or two for the next days at school. It was just something you started doing for him, claimed it was because he wasn’t eating enough and that your love language was cooking food for people, but you loved that he would kiss your cheek and parade it around the school wrapped in its cute cloth with its cute bow. And you kind of never left, chatting idly with him from the kitchen while you brewed tea, something soft for him and a herby concoction for yourself, something to make you sleepy and all the more acceptable.
Toshinori could taste it in your mouth. The tea and something else, something distinctly you. Leaning backwards as you cup his sharp jaw, smiling when you hum and kiss his nose affectionately. There was something on the TV, something mind numbing and calm, a documentary about Geisha's he thinks but he's too focussed on his work, and on you. The futon you'd insisted on setting up for him was comfortable, soft and heavy at the same time, a perfect support for his back while he was tucked up by the coffee table while you lounged like a cat on the couch behind him, asking lazily every few minutes for a kiss. This was the first one on the mouth. You'd started on the back of his head, then on his long frazzled strands framing his face and then his forehead, then his nose and when you pecked his lips; Toshinori found himself chasing and chasing and chasing.
"Don't tell the kids that I abandoned their grades for you," he's twisted at a strange angle with his lips muttering yours, a prayer only for you to taste, "Aizawa'll kill me if he knew,"
You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed and drawing your hands up the sinewy expanse of his neck,
"You have your priorities in perfect order, thank you very much," Toshinori allows you to slink down to the floor, following the droop of your legs and curling into his lap with deep, yearning sigh "I require kisses and you're supplying them, you're serving your duty to your partner,"
He laughs and then moans with the shape of your lips on his jaw,
"I suppose, if you put it like that," he looks at you for a moment, a soft smile stretching over his features and you return it, a little something extra in your eyes he can't quite make out. You two had kissed before, a lot and often but this felt different, felt like honey trickling down his bones and crystallising hot in his belly. Toshinori hums with the tracing of your mouth over his neck, sucking something mean into his delicate skin and he shifts, hands settling on your hips.
Hips that slot deeper against his and give this shy little shudder. A large slender hand cups the back of your head where you practically vibrate against him, the air suddenly palpable and sweet. You think he might ask you to stop, that you've gone far enough and that he's not quite ready for anything more intense, given his injuries and situation and maybe he wants you to go home or even take a break or even -
"Do that again, please," he's far from sober, drinking your lips and swallowing your gushing whimpers, desperate for the kisses and the licks he's come to know so well. These are different, headier, a little smoky and a little dangerous, slow and hard and all things moreish. His free hand guides your hips, into what he's not sure but you gain confidence at his request, undulating with such wantonness that he's the first that moans out loud. Punched and loud and startling, Toshinori flushes right down to his stomach, peaking from where you'd shoved your hands under his shirt, hardly denting your frantic kisses. His grip is harsh, demanding and selfish, smoothing to your ass and this time it's you that grunts at the way he massages a spreads you, slouching lower and wider against the couch.
"I want - I wanna -," you're stuttering but it's from lust, from the sheer magnetic want for the man beneath you, heavy lidded and panting open mouthed, "Please, can we - we don't hav'ta but also, y'know?"
Toshinori kisses you again, slow and deliberate, decisive with his answer; wordless save for a whimper and a jerk.
all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#miko.prompt challenge#miko.chats#kisses u !!!#toshinori yagi x reader#all might x reader#all might smut#bnha smut#mha smut#bnha x reader#mha x reader
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Unprofessional Attraction | THREE
♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 23.6K ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff, ANGST, and explicit content (mdni), teacher/student relationship, some other members are featured, drinking alcohol, bigdick!yunho, pet names (angel, pretty, sweetheart, etc.), possessive/obsessive/toxic behavior, cunnilingus, hickeys, fingering, praise, unprotected sex, creampie(s), jealousy, blackmail ♡ A/N - I’m soooo sorry this took me forever to write (it’s so many words ahhh 🫠) but hopefully this is worth the wait. The next part will be the finale of this series. This also isn't beta read so I apologize for mistakes ahhh. I love ya’ll, thank you for your patience friends, STREAM GOLDEN HOUR ♡
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
“You could at least try a little harder to pretend you want to be here with me, ____.”
Wooyoung’s antsy fingers pinch at the straw of his drink while he watches you thumb away at your phone. Going back and forth with your friends in the group chat about Jongho’s upcoming recital is the only thing calming your nerves this afternoon. When you had agreed to his ruse, you didn’t realize you were signing up for public humiliation. Those two words might be a bit dramatic, but sitting together in the dead center of the campus food court has you immensely anxious either way. This is entirely way too public…
You don’t mean to offend him with your embarrassment. It’s not like Wooyoung isn’t handsome; in fact, that might make things worse. It helps draw in too much unnecessary attention from other women, and it feels as though there might as well be a spotlight circling your table. Luckily, Yunho has a lecture through the next hour today, so you’re not too concerned on that front. Regardless, your first fake date with him is starting to be nothing short of awkward.
“You can’t even look me in the eyes?” He inquires further.
“I’m sorry,” you find it within yourself to apologize, placing your phone face down on the table and sliding it away. To offset your anxiety, you put new effort into inspecting your food and preparing to finally eat it. Anything to just keep busy. “This is just a little out of my comfort zone.”
“Pretend I’m Mr. Jeong if that makes it easier,” he suggests, but his tone hangs on the edge of condescension. It’s not all that intentional, but he’s poking the bear. “I have access to the grade book all the same, you know.”
With narrowed eyes, you try to let his wisecrack roll off your shoulder, “That’s not a very funny joke.”
Continuing to avoid his eyes, Wooyoung watches you put all your attention into eating the meal he’s bought you so that you both can pretend to be on this lunch date. He was gracious enough to offer to pay for any meals you share moving forward, as long as it would make things easier on you while being a part of his plan. That’s what a real boyfriend would do anyway, right? Though, right now you’re not treating him like a boyfriend— you’re treating him like some kind of dirtbag with an open wallet. He can feel his own appetite slipping away slowly but surely.
“What are you both anyway, fuck buddies?” He asks a little too bluntly.
It might be a bit muffled, as your mouth is stuffed with food, but you still manage to retort, “That’s none of your business, actually.”
His increasing annoyance is evident by the deep exhale he tries (and fails) to suppress. Wooyoung doesn’t want things to be so tense, but you’re not exactly making it easy. He supposes you might gain some sympathy for him if he explains his troubles. You seem like a genuine person despite any contempt you might hold for him right now, so he figures you’ll be understanding. He needs to make conversation in some kind of way, anyway.
“How about I tell you a bit about my situation then?” He finally offers. You hum to let him know you’re listening, so he continues, “She and I were together for the last three years, but then she broke up with me a few months ago. And over something so stupid, really.”
“Go on,” you encourage, swallowing the bulk of food in your throat.
“Well, I need a master's degree to get the specific job I want… After telling her, one of her friends got in her ear about how me staying in school might hold her back after we graduate next year.” Wooyoung tries to sound indifferent to her friend’s heavy influence on her decisions, but the look behind his eyes, as he glances around to see if she’s in the area, says otherwise. It’s full of bitterness and hurt. “She wants to travel for a year before getting a job, and they told her I’d stress her out too much with a long-distance relationship. She took that to heart, for whatever reason.”
Would it be a lie if you said you didn’t support a tiny bit of actual pity towards Wooyoung? Probably. Knowing what you know now, you ponder more about the tight situation between you. He’s an intelligent guy, and you’re sure he knows exactly what Yunho is to you with the way you get touchy about his name even being mentioned. That’s why he’s using someone else’s happiness to retrieve his own once more. While that’s not exactly just, you’re aware that love makes people do crazy things. Moreover, you know you in particular can’t judge anyone after doing what you’ve done to achieve Yunho’s attention.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” is all you can reply, but it’s genuine.
Before you can process what’s happening, Wooyoung suddenly reaches across the table and links his fingers with your free hand in an act of endearment. Your cheeks prickle with heat, not from being charmed, but from more humiliation. This is embarrassing, suddenly having to do public displays of affection with someone you don’t even like in front of whoever is looking hard enough to notice.
“Don’t turn around, she’s here with a friend,” he mumbles, and then an affectionate smile tugs at his lips. It looks fairly genuine… He is much too good at looking charming on the drop of a dime. “Do you think it’d be too corny if we wore some matching outfits a couple times?”
You hesitate for the briefest second before squeezing his hand with false affection and leaning forward on your elbows to seem more interested.
Nobody is close enough to hear you reply, “Are you trying to win her back or get her to block you? Because I honestly can’t tell.”
“It’s just a little joke. Laugh a little, I beg,” Wooyoung pouts.
He leads your connected hand to fondle his cheek, trying to inconspicuously guide you through the motions. If Wooyoung didn’t know any better, he would assume you’ve never been on a date in your life. His hopes were much higher than this, as you’re much too pretty to be this stiff when it comes to showing affection. It almost has him second-guessing whether he’s right about you and Yunho being involved more than just sexually. Much to his surprise, your hand finally relaxes against his face, and he revels in the way you even stroke his skin with your thumb. The timing couldn’t be more ideal, truly. He can sense the attention of his intended audience, and the corners of his mouth curl into a subtle smirk of approval.
“That’s perfect. Keep going.”
“Don’t push it, please.”
For the rest of that week, Wooyoung insisted on repeating these kinds of daily rendezvous. This request also accompanied another for walking each other to class when applicable. He knew he couldn’t always time it right for when she’d be present, but he had his workarounds. He was fairly knowledgeable about a few of her friends’ class schedules, and he made it a point to walk with you on paths that would often intersect with those who he knew would inform her of his behavior instead. Occasionally, he would ask you to show up to school a little more fetching than usual, with prettier clothes and makeup. Wooyoung also made a point of concealing her identity from you, for reasons unbeknownst to you. He failed to tell you any more details about her after your first date, and that included basics as simple as her name. Several possibilities were considered when you finally identified this as a problem. The rational explanation would be that he doesn’t want you approaching her on your own time and taking things into your own hands. A particular irrational explanation starts infiltrating your thoughts with the more days that pass by bearing no evidence of progress:
“I’m starting to believe this ex of yours doesn’t exist.”
Your snide remark about his secrecy started as a joke.
“I have nothing to gain from lying to you.”
His terse reply didn’t necessarily extinguish the conspiracy behind your jest. After consistently being told not to look in certain directions for nearly two weeks, and no updates on her position, it became harder to believe his words. Despite everything, you do as you’re told and pray that his ex breaks through sooner rather than later.
I’m sorry.
It seems as though those two words haven’t stopped coming out of your mouth ever since you stepped foot in Yunho’s home this evening.
It begins with apologizing profusely for asking to come over on such short notice. Your complex’s Wi-Fi went out due to the wintery mix storm slamming the town tonight. Wooyoung’s been trying to lay it on thick the last few days and make your presence more than known to his ex, anywhere and every way that he can. Consequently, with a lot of your free time being taken away by him, you found little time to put towards important assignments due at the end of this week. The lack of Wi-Fi is the absolute last thing you need to happen right now.
Yunho doesn’t care about your abrupt presence at his door or even the way you track slush past his doorstep. He's more concerned about how you drove in the middle of a huge storm so late into the evening with no care for your safety. Over and over, you find new things to apologize for that make no sense to him. Another set of frazzled apologies comes from your mouth for keeping him up late after an hour or two passes. Yunho can’t help but genuinely laugh at this one.
“You do realize what day it is, right?” He inquires. The clueless look on your face makes him sit up, “It’s Saturday, ____. The day you typically come over and spend the night. I actually texted you about it earlier today, I didn’t know if you still wanted to or not since you were so busy last Saturday.”
This epiphany makes you immensely bashful and draws many more apologies out of you for your poor memory and lack of communication. How could I have lost time so badly that I forgot to reply to him about something we do so routinely? Under your stressful circumstances lately, your days are running together, and there’s just too much on your plate to appease everyone. Yunho visibly sees the shame blanket you from head to toe, and he hopes he didn’t come across as if he was upset with your behavior. In fact, he’s more concerned than anything.
Your lover can hear you type much faster after this brief exchange and he scoffs. Surely you don’t believe he’d willingly let you make haste of your work so you can disappear for another week or two… he groans internally when he realizes that’s exactly what you’re doing. He doesn’t understand why you’re so self-conscious and sheepish tonight, but he’s not going to press it. Instead, he rises from his spot on his couch and creeps over to where you’re seated at his table. His hands find the slopes of your shoulders and thumbs rub comforting circles into your muscles.
“You know you’re not going home tonight, right?” He questions after a moment of being nosey and peeking at your screen.
“And why not?”
The abrupt feeling of Yunho’s large palm skating up the skin of your throat before pushing your chin up to meet his gaze above you makes a chill run up your spine. His eyes are warm and concerned, yet stern.
“Because I said so,” he says point-blank.
Whether it be because of the terrible storm still slapping at his windows, or maybe even the fact that he hasn’t seen you outside of a classroom in quite some time, he knows this succinct answer suffices just as well those do. The subsequent pout on your lips to him is seen simply as an invitation to kiss them, and he does just that. You don’t even try to argue any further. It may not be your best work this semester, but it’s not too much longer after that when you finally submit everything due before its midnight deadline.
After briefly disappearing to his room to rummage through his dresser and change into something more comfortable, you eventually join him on the couch. Tonight’s position of choice has your head using his thighs as a pillow, cheek squished against his soft sweatpants as he spends endless minutes massaging the tense muscles of your back and shoulders with his fingers. He smells so good… that lavender and musk mix has you closing your eyes every handful of seconds just to breathe him in. Even if he can’t see your face, it’s obvious that you’re not paying attention to the movie he has on the TV, so he suggests that maybe you both should move to the bedroom so you can be more comfortable. You assure him that you’re more than comfortable right where you’re at, and that’s the truth.
Despite laying so peacefully with him, in what should be a moment of sedating intimacy, your mind is still reeling with things that need to be accomplished in the next few weeks. Every time you mentally check off something on your list, there are several more things added after, such as your three final exams, Yunho’s final paper, returning your textbook rentals, finally figuring out your ceremony dress, picking up your guests’ ceremony tickets–
“Are you going to attend my ceremony?”
Yunho hears you mumble this randomly after a while of sitting in comfortable silence. You’re sure he doesn’t need a ticket as a teacher, but the thought of having to get them brings you back to earth and reminds you of his presence.
“That was the plan,” he confirms, but hesitantly adds, “Unless you don’t want me there. I don’t want to make things awkward.”
The way you’re acting lately has him questioning things like this, now that he thinks about it. You immediately dispel his apprehension with a displeased grunt.
“No, I… really need you there.”
Yunho’s hand falters slightly in its kneading. He’s grateful that you’re unable to see his face with how you’re lying because the apples of his cheeks are taut from the overjoyed smile threatening to break through his lips. It’s one thing to be admired or adored by someone, but it’s another thing to be needed. He doesn’t hear that word often, if at all, but hearing it come from your mouth makes it even more monumental to him. That’s something he could get used to. Yunho hums in understanding, wordlessly confirming that he’ll be present. Following along the topic of graduation, he decides to ask something present on his mind recently.
“Have you thought about what you want to do after graduation?”
“Career-wise or celebration-wise?”
“Whichever… or both.”
You close your eyes to think. Nothing immediately comes to mind in terms of celebrating, but you’re sure your friends will be holding parties to attend. Putting that aside, you turn over and decide to open up a bit about your impending employment.
“I had a great internship last semester that I put my all into,” you divulge, “They wanted to bring me on full-time, so I asked if they could hold the position and wait for me to finish my degree this semester. Lucky me, they agreed.”
“Already set up for success right after you leave that stage… You’re amazing,” Yunho marvels. “I suppose I’m just as lucky too, huh? I get to watch you shine, front row.”
There’s a brief moment where you peer up and match his fond smile that’s already beaming right back down at you. When you reach up to caress his cheek, Yunho leans into your touch as if it’s second nature. The further you both dive into this relationship, it feels as though maybe you’ve finally found an additional frontline cheerleader.
“Mhm, something like that,” you tease. When he turns to kiss your palm in his form of congratulations, you sigh. Your hands have been tainted by someone else’s touch, and here he is blindly showing them genuine affection. Before you can help it, another apology comes out, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, Yu.”
“Why do you keep apologizing tonight for things you can’t control?” The gentle, unsuspecting laugh he lets out makes the guilt sitting in your chest about Wooyoung just a little bit heavier. “It’s finals season, I know how it goes.”
When your hand returns to your chest, your gaze falls just the same. He’s right, albeit unknowingly. With those words, you can finally accept that you have no control over your current situation at all. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself that you’re guiding this blackmail ship forward, you’re just not. In any case, you still feel like you’re doing what’s best for Yunho's future. Tonight’s tornado of apologies have all been unconscious overcompensation. As much as you feel like you need to, you know you shouldn’t have to apologize for your shortcomings when they result from such unmanageable circumstances. You’re doing your best, even if your best isn’t enough just yet.
Yunho can’t figure out what it is about tonight, but you seem like your head is a bit more in the clouds than usual. You’re here with him physically, but he can tell you’re somewhere else mentally. However, he acknowledges that he could be reading into things too much since it’s been a while since you both have spent time privately.
“Hey, stargazer, everything okay?” he finally asks in a soft voice, gently tugging on your cheek to bring you back to the present.
“Sorry—yeah, everything’s alright,” you reassure him. There’s something behind those soft eyes you’re giving him that makes him question your answer, but he keeps those concerns to himself and simply nods. “Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll make it up to you when this is all over with, I promise.”
You’re no longer talking about school with those words. He’ll probably never truly understand how much weight that sentence holds, but that’s okay. For the rest of your time with him tonight, you pretend that none of your problems exist outside his home. He deserves your unwavering attention tonight, at the very least.
On the first day of the following week, Wooyoung requests your presence in front of some familiar dormitories. It’s been quite some time now since you’ve been on this side of campus, considering you moved into your current apartment around the end of your junior year. The nostalgic feeling you get when meandering your way to your meeting place doesn’t do much to alleviate the anxiety you regularly get every time Wooyoung brings you somewhere so populated.
“What are we doing here again?”
“I heard she’s swinging by here today to drop something off for a mutual friend,” he explains while his eyes still scope the area for her presence, as usual.
You busy yourself with playing on your phone, keeping your head down and yourself hidden for as long as you can manage. This place, while technically not as densely populated as the dining space you frequent, has too many opportunities for lurking gazes. This particular set of dormitories sits on the side of campus that encompasses a good amount of academic halls and the largest campus library. There are plenty of teachers and students walking to classes or accessing the library, and even more lingering outside within the surrounding courtyard despite the frigid weather. Wooyoung had insisted on holding you by your waist for the time being as well, citing something about how “normal couples warm each other up”. You just want this to be over with as quickly as possible before too many people can see you both standing so close together.
“Hey, ____,” Wooyoung hums after a while, catching your attention quickly.
“Hm?”
Before you can even fully look up from your phone, Wooyoung’s head dips down and seeks out your lips. Shock is an understatement; the feeling of your heart seizing in unison with your limbs makes you feel like you might as well be flatlining. This cannot be—
“Relax,” he whispers before deepening this kiss, interrupting your thought as his tongue enters your mouth.
Reluctantly, you do as he says and try your best to relax while kissing him back. Over and over, you remind yourself this is supposed to be putting on a show in front of his ex. You try to allow yourself to fully slip into the role you have been forced to play. Your hands find purchase on his jacket, albeit uneasily. For someone who’s making your life so much more difficult, you can’t deny he’s at least a decent kisser. This moment feels like it lasts entirely too long, but eventually, Wooyoung pulls away and you watch his eyes dart around somewhere behind you.
“She’s gone now,” he sighs, “Pretty sure she saw that though. Nice job.”
“Don’t ever do that without warning me beforehand again,” you scold him in a voice low enough for his ears to hear only. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, though he follows up with an apology. Even though it seems genuine, it does nothing to quell the immediate guilt that washes over you the moment you go to swipe saliva off of your lips with your thumb. The nauseous feeling stirring in your stomach over simply kissing someone else other than Yunho begins to build up and feel unbearable, “Can I go now? I’m supposed to meet with a teacher during their office hours soon.”
Despite the tremor of uneasiness in your voice, Wooyoung believes your lie without question. That uneasiness doesn’t depart your system for the remainder of the day even after removing his presence, and you decide to call it quits early instead of attending your final class. This feeling of guilt, almost as if you cheated while in a relationship, has you more saddened than frustrated tonight. To make things easier to deal with, you repeat the same phrase about you and Yunho in your head over and over.
It’s okay, we’re not together yet.
While you cook yourself dinner–
It’s okay, we’re not together yet.
While working on your final paper–
It’s okay, we’re not together yet.
Yunho’s failure to text you back that evening before going to bed makes that fact easier to swallow. It’s the truth, so it shouldn’t be so hard to digest, right?
Yeosang does not expect much when he asks you out of the blue the next day to come and spend time with him after school. His roommate is gone for the week to visit family and he’s all by his lonesome. For the majority of the month, he’s become used to you declining in favor of completing overdue work. He’s not used to you being so behind on your work, and it doesn’t quite make sense to him when other times you say you’re even busier throughout the day. You look a bit more drained than usual when he Facetimes you that afternoon to suggest it, but he figures he wouldn’t be that upset to hear another no if you need the rest.
The answer was yes, for the first time in a while.
As luck would have it, the imaginary shackles on you had been released for the day, and having time to yourself for an entire weekday almost felt strange. Your personified migraine had texted you early in the morning informing you he’d be out of town for the day to attend some seminar that you didn’t care enough to remember the details of. Yeosang doesn’t do a good enough job concealing his shock the moment confirmation comes from your mouth, and you feign offense.
“I'm being punked, right?”
You scoff, “I don’t like the way you’re acting like this is bizarre, loser.”
You both know that’s a fairly accurate word considering your disappearances these last couple of weeks. His broad smile at your usual banter makes you feel cherished and missed, and it’s comforting for him to know you still have such a sense of humor even through your fatigue. He’s secretly been concerned for your well-being, but he didn’t want to seem meddlesome. Eventually, you go from two faces on a screen to you perched at his kitchen table. Yeosang insisted he cook you a nice homecooked meal when you mentioned to him in passing how much you miss eating his food. His back might be turned away, but he’s still actively engaging in discussion with you over the controversial love triangle taking place on the dating reality show he has you catching up on with him tonight. Toward the end of an episode, it takes you a few minutes of rambling to realize your best friend has grown silent while he cooks. Behind your back, he’s busy ruminating over thoughts of love triangles when he decides to finally uncork the bottle he’s been keeping closed in an attempt to have a peaceful evening.
“Can I ask you a question?” Yeosang calls out suddenly over the sound of oil popping in his pan.
Your eyes stay glued to the television, but you hum in consent, “What’s up?”
“Is it true that you’re dating Wooyoung?”
Wooyoung.
His name is a burden to you these days; the syllables of it only bring you discomfort. Hearing it mentioned on a day when you almost felt like you could get away from him draws a long beat of silence from you, though Yeosang doesn’t turn around to confront such silence. He allows you the time to answer however you’d like to if you would even provide one. Even though he was somewhat putting you on the spot with such a question, Yeosang is still your best friend at the end of the day. He’s not the kind of person to pressure you or give you a hard time about your private business, despite the times he rags on you in jest.
The truthful answer is right on the tip of your tongue, begging to be shouted, but you don’t have the strength to say such a thing yet. Instead, you inquire, “Who did you hear that from?”
You don’t mean to, but you sound a bit miffed when asking. Until this point, you had hoped your fake relationship with Wooyoung wasn’t too obvious to those who don’t pay close enough attention, but the feeling of failure is now pooling in the depths of your stomach. You should’ve known better.
“When someone begins getting close to the TA who’s in charge of their grades, I guess it’s understandable that there would be some rumors… Some people in our class are saying you’re together now,” Yeosang explains, voice as calm as ever while he continues to push around the meat in the pan. “I overheard those speculations and I didn’t really believe any of it at all. Unlike them, I know you’re already seeing Mr. Jeong.”
Yeosang pauses to allow you a chance to say any words you wish to insert if anything. Being amongst speculations of wooing someone to raise your grades is the least of your worries, and you honestly couldn’t care less if people believed such silly things in the last semester of your college career. At this moment, you are much more concerned about Yunho catching light of such rumors, or really anything regarding you and Wooyoung in the same sentence reaching his ears. It didn’t seem that way when you were both in each other’s presence a few days ago talking about your future, and you’re sure that he would’ve confronted you about such things if he could. Still…
“I’m not dating Wooyoung, nor would I even think of doing that for my grades. You know me, Yeo.”
You’re sure Yeosang can feel your eyes gazing over at him now, boring anxious holes through his back. You know he can hear the uneasiness plaguing you, making your words waver.
“I understand, I do. It’s just…” Yeosang pauses once more to find the right words that don’t sound so accusatory, “Hongjoong told me he saw you both on each other on his way to class the other day. I figured I’d simply ask you about that before I come to any conclusions, that’s all.”
Several beats of silence pass before you feel like you’ve finally drowned deep in this ocean of stress you’ve been trying to keep afloat in.
“Yeosang, I’m in over my head and I can’t handle this anymore.”
Yeosang finally ceases his stirring and peers over at you the moment the last syllable leaves your lips. This is the first time you’ve both met each other’s eyes since he began cooking and his gaze is undeniably the most concerned you’ve seen him give you in years. He can’t help it when he can so clearly hear the hurt in your voice. He knows you’re a bit more reserved these days when talking about your relationship with your teacher, and he understands that it could be out of respect for his privacy. This moment doesn’t seem like a situation where that’s applicable anymore.
Navigating this situation all by yourself is draining.
These last months in college are supposed to be nerve-wracking in an exciting way, finishing finals and prepping yourself to walk across the stage for your diploma. You’re supposed to be anxious about what to wear and how to do your makeup for your ceremony, about how you should smile when the ceremony’s photographer tells you where to look as you grab that fake symbolic roll of paper. Instead, you’ve been running yourself dry trying to appease a man who’s threatening to ruin one of the best things to happen to you thus far in life. You just want to be happy. Yeosang was right in warning you about playing with fire when pursuing Yunho, but it all still hurts so fucking badly.
“I want to help you ____, but you have to be honest with me,” he stresses, “I’m concerned about you. Tell me what’s wrong, please.”
You’re uncomfortably silent for a moment, eyes glued to his while contemplating his words. At last, you decide to broach the subject of all your mental stress. If you trusted anyone to help you navigate this situation, it was going to be him. This was no longer something you could handle on your own.
“I’m being blackmailed by Wooyoung.”
The words don’t even sound real coming out of your mouth when you finally betray the promise of silence you made to Wooyoung.
Yeosang’s brows draw together even closer in concern, “What?”
“Wooyoung found out that Yunho and I are together,” you confess further, words running out as quickly as you can think to say them, “And now he’s forcing me to date him to make his ex jealous. He wouldn’t stay quiet otherwise, and it’s all my fault, Yeosang. It’s all my fault.”
Your best friend pushes his pan away from the eye of the stove and makes haste over to where you’re sitting. He knows you better than you know yourself sometimes, already sensing you crumbling before you can realize that you’re finally breaking down. All of the pent-up stress over the last couple of weeks was finally taking its toll.
“I thought it would be over quickly, but it doesn’t seem like we’re making any progress,” you sputter, putting your head in your hands and pressing your palms to your eyes. The last thing you want to do is cry over a man who doesn’t deserve your tears. “He won’t even tell me who she is. I can’t handle this anymore, I just can’t.”
Yeosang’s arms wrap around you to ground you before you can allow yourself to descend further into your breakdown. Very few times has he seen your foundation be shaken so badly by something. You’re one of the strongest people he knows, and it takes a lot to disintegrate the fortitude you hold. He knows he can help you build it back later, he’s your best friend for a reason. For right now, though, he’ll let you get everything out that you’ve been holding in and dealing with by yourself. He knows you probably had your reasons to keep such things inside and away from him.
“He kissed me yesterday and I felt so guilty for the rest of the day, like I betrayed Yunho,” you tell him, and before you realize it tears are finally brimming in your eyes.
“Be kind to yourself, ____,” Yeosang hums while he holds your face in his hands. “You didn’t do that because you wanted to, it’s okay. You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore, okay?”
Hearing those words for the first time since this all began allows a veil of peace to cover you and you nod, finally accepting your need for help. Yeosang promises you that he will do whatever he can to find out who Wooyoung has his sights set so heavy on without interfering enough to throw things out of kilter. His help could be the only chance you had at getting this charade to end faster, even if it meant riskily trying to nudge things along behind Wooyoung’s back. You were no longer satisfied with being patient, and you now realize you don’t have to settle for that anymore.
While you might’ve gained some peace that night, around 2 AM that morning, there is no peace to be found in the home of your lover.
Yunho’s been staring at his ceiling for the last hour, unable to sleep even though he knows he needs to be up in a handful of hours for work. He had tried to push this situation plaguing his thoughts out of his mind all day yesterday, but his brain does its worst on nights when he’s left to his own devices and his thoughts spiral. At least tonight it’s not for self-sabotaging reasons like he’s prone to.
He allows himself to close his eyes and relive the moment when he saw you and his assistant kissing on his way to a multi-department meeting at the library. The moment he recalls the way your hands were clutching Wooyoung’s chest, he grimaces with unadulterated resentment. For the entirety of yesterday, he felt numb. He went through the day simply going through the motions, lacking any of his usual charisma and cordiality amongst most people he crossed paths with throughout the day. He was able to put on a mask for his students at the very least. How is one supposed to act when they see their girlfriend kissing another man? That’s when he has to remind himself:
She’s not my girlfriend.
At least, he doesn’t know if you are or not, since you haven’t said it out of your mouth yet. This is exactly the kind of bothersome bullshit he was so worried about weeks ago when he realized the severity of his feelings for you. He should’ve had the conversation with you earlier to see where your head was at, but he put it off for so long under the excuse of being afraid of scaring you off. He wonders if maybe you think he’s not serious about you enough since he’s never brought it up first. And sure, he knows you both aren’t technically together right now, but you could’ve at least let him know that you’re seeing more people than him, right? It hurts a little more that it’s also his assistant of all people.
He turns onto his side in a huff and buries himself deeper under his blanket. Yunho wishes he hadn’t fallen for you so hard. It’s hard enough to deal with his feelings as things are now, especially with the circumstances, but the introduction of competition might just drive him insane. She’s a grown woman and she’s allowed to do whatever she wants, he reminds himself reluctantly while closing his eyes once more, but again—a heads-up would’ve been nice. He doesn’t even know how to approach this situation moving forward. How is he supposed to look you in the eyes today during class?
The answer is that he doesn’t.
If he can help it, he actively avoids those engaged eyes of yours while he goes on for an hour about pragmatics. He doesn’t even look over at your side of the room. It’s not until the mid-class break that he takes multiple swift glances over at you chatting with Yeosang about something that’s got you enthusiastic. That smile on your face while excitement physically pours out of you makes his eyes soften. He wonders if you’re discussing graduation, as it is coming up in some weeks now. Then, he remembers that he wanted to take you away or do something relaxing to celebrate since you seemed to not have existing plans. Would that sway you back over to his side, if he planned something nice and spoiled the surprise early? Before he can even finish that train of thought, he finds himself finally meeting your eyes while you briefly let yours wander around in the middle of a sentence. The sneaky flirtatious wink you send his way makes him clear his throat bashfully and adjust his tie.
Yunho spends the remainder of class discussing the final paper and offering to read any final drafts that people would like feedback on, as long as they’re submitted by a specific date. He knows he’s probably shooting himself in the foot by putting that kind of work on his plate so close to the deadline, but he genuinely wants people to do well on his final and he knows there are quite a few seniors in this particular class section. The least he can do is make sure those of you end your college careers with a satisfactory grade to finish off your transcripts. He did very well with his midterm evaluations as well, so he wants to do the same for his finals.
When class ends, Yunho finally takes notice of how Wooyoung has been leaving as early as everyone else lately. He could’ve sworn Wooyoung used to stick around to ask him questions, and often times he even departed after Yunho had already departed. He also notices that you are nowhere to be found now even though Yeosang is still present, seemingly already having fled the room for one reason or another. He doesn’t want to think about if he’s been so oblivious to these kinds of things up until this point, but the thought of you and Wooyoung rushing to meet up after his classes sticks with him for the rest of the day.
Yunho can admit he’s a bit toxic sometimes.
It happens in moments of weakness where he lets his selfishness outweigh anything else. He reasons to himself that this isn’t one of those situations as he stands in front of your apartment door late into the evening of that same day. He had called you and asked if he could come see you at your place, which rarely happens. While it caught you by surprise, and you were in the midst of work, you were still as welcoming as ever. He knows you’d never say no. He’d never admit it aloud, but he’s not solely here just to see you—he’s here to be a bit nosy.
It’s freezing outside, so when you finally open the door he’s scrambling to get inside.
“That was fast,” you marvel.
When you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug, your shivers and giggles are like white noise in his ears as his eyes sweep the room. He doesn’t notice anything out of place, nothing that would make it seem like anybody other than you had been present here anytime soon anyway. His cold hands slide up the slope of your back to cup the sides of your face, and he offers you a sweet closed-mouth smile before briefly pressing his lips to yours in greeting.
“Yeah, traffic was pretty non-existent,” he hums.
“I made soup since it’s so frosty,” you glance towards the kitchen as your hands go to unzip his jacket for him, “Are you hungry?”
“If you’re cooking, always.”
Tonight, Yunho takes things slow.
From graciously eating your cooking to cuddling on your couch, he builds up the intimacy minute by minute. It’s something he’s been craving from you lately, that feeling of intimacy and domestication. He’s more than willing to indulge you when grow aroused by something as innocent as him mindlessly drawing shapes on your thighs with his fingers, slowly shifting them inside your pajama shorts when you whisper, “I want you to touch me.”
“I’m already touching you, baby.”
You push his hand just a smidge lower, whining, “You know what I mean.”
When things finally move to the bedroom, Yunho fucks you nice and slow, and it feels much more intimate than any of your previous times together. Slow, steady rolls of his hips into yours like he’s intent on showing you every ounce of love he holds for you in his body if he’s unable to say it outright himself. Nothing inherently strikes you as odd about the way his demeanor is different tonight. In fact, this kind of pure intimacy is something you’d been curious to experience from him. It almost makes you feel like you’re officially together. Sure, sex is naturally intimate, but this? This feels different.
His hands go from holding yours beside your head so affectionately to passionately gripping and kneading the plush skin of your sides and thighs like they’re fresh dough. It’s like he’s trying to solidify that this is reality, that you’re truly here in his hands and not someone else's. Grip strong enough to dig deep into the tissue and make you moan, but gentle enough not to leave bruising marks. Truth be told, he’d rather leave marks of where he’s been in less covert places. That’s why his mouth subconsciously finds its way to your neck before you feel the gentle drag of his teeth on your skin. It’s too quick to even be considered a warning.
“Yu, wait–”
You begin to tell him he can’t leave hickeys in such open places, but Yunho quiets you by sucking your skin anyway. The first one is on the tender skin just under your jaw, right where he can feel the pulse of how fast your heart is beating with his tongue. The desperate whine you let out when he finally lets up with a quiet pop! of his lips off your skin encourages him to put another on the column of your throat. You’ll probably throw a fit later when you see how bad these are and complain about the trouble of covering them up, but he really couldn’t care less.
When he finishes off the second hickey, he kisses his way up to your lips so sweetly as if he didn’t do something so obviously possessive. As if he didnt do something so mischievous which’ll draw questions from your friends and get you flustered trying to explain. These marks are warnings as much as they are bites of love. You throw your arms around his neck and arch your back, itching for more than what he’s offering. It doesn’t matter that it still feels euphoric, those long drags of his cock against your walls just to fill you up again—it’s too slow. The breathy laugh he lets out against your lips draws a pout from your own.
“What’s wrong pretty girl, don’t I make you feel good?” Yunho asks in a whisper, deep chocolate eyes holding your gaze while he continues to roll his hips at his leisure. He doesn’t like that he needs a bit of reassurance right now, but he wants to hear it so badly. When you nod with fervor, it’s just not good enough for him, “Tell me, angel. Tell me how good I make you feel.”
“You’re everything I crave, Yu,” you oblige him breathlessly, hands scratching at the sensitive nape of his neck while you arch again. For the first time this evening, Yunho’s hips falter in their steady rhythm. He’s quite caught off guard by your choice of words; it’s as if you know exactly what he needs to hear more than he does himself. “Nobody could ever make me feel like you do.”
“Yeah? This pretty pussy needs me, huh?”
There’s that word that he now loves so much: need.
“More than you know,” you gasp when he pushes his hips into yours as deep as he can manage, obscenities bubbling from within your chest.
Even though you both have had sex many times since this all began, this part still feels fresh. The way he manages to reach new depths inside of you and stretch you out to his heart’s content feels fresh every single time. Yunho’s thrusts begin picking up some speed finally and whines claw at his throat.
“My sweet, needy baby… You’re the only one who gets this, ____,” he admits, voice trembly while he drags his lips against the sensitive skin of your jaw, kissing his previous artwork, “It’s all yours, okay?”
In a perfect world, he’d love to hear you say the same back to him, but he’s snapping his hips too roughly now to allow for words. The way you begin begging for him to give you more of himself makes up for it. Bitten-off moans tumble from your lips as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, and it makes his cock throb and ache for release. The way you’re chanting his name has his eyes fluttering up in bliss. There’s no doubt in his mind that you want him, mentally and carnally, but the real question is if he’s not enough to satisfy that want. Yunho doesn’t have time to let his mind wander off into that kind of insecure territory. His brain becomes fuzzy as he becomes eager to feel you cum stuffed full of his cock, and then see his own paint your sweaty skin. Those familiar heavy pants he lets out against your lips make you simper.
“Getting close?”
“So close,” he nods, hissing when he feels you clench at his answer, “H-hah, oh fuck.”
“Wanna cum inside?” You offer this so shyly against his lips that he nearly doesn’t hear you talking altogether. When he offers you an absentminded ‘huh’ in response, you giggle and move to speak directly in his ear, “Want you to cum inside.”
Something behind Yunho’s eyes changes when you pull back—those blown-out pupils of his with little hearts swimming in them zero in on yours with a look you can’t quite put your tongue on. You cross your ankles behind his back to emphasize your words, to show him you’re serious.
“Really want me to fill you up, pretty?” he rasps. When you bite your bottom lip and nod, he offers you a lopsided grin, “Use those fingers and catch up, then.”
You don’t need to be told twice, one hand moving from being around his neck down to your clit to rub quick circles that’ll push you over the edge together. He’s never cum in you ever since you both started having sex, but he’s feeling overwhelmingly possessive today and it might just subside if he sees his cum leaking from your cunt onto your sheets. It’s now the only thought screaming at him in that fucked-out head of his. Your mouths connecting in a messy, sensuous kiss is the final push he needs.
Yunho’s fingers wind deep into your sheets with as much strength as he can muster while he buries himself inside you, pelvis to pelvis, pushing you deeper into your mattress. The throb of his cock and the broken moan he lets out while he finally cums trigger your own orgasm. The moment you lock your legs around him to keep him in place, your walls flutter and squeeze his cock to help milk him dry. He makes a note somewhere in the lusty haze of his mind that he just has to get you both to cum at the same time like this again at another point in time because the way you’re practically squeezing every last drop from him while you fall apart is nearly making him whimper repentance for how sinful it feels. When your legs let up on their grip, he gives you a few shallow thrusts before finally pulling out. Focusing on catching your breath is hard when he’s gazing so heavily at the mess he’s made of you.
“Don’t stare...” Yunho doesn’t even realize he’s been fascinated with watching the way his seed spills from your heat until you poorly block it with a self-conscious hand. Only then does he finally look up and find you flustered, the pout on your face growing more prominent by the second, “It’s embarrassing...”
“God, you’re so fine,” he coos. The jolt your body produces when he takes his fingers and pushes what’s been wasted back into your sensitive hole makes him laugh. “Even prettier like this too. Let’s get you cleaned up, pretty baby.”
Yunho hadn’t originally planned on sleeping over—it is a weekday after all, and he has work tomorrow morning. After showering, though, his willpower is tested. He loses nearly all his self-discipline to leave like a responsible man when you use this irresistible voice the moment he steps foot back into the room, humming honeyed words while holding his briefs behind your back to keep him from getting dressed.
“Can’t you just wake up early to swing by your house and get ready?” You eventually pout up at him when he looks as if he might change his mind. With the way your gaze is focused on his attentive eyes, you can’t see the way his cock is already twitching back to life again at your pleading eyes, the same ones you use on your knees between his thighs. He’s so thankful for that. “This is why I said you should leave some outfits over here just in case.”
“I know, I know. I should listen to you more. Can I please have my underwear back now?”
“Are you gonna stay? Please?”
He chuckles before finally conceding, “I can’t say no when you ask me so nicely, can I?”
You nearly fall apart at the way he pulls your face up by your cheeks with firm fingers before planting a kiss of surrender on your lips. Yunho doesn’t even remember why he’s over your house anymore, now only focused on getting his underwear back from your hands before you can see him getting hard all over again. He has enough sense to know that a second round will surely be much longer than the previous one, and you both need to sleep soon if he wants to wake up early enough. Lucky for him, you’re much too tired from a full day to stay up too much longer anyway.
It’s 8 AM when Yunho’s phone starts chiming with an annoying tone he set specifically to force his awakening. That grating sound is also your punishment for persuading him to spend the night. He’s slow to turn it off specifically for that reason, and a lazy smile stretches across his face when he hears you groan. Success.
“You’re so annoying,” you murmur. You instinctively search for your phone on your nightstand to glance at how early your lover has you suffering, then slowly slide yourself out of bed to go blindly search for a bottle of water.
Yunho screws his eyes shut and open a few times to regain his vision before flipping over and patiently awaiting your arrival. He gave himself a fairly decent buffer on the off chance you decide to stay awake and eat breakfast with him. At least, that was the plan until something happened that immediately changed his brain chemistry. Yunho’s eyes swivel towards your phone when it vibrates a couple of times on the nightstand. It really wouldn’t have been a problem had he not seen and recognized the name on the screen. Against his better judgment, he picks it up gently. He sees two older notifications from the prior night and the two new ones now piquing his interest.
[Wooyoung: Don’t forget lunch tomorrow]
[Wooyoung: Usual place]
...
[Wooyoung: Good morning]
[Wooyoung: If you get on campus by 10 let's do breakfast instead, they’ll be there. lmk]
His eyes constrict to slits almost instantaneously.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…
He doesn’t care that it's petty, he swipes each of the message notifications and deletes them with a pool of satisfaction boiling in the deepest pit of his stomach. You were too busy with him last night to notice his other messages anyway. If he could delete those messages permanently, he would. Realistically, there was no way he could keep you from eventually meeting up again with Wooyoung, but maybe distracting you enough to be late could be worth being a bit late to his own obligations. He’s extra needy on purpose this morning, immediately seeking out your attention the moment you groggily slip back into bed after chugging water. Feeling his warm hands grope your butt just makes you groan in that special kind of annoyance that naturally comes with waking earlier than need-be. When his fingers travel to fiddle with the elastic of your panties, an indirect request of sorts, you muster enough energy to nudge him weakly.
“S’too early, Yu,” you pout without even opening your eyes and bury your cheek deeper into your pillow.
“I know, I know. I have to leave soon,” he acknowledges. Still, his hand dances its way into the fabric. He watches you shudder when his middle finger pushes against your clit experimentally. His brow lifts when you open your legs. He licks his lips eagerly before murmuring, “You don’t even have to do anything, I’ll take good care of you. Go ahead and rest, okay?”
The hum you let out, signaling him to do as he pleases, has him gently working your panties down your legs and tossing them on the floor. He spends all the time he can, all the way until the last few minutes before he has to leave, with his face buried between your tired thighs. Always a starved man when it comes to your greedy cunt, the one that he confirmed last night needs him oh so much, he french-kisses his way into a sore tongue and a stiff jaw.
“Mhm, that’s it,” he talks directly to your heat, holding open your lips with his thumbs while watching the way slick, cum, and spit seep out to sully your sheets, “Gimme another one.”
Sleepy whines and garbled whimpers of his name have him rutting his hips against your bed. He would touch himself if he could, but his hands are too busy massaging your tense thighs in rhythm with his aching tongue lapping at your clit. The friction isn’t enough. He supposes his poor underwear will just have to suffer from precum leaking out his deprived cock, drenching the fabric the more he gets aroused. Each orgasm he’s able to pull from you drains your body of its energy more and more until you’re a meek puddle of fatigue splayed out on your mattress.
Yunho doesn’t remember what number orgasm his mouth finally parts from your core, but at some point, he finally reminds himself that he’s a man with responsibilities who still has to go home and change into his work clothes. He also needs to take care of this painful hard-on quickly when he gets somewhere private. Self-admittedly, this all was as rewarding to himself in fulfilling it as it was to you receiving. Seeing you absolutely spent and on the verge of (hopefully) deep sleep puts a shameless smile on his face.
He’s still a gentleman above anything else, taking the extra time to clean your skin and the mess he’s made of your cunt with a wet cloth before lovingly redressing you in your undies. He doesn’t even know if you can hear him after a certain point, but he still tucks you back in and whispers sweet nothings that he’ll overthink about later when he’s in his office after remembering why he was here in the first place. He even apologizes for ruining your sheets, again. The timid, fleeting kiss he leaves on your temple is followed by him carelessly saying, “Love you.”
The moment those two words tumble from his lips his eyes grow wide, and he waits with bated breath to see if you are even the slightest bit awake to hear his blunder. When you show no signs of stirring, Yunho releases all air caged within his chest and decides it’s best to leave quickly before he can make a fool of himself any further. You don’t hear from him for the rest of the day.
-
“I see… so she does exist,” you mutter sarcastically.
At the end of the week, following your shared linguistics lecture, you and your best friend convene at a table deep in the back of the library. Yeosang had spent a good amount of his time in the last few days covertly asking questions about Wooyoung to random acquaintances in hopes of getting bits of useful information about him or his ex. He was finally able to give you her name and class year, but he came up short otherwise.
“I wasn’t able to get any of her socials, I didn’t want to seem like I was pursuing her. However, I do have another idea,” he says, hands motioning for you to hear him out after he sees your spirits drop, “I was told she’s in Hongjoong’s capstone class and–”
“Oh brother,” you groan and sink further into your seat.
If Yeosang’s words days ago were anything to go by, Hongjoong was already convinced you were dating Wooyoung, so asking him for his ex-girlfriend’s number is surely just going to cause prying questions. You’re fully convinced that he probably won’t even consider giving it to you because he might think it’ll lead to drama.
“I know. Just hear me out,” Yeosang leans forward and lowers his voice, “I honestly don’t think it would be hard to get him to tell you. If you can come up with a plausible reason why you would need to reach out, I think he wouldn’t hesitate too much.”
“Which would be?”
“Well, I don’t know anything about her other than that she’s in a sorority. You can figure something out from that, right?”
You couldn’t deny that this was definitely a useful piece of information. Yeosang watches you purse your lips while you toss around some of the logistics in your head before nodding with some renewed optimism.
“Which app do you think I should start on?”
“I’m sure the majority of our sororities have IG pages to promote their activities. That’s probably your best bet,” he recommends, “I can help you search in between finals prep–”
“You’ve done enough, I can definitely handle that part,” you interject with a reassuring smile, “Thank you for even getting this info. I appreciate it, Yeo.”
While things definitely looked more positive from this conversation, there was an odd feeling lingering in your stomach over the next few days. From his time at your home through the weekend, Yunho’s communication and presence were lacking a bit more than usual. While it made things easier for you to see Wooyoung when requested without fear, it didn’t make things any less disappointing. Knowing he’s still there for you even through all of this mess was the only thing keeping you afloat, so it’s troubling when that disappears out of nowhere. Nevertheless, the end of the semester was creeping up faster than even you realized, so it makes sense that his schedule is being affected. Moreover, his job is what you’re doing this all for anyway, right? Even without his presence, you’d silently root for him in the shadows if it meant that December ended with you both together.
In the meantime, you push these feelings to the back of your mind and give yourself a break from being so worrisome. With this charade moving deeper into its timeline, it’s time-sensitive and imperative to ask for his ex’s phone number from Hongjoong in an effort to contact her. Wooyoung might be intent on keeping you from meeting her, but he’s severely underestimated the fire in your belly when it comes to getting what you want. You’ve played along with his shenanigans long enough.
Hongjoong’s brows furrow while he shoves a few of the fries in his mouth from a meal you asked to treat him to this particular Monday afternoon.
“I should’ve known you wanted to see me for ulterior motives,” he takes a swigger of his soda with pursed lips, “Buttering me up with free food for my connections, huh?”
“I didn’t remember until just now, I promise,” you lie, trying to remain composed. You’re not exactly the best at lying to your close friends and this time is no different. “If I knew about anyone else having her number I would’ve asked them. I wouldn’t lie to you, Joong.”
His eyes examine your body language keenly before scoffing, “I’m still caught up on how you didn’t tell me that your mystery man was Wooyoung all this time. That was a lie by omission.”
“I am not dating Wooyoung, I already told you this.”
“Then why do you suddenly want his ex’s number?”
You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and offer him an easygoing smile that you had practiced a plethora of times before even leaving to meet him.
“I’m reaching out on behalf of a mutual friend about possibly being commissioned to make the graduation stoles for their sorority. That’s all.”
Yes, through hours of snooping and finally finding her Instagram, you discovered that she is a die-hard sorority girl for one of the smaller sororities on your campus. You had almost talked yourself into simply contacting her there, but as luck would have it, her messages were turned off for strangers that she doesn’t follow back. There was no doubt in your mind that she would never follow you back if you tried that route.
“You sure you’re not trying to stir the pot?” Hongjoong inquires playfully, eyeing you with an elvish grin. You groan in annoyance. “I’m all for a little mess sometimes, but I don’t like being the gateway.”
“Come on Joong, it’s nothing like that at all. I didn’t think you would be so difficult to ask about this… You’re supposed to be my rock—”
Your heart is threatening to break out of your chest when he holds up his free hand to quiet you with a roll of his eyes. Then, with his other hand, he finally scrolls through his phone to find said information.
“I’ve heard enough, please stop being so dramatic,” he sighs. His thumb stops swiping as soon as he sees what he’s looking for in his class’ group chat, and he hands you the phone reluctantly. “Under no circumstances do you tell her who gave this to you.”
“You know I love you the most, right? Even more than Yeosang!” You smile and he matches it sarcastically.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you liar. I love you too.”
While Yunho’s impromptu visit might have subdued his anxiety briefly, he knew it wouldn’t be a permanent fix. He spent some time away from you under the excuse of helping other people prepare more for the final paper deadline approaching, but that only made things worse. The longing he feels these days is stronger when he realizes you could be spending the valuable time he’s avoiding you by seeing Wooyoung instead. It’s embarrassing really, being so envious of someone younger than him. He shouldn’t be letting some university student get under his skin so easily, but there’s too much he’s given of himself to you to just be calm and collected about things.
These things swirl about in his head while he’s seated alone at the bar’s counter, patiently waiting for his friends to finish playing Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who pays the tab tonight. It was fairly evident that it had been a rough start to the month for Yunho from his mood, so his best friends were intent on treating him tonight. Today and the next were the university-designated study days for finals. Seonghwa personally coaxed him out of hiding by stopping by his home and offering to drive. He knows Yunho has a hard time saying no when confronted directly. As karma would have it, it was looking to be an expensive night for Seonghwa unfortunately, marked by the heavy groan Yunho can hear come from behind him when the two finish.
When he finally joins Yunho at the counter, he searches through his wallet for his credit card while asking, “Which beer do you want?”
“I need something stronger tonight,” Yunho states before flagging the bartender down himself.
Nowadays, he’s more favorable to something light and bubbly like beer because it’s easy on his body and the buzz is manageable over a longer period of time. He can’t remember the last time he drank pure liquor… It had to have been New Year’s Eve or some other holiday that’s usually burdened by alcohol. Yunho’s not remarkably sensitive to liquor and he’s by no means a lightweight, but tonight he’s truly done a number on himself. Three Long Island Iced Teas and a few extra shots of rum have him loose and on stage in front of many eyes doing what he does best: singing. Singing karaoke duets with Seonghwa always makes him feel like a college student again, bringing him back to the days of their music classes.
When the next hour comes around and several more shots enter his system, the second phase of his inebriation hits: heartache and depression. Distractions are wonderful until they’re not, and his throat hurts from doing too much falsetto. He keeps thinking about how he’s supposed to show you this side of himself eventually, serenading you like a cheesy romcom just to hear your pretty giggles telling him that he actually sounds like an angel, and those thoughts make him sad. On top of that, his social battery is depleted entirely and now all he can think about is going home. Distancing himself for the last several days is finally coming to an end, as you’re the only person he can think of to call since he doesn’t want to ruin his friends’ time by asking Seonghwa to take him back home. While booking an Uber ride would’ve been the smarter idea, Yunho’s too lovesick to pass up on a moment to hear your voice right now.
So, while Seonghwa is busy using the bathroom and San is distracted by an attractive woman who’s gone out of her way to challenge him to a game of pool, his hazy eyes manage to find your contact card in his favorites before calling you. You take a bit longer to answer than usual, but the moment he hears that familiarly sweet ‘hello there, handsome~’ come across his speaker, he physically melts into a heap on the counter. You can overhear the loud music coming through the speaker clear as day and figure he must be at the bar tonight with other teachers since they’re all essentially off tomorrow. Calling you of all people while with his friends is risky, but you understand why he’s being so reckless the moment he opens his mouth.
“I need to see you, please,” Yunho drawls, his free palm pressed to his forehead to ground himself, “Drank too much, wanna go home.”
“Where are you, Yu?”
Yunho’s heart feels like it’s ready to take flight at the way you ask this with no hesitation and how he can hear you already shuffling to grab clothes. Maybe your feelings are as strong as his afterall.
“At that dumb bar near campus. Hwa drove me,” he sighs, and you can practically hear the drunken pout stuck on his lips. “I’ll just send my location… Can you come, baby? Please?”
“Of course, I’ll come take you home. Sit tight, I’m leaving now.”
When you do finally arrive, Yunho lets his friends know that he ordered an Uber to go home, and successfully convinces Seonghwa not to walk with him outside even though his steps feel leadened.
“Go back to karaoke,” he waves him off with an anxious smile, “I’ll let y’know when I get home.”
Parking so close to the entrance might’ve been a bit daring on your part, but you expected Yunho to have some trouble walking too far with too much distance. To offset the risk, you’re donning a black face mask with the hood of your jacket pulled over your head, and you figure that should conceal any particulars about you enough for any lurking eyes. Yunho’s surely more operational than he sounded over the phone, and even though his feet are slow on his way over, he slides in easily enough and even buckles himself in. From there, you focus on leaving the area before either of his friends gets curious enough to look outside.
The drive is comfortably silent. You keep the music low and drive a bit slower than usual to make sure he doesn’t feel too dizzy during the trip. Yes, you care for the man dearly, but the last thing you need is his vomit in your passenger seat. With his head resting idly on the cool glass of your window, he tries to relax his mind and settle the stuttering of his heart. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to be around you right now.
“Overdid it tonight, huh?” You ask him after a while to make sure he’s still conscious.
“I don’t ever drink this much,” he replies with his eyes still closed, “M’so sorry for bothering you so late.”
“You didn’t bother me at all. Go ahead and relax, we’re almost home.”
His call was perfect timing actually, as you were just wrapping up exam prep for the day. Usually, you don’t take study days seriously, but with this being your last semester you figure giving your all includes taking advantage of the academic liberties that are offered by your university in exchange for not having to go to class. He was on your mind tonight as he always is, and even though the moment is unconventional, you appreciate him finally calling you at all. That’s all you can think about for the remainder of the drive to his home.
This is so embarrassing, he mopes internally. Yunho feels extremely vulnerable with every lug of his feet up his steps to his door. He’s not sure he ever wanted you to see him in such a state either—liquored up and liable to say anything lingering in his chest without inhibition—but it’s too late to worry about those things now.
“Thank you for coming,” Yunho sighs upon entering his abode, shrugging off his coat and kicking his shoes off to a place he probably won’t remember tomorrow.
His throat is dry and itching for something else, anything other than liquor. You know better than anyone that he needs to be drinking water right now and flushing his system as well. Closing his front door, you follow suit with your shoes and jacket.
“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart,” you assure him with a smile, “I’ll go get you some water.”
However, before you can slip past him, Yunho’s warm hands gently clasp around your cheeks. Your back hits the door as his sticky liquored lips squish against yours in an affectionate kiss. Much to his dismay, after only a few seconds of gratification you manage to pull back enough to talk.
“Water first, kissing later. Okay?” You chide with a giggle.
Yunho makes a whiny noise in the back of his throat in place of a ‘no’ before stealing your lips once more. This time, his arms fall to wrap around your torso. There’s something desperate about the way his arms squeeze the air out of you as if he loosens them even in the slightest bit you might slip right from his grasp. That’s how he’s felt for some time recently like you’re slipping away right into someone else’s arms. Somewhere deep down in his intoxicated subconscious, he’s able to acknowledge the feeling of his heart slamming against his chest from pent-up anxiety of seeing you again, touching you again… and maybe lack of oxygen. Yeah, perhaps that’s what this intense feeling is building in his chest is, a blatant lack of oxygen. Breathing is just not something present in Yunho’s impaired mind.
You, you, you, you, you!
All he wants to do is think about how he loves you more than you know.
He feels like he’s suffocating, but his brain won’t let his limbs move to breathe, lost in the thoughts and desperation of just needing to be connected to you. Just then, when he feels like he’s about to nearly pass out, you find the strength within yourself to push him from you hastily. The way you gasp for air lets him know that he was inadvertently suffocating you as well. His arms finally release their intense grip and a flurry of apologies tumble from his lips.
“M’so sorry,” he offers one last time, words running together, “I just missed you so much.”
Yunho’s head falls and rests in the crook of your neck while embarrassment floods his cheeks.
“It’s okay, really. I missed you too,” you tell him, lungs settling while you card your fingers through his hair soothingly. He’s so fragile at this moment and seeing this side of him makes your heart melt. You could never be mad at something like a little stolen oxygen. “Let’s get you settled in first though, okay?”
“Please le’me stay like this for a couple minutes…”
He’s a bit dizzy, and your fingers lovingly massaging his scalp are making his heart feel ready to burst out of his chest. It doesn’t matter that he’s older than you, or that technically he’s an authoritative figure in your life. You’re always so soft with him, so attentive to his needs, and tender in your touch. You even came and picked him up while he was a mess, with no hesitation. For some reason, in Yunho’s inebriated mind, he’s so sure that a positive answer to this next question will finally solidify your loyalty and how you truly feel about him.
“Can you stay with me tonight?”
There’s a moment of silence where you’re unusually still, and Yunho can practically hear your answer before you even open your mouth. Mentally, you’re battling with yourself because of premade morning plans with Wooyoung interfering with his request. Normally, you’d never decline to spend some extra time with him, but you’re not sure if blowing off Wooyoung last minute will have some consequences. Yunho’s the most important thing to you, but which choice proves that the most?
“I have some important obligations in the morning, Yu,” you mumble a moment later, unable to outright say no. It’s hard, but you figure the best way to show him his importance to you is to put his career first, ahead of your feelings.
In the crook of your neck you can feel him inhale, and for a second, he’s so still that you could’ve believed that he’d passed out. You’re just about to call his name when you feel him begin to tremble and snivel, and alarm bells begin blaring in your head. Lifting his head with your hands gently, you gaze up at him in panic.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” You comfort him softly, thumbs on either side of his face wiping away fat tears that begin spilling down his rosy cheeks. “I’ll stay, I will. I’m so sorry baby.”
“I can’t do this anymore, ____.”
You’re no longer worried about the warm tears spilling onto your fingers as you are the immediate tightness in your chest at such simple words. Simple, but hurtful. The last time you heard that kind of sentence, it was followed by a breakup. The pang in your chest at the realization that this is what’s probably happening makes you feel sick. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t blame him if your behavior over the last few weeks ended up being the final straw for him, and if leaving him alone drunk was the cherry on top. Your diminished communication and sudden lack of availability with obligations you could not explain… and who knows what he’s heard about your increasing closeness with his TA, if anything. You ponder if maybe that’s why he has been acting differently recently, how perhaps the rumors had finally gotten back to him. It’s hard to meet his eyes while you try to prepare yourself for words you figured you hear eventually but still never built your confidence up enough for.
“Look at me, please,” he requests. It takes a moment, but you find it in yourself to do as asked. The way Yunho’s glazed-over eyes only hold dejection when you meet them lets you know something is seriously wrong. You’ve hurt him, you just know it. You’re not sure what to expect, but it surely isn’t him following up with, “I love you so much, it’s beginning to hurt, ____.”
Yunho didn’t expect this genuine divulgence that he had finally found within himself to reveal to be met with annoyance of all things. The way your brows crease and the corners of your mouth downturn throw him for a loop.
“I know you’re drunk but you really shouldn’t say a serious word like that so easily,” you chastise him in a soft voice.
The gentleness of your tone doesn’t change the fact that you mean that statement wholeheartedly; he’s never used that word with you when sober, so why now? You don’t want to be made a fool of when these drunken words get taken back when he’s in his right mind tomorrow. Being drunk doesn’t excuse playing around with your feelings like that.
“I mean it. I do love you, so much. Not gonna pretend to be so casual about things anymore,” he retorts. While his voice still has that intoxicated twang in it, it’s now alarmingly firm.
That sudden tone and the way his face remains determined to make you understand him make your heart stutter. In the context of romance, ‘love’ is a word you haven’t heard from someone in a long time. To be fair, it’s a word you haven’t offered to anyone you’ve dated in a long time either. How long has it been since you met someone worthy of a word that powerful… You’re at a loss for words. The increasing tightness in your chest with the more you take in the situation won’t let up, and you wonder if he can feel your anxiety through the trembling of your hands still caressing his wet cheeks.
Yunho doesn’t mind that you don’t say it back, he may be intoxicated but he still knows he’s coming on very strong right now. Instead, he adds, “You don’t have to say it back, but I can’t handle not knowing what I am to you anymore. I can’t tell how you really see me.”
The way your face immediately only offers confusion at that final statement is involuntary—his complete obliviousness to how you feel about him, about everything you’ve done till this point, is just baffling. Despite any impending consequences of being involved with your teacher, you’ve given this man so much of your time, your adoration, your body—what is there to question? When you finally take your hands back and place them on your temples, Yunho senses your frustration. He begins to feel bad when he realizes too much liquid courage may have made him go a bit too far.
“Yunho, I thought it was pretty obvious that I want to be with you. I’m just waiting for graduation to say it officially,” you explain. “I– We’ve been dating for 3 months, for Christ’s sake.”
You try to remind yourself that he’s intoxicated and that maybe you should treat this situation with a bit more grace. The next question he throws out completely shatters that mindset.
“Then why did you kiss him?”
The immediate mortification you feel at that string of words hits you like a sledgehammer, and the silence that consumes the room following this question is deafening. Yunho’s eyes hold your shameful stare before you finally become physically uncomfortable, and you avert your gaze sheepishly. Yes, you had considered he might catch you in the act sooner or later, but did it have to be the stupid unwanted kiss of all things? This is not something you had readied yourself enough to be confronted about. It’s something you wish you could’ve taken to the grave if possible.
The lack of an immediate reply to such a simple question has him pressing his palms to his eyes because he feels himself needing to cry again. He’d do anything to turn off those leaky faucets behind his eyes for good right now if he could. Crying over someone he had no business falling for in the first place is exasperating because he knew better. He’s sure he’d be able to compose himself more than this if he wasn’t so drunk as well, but it’s too late for those kinds of thoughts now. Everything is out in the open, all the way down to the intensity of his feelings for you, and there’s no turning back.
“It’s not what you think, Yunho,” you finally offer after taking some seconds to sort out your thoughts. The thing is, there is no other viable option at this point: it’s either tell him the truth or lie and break his heart further. You would never consider doing the latter. “I want to explain, but this isn’t the best time—”
“You can be honest, I promise I can handle it,” Yunho interjects. He runs his hands through his messy hair, trying to mellow himself out and prove that statement, but his insecurities start to get the best of him. Words begin spilling out of his mouth without much thought, “Is it because we can’t go out like normal couples? Am I not giving you enough attention? I know it’s tough right now but—”
“No, no, of course not! None of that matters to me in the slightest.”
“What is it about him, then? If it’s something I can fix or do better, I will. I promise,” he tells you earnestly, but his face already looks defeated. He still can’t even say his name. Seeing him so distraught and broken like this over your actions is like a stiff punch in the gut. The last thing you ever wanted to do was make Yunho feel like he’s not enough.
Instead of answering, you ask him, “Do you trust me?”
As much as he should be inclined to say no with everything he’s seen, or the way you won’t give him straight answers, he just can’t say no.
“Of course I do.”
“Then I’d really love for us to have this conversation in the morning when you’re sober,” you insist, hands seeking out his for comfort and reassurance, “Please, Yunho.”
“And what happens if I wake up alone again?”
There it is. The hint of pessimism screaming at him in the back of his mind slipped through. He remembers the last time you left with no word and how it sent him irrationally spiraling. He just needs that final bit of reassurance.
“I’d never do that to you again, okay? I love you too much to hurt you like that. I promise.”
Yunho's left mute at this reply, damp lashes blinking repeatedly as his brain struggles to compute that you just said three very pivotal words he’s never heard from anyone else he’s ever dated. After not immediately reciprocating his sentiments earlier, he didn’t really ever expect them to come from your mouth anytime soon.
“You…love–”
It happens way too fast, the wave of nausea that consumes him with how overwhelmed he begins to feel. Pulling his fingers away from yours, he clasps a clammy hand over his mouth and stumbles off toward his hallway bathroom in haste. This, of course, is not the ideal response you’d like to get back after fully confessing your feelings to a man. You try not to take it to heart and finally go to grab some water for him while he’s emptying his stomach in the bathroom.
The night comes to a close not too long later with you both burrowed in the blankets of Yunho’s bed, and he falls asleep against your chest faster than your brain will allow you to join. How lucky he is to have alcohol easily lull him to sleep after such a mess, you muse. You suppose this is as good of a time as ever to sort your thoughts and words for your explanation tomorrow. That and the possible consequences following you finally revealing the truth. While Yunho might seem mild-mannered and easygoing on a day-to-day basis, you are now aware of just how sensitive he is as a person inside. He feels with his whole heart, and he keeps certain things locked inside of him. You want him to feel comfortable enough to share those things with you as a partner. You want him to trust you wholly with his entire heart, but you suppose that begins with being entirely honest with him first. He’s more than enough, and you want him to believe that. Before you can let your mind wander too deep into the territory of that subject, your eyes finally feel unbearably heavy, and you fall asleep with your fingers curled around his own a little more securely than usual.
One thing Yunho prides himself in is not being prone to heavy hangovers, and this morning is no different. From his first couple years in college, he had learned that lots of water, sleeping in, and a good meal was the cheat code to his body’s ability to survive a night of binge drinking. This was partially thanks to his first roommate who was a Nutrition Major, because if he couldn’t discourage him from drinking he could at least aid him in recovering from it. Aside from you forcing him to drink a few water bottles before he could sleep, throwing up the prior night and purging most of it helped a lot as well, of course.
You’re not in bed when he stirs awake, but he can hear miscellaneous noise coming from another part of his home and smell the third element of his cheat code in progress. When he finally ambles out of his room and into his kitchen after chugging the bottle of water left on his nightstand, he finds you cooking something with what little groceries he has stocked in his fridge. The sound of him pulling out a chair at his table tears your attention away from the stove.
“Good morning,” you hum. He seems fully coherent, which makes things much easier on you. “How’s your stomach?”
Yunho rubs his bleary eyes with the back of his hand while yawning, “Much better… What time is it?”
“Around eleven, I think.”
“I thought you had something to do?”
“I canceled,” you tell him, “You’re more important.”
Earlier, while Yunho was still passed out, you found some time to slip away and call Wooyoung to raincheck. You’re not entirely sure if he believed the performance you put on about coming down with something last minute, but it didn’t matter. The least he can do is give you a day off of this charade. You move the food you’ve been working on off of the stove’s eye and turn off the heat before snatching up his mug of coffee and joining him at the table.
You look different this morning, the way your eyes lack any of their usual whimsy or humor, and how you sit yourself to his left with body language more reserved than normal. Your stress is palpable, and that doesn’t help settle the sad feeling beginning to manifest in his stomach when he realizes the conversation that’s about to begin. Nonetheless, he decides to prepare himself for the worst.
“I promised you an explanation,” you sigh, “So let’s talk.”
Messily relaying this story to Yeosang first helped you a lot with finding the confidence to make things more concise if a moment like this were ever to happen. You were able to tell Yunho the full extent of Wooyoung’s actions without getting as emotional as the last time. Even though you were trying to be truthful, you ultimately decided not to tell him about trying to connect with Wooyoung’s ex behind the scenes, as you didn’t want to give him any false hope if things happened to fall through. When you finish spilling anything left lingering in your guts about the entire situation, there’s an unbearable silence that settles over the whole room. Yunho’s eyes are trained on his coffee, finger circling the rim of his mug while he lets his mind run wild. The guilty feeling that washes over you feels heavier and heavier with every passing second of him not replying.
“I’m really sorry,” you finally break the silence with a final apology. “It’s my fault for being so pushy in your office that day. This wouldn’t have happened if I had just taken no for an answer.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, ____,” Yunho tails your sentence quickly. The tension in your chest finally dissolves when he speaks, and hearing his caring voice is really all you can ask for right now. He reaches a gentle hand over the table to cover yours for some well-needed comfort, before offering you a soft, sober smile, “I don’t want you beating yourself up for decisions we made together. I’m a grown man who makes my own choices, don’t forget that.”
When Yunho dares to ask how far Wooyoung has made you go for him physically, you assure him the worst has only been that kiss.
“I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t fucking suck,” he groans, brows furrowing at the thought of being so stuck between a rock and a hard place, “I would remove him from class if I could. Seeing his face is going to piss me off even more than before.”
“I understand. The semester ends in a couple of weeks though… I know it might be a lot to ask for from you to deal with, but it won’t be too much longer,” you offer resignedly, though it’s not much of a consolation. Optimism is the only thing you have worth giving him at this point. You’re only optimistic yourself while banking on his ex wanting to meet with you. When he goes from frustratedly rubbing his eyes to running a hand through his hair, you feel the need to add, “I’d understand if you don’t want to deal with that though.” Yunho turns to you, his expression one of sheer incredulity.
“You really believe I would willingly let someone like him end our relationship?” The teasing lilt in his voice is refreshing to hear, even if it is a serious question underneath. He reaches his hand over and holds your chin while assuring you, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, okay?”
“That sounds more like a threat than a promise,” you chuckle.
“Maybe he should take it that way, then.”
For the remainder of the week, Yunho tries to bear through the new knowledge that Wooyoung is somewhere on campus turning you into a puppet for his own gain. It hits harder on the days when he texts you in an effort to check in on things but is met with radio silence. He was made aware that Wooyoung preferred you off of your phone when with him, but goddamn was it annoying. For your sake, he tries to keep these kinds of grievances to himself. He knows he needs to be supportive if he can help it. During this time frame, you also secretly began your effort to contact Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend. Getting left on read with your first message was to be expected. It took her a full day before she entertained you by replying back, even if it was a little snippy. Regardless, her replying at all was a step in the right direction. She opened the door and you planned to slip your way in as best you could. Between Yeosang asking for updates, his ex contacting you sporadically throughout the days, and Yunho checking in occasionally to make sure his assistant isn’t causing you problems that he’s more than happy to fix, you decide it’s best to keep your phone face down and away from Wooyoung when you’re together this week. Even if you want to keep up with your friends to pass the time, it’s just too risky.
“You haven’t told him anything, correct?”
Wooyoung asks this out of the blue when you both convene for breakfast on Friday. You find it funny how neither of them can say each other’s name, but you suppose Wooyoung is a bit more cautious these days to keep you from getting an attitude. You’re much too tired to even entertain such a question, but you don’t want to cause any suspicion by choosing not to answer.
You yawn after muttering, “No, why?”
“He looks at me differently these days,” he muses, pushing his fork into the plush of his lips, “It’s giving me bad vibes.”
“He has a lot on his plate with finals that you can’t help him with. I’m sure the stress is overwhelming. Cut him some slack.”
Picturing Yunho trying to give Wooyoung the evil eye when they cross paths everyday has you turning your head away, suppressing a smile to keep from laughing at the end of your sentence.
“You know better than I do,” he acknowledges with a nod and leaves the conversation at that.
Yunho begins losing a bit more of his resolve that same day when he catches Wooyoung rushing to meet you out the door after class, calling out your name right in front of his face. He doesn’t particularly care for the carefree tone of his voice, and he feels like doing something so openly is too cocky for his liking. His fingernails rake at the material of his slacks irritably from behind his podium as he opens his mouth.
“Wooyoung,” Yunho calls out before he can consult his better judgment.
When his assistant spins to face him, Yunho finds himself at a loss for words. He didn’t really think this part through. His eyes flicker to you, who’s waiting patiently by the door for your puppetmaster to join you, then back to Wooyoung. That’s when he makes the executive decision to steal him away from you for the next hour or so. He deserves that satisfaction at least.
“I wanted to discuss some things about my schedule regarding final papers next week, and then submitting final grades,” Yunho exhales while clasping his hands together.
He throws in a free and easy smile to twist the knife because his assistant loses all joy in his face at his words. The brief glance you exchange with your teacher as Wooyoung reluctantly ambles back to his station holds a world of emotions, conveying everything words cannot. The gratification he receives from simply seeing you nod and smile while departing alone for the day gives him everything he needs to complete his day with renewed composure.
Mondays generally suck for Yunho, but this final one of the semester is absolutely atrocious.
Today, he’s had the worst technical difficulties in both of his morning lectures with no valuable help from the University’s IT department. One of his biggest pet peeves is not being taken seriously when he’s working, especially as a younger teacher, and it seems that they put his issues on the back burner all morning since he’s not one of the elderly professors. Regardless, he made things work even through the giggles of some students. It’s his final class before exam week begins, the least he can do is end his spiel of encouragement towards the final paper deadline on a good note.
If things had ended there, then he would’ve had a decent rest of his day. Spilling hot coffee all over his white button-up that he rarely ever even wears puts a permanent grimace on his face for the remainder of the morning. He tries his best to dab it out with water when he gets a free moment during his lunch break, but he’s one hundred percent sure he made the liquid spread much worse. Coupled with him not even being able to put his tie back on properly in an attempt to fashion it in a way that hides the stain, he’s exactly three seconds away from deciding to go home for the rest of the day.
He decides to work through lunch in his office instead so he can end the day early once he’s finished. At least this way nobody could see how much of a mess he is today. But, after a while of Yunho holing up in his office and hiding from the rest of the world as long as he can manage, his phone vibrates with an unexpected call from San. He presses the answer option reluctantly and puts it on speaker.
Before he can even say hello, San’s voice is already excitedly asking, “You on lunch?”
“Something like that,” he chuckles weakly, and San can hear the clicks of his mouse in the background. When he hears San ‘tsk!’ in disapproval of him working, he sighs, “You know me, work’s never done. Shouldn’t you be teaching a class right now?”
“Bathroom breaks are important for everybody.”
“And you decided to call me during yours why?”
“Listen, I know you told me not to make any unannounced visits to your classroom but,” San pauses to laugh at the foolishness of what he’s about to say. “But, it seems that your student has done this to me today instead. I suppose that means today is fair game, right?”
Yunho’s hands pause their movements as he filters through his mind what exactly his friend might be referring to. When he finally recalls that line from their conversation on the day his friends briefly met you, his face pales. San adds that you seem to be dressed oh-so-pretty today and Yunho’s brows crease, not only in irritation at him talking so liberally about you but in confusion. Yunho’s prolonged silence at what should be insignificant information is duly noted in San’s mind.
Truth be told, San did not call Yunho just for shits and giggles. A few days ago, during a shared lunch break, Seonghwa had come to him secretly about Yunho’s recent behaviors:
“You can’t be serious Seonghwa,” San laughs wholeheartedly at his friend’s implications. “Yunho is a bit desperate these days, but he’s not that desperate.”
“You can’t say I’m being delusional.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just saying that it probably isn’t what it seems like.”
Seonghwa rolls his eyes so far back that it almost hurts, “Enlighten me on why he’s being so secretive when I ask then.”
“You asked him about her directly?”
“Not exactly… but I asked him about dating someone,” Seonghwa leans back in his chair and sighs, “He told me nothing. Barely even got a peep about where he met the woman. A Tinder match has got him so quiet? It just doesn’t make sense.”
“And you think it’s his student because of what exactly?”
“I didn’t say anything at the time but I saw a glimpse of his phone a month or so ago,” Seonghwa snaps his fingers while he tries to remember the details, “That night we went to that fancy lounge uptown, remember?”
“And?”
“When he was using the bathroom, he left his phone face up on the couch. I didn’t mean to pay too much attention to it, but it lit up with a text and I recognized the name.”
San pushes the food around in his Tupperware with pursed lips while he tries to rationalize this revelation. Seonghwa does have a point… Why in the world would you have been texting him at 10 PM? San’s a pretty laid-back teacher himself, but none of his students have his personal number. All teachers do things differently though, he knows this. Still…
San lowers his voice to ask, “What did the message say?”
“I didn’t see that part,” his friend continues, the disappointment in his voice making San snicker, “He came back too quickly. I mentioned it in passing though, and he said they text occasionally about her schoolwork.”
Seonghwa uses his fingers to put air quotations around that last word; as if he’d ever believe a student is texting their teacher close to midnight about “schoolwork”. He’s slightly offended that Yunho thinks he’s that much of a fool.
“That’s not that implausible—”
“I’m calling bullshit. She’s at the very least got a crush on him and he’s playing into it,” Seonghwa states plainly.
San resumes eating his lukewarm leftovers, humming, “I really don’t think he would risk getting fired over hooking up with his student. We barely even see him flirt with people outside of work… Anything beyond that just isn’t him. You know this.”
The conversation didn’t last much longer than that, and San had effectively convinced Seonghwa to simply mind his business at the time. He ponders for a second if he should have a serious talk with Yunho about the repercussions that could come to him if Seonghwa’s speculations were true, as he obviously doesn’t want to see one of his best friends lose their job. San may joke around a lot about these kinds of things, and he’s overly flirtatious with a numerous amount of people that may or may not include younger women, but he knows he’d never cross the line and put his job in jeopardy like that.
It’s always been complicated. Yunho is an exceptionally loyal person and a hopeless romantic, but very few people get to see that side of him. San has seen plenty of women attempt to pursue him with both good and bad intentions, and Yunho has difficulty deciphering sometimes. That being said, when his friend is head over heels for someone, there is nothing he won’t do. There have been plenty of times when Yunho has done some stupid things because of stupid impulses when it comes to women he falls hard for. Don’t get him started about when he had to talk him out of getting a tattoo just because a girl he fell for told him she preferred “bad boys” when turning him down. He feels with all of his heart, and that’s honestly something San admires about his friend.
He supposes while he has him on the phone, he should push the boundaries to see how he replies.
“She’s been outside of my class for nearly half an hour,” San continues in a nonchalant voice, stoking the fire, “I was wondering if I should invite her to join in on the lecture, maybe chat—”
Unfortunately for San, Yunho’s already having a bad enough day, and he doesn’t need his friend joking about trying to pick up his woman.
“Do not bother her,” Yunho interrupts him in a voice with a steely edge that makes the instruction come out slightly more bitter than he intends it to. He immediately regrets letting that kind of emotion slip through and becomes bashful, quickly sputtering a playful jab at his friend instead, “Getting a girl’s attention without buying her a drink first? That would be an amazing feat from you anyway.”
“Getting a girl’s attention at all recently would be an amazing feat for you too,” San quips back with a laugh, but he makes a mental note of this peculiar reaction. It surely doesn’t help extinguish Seonghwa’s conspiracies planted in his head. “Anyway, my class ends in half an hour, so I’m sure she’s just waiting for a friend to come out.”
At that suggestion, a thought crosses Yunho’s mind that makes his stomach churn.
“San, tell me something. Do you have a student named Wooyoung Jung in your class?”
“I do indeed, how did you know?”
I’ve got to be losing my mind…
That’s the only explanation Yunho can come up with as to why he’s speed-walking from his building in the middle of campus to the one that hosts San’s class a handful of minutes away. It’s brisk out, evident by the sharp chill of early December running down his back with every quick stride, but it’s a perfect excuse for why his cheeks are so red. He’s not flustered, he’s just cold… of course.
The moment he spots you rocking back and forth on your feet in front of San’s lecture hall, patiently thumbing away at your phone, his chest aches. You’re dolled up today just like San alluded to, wearing a pretty dress that he’s never even seen you in before. Coupled with some makeup and your hair done charmingly, he gets flashbacks to when you both went on your very first dinner together. This doesn’t fare well with Yunho’s mood.
The tap he does on your shoulder startles you enough to elicit a squeal, and that shock doesn’t change even when you realize it’s Yunho beckoning for your attention.
“I– What are you doing here?”
When Yunho’s brows furrow in offense at your question, you wince. You don’t mean to sound like the last thing you want to do is see him right now, but this is not the best time for him to be showing himself. The last thing you need is for him and Wooyoung to cross paths outside of the classroom with you directly in the middle. Nevertheless, you don’t even get an answer to that query. The moment your arm is snatched and your feet drag while your captor hauls you away from your waiting spot, you internally scold yourself about how you’re probably the easiest kidnapping victim ever. To be fair, he’s a lot stronger than he looks.
“Wait, I have a date with Wooyoung–”
“I do not care,” he snaps back.
He doesn’t bother responding to any more of your attempts of chiding him, eyes too busy following the signs that guide him to where the nearest restroom is. When he stumbles upon an unoccupied handicapped restroom, he sighs in relief and pulls you in before closing and locking the door.
“What is wrong with you?” You sputter in a dumbfounded, hushed voice.
Yunho’s face is splotchy, and he’s visibly agitated while his eyes dodge between your outfit and your face, “Why do you look like that?”
What a silly question, truly.
In his mind, the problem lies within who you’re looking so beautiful for, and not the fact that you look beautiful at all. Yunho rarely gets to see you as it is, but this prick’s got you dressing up for him? Surely this isn’t necessary, because you’re beautiful enough to make anyone jealous as you already are. In his eyes, anyway.
“I just told you I have a date and I needed to look nicer,” you argue. Before he can muster up another pointless question, you fold your arms across your chest, “Right now is really not the time to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous, I’m annoyed.”
“Then why are we here, Yunho?” His eyes finally shy away from yours when you motion to your surroundings. He hates it when you use his first name like this because he knows that often accompanies the tone of displeasure. The last thing he wants to do is upset you. You sigh, “Can’t you hold out just a little longer?”
“Dressing up so pretty for him doesn’t help me feel any better.”
“Making a scene about it doesn’t necessarily help anything either, does it?”
You’d snicker at the shameful silence that follows that statement if the situation wasn’t so genuinely distressing to him. He’s genuinely upset, you get it. You’d never admit it out loud, but a piece of you likes seeing him like this: wound-up, needy, and protective. The roles were reversed not too long ago about Wooyoung particularly, so seeing him show that same yearning and agitation when the tables are turned, even if it’s in terrible circumstances, makes you feel validated. Still, you do what you can to ease his mind for now.
“You’re too handsome to be this envious, love,” you murmur sweet nothings. He remains silent, letting those words swirl around in his head while you reach out to fiddle with the kink in his tie until it’s fixed. His lip juts out when you chuckle at the stain sullying his shirt underneath. Your eyes gaze up at his fondly before you add, “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m yours and yours only before you start believing it?”
Yunho soaks in every syllable of that soothing voice of yours while his eyes settle on your glossy lips when they talk. Anything not to look at those eyes that could surely make him get on his knees and apologize profusely for causing a scene. He’s so predictable sometimes, you muse. You’re sure a kiss or two to help settle his jealousy before you have to leave won’t hurt anyway.
Just as you predicted, he can’t help himself, and the feeling of his impatient hands grabbing at your waist and his lips slotting over yours ignites this fire inside the pit of your stomach. Your butt hits against the counter of the bathroom sink and your hands try to find purchase on his blazer.
“Reminders never hurt, right?” he breaks briefly to mumble before slipping his tongue into your mouth. You indulge him, falling victim to that sinful mouth of his as you always do.
And, sure, maybe kissing you should be enough to quell such intense feelings inside of him, but it’s just not. The thought that Wooyoung also has the ability to kiss you whenever he wants to enhance whatever convoluted plan he has going on makes it almost insignificant. Instead, his hands haphazardly drift under the hem of your dress, because he’s the only one allowed to touch you like this. He hopes so, anyway.
His warm fingers drag up the soft skin of your inner thighs with no hesitation, and your hands grapple onto his blazer tightly when he reaches the apex to stop briefly at your clothed cunt. Yunho swallows the surprised yelp you let out into his mouth when he begins to rub up and down, pressing on your clit through the cotton and feeling how damp you already are just from kissing him. God, it never gets old, the way he turns you on so easily. You shudder when he tugs your panties to the side and drags his lips in wet kisses from your lips to your ear.
“I’m gonna be late, Yu…” you complain, voice airy and whiny when his thumb rubs at your clit.
“I’m really sorry,” he murmurs while kissing the shell of your ear, “I’m just really pissed off today. You understand, right, angel?”
He punctuates that statement by finally slipping two fingers into your sopping cunt.
Yunho’s a mess.
He stares at himself in the mirror behind you while his fingers busy themselves with pushing in and out of your cunt. How did he get to such a point, experiencing so many intense emotions over someone he never should’ve fallen in love with in good conscience? How did he end up in this bathroom with his fingers evoking such sloppy noises from between your legs? He stares at how flushed he is in the cheeks with your glittery lipgloss smeared all over his lips and beyond. This is beyond silly…
Yunho swears he’s not actually such a jealous person, he swears, but the current circumstances are doing a number on his mental health. He deliberately curls his fingers up against that plushy spot he loves to find within you and watches tremors travel through your back. Aside from some tiny gasps and whimpers that are barely audible unless you’re close enough to hear them, you’ve learned your lesson on being quiet in these situations, and you keep your lips pressed together tightly. The way your knees are buckling and your hands are clutching onto him for dear life—yes, this is just what he needs. He’s never felt such an intense need to see someone cum in his life.
“Do you want more?” Yunho suddenly breathes against your ear, pressing a loving kiss on your warm skin before pulling back to look you in the eyes, “I’ll do whatever you want me to, even if you just want me to stop.”
As God is his witness, he means every word. He’ll get down on his knees and suck an orgasm from you if you want him to. He’ll hold you against the wall and fuck any word other than his name out of your head if you want him to. To be honest, deep down he just wants to see if you’d blow off your date with this nuisance—even for just a few minutes—to let him satisfy you. Those shiny eyes of yours innocently blinking at his inquiry could make him melt on the spot. You don’t know how much time has passed since you got dragged in here, or how much time there is left of Wooyoung’s class, but your hands move faster than your brain when considering these things as a problem.
His fingers slip out of your core and into his mouth the moment your hands drop to fumble with his belt hurriedly. There are no words spoken, and the only sounds filling the quiet air of the bathroom are Yunho’s belt buckle coming undone and clattering against the floor tiles once his pants are shoved down. He pushes down his underwear and quickly fists his cock while you turn to bend over the sink. It doesn’t take much to get him hard because seeing you so wet and ready for him to stretch you out with no care for anything else turns him on to the highest degree.
After tugging your panties down what he deems is enough, he doesn’t even bother teasing and prods at your hole so eagerly that it’s almost embarrassing. The soft gasp you both share when Yunho’s tip fully slips into your cunt by accident makes your stomach manifest butterflies.
Your hands grip the edges of the counter while he continues pushing forward, mouth agape and brows drawn together while watching the way the tight skin stretches around him and sucks him in greedily. When you finally feel his thighs meet yours, you release a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding heavy in your lungs.
“You’re so wet, slipped in so easily,” he huffs, giving you an experimental thrust to see all your arousal coat his cock again before he bunches your dress around your waist in his hands. “Gonna be good for me and stay quiet, right?”
“I should ask you the same,” you whisper, giving him a coy gaze through the mirror.
The smirk tugging at his lips in place of laughing is followed by a knowing nod, and you close your eyes when he finally begins moving his hips. Yunho has no intention of purposefully rushing things to get you back to your obligations any quicker than him bringing you here. Even so, he isn’t going slow or taking his time like he treated you the last time you had sex. No, this is an exceptionally needy fuck today, with hasty, desperate thrusts that make his eyes flutter closed and chest feel heavy with noises of arousal just begging to creep out. He just can’t help himself; Yunho swears your cunt was perfectly crafted just for him.
When he feels your knees buckle after one particular angled thrust, he groans lowly, “Right there, angel?”
With a nod of your head, Yunho's hands move from your dress to your hips, fingertips digging deep into the plush skin while he reciprocates that previous thrust over and over and over until you’re gripping the sink spout to maintain some of your sanity.
“I need more Yu, please,” you beg him in a whisper, cock-drunk eyes meeting his own in the mirror, “More, more—please—harder.”
You want nothing more than for him to just grab a fist full of your hair and make a mess of your sopping cunt—to ruin your makeup and send you back out to Wooyoung looking like a mess. You crave that pure and raw act of Yunho showing him who you truly belong to. Knowing your lover, he wouldn’t decline the opportunity to assert his dominance in this situation, but you have enough self-control to keep those desires to yourself. He’s giving you enough to handle anyway, firmly pressing your stomach to this counter with strong hands and settling on a brutal pace to satisfy your request. The sounds of skin slapping skin echo amongst desperate pants and gasps from you both every time he bottoms out just as fast as he pulls back.
The steamy air of the bathroom is interrupted when your phone begins ringing on the counter. You know it’s probably Wooyoung finally out of class and wondering where you are. You can’t blame him, as you had explicitly told him you’d be waiting for him outside the classroom.
Even so, you can’t seem to care enough to remove your focus from Yunho, your unwavering eyes still locked on his own through the mirror as he continues snapping his hips into you quickly. Yunho would be lying if he said this attention didn’t go straight to his head. He knows you shouldn’t ever have to prove it, but the reassurance he feels from seeing your devotion to him in real time makes his chest tight with adoration. The way nobody else matters to you right now, and how he’s the center of your attention, chips away at every inch of jealousy he was feeling earlier.
Yunho’s hands abruptly pull you off the sink by your arms and up against him. This new position with your back arched and you on your toes has you seeing constellations, and you know you probably aren’t going to last much longer with the way he’s also heaving just behind your ear. When one hand of his moves down to rub sticky circles on your clit, you presume he’s close as well. Yunho feels like he’s going crazy, mind spinning with thoughts of if you keep squeezing him like this, he might just accidentally cum—
“Inside,” you whimper, “Please.”
He finds himself groaning against your skin, teasing you by breathing, “Going on a date with another man’s cum in you’s kinda rude, no?”
“Don’t care, please, please.”
As usual, how can he say no when you beg so cutely? He did say he’d do whatever you want, after all. Your eyes flutter closed and you focus on the final sounds of Yunho’s soft grunts and your shaky exhales mingling in the air while he ruts up into you quickly. It always seems like he knows your body better than you know yourself these days because his hand covers your mouth before he gives the last few sharp thrusts that precede him finally spilling into you, and he successfully stifles the desperate moan you would’ve let fly out once you fall apart in his arms.
“Quiet– Oh fuck, that’s it,” Yunho hisses, letting out a soft moan at the way you struggle to stand while your legs tremble and your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. He’s dangerously too addicted to this feeling already; you should’ve never introduced something so heavenly to him. He can’t stop his hips from beginning to buck again in messy strokes, intent on fucking you through your orgasm even if he’s sensitive himself. Watching the way you bite down on your lip to keep quiet as told, he whispers well-deserved praises in between kissing your skin, “Taking it so well, sweet girl. You really were made for me. Shhh, I’ve got you.”
Yunho only stops himself when your body becomes pliant in his arms, fully surrendering to fatigue and overstimulation. He waits patiently until you can put your weight back onto your feet before finally releasing his grip. When he finally pulls himself out, he’s not quick enough to step away, and his seed spills from you onto his pants still pooled around his ankles. The handful of curses spilling from his mouth at his fuck-up has you shushing him in between breathless laughs.
“I’m an idiot,” he groans.
“Yes, and that’s exactly what you get for dragging me in here.”
Yunho spends a handful of minutes using wet napkins to make his pants look a little more presentable while you do the same with the mess you’ve both made soiling the insides of your thighs. He doesn’t even try to hide the satisfied smirk tugging at his lips while inconspicuously watching you try your best to get his cum to stop seeping out of your core. There’s just not enough to properly clean up, and he finds this just as gratifying as getting you here in the first place. To be fair, you were the one who told him that you didn’t care. On that note, he goes to grab your discarded phone and ushers it your way eagerly.
“You should call your date and let him know you’ll be wherever very soon,” he insists, “I’m sure he’s waiting patiently.”
“Rushing me out after throwing such a fit is crazy,” you mutter while pulling your panties back up. You’re sure he’s just obsessed with the thought of his cum making a cameo on your date.
“A man can’t change his mind?”
As you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, quickly dabbing at your neck with napkins to clean any smeared lip gloss, Yunho leans against the bathroom wall and tries to decide how long he should wait in the bathroom before leaving after you. Between watching the way you apply a fresh coat to your lips and entering post-nut clarity, he’s a bit too scatterbrained to think about this critically, but he’s brought back to the moment when you finally spin around with a sigh.
“Do I look okay?”
There’s a bit of anxiety hidden in that question, evoked by the fear of looking disheveled or being perfumed with the smell of sex, but those thoughts are quickly extinguished when he gives you those eyes that look as though he’s falling in love with you all over again. Maybe it’s that special afterglow that sex grants, but to him, in this moment you look even better than when you enter this bathroom with him. You’re exceptionally beautiful at all times, and he doesn’t even have to answer that question for you to know his thoughts. After planting a quick peck of farewell on his cheek, Yunho stays hidden away against the wall out of view of the door so you can finally leave and call Wooyoung. He’ll hold off on teasing you about the little limp in your walk until you see each other again in private.
The following day, you find yourself seated alone at the familiar table tucked away in the back of the library, the very spot where you and Yeosang often retreated for private discussions. Wooyoung’s ex was supposed to be seated in front of you 10 minutes ago. I’m giving her 5 more minutes before I leave. She was the one who finally asked you to meet with her after a bit of cordial back and forth, so being late to her own plans didn’t necessarily make you as sympathetic to her situation as before. You suppose you should give her a little more grace, considering this is your only opportunity to try and put an end to the madness of Wooyoung’s chasing. Still, you’re a busy woman who needs to prepare for your first exam tomorrow.
“____?”
A soft voice emerges from behind you that has you craning your head to seek out its owner.
“Hello,” you greet her, and your eyes follow her as she ambles around the table to set down her bag to settle in across from you. “Didn’t know if you were still going to show up.”
“I apologize for being late,” she sighs, embarrassment blossoming on her cheeks. With her first question, she wastes no time delving into the purpose of your meeting, “So, how long have you and Woo been dating?”
Due to her Instagram page being locked down, you hadn’t seen very many pictures of her before this meeting. You were only able to get glimpses of her in a scarce amount of posts on her sorority’s page that included all sisters. In person, she’s exceptionally beautiful, and you expected nothing less of someone being so heavily pursued. Your blatant staring and lack of reply to her question have her glancing at you quizzically.
It’s a bit surreal at first, but it finally sinks in that sitting in front of you is the very person of Wooyoung’s desires. An involuntary giggle escapes you at how silly this situation is, as you were never really prepared to be confronted by the very girl Wooyoung kept you from knowing this whole time. She was merely a faceless hindrance to your life, to the point of even doubting her existence at one point. Your reaction doesn’t fare well with her, and she’s noticeably bothered at being laughed at.
“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you offer a genuine apology before leaning onto the table on your elbows and admitting truthfully, “Not too long at all, just about a month.”
Still, way too long, you’d like to add. Even though she visibly relaxes at this revelation, you can see a conflicting look flicker behind her eyes.
“I still don’t really understand why you contacted me,” she sighs, but the look in her eyes just doesn’t correspond.
You’re sure she knows exactly why you reached out and exactly what you want to say; surely she already knows she is all Wooyoung wants. During this conversation, you had planned to tell a series of half-truths. She didn’t need to know how you got wrapped up in this mess, but you figured it’d be helpful to admit that Wooyoung only thinks of her when he’s with you. Maybe you’d give her some empathetic spiel about how you “think” he hasn’t moved on from his feelings for her, and make it a bit emotional on your end. Despite those words dancing on the tip of your tongue, ready to give your best performance, you realize that she looks as if she wants to do your job for you. So, you play into it and let her take the wheel.
“You look like you want to ask me something,” you observe, “I’m all ears.”
Sitting up a bit more erect in her chair, she meets your eyes head-on.
“I’d like to ask you if…” But, her voice falters before she can get to the tail of her request.
You wonder if it’s a pride thing that’s keeping her from being honest with herself. She wants him back, you’re sure of it, but she’s the one who broke things off initially. Maybe she’s embarrassed, you muse. You suppose you could gently guide the conversation, posing the question she hesitates to voice herself.
“Do you want me to break up with him?” You ask forthrightly.
“I do,” she finally confesses, “I was hesitant about rekindling our relationship, but you reaching out to me made me feel more confident that I should ask. I’m so sorry.”
Feigning indecision is easy, and pretending to fight your feelings about the situation is the cherry on top. It wouldn’t be believable if you gave up too easily, so the uncomfortable silence is more than necessary. The false front is believable enough because she cuts into the tense silence before you can even respond.
“I made a mistake and I would just like a second chance with him. I know I’m asking for a lot from you, and I want him to be happy, but I can’t pretend that I don’t still love him anymore,” she rambles on, trying her best to be authentic, “We were together for quite some time and—”
“I’m aware,” you finally interject. When she downcasts her eyes, you perch your head in your palm and sigh, “Wooyoung is still in love with you as well. I don’t want to be with someone who’s still caught up on someone else anymore. You understand?”
The way her eyes light up at this revelation makes yours soften. Even though Wooyoung’s actions may be maddening to you, you can tell he genuinely brings her joy. They both truly love each other.
“I don’t know how to go about this,” she admits after a moment of thought.
"Just tell him you want him back. He'll probably end things with me right away," you say bluntly. You feel it's best to give her a gentle nudge to act sooner rather than later, though. So, you add, "I think he’s been planning a trip for us after finals, but I'm sure he'd rather go with you. Please, do it soon."
Underscoring the word please to her might come across as begging, but at this point, you are beyond caring. Going your separate ways after closing this conversation feels like a hefty weight lifted off of your shoulders. In the end, you’ve done what needed to be done in terms of setting the stage; now it was time for her return to the spotlight as the lead.
The next morning, you awaken to a text from Wooyoung finally breaking your arrangement off. He doesn’t go into any specifics of what happened, but at any rate, you don’t need or care to know. As far as you’re concerned, he’s fully evaporated from your life the moment you delete his text thread. You find that your coffee and breakfast taste better than normal with one less weight of stress hanging over your head. Exchanging many [Good luck!] texts with Yunho has him subsequently requesting to meet with you after today’s exam. That is how you ended up dawdling around your favorite aisle in the campus bookstore just before lunch. You had decided to turn in your textbook rentals early and put all of your faith in your notes for these next few days. The only other thing really lingering over your head was to finally turn in your final paper for Yunho’s class before midnight.
You start to get a bit impatient when Yunho fails to show up after your proposed meeting time, and you wonder if maybe he’s in the wrong spot. With calculated steps, you begin to roam the nearby shelves, reluctant to call out his name too many times in such a quiet place. There are only but so many aisles he could be in within this store anyway. After a couple of minutes peeking into different empty aisles, you finally decide he’s simply just late. You venture back to your original aisle and decide to browse in the meantime; this is the last time you’d ever be stepping foot in this place, so it couldn’t hurt to chew over a last-minute purchase. No matter how frequently this aisle has seen your presence in the last few years, you never fail to find something new that piques your interest. Unfortunately, today’s mark is a small book with the prettiest spine, and it sits just out of your reach on the top shelf. Being unobtainable only makes your curiosity even more inevitable.
Stretching every muscle in your body as far as it’ll give to try and at least graze the spine fails; there’s just no use, and it seems appealing to simply give up. The moment you finally fall back on the heels of your feet, you can feel the sturdiness of a chest slyly pressing against your back while reaching for that very same book just out of your reach.
“You should really be more aware of your surroundings,” Yunho’s smooth voice hums next to your ear after feeling you freeze up underneath his presence. He plucks the book from the shelf with ease and sighs. You can feel his breath fan out on your neck and even smell the mint on his breath when he adds a playful jab, “Short stuff.”
“And you should really be more punctual,” you quip back, trying your best to ignore his proximity.
He’s dressed casually today, charmingly sporting a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater since classes are officially over. If you didn’t already know who he was, a simple glance would have you thinking he was a student himself.
“Oh c’mon pretty, at least I’m here like I said I’d be, right?” He reasons excitedly while offering you a toothy grin that’s way too cute for your liking. The gentle tap of the book on the crown of your head has you scrunching up your nose, and he sets it aside. “You sure this section is private enough?”
“One hundred percent. I used to sit here in my free time when I wanted to read books without buying them,” you admit, adding, “No cameras over here either.”
Yunho eyes you curiously. You're practically glowing today, evident to him by the smile you can’t seem to keep off of your face even when you feign annoyance at his tardiness. He presses a hand to the shelf ledge behind you while the other finds solace in his pocket with his belongings.
“What’s got you so happy today?”
He’s torn between whether you’ll say something about already being rid of one exam, or maybe your spontaneous rendezvous with him here has you that giddy. Your eyes gaze back into his expectant ones and you find yourself finally able to relax for the first time in many weeks.
“It’s all over, Yunho.”
Normally, a sentence like that would seem ominous, but the wide stretch of your lips has his poor heart shooting into his throat. It’s the way your eyes are lit while saying his name that really gets him. His pocketed hand finds its way to your cheek and his thumb skims the apple of your cheek. This kind of smile is something he hopes he can evoke from you on his own in the near future.
“I really missed seeing you this happy,” he confesses, “You look like you can breathe again, ____.”
Something about the way those soft chocolate eyes of his are openly admiring every inch of your face, committing this kind of happiness from you to memory, has you shrinking back in shyness and averting your gaze.
Eager to move the spotlight off yourself, you inquire, “So… why’d you wanna meet up here?”
Oh, that’s right…
Yunho’s decision to drive to campus today mainly stemmed from the fact that you would already be here. He didn’t want you to have to go out of your way just for him to see you, especially after an exam. A clandestine meeting in the bookstore, which you assured him beforehand would be devoid of many students, seemed like a feasible option. He moves to wrap his arms around you, pressing you against his chest in a firm embrace. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist.
“It’s going to be a very busy week for me with grading final papers all by myself,” Yunho begins tentatively.
His eyes close and he focuses on slowing down his heart that’s beating a bit too prominently in his chest when your ear is pressed against it. There are a lot of emotions coursing through him today, many he can’t quite decipher, although he supposes maybe that’s just everything he’s been feeling throughout the entire semester coming to a head: love, jealousy, desperation, angst, and more. Even amongst the newfound happiness blossoming within his chest at such a detrimental obstacle being overcome, anxiety is still the most overwhelming feeling consuming him. It’s a bit nerve-wracking inching closer and closer to the final moments where he can confidently say you’re his with no repercussions. He’s been reflecting on how things will change between you both when finally crossing over this hump, and how things will flourish sans the threats to your futures. He doesn’t want to get too ahead of himself, though.
“Continue,” you encourage him, “I’m listening.”
“I just wanted to see you in person before I have to disappear, and tell you that I know you’re going to do amazing on your exams,” Yunho’s gentle voice imparts. He lowers it further to add, “I’m very proud of you and…”
When he trails off, you turn to plant your chin on his chest and peer up at him with coy eyes, “And?”
“And… I love you,” he whispers, eyes flickering up for the briefest second to confirm you’re still in solitude.
Your gentle laughter at his neverending caution is like music to his ears. He’s still learning how to comfortably say those words without being fearful of not hearing them back. The feeling of his arms letting you go in favor of his hands holding either side of your face steals the opportunity to return his words of adoration. Instead, you put those unspoken words into the kiss he doesn’t hesitate to initiate. When you reach up and pull him by the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and encouraging him to let go, he feels his nerves finally melt away for this moment and this moment only. Yunho pulls away before he can get too lost in the feeling of not caring where you both are, and the way you’re led to chase his lips has heat prickling your cheeks.
“You know, the store’s nearly empty… Might even just be me and you,” you hum. Yunho’s eyes don’t leave yours, even as he feels your hand mischievously skirt down his chest to tap at the belt buckle under his sweater. When your fingers dare to dance further down to the crotch of his jeans, he finally takes hold of your wrist. “Oh come on, are you still nervous?”
He shakes his head confidently, “Just think it’d be more fun to reward you once your exams are over. Making you wait a lil might be fun, no?”
“You sure you can go a couple weeks without it?” You taunt him with a cock of your head. “All that stress while grading finals adds up, no?”
“Is this coming from the same woman who spent two weeks away from me in the arms of another man before I knew about it?” He immediately counters, eyebrows dancing with mischief. “I’ll be just fine. You, on the other hand, are a needy little thing it seems.”
“Don’t make me consider going back,” you warn him.
Yunho’s eyes find the ceiling as he inhales a deep, frustrated breath. Provoking him like this is unfair and dirty. If he were a man with no self-control, he’d have half a mind to have you in this aisle on your knees, putting that mouth to better use than spouting such nonsense. For now, he simply purses his lips and nods curtly.
“That’s okay, be that way,” he concedes in a voice low enough for your ears only, “Because the next time I get my hands on you…”
He trails off while palming your ass through your leggings and squeezing to his heart’s content. The yelp you let out at his fingers sinking in a little deeper than usual makes a pleased smile tug at his lips. He’d say a lot more, let those lewd thoughts entering his mind go freely for once, but the sounds of feet shuffling not too far away shut him up just as fast as he could think to say them. You both separate abruptly and face opposite shelves. How disappointing…
Yunho clears his throat before finally sighing, “On that note, I look forward to receiving your paper tonight.”
“I look forward to you reading it, Mr. Jeong,” you hum, and he can hear the smile lingering on your words. It’s been quite some time since he heard such formalities come from your mouth. “I hope it ends up being worth the wait. You did help me craft it, after all.”
Behind you, his warm chuckle is followed by him laying a comforting hand on your head.
“See you at graduation, ____,” he whispers.
When he departs, being left alone doesn’t feel so lonely for once.
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“okay, slow down, you’d never done this until 5 minutes ago” with virgin carmy 🧎🏼♀️
Hello, Anon! 💜
Of course! This takes place in his Copenhagen era. Thank you for allowing me to continue my ongoing campaign for Virgin!Carmy 😌 I hope you like it!
"I didn't expect you to cook," you said, watching Carmy plate pasta with ease, a healthy serving of parmesan cheese on top. "Thought you'd be sick of it at the end of the day. It smells delicious, by the way."
"Thanks," he smiled shyly as he sat in front of you, the boat swaying a little. "Wanted to make you something from home."
You didn't know what to expect when Terry arranged for you to meet up with her new golden boy, Carmy, but this was feeling more and more like a blind date. Weirdly enough, you didn't mind her meddling this time.
"Where's home?" you asked.
"Chicago. You?"
"I don't even know where my home is anymore. Before Copenhagen, I was in London for a long while. And I haven't been to visit Aunt Terry in months..."
Carmy arched an eyebrow but didn't ask.
"She's my godmother, Chef Terry, not my actual aunt. I don't usually tell people about it, don't want to make her look bad," you shrugged, something about Carmy made it so easy to open up. "For whatever it's worth, I tried to stay away from cooking and baking and everything, I really did. I just couldn't."
"I get it. Why desserts though?" he asked.
"There's something freeing about them," you bit your lip, trying to put it into words. "You know how they're described, right? It's always decadent, confection, guilty pleasure - things like that. You can be creative."
When you looked up, Carmy was smiling - he looked younger and softer.
"I like that. Sounds nice."
"It is," you smiled back and took a forkful of spaghetti. It was delicious. "Oh, this is incredible," you hummed.
Carmy beamed.
While you dried the dishes, you caught a glimpse of one of Carmy's drawings.
"You make these?"
He looked up from the sink and flushed. "Helps me remember details," he explained shyly, avoiding your gaze.
You learned he had notebooks full of vegetables and dishes, diagrams for plating and cooking. You were surprised to find one of the pastries you had been working on perfecting there too, notes scribbled on the side. Your fingernails traced the lines carefully.
"You can have it," he offered.
"Really?"
He had an adoring, boyish look on his face and you melted inside.
"Yeah," he said, tearing out the page and giving it to you.
"Thanks," you said and without thinking, leaned in to kiss him.
It was quick, a gentle peck. As soon as you parted, you realized you wanted more - you both did.
"Can you- Would you do that again?" Carmy asked.
You tilted your head, moving slowly, relishing the moment right before the kiss, the way his lips parted slightly in anticipation. When you pressed your lips to his again, you took your time, let him cup your face and caress your waist as your tongue touched his lower lip.
When you parted, he looked relieved - that you wanted him as much as he wanted you.
"I didn't think we would do anything like this tonight," you said, your voice breathy from the kisses Carmy was leaving on your neck and collarbone.
You had spent the last half hour making out on his bed, slowly losing layers of clothing. Your blouse and trousers were on the floor, along with his jeans and t-shirt. His right hand was on your breast, caressing your nipple through the fabric of your sports bra, your right hand was palming his cock through his boxers.
"Neither did I," he exhaled into your skin, his thumb hooking on the elastic of your panties. "It's good though?"
He looked up at you for confirmation.
"I- uh-" you hesitated.
"Shit," Carmy froze, starting to withdraw from you.
"No, wait, Carmy," you grabbed his wrist before he could get away. "It's great. You're great. It's just, I've been busy so I didn't- It's a little hairy down there is what I'm trying to say," you said awkwardly, your fingers intertwined with his on your hip, trying to convey your meaning.
Carmy tilted his head, confused. "Okay... Something wrong?"
"I don't know if you're, uh, used to girls that shave it all or- I don't know. Men can be assholes about body hair," you said, a little defensively.
"I'm not used to anything," Carmy said, chuckling nervously. "I like what you look like."
"Oh," you smiled. "Okay."
"Okay?"
You nodded, getting rid of your bra, while he tugged down your underwear.
Carmy got close, his right hand moving to cup your pussy, carding his fingers through the hair, caressing. It made you hum.
"Want to taste you," he whispered.
"Yes," you squeezed his bicep, encouraging him.
"Just- Shit. I think I might be bad at it," he said, his eyes suddenly looked vulnerable.
"Evil ex told you that?" you asked gently, trying to lighten the mood.
He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "I've never done it," he confessed. "Don't want to fuck it up with you."
"Carmy," you touched his chest, tracing soothing patterns, calming him. "You said you wanted a taste, right?" he nodded. "There's no way you can fuck that up. If you make me feel good, that's great but I don't need it to be perfect, okay?"
He kissed you, slow and soft - thank you. Then, deep and full of lust - I want you.
He made his way down your body, licking and nipping at skin, stopping between your legs. You opened them wider for him to settle. He took a good look at you, fingers touching your outer lips with care.
"Beautiful," he exhaled and it tickled you in the most delicious way. You shivered.
He started giving you long, vertical licks, tracing the contour of your folds, almost like he was trying to memorize the shape of you. You moaned low. It was good. There was no rhythm to it but was making you wet and restless.
"Mhmm," you encouraged him, carding your fingers through his curls.
Tracing the lines of you and listening to your breathing, he found your clit. After a couple of his licks were followed by sharp inhales he decided to stay there, kissing and licking, becoming frantic, quickly addicted to the sound of your pleasure.
"Oh! Fuck. Okay, slow down, you’d never done this until five minutes ago," you pulled on his hair, trying to keep his tongue from completely undoing you.
"Shit. That bad?" Carmy asked, sitting up.
"Too fast," you tried to catch your breath. "Too fast."
"Fuck, sorry," he soothed the skin of your thighs and your hips.
"It's- You found the spot. That's good. Just- take your time with it," you explained. "Let me savor it."
He chuckled, your play on words reminding him that he had tasted you and then some.
"Okay," he kissed the valley between your thigh and your hip, soft and sensual, like he was trying it out.
You smiled fondly, watching him slowly kiss his way back to your pussy, open-mouthed, gentle. A needy sound caught in the back of your throat when he finally got close to where you wanted him.
Carmy's eyes widened.
"Oh. Got it," he mumbled, realizing that half the fun was making you wait for it.
He tortured you, carefully finding every place that gave you pleasure. Then, he built up a rhythm that had you writhing on the sheets, fighting the grip he had on your hips, trying to fuck his face, and he paused.
"I've made a monster," you complained, panting and caressing his face - shiny with his sweat and your arousal.
"Fuck," he groaned. "Can't believe you're letting me do this."
You exhaled and giggled giddily. "Can't believe you're enjoying this so much."
"Mhmm," Carmy nuzzled the inside of your thigh, his roman nose tracing zigzags while you caught your breath.
When he started again, he was a little rougher - sucking harder than he had dared so far, hoisting your legs above his shoulders. You moaned low and squeezed your breast, looking for something to keep you grounded. Carmy caught your movements and rushed to replace your hand with his, humming in approval as you intertwined your fingers. You closed your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure.
He stopped for a second.
"Eyes on me," he growled.
And he kept on devouring you.
You struggled to keep eye contact with how vehemently he was sucking on your pussy, lewd noises coming from his mouth. He was making you gasp for breath and grab desperately at the bedsheets underneath.
You were vaguely aware of the mattress shaking - was Carmy grinding into it? You didn't check or ask any further questions - he was humming in delight against your pussy, lips closed around your clit and eyes fixed on you. He arched his eyebrows. Now? You nodded eagerly.
"Please, Carmy," you keened.
He kept sucking on you, his grip on your breast and thigh getting forceful enough to bruise as you reached your high. You came with a needy sound, something between a whine and an exhale, legs shaking and hips grinding towards his face.
You regained your bearings just in time to see Carmy humping the mattress desperately, drowning gravelly moans into your thigh as he came too.
"Fuck," you sighed, your fingers soothing Carmy's scalp, probably sore from you pulling on it hard all that time. "Oh, my God. Carmy..."
"Sorry. Shit, sorry," he panted, his sticky cheek resting on your hip.
"Are you seriously apologizing for making me cum?" you giggled.
"I couldn't hold it back any longer," he explained.
You didn't tell him how hot it was to see him like that, completely lost in wanting you, cumming in his boxers because he liked eating you out that much. He wouldn't believe it.
So instead you said: "Guess that means we'll have to see each other again. So I can repay the favor."
#i love when carmy's a little pathetic 😌💜#would chef terry arrange this? probably not. but olivia colman would <3#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto x you#carmy x you#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto fanfiction
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Could you do a brother’s best friend!Megumi x reader?
like her brother being overprotective, but being oblivious of his best friend’s crush on her sister?
(not the) best kept secret
- fushiguro megumi x reader
cool, brooding and handsome. your crush on your brother's best friend is a secret you only keep to yourself. little do you know, he too feels the same. and so, your love story—and the trials and tribulations that come with it—begins.
genre/warnings: college au, reader being yuji's little sister and him and your family being protective, fluff, mutual pining, tiny weeny angst if you squint? with happy ending ofc!
notes: awww anon, this ask is so cute and so hidden love-coded! did you watch hidden love too? because this piece draws inspiration from that ehe. and uh it turned out longer than i expected and i haven't proofread it but pls enjoy!
general masterlist
You have had a crush on your brother’s best friend, Megumi, for a while now.
Actually, scratch that. For a long time now, since you were in middle school, in fact.
In your eyes, he was really cool. He was reserved and not very talkative, which was a stark contrast to your brother Yuji, who could talk a mile a minute every day. It always baffled you why the two could be bosom friends.
And he treated you well. Megumi may have bonked Yuji’s head at any given chance, but with you, he was different. He was gentler, kinder, and overall just considerate. Sometimes he would even pick you up in your brother’s place, and your heart would beat out of your chest from sheer giddiness.
Little did you know, he too didn’t quite see you as a mere sister of his friend.
It started with head pats. You heart would flutter and he would be more conscious of his actions. Yuji had furrowed an righteous eyebrow at the sight.
“Oi, Fushiguro, that’s some favoritism there!” he whined. “I helped you with homework and what did I get—”
“Shut up, Itadori.”
And then the text messages. You didn’t know how or why you ended up texting him on daily basis. He was the one who texted you first a few months ago, having obtained your number from a mutual friend in your circle to ask about the best gift for Yuji’s birthday. And somehow up until now, you found yourselves telling him how your day went, and he the same.
you: i've just finished my class today. so tired megumi: oh? mine is still in session. quite boring you: i see. well, ganbatte!
Those little interactions made your day, and for now, you were quite satisfied with them. But when your phone buzzed once again, signaling a new text, you couldn't resist the urge to swiftly open the messaging app to expect the expected.
megumi: wanna grab lunch later?
It was so incredibly childish, but you felt like winning.
Lunch invitations were often. You spent the whole duration of lunch with him almost every day at this point. The two of you talked about many mundane things, and he would have this small smile whenever you griped about your hard tests or annoying classmates.
Head pats. Texts. Lunches.
And then there was Nobara.
Now, don't get me wrong. You adored her—she was a fun person, pretty and you even looked up to her as your role model at some point. If Yuji somehow ended up with her, you were sure to give them 200% of your blessings.
But seeing her with Megumi was another story. Sometimes you envied your brother's close knit group of three. They had been friends since middle school, and it was granted that Nobara would spend a whole load of time with both your brother and Megumi. With Yuji, she was harsher and didn't take him seriously, but you couldn't deny what your peers had been whispering and what you yourself found very plausible—she and Megumi would make a fine match.
It wasn't your intention at all, but ever since you saw him and Nobara at the toy shop together, pulling for popular merchandises in gacha box, you started losing confidence in yourself and inadvertently put this distance between you and him.
At first it was subtle, Megumi didn't even realize it. But when your replies were few and far in between, he decided it was time to address the problem.
"You don't answer my texts," he stated one day, barely catching you at campus during the lunchtime. Now that he thought about it, you kept denying his lunch invitations too. "Are you avoiding me?"
"I, um," you stuttered. You didn't anticipate running into him, to be honest, and so you were at loss of words. "It isn't like that..."
Megumi figured that he had done something to make you feel like you should avoid him, but he didn't want the two of you to be in this awkward situation any longer, so he led you away from the crowd to your usual place of hanging out after lunch—the rooftop.
"Have I done something?" he asked warily. "It's okay, you can tell me."
"No, Megumi, I—"
"I don't want us to be like—this," Megumi said, his face contorting with a deep frown. "I don't like it at all."
Typically, he regarded friendships as a pain, but not with you. Not with the girl he had been pining over for who knows how long now.
Yuji's sister. He had to remind himself of that fact so many times and yet his heart didn't seem to get it. You were his best friend's dearest sister, and yet he fell for you regardless. If Yuji knew, he would definitely had some opinions on this.
And so for the last few months, he kept it hidden under his sleeves. He approached you, befriended you, took you out on lunch dates—acting on his growing feelings for you and yet he didn't have the courage to confess still.
But enough was enough. If not confessing meant losing you altogether, then he was willing to take the risk. At the very least, if you did reject him, he would have gone down with a fight.
"Y/N, I don't know if you're already aware of this or not, but..." he gulped. Apparently this wasn't as easy as he thought, especially when you met his gaze with your cutely confused ones.
"I have feelings for you. I... like you, quite much."
His voice was clear, without any hint of doubt. You were taken aback and widened your eyes out of surprise.
"You do...?" you shyly asked him back, finding it hard to believe. Fushiguro Megumi, the boy you've been crushing on since you were 15, when you were only able to hide behind Yuji and saw him from afar. The boy who once was indifferent to you, was now confessing his feelings for you? He liked you back in the same way you liked him?
"I do," he replied with clarity, and then a smile. That small smile that always made your insides do somersaults. "I want to ask you out for a while now, but since well... you know... out of consideration for your brother, I felt like I couldn't simply whisk you away."
To his surprise, you laughed, and Megumi found himself breathless. The way you laugh was so mesmerizing in his eyes, reminding him why he could fall in love with you in the first place.
"I like you too, Megumi."
And that was all he needed. Apparently that confirmation was enough to forget that you were the sister of his long-time friend, and that it was fine even if you were. After all, since when was it a crime to romance your best friend's sister?
Still, you two decided to keep it under the wraps first. Springing this on Yuji would startle him, you reasoned, and he agreed. It was more convenient this way anyways.
Your relationship with Megumi was a happy one. He was curt, but never failed to look out for you. He remembered things you liked, and would take you out on places you wanted to go. Arguments were there—granted, sometimes he was just too stubborn, so you may have a clash of opinions—but in the end, the two of you always managed to work it out.
But there was always something melancholic in Megumi that you weren't sure you could touch at all. Perhaps it was due to his upbringing—his incomplete family. You tried to fill that gap, giving him many fun and happy memories, hoping it would replace his sad ones. He was grateful for that.
Nonetheless, the reality persisted that your brother, Yuji, remained completely oblivious to all of this. Yuji still thought that you were his innocent younger sister, and Megumi was his best bro. Sometimes you felt bad to do all this behind his back, and yet you made no move to rectify it.
“Hey, let’s ask Fushiguro to join too!” Yuji would say, and you would agree. And then, in front of him, you and Megumi would refrain from being too friendly, and he would be none the wiser.
All things have karma. You have built your karma too, for deceiving your kind and sweet brother.
"Fushiguro! How could you?!"
When Yuji's fist collided with his jaw, honestly Megumi had given up on fighting back, because one, there was no chance of winning against him, and two, your scream pierced the air, filled with worry for him.
You two just had to be found out in the worst way possible—while making out. It was wrong in so many levels in the first place. Why and how did you even initiate making out in your house that you shared with your brother?
"It could've been anyone," Yuji fumed with anger, his teeth clenching. "Anyone at all! And yet it has to be Y/N—my own sister! Fushiguro, have you ever considered the magnitude of betrayal this is to me?"
"Yuji! Please stop!" you tried to intervene. "He's not at wrong—it was me who—"
"No, you don't get any say in this!" for the first time, you saw your kind brother got angry and it made you quiver in fear. Yuji had never been angry, not to you. "You too, Y/N. How could do this behind my back? The least you could do is telling me!"
"I'm an adult!" you stressed, now irritated at this display of protectiveness from him. "I can date whoever I want and you can't just punch the man who happens to be my boyfriend!"
Honestly, if asked, Yuji wasn’t like 100% against your relationship with Megumi. He and Megumi practically grew up together, he knew the best and worst parts of him, and overall he still considered him decent.
But what made it hurt was that the two of you decided to leave him out. It made him doubt everything he knew about his best friend. How could he trust his sister to someone he found hard to trust?
He turned to Megumi, who was still slumped on the floors of his garage. “No. If he really likes you that much, then he will willingly accept this.”
Megumi understood, if his own sister was dating… let’s say, someone like Gojo, whom he trusted but not at the same time, he too would definitely beat the crap out of him.
And so he willingly endured all the blows. Yuji had to let off steam, and this pain was worth everything if it meant he would give his blessing for you.
Yuji was taken aback that his friend actually let him do this. When Megumi got thrown one last time and almost passed out, Yuji finally decided that it was the end.
His best friend and his sister… it was almost laughable if he didn’t feel like the biggest fool between the two of you.
He saw how you immediately sauntered towards him with tears in your eyes, muttering several apologies. Yuji wanted to snort, but then Megumi took a hold of your hand that was on his bruised cheek, and smiled, saying that it was okay.
And despite himself, his heart felt warm. Seeing the usual gruff and cold Megumi be this… soft with you seemed to open his eyes to something more.
Looking back, he could’ve had realized it when Megumi started to get touchy with you. He completely missed that the head pats were actually his subtle way of expressing his fondness for you.
Yuji decided to leave you be. At least he had made his point across, and he hated to say it outright, but perhaps, it was okay after all for you to be with him.
Okay didn’t mean you two had obtained his full blessing, though. But another event soon changed his perspective.
“Itadori,” Megumi’s ragged breaths was what he registered first through the sudden phone call. “Please come here—Y/N—she was—”
It was Yuji’s first time to witness pure panic from Megumi. He proceeded to tell him how you had been in pain and then collapsed, and that he had brought you to the hospital.
When Yuji arrived at the hospital, he once again saw how restless his friend was over your wellbeing. He could no longer deny it—the sight moved him.
“Hey, you awake?” Megumi’s face was the first you saw when you awoke at the hospital bed. He looked so concerned, a frown creased deep in his face. “Are you not in pain anymore?”
No, not quite much anymore, you wanted to say, but your throat felt so dry and you only managed to shake your head lightly.
“That’s good,” he let out a relieved sigh, and that was when you notice your brother at the corner of the room, looking at you two with a somewhat exasperated expression, but then he smiled.
Who knew a severe case of appendicitis would lead to Yuji giving his complete approval for you to date his best friend, huh?
But life is nothing if not full of obstacles. The next obstacle you faced after Yuji’s finding out was your parents.
“Look Y/N, we know. Megumi is a good guy,” you mother started. “We've known him for a long time, of course, personality-wise, we have nothing against him.”
You bit your lower lip in frustration. Beside you at the dinner table, Yuji kept his silence, but listened attentively too.
“It’s just… the matters of his family,” your father added, carefully choosing his words.
“His father is never in the picture, is he? And there are also rather unsettling news about him too.” Your mother was always the one being more straightforward.
Both you and Yuji knew it already. As of now, Megumi only had his stepsister, and last you heard, his father was gambling somewhere and then became a convict. Megumi said he had cut ties with him, but there was no such thing as an ex-father. Until forevermore, Fushiguro Toji, a criminal, was his biological father.
“Mom, I know your concern,” Yuji had finally decided to step up, and you were grateful for that. “Fushiguro won’t end up—”
“Yes, we know,” your mother emphasized, letting out a sigh. “But we are your parents, Yuji, Y/N. If there’s even the slightest chance, we worry. We want the best for you. Always.”
You were at a loss.
You were young, and yet you already saw him in your distant future. Being with Megumi felt so right and comfortable. He was your safe space as you were his.
But you also understood where your parents’ concerns came from, or at least tried to. At least until you found out how your father approached Megumi to talk him into thinking your relationship over.
"How could you, Dad?" you asked, aghast. "You're... practically intimidating him into breaking up with me!"
"Y/N, listen—I never meant it like that," your father tried to explain himself, and yet you were already too heartbroken to hear him, and so you shut the door to your room, not giving him any chance.
Why did your relationship suddenly become everyone's business? Why couldn't they just let you be an adult?
Megumi could still hear your father's words rang in his ears.
"Y/N... we raised her with love and care," your father said with a forlorn expression. By all means, Megumi knew that he meant well. "She's always spoiled, my only daughter... Megumi-kun, you must understand, it's not easy for us too."
He knew that his rather colorful past would get in the way one way or another, and he had come to accept it. But it still stung, because of course, he wanted full blessings from the family of the girl he fell in love with.
You were like a ray of sunshine in his dreary life. Like Yuji, your presence had made an impact on him. Your cute smiles, pouts and vulnerability around him... he loved them all.
He would get upset when you looked sad, just as you were now.
"It's really okay... Y/N." He swiftly wiped your tears with his thumb, as you sniffled. "I didn't take it to heart. Your father is just worried about you... I can understand that."
"But still—h-he shouldn't do that," you replied amidst your small sobs. Above all, you didn't want your father to have spooked him. "Megumi... I don't want to break up with you."
And honestly he didn't expect that. You were afraid of him... leaving you?
He, who did everything he could, just to have you to be by his side?
"Sir, I know where you are coming from. As of now, I don't have much. But I can say this with confidence—I... love your daughter very much, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is happy."
"Stupid," he huffed, putting a hand on your head, before messing up your hair. And gosh, you were so cute, glaring at him through your lashes.
"I won't. I've told your father that too actually."
"Just give me two years," Megumi added with unwavering voice, staring at your father earnestly. "After graduation, I'm getting my life in order. I'll secure a stable job and do my best. I'm... going to prove it to you, and you can be the judge if I can finally deserve Y/N or not."
He was 16 when he knew you, seeing you as nothing but a little girl too timid to approach him. And he was 19 when he realized that you were everything he wanted in a girl of his dreams.
At one point in his life, Megumi thought it was okay to be alone. But ever since getting to know you, he realized that loving and being loved by you were the greatest happiness of existence.
"Thank you," he muttered afterwards, as you were still starstruck that he apparently had the balls to declare something like that before your father.
"Thank you for giving me so much love. Because of you, I realized that I too deserve to be loved."
You could feel tears glassing your eyes once again. “You are. I’m glad that you finally think so.”
And that was it—your love story. Something that had started when you were 15, and ended ten years later when you were 25, with swearing your love for each other in front of the sacred altar before your closest family and friends, and Megumi by your side.
#fushiguro megumi x reader#jjk x reader#fushiguro megumi x oc#jujutsu kaisen#megumi fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#fushiguro megumi fluff#angst#megumi x you#fushiguro megumi x y/n#megumi#fushiguro#jjk#megumi x yn#megumi x y/n#megumi fluff#fushiguro x you#itadori yuji#kugisaki nobara
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The Elevator Game Gone Wrong [M.S]
type: fic!
pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
warnings: long , sfw , fluffy , paranormal activity , hint of getting an attachment (wink wink) , elevators , ritual run through
summary: as you and the triplets join sam and colby in investigating the most haunted hotel in texas , the two ghost hunters suggest that Matt participates in a ritual called The Elevator Game . little did everyone know that the ritual would actually work and your boyfriend would get stuck in another part of existence .
notes: i HAD to write a fic based off the SnC x sturniolo collab . n when I found that the sam n colby made matt do this ritual , i knew i had to write a fic based off it :3 hope you guys enjoy reading part one ! be on the lookout for part two <3
WC: 7098
PT2
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Is the red light really necessary?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow raising as he watches Sam turn on a large red light and set it behind the camera propped up in front of them.
“It adds a more dramatic effect to the video.” Sam shrugs, taking a few steps back to check if the light is fine in the viewfinder.
“Well it looks rather terrifying in here so good job guys.” You say, holding up two thumbs up as a small smile spreads across your lips.
“We try.” Colby smiles, shrugging his shoulders a little before he leans back against his arms on his spot on the mattress.
“You guys ready to start?” Sam asks as he adverts his gaze from the camera to you and the triplets.
“We were born ready.” Chris replies, a determined expression clear on his face as he nods faintly. Sam takes a quick glance over at Colby and waits for the male to give him a thumbs up before turning back towards the camera. Without warning, a spew of random sounds spill out of Sam’s mouth as he waves his arms about. Colby follows suit with the random shenanigan and you and the triplets laugh softly at the two before their actions come to a quick halt.
“It is ritual time.” Sam states as he clasps his hands together and glances over at all of you.
“Yay.” Nick says, his voice monotone as he wipes his mouth with his hand.
“Love the sound of that.” Matt comments, earning a small laugh from his two brothers.
“We are going to do something that we’ve never done before on this channel.” Sam starts, his tone nothing but serious as Nick and Chris let out small shouts of excitement. “We are going to be doing something called The Elevator Game.”
As Matt and Nick begin to clap softly, Chris speaks up. “That sounds like a very pleasing game to partake in.” The male jokes, earning a small snicker from you as you clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter.
“You guys said you love elevators, right?”
“Big fans.” Nick replies with a small smile.
“I hate elevators.” Matt states, his comment drawing laughter from the four other boys in the room.
“Perfect!” As you take a quick glance over at Matt, Sam clears his throat for a moment before he continues, “That is very interesting because for this ritual, we need a singular volunteer.”
As Sam slowly looks over and locks eyes with Matt, the rest of the boys look over at the middle triplet with large smiles visible on their lips.
“Yes Matt!” Nick exclaims as he lightly nudges the said male's leg with his knee.
Chris reaches behind you to land a singular hand on the older’s shoulder. “Do you wanna volunteer or should we just rule you in?” The male asks as he pats his brother’s back a few times.
As you lean forward and take in a proper look at your boyfriend, a nervous expression can be seen clear as day on his face as he looks between all the boys in the room. You've known about Matt’s fear of elevators for a little while now. You knew the male would avoid them at all costs unless it was absolutely necessary. In fact, the small mishap that occurred between him and Chris about a year or so ago was the reason why this fear of his became a thing.
During the duration of filming the collaboration with Sam and Colby, yourself and the triplets often took the elevator to travel between the different floors of the hotel you guys were investigating in. Matt, not wanting to draw attention to himself, dragged himself to the elevator everytime you guys went to a different floor. He always stayed in the corner closest to the door, being ready to exit the moment anything suspicious started happening.
Speaking of which, when the small malfunction in the elevator occurred when you guys and the tour guides went to go to a different floor and the elevator started acting up, you immediately picked up on Matt’s anxious behavior. When Sam mentioned that someone should step out to see if the same issue with the doors would happen, Matt immediately volunteered and practically ran out of the elevator and stayed outside for a little while until you guys sorted the situation out.
You had a feeling that Sam and Colby would ask Matt to do this Elevator Ritual when he mentioned his strong dislike for elevators. You knew that your boyfriend would immediately decline because that’s one of his fears but you also knew that the male wouldn’t wanna pass this opportunity up and seem like a pussy.
“I’ll go on the elevator.” Matt states, earning excited shouts from all the boys, more specifically Sam and Colby. You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend when he looks over at you. The male subtly takes your hand in his and squeezes your hand three times, signifying that he’ll be alright.
“Face that fear, Matt.” Chris says as he gently claps his hands together, a proud smile visible on his lips.
“So that means that Matt and I are going to go into the elevator and go through all 13 floors.” Sam says, his voice low as he looks over at the said male who sends him a little smile.
“That sounds wonderful.” Nick comments as he nods his head and gently pats Matt’s knee.
“Then you guys can stay in the lobby and be with-“
“Samantha!” Colby shouts, accidentally cutting the blonde off.
“Yes, Daddy Driskill and Samantha will be accompanying you guys while we do the ritual.” Sam nods, earning excited shouts from Nick and Chris.
“Yes! The big D!” Nick exclaims, excitement running through his veins as he claps a few times.
“I am going to explain the rules of The Elevator Game now.” Sam says as he looks straight into the camera. “Now, since the game is a summoning ritual, it is said to, if it works, take us to another plane of existence. I don’t exactly know if that will happen but it’s worth a shot.”
“Oh my God… That’s not terrifying at all.” Chris jokes as he lands a few playful pokes on Matt’s back. “You better be ready, kid.”
“Also very important note, there is a chance that we may never come back.” Sam adds, earning shocked exclamations from you and the triplets.
“Isn’t that lovely.” You say as you subconsciously begin to trace circles on the back of Matt’s hand with your thumb.
“Right? We might never come back.”
“Chris, I think that’s a sign that you and I should get our license. Who the hell is gonna drive us around if Matt doesn’t come back?” Nick asks, leaning forwards a little to lock eyes with Chris.
“Shit, you're right.” Chris mumbles, a single hand coming up to rub the side of his face. “Matt, please come back after you do the ritual. I really dont wanna have the responsibility of doing all the laundry.”
“As long as you guys don’t jinx me, I'm sure I’ll be perfectly fine.” Matt reassures as he lands a soft hit to Chris’ back.
“I agree with Matt. You guys can’t jinx us.” Sam says as he points a single finger towards all of you, causing you guys to all stick y’all’s hands up in defense. “Anyways, onto the rules.” The blonde digs in his pocket to fish his phone out. After unlocking the device, he pulls up the rules and instructions of the ritual. “So. We are going to have to push a series of buttons and make sure that no one else gets onto the elevator. If the whole place has 13 floors, which this hotel does, then it will summon something on the final floor. We will start in the lobby and go to four, two, six, back to two, ten, and then five. Five is the most haunted floor and the final bit of the ritual.”
“I love the sound of this guys. I’m so excited.” Matt says, sarcasm laced in his tone as looks down at his lap and uses his free hand to ruffle his hair.
“Are you regretting volunteering?” Chris asks, a small laugh escaping him as he takes in the older’s stressed state.
“Umm..” Matt starts as he lifts his head back up and looks ahead of him. “I’d rather it be me than you to be honest.” A unison of ‘oh!’s fill the room as Chris narrows his eyes at Matt. “I feel like you would just be better in the elevator than Chris would.” Matt adverts his statement to Nick as he reaches over to his left and lightly hits the older’s arm.
“Alrighty then. I guess that makes sense.” Chris says as he rubs the slight stubble forming on his chin.
“You just seem to be the person that’s less fit and prepared to do this.” Nick adds, his head slightly tilting to the side as he looks over at the youngest triplet. As you stifle a laugh and cover your mouth, Chris’ jaw drops as a fake hurt expression spreads across his face.
“We got some sibling banter over here.” Sam says to the camera as he juts his thumb towards the three brothers. “Anyways, back to the rules of the game. Once we reach the fifth floor, the door will obviously open and it is said that on this said floor, especially knowing that it's the most haunted floor, a female spirit will walk into the elevator with us. To end the ritual, we must press one and go back to where you guys are.”
A few excited shouts fill the room as all the boys shake their fists. “However!” Sam exclaims, cutting off the shouting as he gently clasps his hands together.
“Of course there’s a however.” Nick mumbles, earning a small laugh from Colby as the red-head crosses his arms over his abdomen.
“Rituals can never be all cupcakes and rainbows, you know.” Sam says with a small smile before he diverts his attention back to the camera. “If the ritual is a success, the elevator won’t go to the lobby. It will go up and start ascending. If that happens, that means we’ve successfully summoned something into the elevator.”
“Are you serious?” Colby asks, a small laugh escaping his lips as he sends the blonde a shocked expression.
“Is that when the chance of you guys not coming back comes into play?” You ask, a worried expression spreading across your face as you look up at Sam.
“Yes.” The blonde replies, softly nodding his head as he turns around and locks eyes with you.
“Some Willy Wonka shit is gonna happen then.” Nick jokes, trying to lighten the tense mood filling the room. It seems to work as soft laughter comes from you and the rest of the boys. “We’re just gonna hear a loud crash as the elevator flies out of the hotel.”
“We’re just gonna be flying into the oblivion.” Sam adds as he shoots his arm up to mimic the action of the elevator flying.
“Yeah, I will not be very happy if that happens.” Matt points a finger at Sam as the latter laughs softly. “If I get stuck in this elevator, I feel bad for Sam. That’s all ima say.”
“Awh.” Sam chuckles lightly as he brings a hand up to his chest. “Considering the amount of mishaps we’ve had with the elevator earlier, I really hope nothing bad happens.”
“If shit goes down after we’re done with the ritual, you guys are gonna be next.” Matt points both his pointer fingers towards Nick and Chris who hurriedly shake their heads.
“Let’s just hope you come back first.” Nick says as he lands a hand on Matt’s shoulder.
“They will come back, don’t worry.” Colby reassures as he looks over at Sam and gently nods his head.
“Well, we’ll never find that out if we don’t do it. So shall we get this ritual started?” Sam asks he turns towards all you guys, a large smile visible on his lips as he rubs his hands together.
“Hell yeah!” Chris exclaims as he slips off the mattress.
“Let’s all head to the lobby then.” As Sam walks up to the camera to shut it off, Nick and Colby follow Chris in exiting the room. After ensuring that the males leave and that Sam is busy with the camera, you look over at Matt who’s began to fiddle with the horse chain on his neck.
“You really wanna do this?” You whisper, your voice low as you lean in closer to your boyfriend.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. It’s just an elevator, right?” Matt replies as he looks over at you. As he sends you a small smile, you gently nod your head and slip off the bed. You stick your hand out to Matt, who quickly takes it and allows you to pull him up to his feet. Before following Sam out the door, you land a quick kiss on Matt’s temple before guiding him out of the room.
༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
Upon arriving in the lobby, Sam and Colby begin to set up their equipment as you and the triplets patiently wait in front of the elevator.
“Alright.” Sam begins as he adjusts his hold on the camera in his hand before turning it on. “Any thoughts before we start Matt?”
“Umm…” Matt starts as he begins to rock back and forth on his heels. “I have to say that the nausea I’ve been feeling for the past five minutes or so has increased significantly.”
“You’ve been feeling nauseous?” Colby asks, adverting his focus from the camera in his hand to look over at Matt, a worried expression clear on his face as he glances over at Sam. The two ghost hunters share a worried look before Nick speaks up.
“We’ve all been feeling a little nauseous.” Nick begins as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I started feeling it when we sat down to eat, Matt started feeling it five minutes ago, y/n started feeling it when we were giving candy offerings to Samantha, and Chris felt it the second we got here.”
“That doesn’t sound very good…” Sam says, his voice trailing off as he gestures Colby to grab something in the backpack. “Maybe we should sage you guys again before we start the ritual.”
“Should we do it here or go outside?” Colby asks as he digs inside the backpack laying at his feet.
“We can do it here.” Colby gently nods his head before bringing the sage out. He gestures you and the triplets to stand in a line before he quickly waves the sage around the four of you. “That should do it. If you guys keep feeling nauseous, we can take a break.”
“We appreciate it guys.” You say with a small smile.
“Of course. Safety comes first.” Sam says, earning a firm head nod from Colby. “Anyways, you ready to start?” Sam turns the camera to Matt and gently pats his shoulder a few times.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Matt replies with a gentle head nod.
“Are you not gonna say goodbye to your siblings and girlfriend? You may never see them again if the ritual works.” Colby asks as he gestures towards you, Nick, and Chris.
Matt turns around and sticks his arm out to Nick, who sends him a glare before hesitantly shaking his hand.
“A hand shake?” Colby laughs softly as Nick wraps his arms around Matt and brings him in for a quick embrace. “See, that’s much better.” After pulling away, Chris and Matt share a firm handshake before also sharing a quick hug.
“Okay, I’ll start googling places where we can get our licenses.” Nick says softly as he brings a hand up to rub his nape.
“Dude, I’m not dead yet…” Matt says, a hurtful expression spreading across his face as he pulls away from Chris who smacks his chest a few times.
“Yet.” Sam repeats, a small laugh escaping his lips as he watches Matt playfully shove Chris back. As the younger giggles softly, Matt turns to you, his gaze softening as he immediately brings you in for an embrace. Collective ‘awh’s come from all the boys when Matt lands a quick peck on your lips and forehead.
“Leave your license behind before you go to another universe please.” Nick says, earning a rapid head nod from Chris. After pulling away from the hug, Matt shakes his head and digs in his pocket to pull out his wallet. As he wordlessly hands Nick his wallet, Chris comes up behind him and grabs both his shoulders.
“I call dibs on that one jacket in your closet by the way.” Chris says, a large smile plastered on his lips as he massages the older’s shoulders.
“Wonderful, alright. We’re all just claiming all my shit.” Matt says with a soft laugh. As the male turns to face you, he raises an eyebrow when he takes in your smiley face. “You too?”
“I only want a few stuff.” You defend as you hold up your hand and pinch your pointer finger and thumb together.
“Yeah, okay. Like that’s believable.” As Matt laughs and shakes his head gently, the sound of the elevator dinging causes all of you to quickly turn around.
“What the fuck?” Colby mumbles, his face falling as he looks into the empty elevator.
“Did you guys push anything?” Sam asks as he points a finger at you and the triplets.
“No. Swear to God we didn’t.” Nick defends as he holds both his hands up.
“It’s fucking midnight.” Colby states after his eyes scan over the numbers plastered on the top of his Lock Screen. He shows the camera his phone to ensure that he's telling the truth before turning the device to you and the rest of the boys.
“I personally would not go in there.” Chris says as he wraps his arms around his torso, a nervous expression clear on his face.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t either.” You add as you reach your hand out to grab Matt’s.
“Well, we can’t back out now. It is twelve o’clock after all.” Sam says, a heavy exhale leaving his lips as he looks over at Colby, the two locking eyes for a moment. “I think that we should start this ritual before more weird shit happens.”
“Please be careful.” You say, your voice firm as you look up at Matt. The male looks down at you and gently cups the side of your face with a single hand, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheek in hopes of calming your sudden anxiety spike.
“We will, don’t worry.” Sam reassures as he begins to walk towards the elevator. He looks inside the small space for a moment, ensuring that nothing and no one is inside before he hesitantly steps in. “You coming?”
Matt quickly shifts his gaze from you to Sam who’s standing at the back of the elevator. “Yeah, I'm coming.” Matt replies. Before the male enters the elevator, he bends down a little to capture his lips in yours. He pulls back after a few seconds and gently caresses your face before joining Sam in the elevator.
“You two be safe.” Chris calls as he moves to take a stand in between you and Nick.
“Yeah, come back please!” Nick adds as he subconsciously wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him.
“We’ll be back, promise.” Sam reassures as he sets a small device in the middle of the elevator.
“Wait, I need photos for the prayer cards.” Nick states, a hand quickly digging in his pocket to fish his phone out. As he opens his camera and faces it towards Matt, the male holds up a small v, practically posing for the camera. You can’t help but giggle at the sight before Nick smiles proudly and puts his phone away.
“Alright, we’re gonna start now guys.” Sam states as he walks up a few steps, his frame being inches away from the entrance of the elevator. After looking over at Matt and gaining a firm head nod from him, the two begin the ritual.
“Please take us to another world.” Matt and Sam say in unison. The blonde reaches over to push a button to close the elevator and takes a few steps back to stand next to Matt. At the sight of the door closing, the male shouts out a small ‘oh god!’, a mix of fear and anxiousness filling his body as he eyes the door.
“Matt, I love you have fun.” Nick says as he makes a small heart with both his hands. Matt sends the red-head a small smile before the doors finally close.
“I really hope nothing bad happens.” Chris mumbles as he shakes his head slightly, nervousness bubbling in him as he stares at the closed elevator doors.
“Me too.” Colby agrees as he forces his lips together in a straight line. The male momentarily turns his back to you and the two brothers to dig inside his backpack. After a few moments of searching, he pulls out two EMF readers and holds them out in front of him. “Which one of you guys would like to have the honors in holding one?”
“I would love to have one.” Nick says, a small smile appearing on his lips as he bounces on his heels a few times.
“Me too.” You add, landing a hand on Nick’s shoulder as the two of you step closer to Colby. The latter gently nods his head and hands the two of you an EMF reader.
“Okay, how should we start this?” Colby asks as he leans his backpack against the wall and focuses the camera on you three.
“We can start walking around to see if we get anything on the EMF readers.” You suggest with a small shrug. Colby nods his head at your suggestion and gestures for you and Nick to begin walking around with his hand.
“Wait, didn’t the tour guide say that-“
“Your reader is going off!” Chris exclaims, accidentally cutting his older brother off as he points to the said device with his pointer finger. The youngest triplet seems to be correct as Nick looks down at the EMF reader in his hand and sees the device light up the first three levels.
“You got anything yet y/n?” Colby asks as he zooms the lenses into Nick’s EMF reader to capture the activity.
“Nope. Nothing yet.” You reply softly as you begin to walk a bit further away from the group, your eyes being locked onto the device in your hand the entire time.
“The tour guide said that the bathroom is one of the most haunted places.” Nick states as he begins to gently wave the EMF reader about, trying to get it to spike up any further. “I think we should go see if we get any activity over there.”
“Great idea, let’s head over there. Lead the way.” Colby gently nods his head towards Nick to encourage the male to lead the group to the bathrooms. The red-head complies and begins to walk towards a hallway a little ways to the right, the three of you following close behind him.
“Let’s see…” Nick mumbles, more to himself than to anyone else. While you and the male walk around and inside the bathrooms, ya’ll don’t get much activity apart from a few spikes that went to yellow.
“Let’s go back to the elevator. We’re not getting much.” You say as you walk out of the women’s bathroom, the door shutting behind you and coming in contact with the heels of your shoes.
Colby nods his head and waits for Nick to return from the male’s bathroom before you guys walk back to the elevator. The moment you stand next to the elevator, your EMF reader spikes all the way to red.
“Mine just went to red.” You say, your voice a little louder than usual to gain the attraction of the three males in the room.
“Holy shit.” Colby mumbles as he quickly makes his way over to you. As he zooms his lens into the device in your hand, Nick and Chris come up to the other side of you and look down at your EMF reader. “Nick, you getting anything?”
“Mines still at yellow.” The red-head replies, momentarily turning the reader so it can face the camera before he turns it back to face him.
“Maybe we should pull out the onvoy and see if we get anything. You know, considering how much activity we’ve been getting around here already.” Colby suggests as he walks back to his backpack and pulls it open.
“What’s that?” Chris asks, his head tilting slightly as he watches the ghost hunger pull a device out of his bag.
“It’s basically a device that gives us yes or no responses through questions we ask.” Colby explains as he crouches down and sets the device on the floor. After turning it on and waiting for it to light up, he looks up at the three of you who are already intently looking at him. “Something just has to physically tap it like so for us to get a response.” Colby sets his pointer finger on the device for a moment and awaits for it to beep a few times and light up yes before he pulls away.
“That doesn’t sound too difficult.” You ponder aloud as you take a momentarily glance towards the EMF reader in your hand.
“It’s not difficult whatsoever. Would you guys like to start asking some questions?”
“Absolutely.” Chris replies with a small smile as the three of you take a seat around the onvoy.
“If there are any spirits that would like to communicate with us tonight, please make yourself known by using this device to answer our questions. All you have to do is come up and touch it to let us know what your thoughts are.” Colby calls out, his head turning around a few times before he turns his focus back to you and the two brothers.
“What should we ask first?” Nick asks gently, his eyes staying fixed on the EMF reader in his hand.
“Do you think that Sam and Matt are gonna make it back to us?” Chris asks, anxiousness laced in his tone as he practically stares down at the onvoy. A few beats of silence pass by before the device dings a few times.
Colby lets out a small gasp of surprise at the sound and leans in close to the onvoy. “It says yes!” The male exclaims happily as he zooms the lens into the response.
The moment the male reads that aloud, the sound of the elevator dinging alerts the four of you. Quickly, you all turn around and collectively let out sighs of relief as the doors open and reveal Sam and Matt.
“You’re done already?” Nick asks, his mouth agape as he watches the two males step out of the elevator rather quickly.
“Yeah, we practically flew through all the floors.” Matt replies, a small, proud smile visible on his lips as he approaches the four of you who are still sitting on the floor. When the male stands behind you, you quickly turn your body to face him, a large smile spreading across your lips, as you immediately reach for your boyfriend’s hand. As you caress it gently and bring his hand up to your lips to land a small kiss on his knuckles, Sam takes a stand next to him.
“Did you guys get anything?” The blonde asks as he stashes the device him and Matt were using in the elevator in his pocket.
“No.” Colby replies with a frown. “We literally asked a single question.”
“Yeah, the one question I asked is ‘Do you think that Sam and Matt are gonna make it back to us?” Chris adds as he gets himself up from the floor and dusts his pants off a little. “The moment it said yes, the door opened.”
“It was crazy timing.” Nick comments as he follows suit in getting up off the floor.
“Really?” Sam asks, his jaw dropping slightly as he looks over at Colby with pure shock in his face.
“Really.” Nick confirms with a firm head nod. “We didn’t have time to ask a bunch of questions. Chris was the only person that got to ask a question.”
“Well, Sam and I encountered no issues while we were doing the ritual. We went through all the floors with ease. However, we didn’t really get anything with the device we were using. I mean, we did get a few words but I found them to be more random than anything.”
“Yeah, that has got to be the fastest ritual we’ve ever experienced.” Colby comments, his head gently nodding as he looks between Sam and Matt.
“It was pretty easy, nothing too difficult.” Matt says, his gaze falling to yours and his intertwined fingers.
“Would you like to do it again then? But by yourself this time?” Sam inquires, a single eyebrow raising as he looks over at the brunette.
Silence fills the lobby as you all stare at Matt, awaiting for his response. You manage to catch your boyfriend’s face falling slightly as he looks over at Sam, his eyes slightly wide as he locks eyes with him. Sensing the male’s sudden anxiety spike, you begin to play with his fingers in hopes of grounding him a little.
Matt blinks hardly a few times as he looks down at you, his eyes basically pleading for you to answer the question for him. At the brunette’s gaze, you pick your free hand up and land a soft poke on his chest, signaling that it’s his call. You watch as the male sighs before he picks his head back up and looks up at his two brothers who shrug at him. Matt forces his lips together and looks over at Sam, his right hand coming up to his nape as he locks eyes with the blonde.
“I would- I don’t-“ Matt sputters, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he digs in the pocket of his pants. “I’d have to write down the numbers…”
“Is that a yes then?” Sam asks, excitement glossing over his eyes as he zooms the lens onto the male in front of him. After Matt gently nods his head in response, collective shouts of encouragement sounds from you and the boys.
“You sure you wanna do it alone?” Chris asks as he walks up to the brunette, a single hand coming up to rest it on his brother's shoulder. “The chance of you never coming back is still there. You’ll be fully alone in another universe.” At the younger’s statement, Nick lands a harsh hit on Chris’s bicep, signaling him to shut up with an intense glare.
“Well, you guys better start looking up ways to get me back if the ritual actually works.” Matt replies, a nervous smile overtaking his features as he begins to fiddle with the horse chain around his neck.
Colby goes to add onto the conversation however, the sound of the elevator dinging alerts all six of you. You all turn around to face the elevator, fear running through y’all’s bodies at the sight of the doors opening more slower than usual.
“I think that’s a sign, Matt.” Sam says as he lands a hand on the said male’s shoulder.
“I guess I’ll go then. Could you text me the numbers?” Matt asks with a soft sigh. As Sam gently nods his head and fishes his phone out of his pocket, Colby walks up to the brunette.
“You wanna take this camera?” The ghost hunter asks as he holds the said device out in front of him.
“Sure.” Colby sends Matt a small smile when the male hesitantly takes the camera from him.
“Matt, please be careful. Like I'm being so for real. I have no idea what we would do without you.” Nick says, a frown overtaking his features as he walks up the middle triplet and lands both his hands on his shoulders.
“I will, don’t worry. If you guys focus on asking questions, I will be back in no time.” Matt reassures, a comforting smile spreading across his lips as he brings the red-head in for a quick embrace.
“Wait, me too. I want a hug as well.” Chris whines as he quickly makes his way over to the three of you. Nick pulls away with a small eye roll and steps aside to allow the younger to get his hug.
“I sent you the numbers. You can head in when you’re ready.” Sam says, his voice soft as he picks his head up and looks over at Matt, the hand that’s holding his phone digging inside his pocket to put the said device away.
“Word.” Matt replies. After Chris breaks away from the hug and steps back, Matt looks over at you and takes in your worried features. “I promise I’ll be alright. I’ll be back in no time.” Your boyfriend gently cups your face with his free hand, the pad of his thumb gently caressing over your soft skin.
You gently nod your head, the faint frown on your lips not faltering as you look deep into your boyfriend’s blue irises that hold a sense of anxiousness. Matt brings your face closer to his to bring you in for a quick kiss. Before pulling away, he nibbles on your bottom lip for a moment.
The brunette removes his hand from your face and gives you a small smile before he turns around to face Sam. “I’m ready.” The male says.
“Alright, go ahead and step in.” Sam instructs as he gestures towards the open and empty elevator. Matt immediately does as instructed and hesitantly steps inside the elevator, a heavy sigh escaping him as he raises the hand that’s holding the camera. “You know what to say.” The blonde says with a smile as he gives the younger male a thumbs up with his free hand.
Matt looks straight at the camera, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to drag over his slightly chapped lips momentarily, before he begins the ritual. “Please take me to another world. I may regret saying that but hey, see you guys later.” Matt takes a final glance at all of you standing a few steps away from the doors of the elevator before he steps toward the panel full of bottoms.
“We love you Matt!” Chris exclaims, both his hands coming up to cup over his mouth to get his voice to project more loudly.
“Be safe!” You add, sliding over to Nick and wrapping an arm around his. You manage to catch Matt waving goodbye before the doors of the elevator finally shut.
“Guys, go subscribe to the Sturniolos.” Sam states as he turns the camera in his hand and points at it.
“And comment about how ballsy Matt is. I’m actually so shocked about how he’s been doing this whole investigation. He’s usually never this open and talkative during stuff like this.” Nick says as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Yeah, I'm actually really proud of him. He's doing phenomenal.” Colby compliments as he gently claps a few times.
“Let’s just hope he hasn’t been too open today. We don’t want him to get any-“ Sam gets cut off by Colby harshly digging his elbow into his side. The blonde winces softly and flinches at the touch, his eyes narrowing as he sends a glare towards his friend.
“Get any what?” You ask, panic flooding in you as you take in Colby’s serious expression.
“Nothing. We should start asking some questions before Matt comes back.” Colby replies, a small smile appearing on his lips as he turns back around. You share a worried look with Nick and Chris before the three of you, including Sam, join Colby in sitting on the floor around the onvoy. “Who would like to ask the first question?”
“I would.” Nick says, picking his head up to lock eyes with Colby. After gaining a small head nod from the male, he takes a deep inhale before speaking, “Was sending Matt alone a good decision?” A few beats of silence pass by before the onvoy dings. Nick bends down slightly to read the response. “Yes!”
“Will Matt find more information regarding what happened at the hotel?” Chris asks as he brings his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them. The onvoy dings seconds after the question. “No…”
“Alright..” You mumble. You clear your throat before asking your question, “Will someone join Matt in the elevator when he reaches the fifth floor?” Like earlier, the onvoy immediately dings as it lights up a response. “Yes. Well isn’t that nice. Doesn’t make my anxiety worse at all.”
The boys all giggle at your statement as you rub your face with both your hands.
“Is Matt in any danger?” Sam asks, momentarily turning the camera around to put himself in the frame before he turns it back around. Again, the onvoy immediately dings a response. You and the boys take a moment to pause and exchange anxious looks before yall lean in and read the response.
“Yes.”
༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
20 minutes have gone by as you and the boys took turns asking questions to the spirits willing to communicate with you guys. Some of the questions have gotten rapid responses while others have taken a little longer to reply. As time slowly ticked away, you felt anxiety bubble inside of you. Matt should’ve been back by now considering how he and Sam returned in less than 10 minutes when they did the ritual. You found yourself continuously looking over at the closed elevator everytime someone else in the group spoke up to ask a question, hoping that the doors would open and reveal your boyfriend. Unfortunately it never happened and the doors remained shut.
“Okay, I'm getting really worried. He should be back by now.” You say, your gaze on the closed elevator doors shifting up to the number 10 glowing brightly in large, bold lettering.
“Well, he’s on the tenth floor right now. All he has to do is go to five and come back.” Sam says as he takes a seat against the wall facing the elevator, his arms coming up to cross over his chest.
“Okay true but what’s taking him so long?” Nick asks, a single hand coming up to his mouth. As the red-head begins to bite on his polished nails, Chris takes a glance over at your focused state. He forces his lips into a straight line, worry and anxiety filling his veins at the thought of Matt not returning.
“He’s at five.” Colby states as he points at the glowing number atop the elevator. The rest of the boys join you and the ghost hunter in looking over at the elevator.
“Please come back.” You whisper under your breath, a sudden lump forming in your throat as you swallow dryly. As you shakily exhale, a sudden poke on your side causes you to jump rather harshly. “What the fuck?” You mumble as you quickly hug your torso and turn around.
“What happened?” Chris asks, his head whipping around to look over at you.
“Did one of you guys poke me?” You ask as you lift your head up.
“None of us touched you.” Colby says as he lifts both his hands up in the air. A wave of nausea suddenly hits you as you slowly turn around to look at Sam, the sight of him looking at you worriedly causing your stomach to churn. As you go to question the blonde, soft giggles bubble up your throat as you feel a series of rapid pokes travel down your other side. After the feeling vanishes, you stumble to your feet and run over to where Nick and Chris are, fear washing over you as you desperately rub your sides to try and get the ghostly feeling away.
“Samantha.” Sam mumbles under his breath, his eyes slightly going wide as he looks over at your panicked state.
“Samantha, if that's you, please leave her alone. You do not have permission to touch her.” Colby states, his tone holding a sense of authority as he takes a few quick glances around the room.
At the mention of the child’s name, Nick’s eyes widen in a mix of terror and shock and he quickly looks down at you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around your slightly shorter frame and brings you flush against him.
“Samantha, are you messing with y/n?” Chris asks as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, his gaze falling to the unused onvoy on the floor.
The said device immediately beeps in response.
Colby lifts himself up from the wall he’s leaning against and walks up to the onvoy. His tall frame bends down slightly before his eyes skim over the response.
“It says yes.” Colby says, his gaze lifting up from the device and shifting over to Sam. The two share a frightened look as you feel your heart drop to your feet. You quickly turn around and bury your face in Nick’s clothed chest, your breath beginning to pick up as you clutch onto the male’s arms rather desperately.
“It’s okay.” Nick whispers as he rests his chin on the top of your head. As he begins to rub comforting circles on your back with his palm, the sound of the elevator dinging pierces your ears. You quickly lift your head and look over at the elevator, the rest of the boys soon doing the same.
“Matt?” You call out, your voice cracking slightly as you slip out of Nick’s hold and run to the elevator.
“y/n wait!” Chris exclaims, his arm extending out to go to grab you and pull you back. His attempt fails however as you slip through the opening of the elevator, not even waiting for the door to fully open. The moment you step inside, you feel your breath get caught in your throat .
Matt isn’t in the elevator.
And the only thing inside is the camera and his horse necklace.
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#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matt x reader#nick x reader#chris x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#paranormal#sam golbach#colby brock#sam and colby#The elevator game
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Don't Kill My Vibe
Title: Don’t Kill My Vibe
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.7K
Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.
Warnings: mention of a breakup, recreational drug use (marijuana), friends-to-lovers trope, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids
A/N: This is an AU where Clark Kent is not superpowered and Superman does not exist. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
It wasn’t the first time Clark asked to try some bud, but it was the most pathetic. His gorgeous blue eyes were puffy from crying over that woman. As much as you wanted to say, “I told you so," you didn’t want him to feel any worse about the failed relationship with his reporter beau, Lois Lane.
And yet again, you think to yourself, ‘Fuck Lois Lane’.
When he showed up at your place an hour ago in sweatpants, sneakers, and a button-up pullover, you were surprised to see he opted for something other than his normal flannel and jeans. His hair was mussed, and he avoided eye contact with you. Something was wrong.
You dragged him into your apartment, turning down your Spotify playlist on the Bluetooth speakers so you could talk over the mellow tunes. While you flopped down on your couch, Clark sat down slowly and sighed.
You were already elevated, having taken a couple of puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “Oh wow” occasionally. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick, and Clark wasn’t stupid.
His eyes looked from yours to the tray on the coffee table that held your various assortments of smoking apparatus, grinder, lighter, and stash box. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he motioned his chin toward everything and said, “I know you’ve said no a million times, but I could use an escape. And before you say no again, know I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to get over somebody, and nothing is working.”
“I have a feeling there’s another thing you haven’t tried either, but whatever,” you rattled on, waving off his confused expression. “Fine. It should be illegal for you to use those puppy eyes when asking me for something, by the way.”
So here you are, preparing a strawberry cone for you and Clark to share. You were always weird about people using your favorite bowl. You also figure that for a first-timer, it would be the easiest for him to start with. Twisting the end after filling the cone, you reach for the lighter and ashtray.
“First things first,” you purr, using your phone to turn the music up. “Now, watch what I do. I’m going to draw the smoke into my mouth and then hold it for a few seconds, or as long as I can, before blowing it back out. Ready?”
Clark nods as he turns toward you, tucking one leg under the other. Now that you have his full attention, you suddenly feel flustered. Casting your eyes downward, you take the cone into your mouth and light the end. You inhale deeply and take it out of your mouth. Savoring the citrus flavor of the strain, your tongue licks your lips, and you exhale.
You close your eyes and take a few breaths. After a moment, you hear Clark’s voice breaking through your haze: “Everything good?”
Your eyes pop open, and just like nothing happened, you perk up. Handing him the cone, you blink as he holds it like someone who has never smoked. You’ve known Clark long enough that you have a suspicion that is probably true for him.
He’s polite, almost to a fault. He screams Boy Scout, altar boy, and ‘promise ring’ all at the same time. What can you say? Clark was a good boy. And you were getting him high. You little devil!
Clark takes a short pull from the pink-colored joint and manages to hold it for about two seconds, then attempts to exhale. A small plume escapes his mouth, he inhales sharply and has a coughing fit. You take the joint back before he drops it and sit it in the ashtray.
Rubbing his back, you try to talk him through catching his breath. You grab your water bottle and hold the straw to his mouth when he nods his thanks. He sips the water, then clears his throat loudly, burping up a bit of smoke. He laughs quickly as he sees it exit his mouth, reminding you of a little surprised dragon.
“That was fun,” he sputters, his voice deeper than usual.
“It gets easier, Clark. Trust me, coughing is normal. And most of the time, coughing gets you higher,” you laugh, picking up the joint to take another hit.
You inhale, exhaling into the air, and hold it out for Clark to take again. He sips from your water bottle and gives it to you in exchange for the joint.
Holding it between two fingers, he brings it to his lips. You watch his mouth curl around the tip, and your brain conjures up the vision of what else that boy’s mouth can do. He takes the joint out of his mouth, holding his breath for a few seconds, then blows it out slowly. He gives it back to you and leans back against the couch.
“I don’t think I feel any different yet. How long does it take to kick in?” he asks, crossing his arms and pouting.
It being his first time, he is completely unaware that he is already high. His body language is different; Clark Kent doesn’t slouch even a little. He also certainly doesn’t fidget; his hands suddenly become very interested in the material of his pullover.
“You’ll feel it sooner than you think,” you mumble, the joint between your lips as you speak.
Twenty minutes later, Clark tells you exactly what the last straw was that ended his relationship with Lois. He pauses to take a hit, handing it back to you as he exhales. “But it was always whatever she wanted. I treat her like a queen. And she goes and blows Jimmy-fucking-Olsen. Then she lies about it after Jimmy comes clean to me. I…,” he trails off, looking over at you and shaking his head as he laughs.
“What?” you question when you realize he stops talking.
“Nothing. I just… I think I’m high,” he giggles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.
“Besides being high, can you describe how you feel?” You press, wanting to know just how high he is.
“I feel lighter. Clear…er? Is it clearer or more clear? Whatever. I think I also just figured out how I want to finish that article on The Wayne Foundation,” he explains, leaning back so he is lying on his back with his head on your lap. “Is this ok? Your lap looked so comfortable,” he wonders aloud, looking up at you.
That’s when you realize three fundamental truths at the same time.
1. Clark is single.
2. Clark is literally in your lap.
3. The crush you have on Clark is swiftly turning into lustful infatuation.
Bringing yourself back to the present, you smile at him and say, “Yeah, of course it’s ok.” You focus on the heat radiating from your best friend as he makes himself comfortable so close to your thirsty pussy.
“You are the best,” he replies, closing his eyes as your hand finds its way into his curls.
“This cool?” you dare, hoping that you can continue to push the boundary between friendship and something more.
As if the groan from the back of his throat wasn’t enough, he voices his satisfaction. “More than cool. I love having my hair played with. Feel free to go to town on me.”
Oh, the importance of phrasing.
This man is not going to make it easy on you.
You’re explaining to Clark about that episode of Bob’s Burgers where Bob and Linda accidentally get high after eating cookies laced with marijuana at their accountant’s office. “So, anyway. Bob, Linda, and the accountant build a pillow fort from the cushions on his couch, and somehow it makes them feel safer which I get because pillow forts were the height of safety when we were kids. And sometimes, people feel safer thinking about the simplicity of their childhood,” you rattle on, leaning forward to grab your water bottle and forgetting about Clark’s head, which is still very much in your lap.
An oomph is spoken into your boobs, and you shoot straight up to a standing position and knock Clark off your lap and onto the floor.
“Shit!” he cries from his spot on the floor.
“Fuck, Clark! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” You cringe, your hand touching your forehead as you watch him pull himself up.
“Hey, hey. It’s cool, I’m fine,” he reassures, his hand grabbing yours to take it away from your face. With the other hand, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head up, he smiles and counters, “Are you ok?”
Yeah. Fine. My tits were just thrust into your face for a bit there. Oh, and you have no idea that I like you. And that pesky curl is falling into your pretty eyes again. And your handsome face is close enough to-
One second, you’re staring at his smile; the next second, you’re attacking his mouth with yours. His lips are just as pillowy and soft as they look. At first, the kiss is timid. Surprise gives way to need as he deepens the kiss. His tongue seeks solace as it slides against the seam of your lips. Granting him entry, he licks into your mouth like an explorer discovering new lands.
His hands find their way to your hips, bringing you impossibly close. He feasts on every whimper that leaves you, peppering in some moans of his own. This is the kiss of a man waiting for a moment like this. At least, that’s how it feels.
Begrudgingly, you slowly break away from Clark. His kiss-swollen pink lips beg to be reunited with yours, but you must prove this is real. You look up into his dilated eyes, noting how blue is almost completely taken over by black.
You open your mouth to speak, but Clark beats you to it.
“Unless you are about to tell me you don’t want this, please just kiss me again,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what’s more intoxicating. This drug or having you so close to me.”
Instead of worrying about what this means, you throw caution to the wind. Tilting your head, you slot your lips with his, devouring the subtle whimper that escapes him. From nervous to commanding, you feel Clark’s demeanor change as his hands wander over your body.
He picks you up by the waist, your legs instinctually wrapping around him. With you in his arms, he walks blindly to your bedroom. Once he lays you down, he covers your body with his. The hard length against your mound gives you pause, but you quickly recover as you angle your hips to meet his.
Clark breaks the kiss to sit up and remove his pullover and shirt. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he watches you scan his torso while you bite your lip. Leaning down, he tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting you to get rid of it.
You oblige, now topless in front of your best friend for the first time. You don’t have time to freak out over that information because Clark hooks his fingers in your leggings, his eyes begging for permission. You raise your hips, and he pulls them down your legs along with your underwear.
You sit up as he chucks his sweatpants, his heavy erection now visible. Your first thought is, “Now that is a pretty dick.”
“Thank you,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You wonder aloud, already knowing the answer.
Clark smiles, nodding at you before coaxing you to lay back. He sinks between your legs, holding them open to kiss your thighs. He teases you a bit, licking and nipping at your mound and outer labia until you wiggle your hips and whine.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Patience, please,” he cautions, shaking his head at you. He winks at you, diving fully into your snatch and sucking your clit between his lips.
You throw your head back in ecstasy as his tongue slides over your swollen button. Humming while sucking on your nub is a fucking power move, and your hands tangle in his hair. You dig your heels into his back as he laps up the juices that accumulate at your entrance. Looking down at him as he worships at the altar of your body, you are taken aback as he peeks up at you over your mound.
With your eyes locked on each other, he watches as he tips you right over the edge. He groans into your pussy, his mouth and chin soaked, as your walls contract around nothing. The euphoria of being high mixes with the joy of being with someone new for the first time.
But this isn’t just anybody; this was your best friend. Warmth and comfort exist between you, allowing you to feel safe enough to fall and that Clark will catch you.
You come down as he plants a kiss on your mound, grazing his lips up your tummy. When he is back above your face, he runs the tip of his dick across your wet folds. He maintains eye contact while he slides in for the first time.
Once he is fully seated inside you, he lets you adjust to his size before he withdraws slightly and thrusts forward. The wet squelch of your pussy and the smack of your bodies against one another are music to your ears. Clark’s grunts as he fucks into you only fuel your impending second climax.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Not going to last long,” he warns, sitting up on his knees as his hands go to your waist. Throwing his head back, he growls and picks up the pace, using your body like his personal fucktoy.
Your back arches as he repeatedly hits that hidden bundle of nerves. A searing fire erupts in your belly as your cunt clamps down on his dick, spasming and coating it with your cream.
“Good girl! That’s it. Fucking come for me, just like that,” he encourages. “Oh, shit. I’m right fucking behind you. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck.”
You lock your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he is as his dick spasms and fills you to the brim. Your hands smooth down his big chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he comes down from what is probably the most intense orgasm he has ever felt. He stills soon enough, breathing back to normal as his softening length slips from you.
Flopping down next to you, Clark wraps an arm around you. You curl into his side, an arm across his stomach, and a leg thrown over his. Contented silence fills the room as you both take in this unforeseen turn of events.
Clark’s hand makes idle patterns on your back as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You close your eyes for only a moment, missing Clark smiling at you. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your head, causing you to tilt your head to meet his eyes.
“You hungry?” you guess, feeling a bit peckish yourself.
“Yes!” he exclaims.
“Good. I know a great place down the street that makes the best samosas. Does Indian food sound good?” you ask, already tasting the rich spices of the food.
“Sounds perfect,” he says, picking up his arm to let you get up from the bed to grab your phone, watching your hips sway as you walk out to the other room.
Once back in bed, you order various dishes for the both of you. While you wait for the food, you pass a joint back and forth and steal a kiss or two. You decide there is plenty of time for you and Clark to talk. There is no use in killing the vibe for heavy stuff.
With the way Clark is looking at you, there’s not much to talk about anyway.
🍃The End🍃
A/N: I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!
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