#i’m only on chapter 4 and i’m waiting to see him again <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jk97 · 9 months ago

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Unprofessional Attraction | TWO

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

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I meant everything I said, yes.”

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

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

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

It begins easily enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love that, actually.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me, are you calling me old?”

“Possibly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your face is red. Was it too salty?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you comfortable if I kiss you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, maybe I should.”

That night, Yunho learns several things about you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

“YOU WHAT?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry! It was just—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope so, Yeo. I really do.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you for understanding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please and thank you.”

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

Sorry, I’m not single.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Y/N: 1 image]

[Y/N: Matchingg with my besssttieee]

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

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

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

[Y/N: 1 invisible ink image]

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

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

[Yunho: 1 invisible ink image]

[Yunho: only if you let me reciprocate after]

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It started off innocent, it really did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really want to know that badly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me a second.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got a minute?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Yunho: pls]

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

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

“Mr. Jeong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But… Right now? Here?”

“If you’re comfortable,” he adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you deserve to cum too—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is where his selfishness comes in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brows furrow, “Jealous?”

His confusion is expected, as you’re sure he hasn’t paid attention to much of the interruptions you’ve experienced while with him the last few weeks on campus. It’s not simply Wooyoung either, but everyone who gets his attention on campus when you have to stay away for one reason or another. The way other women on campus look at him or speak to him, unaware that he’s already devoting his attention to you. It eats at you a bit sometimes.

Yunho may be greedy but you’re much greedier, as if that wasn’t evident enough by the things you did to attract him in the first place. Even then, he’s never failed to oblige any of your requests, whether that be with his endearment, his time, or his… assets. He deserves everything in the world, and you can’t wait to give that to him when the time arrives. For now, you’ll behave to the best of your abilities.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just rambling,” you deflect, “Seeing you in your element is just nice, that’s all.”

Yunho’s curious about what’s going on in your mind but he decides not to pursue further answers.

“So, what do I have the pleasure of helping you with today?”

The apples of his cheeks are even more prominent today as he smiles while asking this. You know he loves his job, but you’re sure he doesn’t get this much glee during office hours with anyone else.

“Last session at your house we talked about my analysis section and I remember you telling me that I was overthinking, but I’m still second-guessing myself on some of my points. I guess I just need to run some things by you to be one hundred percent sure I’m in a good direction.”

“You’re almost as bad as me,” he declares. As the self-proclaimed King of Overthinking, he’s the only person allowed to say such a thing to you. Still, it makes you pout.

“To be fair, we both know this is not my best subject, so this final might be more important to me than any of my others,” you confess. This is partially true; a small part of you wants to impress your handsome linguist by showing him a final product worth reading.

“You know I’d take care of things regardless, right? You don’t have to stress about that.”

“I appreciate that, but I want to earn this grade genuinely,” you clarify. He lets you know he understands, but you want some extra reassurance when you say, “Promise me you’ll grade me genuinely, okay?”

“I get it. I promise pretty lady,” he guarantees you with a soft, affectionate smile. “I know I tell you all the time in the most inappropriate scenarios… but I mean it when I say you’re a smart woman. I know you’ll do fine.”

If he could see you right now, Yeosang would surely be laughing at you for being such a lover-girl and telling you that you’re an absolute idiot for passing up an automatic A+ on your final, but you never genuinely pursued Yunho for that kind of leverage anyway, regardless of the initial jokes. This was something you genuinely hoped Yunho was aware of when it came to communicating your feelings.

As always, he takes all the time you need to help you with a list of things you want a second opinion on, sources you want to make sure are up to par, and everything in between. He thinks it’s cute when you pull out your little checklist named “Things To Ask Yu”, and diligently check each off as they’re completed.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips the moment you check off the final thing on the list. You both meet eyes for a brief moment, and the look donning his face is something oozing with pure adoration. You hold his gaze for what feels like forever before glancing at your watch. You’re making good time, it’s been almost an hour.

“When you look at me like that, it makes me want to throw away all my responsibilities and stay here all day,” you mumble.

He lets out an airy chuckle, “Am I keeping you from anything in particular?”

“I do have a class in about half an hour.”

He stretches his arms over his head with a grunt, “Sounds like we should end things for the day and meet here again in a couple of days then, Miss Nostalgia.”

“Well…” You trail off as you stand to your feet and make your way to the office door.

Yunho watches your fingers lock his door before you stroll back over to his side of the desk. Something stirs in his gut as he looks up into your eyes when you finally reach him, calculating the way you gaze back at him playfully. The small mischievous smirk playing on your lips… God, he just knows he’s in trouble. He turns his attention toward his laptop when you sit yourself on top of his desk right beside him.

“Well?”

“Remember how I said I would take care of you at another time?” The feeling of the edge of his desk sinking into your thighs elicits a soft sigh while you recount that day, as if him eating you out like a Christmas dinner wasn’t already ingrained into your mind. “This seems like a moment where that would be fitting.”

“Do you remember where we are?” He mimics your statement the last time you were both intimate in his office, in the same cadence and everything. His fingers delicately click at his mouse as he tries to think of anything else other than your thighs peeking out of that pleated skirt you’re wearing, directly next to his hand.

“If I remember correctly, that didn’t matter last time…”

“The circumstances were very different,” he immediately counters.

It’s true, to an extent; the timing was more on par for solitude. Regardless, he knows he sounds like the biggest hypocrite at the moment, even more evident by the roll of your eyes he catches out of the corner of his. He leans back in his chair and runs his hands through his hair. Sometimes he wishes he was more adventurous, less concerned about the consequences, and more accepting of the thrill of things. When he’s thinking of these things, it’s not even for his sake, but yours. He can’t handle the thought of you losing your degree due to his selfishness. And yet, he can’t help the arousal building from those thoughts about your mischievous side. You’re able to pull that side out of him so easily.

“And yet, you’re hard,” you say quietly when your eyes fall to his ever-so-inviting lap, a blithe little chuckle following. Subconsciously, he covers himself over his slacks. “Are you scared of getting caught even with the door locked?”

“____, it's 2 PM and we're in my office with many people passing by every minute. Not to mention my other students who could request me at literally any time,” he explains with a flustered smile, “This is immensely risky, you know that very well.”

“But–”

“You also know very well I’m extremely bad at being that quiet with you,” he interrupts your attempt to plead your case. Only then does he roll his head to the side and give you this look with low hooded eyes that finally make you glance away. His sentiments make goosebumps lace your skin because— fuck —yes you know he didn’t like being quiet. That was honestly an understatement. The heaving, moaning, and endless praise were only the start of what you could pull from the man during your escapades.

You ponder for a brief moment, contemplating just letting it go, but end up pursing your lips and resorting to those famous eyes you give Yeosang when you want something unattainable.

“Please Yu, just let me give you a good blowjob. It'll be quick and quiet, I promise.”

He just can’t say no when you look at him like that, so he sighs, “I guess…”

“I also have an idea.”

Yunho is not sure what he initially expected when those words came out of your mouth, but surely it didn’t include the way your hands slip under your skirt and tug your panties down your legs. He’s sure his entire face is a deep shade of scarlet when you hold them out for him. It doesn’t help that they're visibly wet.

“Maybe this can help you stay quiet, you know?” You suggest this while motioning to your face. He understands, of course, but he feels like this will just make things worse. So much worse. It’s confirmed when he feels his pants tighten from merely holding them in his hands. Still, he agrees and nervously pushes his chair back. After sinking under the desk, Yunho pulls his chair forward with enough room for you to sit on your knees comfortably. At least there was no way you would be seen if something strange were to arise.

Undoing his belt is one of your favorite parts, the anticipation visible in his ansty hands when he doesn’t know where to put them while you work it off. Your fingers tug lightly at his pants zipper before you dip your fingers past the hem of his waistband and pull them down quietly. He makes sure to lift his hips a little for you to slip them past just enough. You take one glance at his slightly flustered face before you pull his length from out the hole of his boxer briefs. It’s so hard that it hurts, leaking a copious amount of precum and making quite a mess.

“There are people outside the door,” he voices his nerves again at the last minute, peering at the shadows of feet passing the door, and then back down at you.

“Didn’t know you had such an exhibitionist kink then,” you poke fun at him in a whisper, noticing how much he’s twitching once the words leave his lips. A teasing laugh slips from your lips and he groans in frustration, his empty hand moving to cock to stroke himself lazily.

“I do not have an exhibitionist kink,” Yunho snaps back with a huff. His cheeks are so flushed with chagrin, and it amuses you because if he really was that scared, he’d simply tell you no. He’d turn you away with that stern voice he rarely uses and suggest a different place and time. But Yunho wants this as much as you want it, despite what his mouth may say in the meantime.

“Ready?” You remove his hand and let a long string of saliva fall from your tongue onto his tip, just enough for lubrication. Then, you place your hands around his shaft and start stroking him yourself, mixing the spit with his dribble of precum. “You seem pretty turned on by the idea of being caught, Yu.”

The endless string of soft gasps and strangled noises of air coming from him as you work your hands on him just the way he likes is enough to drive your pride up the wall. There was always something different about how you touched him that he’d never be able to fulfill himself. He’s indubitably addicted to you.

"Shit, ___–”

“Shhhh. Unless you’d prefer to get caught?” You quirk a brow curiously as you increase pressure on him so he can’t supply an answer. Instead, he kicks his head back and lets out a soft, satisfied moan that sounds similar to your name. You follow that with a tsk! and shake your head disapprovingly. “My mouth hasn’t even touched you and you’re already a mess.”

He lowers his eyes to meet yours with a pointed glare and a chill runs down your spine, “Taking your sweet time is not helping.”

You go to taunt him again but can't even finish the first word before his free hand rakes through your hair and pushes your open mouth down on his cock instead. Yunho twitches and throbs under you with a low, constricted grunt while you clutch his thighs with your nails. He’s in love with the way you look up at him so innocently, your plush lips wrapped around his length and tears prodding the corners of your eyes at the sudden intrusion. It amazes him how you’re still able to smile, eyes half-lidded as if he had just blessed your mouth.

“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself… Can I?” He sighs out, implying letting him use your mouth as he sees fit.

The hum you release around his length and the way you relax your jaw confirm his request. Yunho holds you gently on either side of your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks tenderly before guiding you up and down his cock at a leisurely speed. Occasionally, he accidentally prods at the back of your throat and elicits a choked moan. He whispers his apologies each time even though he has nothing to be sorry about, but it’s just a habit. He winds his hand in your hair and pulls his cock out a bit to focus your mouth on his tip, bucking his hips in short, hasty thrusts and reveling in the way it draws sloppy noises from your mouth while you seal your lips around his tip to keep from making things too messy. The panties pressed to his face with his other hand aren’t doing much to repress those grunts that come from deep within his chest.

“Feels so good,” he pants softly from under the fabric, lips fixing to whimper, “Am I going too fast?”

You moan around his length once more, shaking your head and blinking away any remaining dampness from your lashes.

“If it’s ever too much, tell me to stop and I'll stop,” he insists affectionately, but those dark brown eyes are fixated on yours with blown-out irises and deep carnal cravings.

He can’t expect you to ever want him to stop when he looks like that, right? Of course not. You take everything he gives you like the good girl he already knows you are, the sounds of your squelchy throat filling the silence and bouncing off the walls of his office. As much as you try to keep things clean, you can’t help the flood of saliva dripping onto his underwear the faster he fucks into your mouth. You can tell his orgasm is growing closer and closer by the way his thighs start trembling.

And even though Yunho thinks he hears a sound closer to his office door than his comfort would allow, he continues his pace. Your eyes are closed, focused solely on breathing, so you aren’t aware of the way his attention is elsewhere. His eyes stayed trained on the silhouette of feet at the bottom of the door’s threshold, and there’s a fleeting thought of whether he should stop. That thought is overwritten with pure lust, spurred on by the way you reach up and begin to massage his balls the best you can from your position. Yunho bites down on your panties, muffling the whine bubbling from his chest. A moment later, your panties fall from his mouth and his hips lose all rhythm.

“Fuck ____– cumming,” he groans a little too loudly, but his head is somewhere deep in outer space, brain screaming at him for release, “Where?”

You open your mouth just the slightest bit wider to emphasize that you want him to cum down your throat. Yunho halts his hips altogether and you feel his cock throb in your mouth as he finally releases everything he has to offer. He’s no longer concerned with who may or may not be lurking at the door; the only thing he can focus on is the way you lock eyes with him while swallowing his essence and sucking him clean after the fact. Nothing else matters at this moment but you.

Friday’s class ends earlier than normal when Yunho gets through his lecture for the period faster than expected.

“I need you to help me dye my hair soon if you have some time,” Yeosang says the moment people begin to stand and leave. You glance over to find him grimacing while looking into the camera of his phone, “I think I need to go back to pink or something, the brown is just not doing it for me.”

“I knew it wouldn’t last long,” you snort while filling up your backpack, “You’re just not used to having natural colors anymore.”

“I can’t even argue with that, my love.”

You ruffle a hand through his tresses before he finally stands to his feet, and you follow suit. Then, you toss a couple of things around in your mind about your schedule as you both walk down the lecture hall stairs before suggesting, “Actually, you could come over tonight if you already have the supplies.”

“Fuck, you’re the best. I’ll bring dinner too?”

Before you can even answer, a voice calls your name and steals your attention. Surprisingly, it’s Wooyoung of all people approaching you both. You can’t even hide the disinterest you feel in acknowledging him, it’s written all over your face.

“Do you mind if I speak with you privately for a moment?” he inquires, motioning towards his chair.

Yeosang meets your eyes inquisitively before stepping away and telling you he’ll meet up with you later. The class has emptied when you both venture over to Wooyoung’s seat, and he begins searching through his bag for something in particular.

“Is there an issue with something I submitted?”

“Not necessarily,” he replies. “I suppose I just want some insight.”

He pulls out the notebook he uses for tracking grades in this class and places it on the table. People always find it a bit weird that he prefers to do things by hand first before electronically and, sure it might be more work than necessary, but he prefers to have both methods.

“I’m a pretty meticulous person, ____. I noticed that there’s a discrepancy in the grades for last week’s short essay assignment,” Wooyoung begins in a honeyed voice, “Though, the only discrepancy was on yours.”

“I’m not sure why you’re coming to me about this when Mr. Jeong handles things like this,” you respond indifferently. “I would ask him about the mistake.”

Wooyoung smiles and leans forward on his elbows, “That’s the funny thing, I did. He told me that he had made the change himself and not to worry about it. No other explanations.”

“Well again, he’s the teacher, so it sounds pretty open and shut then.”

“It’s never that simple, ____. I looked back and noticed this has happened a few times throughout the last month, actually.”

“If you’re just going to keep badgering me about grade changes I have nothing to do with then I’m gonna end this conversation here.” To be honest with yourself, there’s a part of you deep down that’s cursing profusely at Yunho for messing with your grades, and so openly at that. This is something you had explicitly made clear you didn’t need or want, but he had done it anyway. This is something you would have to chastise him about later in a very serious conversation. That’s the only concern on your mind as you start taking steps toward the doors and wave with a flick of your wrist, “Anyways, I’ve gotta go. I have other obligations for the day.”

“You mean like sucking off your teacher again?”

You cease all movement and turn back towards him, “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, that came out a little blunt, didn’t it?” He holds his hands up in remission. “It’s just not hard to put two and two together when your ear is pressed to a door and all you hear is choking, you know?”

“I have no clue what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’m offended you think I’d need that to pass a class anyway,” you reply indignantly. Still, there’s this slight feeling of panic pooling in your stomach.

Wooyoung gives you a knowing look, “You’re going to play stupid, really?”

“Look, I really don’t have the time for this—”

“I suppose we could ask the Dean what she thinks about things then? He said your name quite a few times, luckily,” Wooyoung interrupts you and suggests instead. His eyes flicker down to his phone and a pure look of fear at the thought that he possibly has a recording of you and Yunho’s depravity slates your face. “Oh, that got your attention.”

His laugh that follows that statement hits you right in your gut.

“My God, you’re an absolute asshole,” you seethe, but stop yourself before you can say anything worse. You’re well aware that being mean won’t get you on his good side. Instead, you calm yourself and rub your temples before asking, “What do you want to keep quiet, money? I don’t have much to offer but I can figure something out.”

“Listen, ____,” he says as he leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together, “I have a simple proposition that could make all of this just disappear.”

“Spit it out already then.”

“I want you to pretend we’re together for a little bit, publicly. Just enough time to make my ex want me back. Then, we can call it quits and go about our lives as if none of this happened.”

You can’t help the scoff that comes out of you, “You want me to fake date you to make your ex jealous, or else you’re going to essentially ruin my life. Is that what I’m hearing?”

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound evil,” Wooyoung points out with a hefty sigh. He slumps in his seat, “I’m not an evil guy, I would just like some help. That’s all. And you’re just not really in a position to say no, unlike others I’ve asked.”

“There’s a reason why those people said no, obviously,” you retort bitterly. He lets your sharp words roll off his back and simply smiles; there’s nothing you could say that would help your position and he knows this. It’s mid-November and graduation is in approximately a month. Surely it shouldn’t take that long for this plan of Wooyoung’s to finish, he knows this. The thought of it going on longer than necessary makes you feel physically ill though. Not to mention what Yunho would think about you having to interact with Wooyoung intimately.

“I want to make something clear as well,” he begins as if he’s forgotten this himself, “You cannot tell any of this to Mr. Jeong either. I don’t want my money for my assistant position to be compromised, obviously.”

Your brain begins to short-circuit at the thought of having to date Wooyoung openly without Yunho being aware it’s fake. The logistics in itself would cause you immense stress that you surely don’t need while closing out the end of your semester. You should very well be focusing on graduating and nothing more. Nonetheless, the last thing you want is for Yunho to lose his job because you couldn’t keep your mouth to yourself when he was already concerned about being caught that day. You don’t even care about the consequences for yourself, you’d feel immense guilt forever for ruining Yunho’s career and reputation. But, if Yunho heard that you were dating his TA, he’d surely break things off with you anyway. That thought scared you even more.

“So, would you like to exchange numbers?”

Halting your panic-stricken daze is Wooyoung’s hand surrendering his phone to you, a blank contact screen ever-so-inviting. You feel defeated, and you know this is going to end up turning out poorly, but you just can’t risk Yunho losing his job over you. When your anxious fingers snatch his phone and begin typing your information, Wooyoung sighs in contentment.

♡ taglist: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr @txt-yaomi @thisisntmyrightera @oreoqueen @jadeneliz @atinism @uarmytess @nopension @aaaaajonghooooo @tmtxtf @ateezallday @bloomyroses @shingene @likexaxdaydream @innsomniacshinestar @st4rhwa @eixila @sunflower-png @jadeneliz @witchlaughwoo @ashlurrr @justthattheatregirl @bts-army380

I apologize if I missed anyone! Thank you for reading ◡̈

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vettelsvee · 3 months ago

Text

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 4: FAMILIAR [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 3811

summary: seb comes back home as a surprise only to see that hanna and a little mysterious girl receive them... instead of y/n, who was supposed to finally meet him

warnings: settled on may 2018. curse words, angst, seb and little emily meeting but they don't know who they are to each other, seb being VERY suspicious. seb pov.

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: i haven't said anything, BUT taylor made a mashup for her surprise songs in warsaw night 2 that is an absolute spoiler of this series (if you know it TELL ME ON ANON BECAUSE I LITERALLY SCREAMED). anyways, we're back with an update FINALLY. sorry to make you wait (really, i wasn't doing mentally ok and I'm still struggling but here we are!), but in the next chapter we'll have y/n and seb finally meeting... but for the moments I'll wait to see your comments, anon messages and reactions (please please please) about everything that happens on this chapter and how suspicious seb's gonna be (hope you fangirl and like everything as much as i did writing this) + also remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated. thank you for all the support you've been showing me these days, love you all <3

2018

May 3rd Heppenheim, Germany

Sebastian

The exhaustion was piling up in my body, and I knew that what I was doing was crazy. I was fully aware that facing my past with just two hours of sleep was quite risky, but I couldn't wait to see Y/N again. As soon as Hanna told me she had spoken to her and gave me the green light to visit her, I forced Britta to buy me a plane ticket to Cologne to head home as soon as I finished some Ferrari ads and all that shit I absolutely hated in Maranello. My excitement and nerves were so intense that I didn't even tell anything to my parents or Fabian, who would probably go crazy for not telling them earlier.

I let go of the suitcase reluctantly and, to my misfortune, it fell to the floor with a rather noticeable thud. I sighed and did my best to ignore it, ringing the doorbell and leaning against the wall while holding the bouquet of tulips I had bought for Y/N. I knew it was silly, but I was excited to have this small gesture as a sort of belated birthday gift for her.

"Who is it?"

I was notably surprised when, instead of my mother’s voice, a child’s one chirped the question.

"It’s Seb," I replied, trying not to make a big deal out of the situation. Maybe it was just the daughter, or even granddaughter, of one of my mother’s friends.

"I don’t know any Seb! Who is it?" she asked again, this time with a slightly annoyed tone.

"I’m Sebastian."

"Sorry, but I only know two Sebastians: one is the crab from The Little Mermaid, and the other one is the man who sometimes appears on TV at Grandma’s house."

I couldn’t help but laugh. Whoever that little girl was, she was the best thing I had come across in a long time.

"Mum also says I can’t open the door to strangers, so I can’t let you in. I’m sorry, sir."

"But my parents live here," I replied as calmly as I could. It was clear that the lack of sleep was affecting my patience.

"Are you Mr. Norbert’s secret son?!"

"Emily, let me open the door!"

The door suddenly opened, revealing a somewhat out-of-breath Hanna, as if she had come running to open it and was now trying to catch her breath. Next to her was a girl about five years old, with completely blonde and curly hair that reached roughly to her waist. The little one didn’t hesitate to smile and greet me with her right hand, and almost immediately, her eyes widened as she made eye contact with me. When I turned my gaze back to my friend I was quite surprised. Her skin, which was already pale, had turned even paler for no apparent reason. The girl, however, kept looking at me, curious and, in my perception, somewhat pleased.

Had Hanna become a mother and didn’t tell me?

Before I could react or say anything, the door slammed shut in my face, not giving me a chance to say anything. My surprise came when, a few seconds later, it opened again, revealing the same scene.

“You’re…” she started to say, hesitating. She was nervous, and her nerves only made me more anxious. “Seb… but not…”

“Is something wrong, Hanna?”

Instead of answering, she remained completely silent. I knew something was wrong as soon as she started to look at the ground instead of looking at me.

“Hanna?”

“Aunt Hanna…” the little girl, still by her side, intervened, trying to get her attention by tugging at her sweater sleeve. “The man who appears on TV with the red car is talking to you,” I widened my eyes, surprised. Did the girl know me? “Mom says that when someone talks to you, you should respond; it’s rude not to.”

“Do you know who I am?” I asked the little girl, crouching to her level.

“Of course I know you…!”

“Hey, sweetie, why don’t you go play outside for a while?” My friend intervened before the little girl could finish. “Sebastian and I need to talk about some things, okay?”

“Did mommy have a surprise for me and that’s why she brought him?” the girl asked curiously, pointing at me. “Mommy said she was going to bring me a surprise when she came back from…”

“Emily, that’s enough! Go outside and we’ll talk about mom's surprise later. We can even call her if you want, okay?”

Prater’s shout startled the girl, who simply picked up a stuffed panda from the couch and a red car that looked quite similar to the one I had in Formula 1 back in 2015. As soon as Hanna turned back to her, scolding her once more, she ran towards the yard.

I found it amusing that, when my friend turned back to me, that curly-haired blonde girl peeked around the door, trying not to let us see her, possibly feeling quite curious about what we had to discuss.

It didn’t bother me at all, but exactly the opposite. I used to do the same when I was a child and my parents had friends coming home.

“Are you here or not, Sebastian?”

Hanna quickly brushed her hand over my face. I immediately shifted my gaze from the little girl and refocused on her. She had her arms crossed, her sweater sleeves rolled up, and her face was completely red.

I wasn’t sure if she was angry with little Emily, with me, or with the situation, though she had no reason to be. After all, I was the one who had come to my parents’ house, my home, to get ready to see Y/N. It wasn’t my problem that I had encountered Hanna and this mysterious girl here, without any prior notice. At least, I didn’t see it as such.

“I’ve been here since I arrived, Hanna. You’re the one who’s gone crazy seeing me show up,” I responded tersely.

“You could have told me that you were coming.”

“Do I need to give an exact day for when I’ll be back home? Can’t I give my parents a fucking surprise?”

“Didn’t you consider that your parents might be running errands at this time? Or that…”

I left her talking to herself because the last thing I wanted was to argue, especially over something trivial like this. Her behavior was stressing me out too much, and that was the last thing I needed, especially considering that my ex and I might run into each other at any moment.

Without saying anything else, I headed to the kitchen to find a vase for the tulips for Y/N before they wilted. While filling it with water, I noticed the little girl. She was engrossed with that red toy car, moving it back and forth while murmuring commands with what seemed to be an attempt of technical Formula 1 words. She pushed her curls out of her face and suddenly decided to include the panda bear in the game.

I stared at the girl. Her face seemed familiar… too familiar, in fact. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I had a feeling I had seen her before in Heppenheim, though I didn’t remember seeing her as part of any family of my parents’ friends.

I tried to downplay the fleeting thought when Hanna arrived, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and, as I had guessed upon looking back, with a rather unfriendly expression.

Her eyes were analyzing me, I knew it perfectly. I sighed and placed the vase on the counter, arranging the tulips as best as I could while trying to ignore her behavior.

"Are they for Y/N?" she finally asked.

"Who else would they be for?"

"She isn’t here," she said abruptly, dropping the news.

Silence fell between us once again. I raised my gaze so quickly that I almost felt a bit dizzy. All she did was look at me, unable to continue the conversation or, at least, undecided on whether to continue it or not. Finally, after a few seconds, she decided to speak again:

"I know I told you she’d be here this week, but…" she hesitated. It was the first time I had seen her like this, and she was by no means the self-assured Hanna I had known since the first day of school. “Damn it, Seb, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but…”

"Does she have a boyfriend?"

That was the first thing that came to mind, and I immediately regretted blurting it out. Hanna laughed so hard that Emily, who was now chasing a butterfly, stopped dead in her tracks to see what was happening to her supposed aunt.

Hanna approached me. She gave me a few pats on the chest and then on the head, before giving me a hug that caught me off guard.

"How naive you are, Sebastian Vettel… Do you really think Y/N would have a boyfriend? Can you picture her having one?"

"Well, it's been five years since she broke up with me. It's about time she moved on, so I find it normal."

"Have you moved on? Do you have some secret girlfriend you haven’t told us about, Mr. Privacy?"

I didn’t answer, which was enough for her to know we were in the same romantic situation.

"I've slept with a few girls all these years, but I’ve never looked for anything serious," I confessed.

"Well, I’m afraid to tell you that you’re in the same boat as Y/N then. As far as I know, she hasn’t slept with anyone, although it’s understandable, considering she has…”

And before she could say anything more, she stopped talking. Again.

If the situation between us had calmed down, it had now become tense again. It was the second time that day, at least as far as I had noticed, that Hanna Prater seemed to have let something slip. I looked at her, searching her expressions for something that would give me a hint about what she wanted to say; she simply looked away and headed to the living room, sitting on the sofa and changing the channel from some cartoon pigs to the local Heppenheim news channel.

"What does Y/N have, Hanna? Or who does she have?"

"Y/N is in London, Seb," she finally revealed with a sigh, as if it was hard for her to tell me. “I know it’s not my place to tell you this, and even less that she would like you to know, but after your breakup… she has some contacts.”

"What kind of contacts are you talking about?" I wanted to know. Had she done something I wasn’t aware of? Was she in trouble?

"To say it briefly, because the story is too long, a guy from this very famous boyband back in the day decided to come here for a while to find inspiration for new music and see what to do with his solo career," she explained. “Call it coincidence, luck or an act of God, but Niall ended up going to the bar where Y/N works and, well… the rest is history.”

I didn’t know what to say… Yes, I hoped things were going a bit better for her than when we were together, but that she had met someone as important as that guy seemed…

"The thing is, Y/N is in London right now. But she’ll be back, so don’t worry. She’s been there for several days," Hanna continued. "Niall isn’t particularly good at keeping secrets, and since he knew she was the face behind Red, he had the bright idea of mentioning it to his label who, luckily, said they’d like to meet with Y/N to offer her a contract."

"And did you know any of this before telling me to come, or…?"

I tried not to sound angry, but the truth was I was, at least a little. To be more exact, I was more than just angry… I was upset. Upset simply because Y/N, knowing I had asked if she was the face behind that viral video that was having so much success, and now considering that she had a possibly important meeting with that record label, hadn’t bothered to respond not only to my question but also to my birthday wishes.

I felt really bad because, despite being the person who probably knew y/n better than anyone else in the world, it seemed like the opposite.

"Y/N didn’t tell me anything until the day before she left," she confessed quietly. "I swear, Seb, she was so reluctant to go that I even thought she wouldn’t go and you two would finally get to talk about everything…” Once again, a pause full of uncertainty gnawed at me from within. “The only thing she said to me before going to London was that she wasn’t going to sign anything and that she was going only because she hadn’t traveled since you two were together, and she actually was doing that because she needed to disconnect and think about a few things.”

"So… did she go for nothing?"

"She doesn’t want to sign any record deal, Seb. She just wants to put her life in order and continue it as it is now. She doesn’t need anything more than what she has."

I didn’t know what to say, but I had a thousand conflicting thoughts swirling in my head right now. It struck me as very strange that my ex-girlfriend didn’t want to accept a record deal. That was everything Y/N had worked for in this life, and now, when she had the opportunity, she was turning it down…

Maybe Britta was right and the Y/N I knew was now just a mere ghost of my past, still haunting my life to torment me with the answers I never got.

"Y/N should accept it," was all I could say, impassive to what my ears had just heard. "I can’t believe she’d turn down something she’s fought for so many years…”

Suddenly, a melody from a song I didn’t recognize started playing in the room. Emily appeared with a phone in her hand and ran to give it to Hanna who, upon looking at the screen, became quite alarmed.

"Sorry, Seb, it’s important…" she said without taking her eyes off the phone. "Emily, stay here with Seb, okay? I’ll be right back…”

Hanna left faster than I would have liked, leaving me alone with the little girl, who again kept staring at me.

"You’re just like on TV..."

The little blonde girl came up to me, too close, and began examining me closely. She placed her small hands on my cheeks and moved them across my face. I was sure she was leaving little traces of dirt, but I didn’t mind when I saw she couldn’t stop smiling and laughing.

"If my mommy were here, she’d be very happy to see you," she said, sitting next to me.

"Does your mom know who I am?"

She nodded.

"Mommy watches you on TV every day," she revealed. "Well, not every day, but when you’re on granny’s TV on weekends, she spends hours and hours watching you at your work!"

"So your mom likes Formula 1, huh?"

"What’s that?" she asked innocently. However, before I could say anything, she spoke again. "Oh, I remember now! That’s what’s on TV where the cars go really fast, right? And you drive one of them, don’t you?"

I nodded slightly while laughing.

"Mommy says it’s very dangerous and sometimes she’s scared about what might happen to you. Mommy really likes you a lot, you know? Why don’t you go out with her and be my daddy?"

"Sometimes it is a bit dangerous, yes, but don’t worry: today there are many safety measures to keep us safe, and we also take a lot of care when we drive,” I said quietly, trying to sound as calm as possible and ignoring her last request. Did this girl not have a present father?

The girl frowned, not very convinced by my answer and, possibly, upset by ignoring part of what she was surely eager to know. Her eyes, a shade of blue that was neither dark nor light, looked at me with curiosity.

"Have you ever hurt yourself while driving your red car?" she asked again, interested.

"Well, um…" I hesitated for a moment on what words to choose so as not to alarm her further. "Sometimes we have small bumps, but the barriers on the track protect us when we go off."

Emily seemed more at ease with the softened version of reality, although she still looked worried and upset. I didn’t know why I was telling her all this considering she was probably no older than five and I might be scaring her.

"Hey, now tell me something about you, since I’m on holidays and I don’t want to talk about my work! What do you like to do? I don’t know anything about you yet!"

Her eyes lit up when I asked her that. My main intention was to change the subject, but something inside me was glad to see her so happy when I showed some kind of interest in her.

"I love to paint and play!" she exclaimed. "I also like going to the park with mummy, dancing and singing at her work! And I also like tales!"

"What’s your favorite tale?"

“Mommy always tells me one about a prince who is part of a blue team and takes part in an important game every year, and he always wins! And in the end, he falls in love with a very pretty waitress, and they have a little baby and take care of it together, and they’re very happy!”

I got in absolute shock at her words.

Could it...?

No, it’s impossible, there’s no way that’s some kind of version of my story with Y/N. It must be the exhaustion and all the hustle and bustle of these last few days that are starting to make my head a mess.

I didn’t know what else to say, so while I tried to sort my thoughts, we sat in silence for a while. I changed the channel from the local one to the cartoons that had been on earlier to keep Emily entertained.

The little one didn’t say anything else, but she did snuggle up to me as if she had known me for much more than less than an hour.

When some amount of time had passed, I felt slight tugs on my shirt. I hadn’t realized I had closed my eyes and had dozed off a little. Emily’s little smile brought me back to reality:

“Is something wrong, little one?” I asked, worried that something had happened to her.

“Aunt Hanna is still on the phone, and Peppa Pig is over,” she pointed to the TV with her little hand. “And you probably have to leave soon... Mrs. Heike and Mr. Norbert are coming back any moment now!”

“But this is my house. I’m not going anywhere,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Heike and Norbert are my parents. Do you remember that I told you that before?”

She nodded, relieved and partly remembering that we had talked about it earlier. From her face, I knew she was about to say something more, but I didn’t hear her when I noticed my phone vibrating in my pocket.

I tried to disconnect as much as possible when I was on “vacation,” but given that it could be an important work issue, I decided to check what the notification was about.

To my absolute surprise, it was a message from Y/N:

Hi, Seb.

I’m so sorry for not replying to you earlier. I completely forgot...

I really wanted to, but with one thing and another, it’s been impossible. Hanna has probably talked to you about it, so I won’t say much more so I don’t stress you out more than you probably already are.

I promise that the next time you come, I’ll be there, and we’ll talk about whatever you want.

I think we have quite a few things to discuss about, and I hope you’re not upset with me when that happens.

I read the message more times than I could count, not believing what my eyes were seeing. Relief mixed with confusion at the last sentence. “I think we have quite a bit to discuss, and I hope you’re not upset with me when that happens” didn’t make me think of anything good, especially coming from Y/N.

I took some time to reply, maybe hoping that Hanna, who I saw was coming back into the house, could help me. I started to worry again when I saw a forced smile on her face, as if she was trying to hide something, just as she seemed to have been doing all day.

I started to hear the door lock and then it opening. I knew perfectly by the way of walking that it was my parents, and Emily seemed to know it as well. The little one jumped off the sofa and ran towards them, which surprised me quite a bit.

I only did the same, except I stood up as calmly as I could, with a kind of fear I couldn’t explain.

“You’ve come back home!” the little girl shouted excitedly, bouncing up and down. “Mrs. Heike, Mrs. Heike! Can I ask you something now that your son, the one who drives cars and is very liked by mom, is here?”

My mother looked at the little girl, and then at me. Her face changed completely when she realized that Emily wasn’t lying and that I was, in fact, back home. I didn’t know what Hanna was like at that moment, but I would swear she was more distressed than she had been all day.

Even my father, who normally was a person who didn’t get flustered by anything, seemed quite nervous.

Emily and I, however, seemed to be the only ones who weren’t catching on and were living in our bubble of innocence.

“Does your mommy have a nickname for you, Sebastian?” the little one asked me in a low voice, calling me by my name for the first time. Then she asked me to bend down and carefully placed her hand on my ear to tell me something so that no one would hear. “My mommy says I’m the sunshine of her life, but she always says to me not to tell anyone, that she calling me that way is a secret between us. No one answers me why when I ask them, do you know why?”

318 notes · View notes

penkura · 3 months ago

Text

last forever [13/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed without realizing how happy you would both become and the family you would create together.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and having a baby, that's all

Note: I didn't initially plan this. I was going to stop this fic at twelve chapters, but I felt like ch.12 was getting to be way too long so I broke it up and put the epilogue at the end of thsi one. Do not be surprised if I ever come back to this fanfic universe for one-shots or drabbles. This is shorter than I expected, but I'm happy with how it turned out, thanks for reading this fanfic, I hope you've all enjoyed it! :)

The latter bit is set ten years after chapter 12, Zoro is 31 and Reader is 30.

Taglist:

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7] ● [Ch. 8] ● [Ch. 9] ● [Ch. 10] ● [Ch. 11] ● [Ch. 12]

Your morning is quiet, despite Nami and Robin sharing knowing looks when you and Zoro entered the galley together for breakfast. Nami swears you're glowing and it grosses her out for a moment when she makes the suggestion to Robin who laughs, and says the three of you will need to have a girls night later to talk. No one asked where two had disappeared to the night before, it seemed like none of them had noticed, which you were grateful for. It kept you and Zoro from having to answer any awkward questions for the time being.

Zoro didn't notice or care, if someone had asked he would've told them, but still keep you from feeling embarrassed or anything, this is all still new to both of you of course. Breakfast goes by without anyone bringing anything up, even as Sanji gives you a smile that you return, discreetly showing him your ring and confirming that he was right, everything turned out okay so far.

Most of your day is spent doing the normal things you’ve always done, the Sunny is docked at an island for a restock, you choose to go into town with Robin and Jinbei, Zoro tried to go along but Nami pulls him back, telling you to go ahead while she takes your husband for help with other things. You don’t question it only because that’s completely normal, you don’t even question Robin in town when she tries to convince you to buy a pretty white dress you seem to be staring at. You try it on but don’t buy it, there’s no reason to.

“Are you sure, [Y/N]? It’d look lovely on you, I’m sure Zoro would think so too.”

“Nah, I don’t need it,” you laugh a bit as you go to look at something else that’s caught your eye, “Zoro doesn’t care what I wear anyway.”

“Mm…if you say so.”

You swear there’s something Robin isn’t telling you, even as you both try of different clothes and buy a few items, deciding you’ll bring Nami by later too, there’s plenty here she’ll like.

You do find it odd when Jinbei tries to get you to purchase a flower crown or a small bouquet of your favorite flowers for yourself, denying again that you really don’t need them. You’re not sure if you were imagining it or not, but you think the two share a knowing look with slight smiles as you head back to Sunny a while later.

When you make it back and see almost none of your crewmates around, you start to get suspicious something else is going on, especially seeing the way the ship deck is decorated to almost resemble a wedding, though with its own Straw Hat character, and Zoro waiting for you.

Face red, in a suit (that fits this time), and a bouquet of your favorite flower surrounded by daisies, heliotrope, and aster.

It dons on you immediately what Jinbei and Robin were doing, they were trying to get you ready for an impromptu marriage ceremony, but you didn’t catch on until now, you feel kind of stupid. Of course the white dress and small bouquet make sense now, even though Zoro hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t even notice you’re there at first, not until you say his name and he finally looks at you.

“Hey…you’re back.”

“What,” You’re trying hard not to cry but you can’t fight the smile that’s starting to creep onto your face as Zoro hands the flowers over to you, still nervous about this and maybe embarrassed over it, “What’s this about…?”

He’s quite for a moment, while you look over the flowers, a bright and happy look on your face. You know he’s had help with this, it’s what he and Nami were probably out buying while the others set things up.

“When we got married, legally, it wasn’t really a wedding,” scratching the back of his head, Zoro sighs just a bit before taking your hand and getting on one knee in front of you, returning the smile you’re giving him, “I know I was a stubborn ass about this for a long time, but you already know my thoughts on this, on us now…so I want to give you as real a wedding as I can. One you deserve.”

You have to stop yourself from laughing when it takes Zoro a minute to dig through the pockets he’s not used to find an engagement ring, one you don’t need but you figure Nami made him buy it just so you had one, even with your wedding band already on your hand.

“We’ve already got rings, and this time real witnesses,” you both can hear Luffy not so quietly asking Sanji for food before he's hushed and told to wait, everyone watching from the various places they’re hiding in, “Luffy’s ready to say whatever he needs to for us to be considered married on this crew, but I still have to ask you. So…will you marry me, for real this time, [Y/N]?”

“Of course, Zoro!” It’s not even something you can pretend to think about, not after everything you’ve gone through now. You throw your arms around him and Zoro hugs you close, there’s obvious relief like he was worried you’d changed your mind overnight while he tells you he loves you.

“Heyyy, can we do the ceremony now and eat?!”

“You idiot, she’s got to get dressed first!”

“Sanji made a great cake, it’s really sweet!”

“We were all glad when you went into town with Robin and Jinbei, we probably wouldn’t have gotten this all done if you hadn’t!”

“This is super great for both of you!”

“Yohohoho, I’ll get ready to play the wedding march then!”

“Mosshead, you better treat her right!”

“It’s wonderful to see you both happy now!”

“I may not have the full details of your circumstances, but congratulations to you both!”

You barely listen to your crewmates, your main focus being on Zoro and how this was pulled off so quickly, but you don’t bother to ask any questions, kissing your husband briefly.

“I suppose I should go get ready!”

“Yeah,” Zoro gives you a slight smirk before kissing your forehead, “I’ll be here, wife.”

Robin and Nami rush you off to your shared room to get you dressed, Robin having been sneaky and showing she’d purchased the dress she told you to buy, along with a small bouquet of flowers for you to carry. It’s nothing fancy, but that works perfectly with your relationship and how you’ve come together with Zoro.

Once they’ve got you ready the two go back to the deck to make sure everything and everyone is situated, sending Sanji after you a bit later, he’s agreed to be the one to give you away essentially, though you stop him just ad you’re about to head to the deck, he gives you a concerned look.

“Sanji, do you…do you think Zoro and I will last forever?”

Sanji takes a breath, before smiling and taking your hand as he lets it out.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a couple more destined to last than you two. Besides, I don’t think the mosshead is willing to wear a suit for just anybody.”

You laugh and agree, telling Sanji you’re ready before he leads you out to the deck.

It’s not a very long or formal ceremony, Luffy stumbles a few times trying to remember what he needs to say, he even gets choked up a few times when he thinks about how he’s seen you and Zoro go from a marriage born of convenience to now being in love and properly married. It almost gets to you as well, but you keep all your tears back, just a few slipping g out when Luffy tells Zoro to hurry up and kiss you which makes you laugh. You know Zoro hates public displays of affection, but he’s willing to look past it for you, only you he’d justify. After that Luffy shouts for the party to start, you and Zoro laughing together just a bit while he holds you close.

“Thanks for not giving up on me, wife.”

“Hmm, thanks for saving me, husband.”

Chopper is right, the cake Sanji made is sweet, you’re surprised Zoro even has some, that he mostly stays away from alcohol except when you bring him a drink later on. It prompts him to pull you to his lap, pressing a kiss to your cheek to make you giggle.

“What’s this for?”

“Nothing,” he sighs a bit, holding you closer and laying his forehead on your shoulder, “Just glad you’re my wife is all.”

“Forever, right?”

“Forever. No matter what happens.”

Nami and Sanji watch you two from the side, giving each other looks that tell more than anything they know you’ll make it. They’ve both watched you ever since they each joined, seen how Zoro treats you and how much you’ve come to love each other. Even when Luffy comes over and drags you away from your real, permanent husband to dance with your captain, the same look Sanji swore to you he’s always seen on Zoro’s face. Soft and loving, he just watches you while you and Luffy giggle together.

When everyone starts to settle down, you’re surprised by Chisa returning to you after being gone since you arrived in Wano. She stops in front of you with two letters, one you know is from Elias and the other from your parents, finally. You’re not sure what to think, even when Zoro wraps his arms around you and sets his chin on your shoulder.

“Well?”

Pursing your lips, you shrug, before tearing up the letter still in the envelope causing Zoro roll tighten his hold on you. For a minute you don’t say anything, before you sigh and lean back against him with a smile.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want care about what they have to say…I only care about you.”

“Hmm,” Zoro kisses tour cheek which makes you giggle before you do the same to him, “That’s my wife, I’m proud of you.”

“Love you, Zoro.”

“Yeah…I love you too.”

You two are going to last forever.

+!+

~10 years later~

You have a newborn baby girl to care for now, literally minutes old as she lays next to you and cries, unhappy about her new surroundings. It’s the middle of winter and the only people you’re allowing around her at the moment are the midwives of Shimotsuki Village that had come to help you deliver your baby in the middle of the day. Every one of them praises you for doing so well, but all you care about is your daughter and Zoro getting to see her, to meet her face to face. He’d been more anxious about it as you got closer to your due date, neither of you knowing if you’d have a boy or girl until the moment you gave birth, and now you have her!

She’s perfectly chubby, her little hands trying to grasp at the air while she wails and kicks her feet at the same time, even as you take hold of one of her hands. You want to laugh seeing her hair is just a slightly darker shade of green than Zoro’s, but smile instead as you calm her down.

“Shh, shh, baby girl, everything’s okay. I’m here, sweetheart. Your daddy’s on his way.”

It’s not even five minutes later you hear Nami yelling outside your door about how someone could miss this, while Sanji starts to swoon at her for being so protective of you but asking her to calm down, stress isn’t good for her or their own baby either. You hear Luffy laugh a bit himself, saying something you can’t understand before Usopp and Robin suggest they all leave you alone, as the door to your room opens and you’re so glad to see who’s finally there.

“Zoro~”

“I’m sorry I missed it, I was asking master something,” Zoro takes your hand you reached for him with, kissing your forehead before he sits beside you, looking at your baby with nothing but pride and love on his face, “We…we have a baby…”

“We have a daughter, Zoro.”

“She’s perfect. Just like her mama.”

Rolling your eyes, you just watch for a few minutes while Zoro takes in the fact you have a daughter to raise now. Honestly, you had been expecting to have a boy, and Zoro never told you what he thought you might have, he said it didn’t matter because it was your child, you made this baby together, he’d love them no matter what. But seeing him gently stroke her hair and let her hold onto his finger, you swear you’re falling in love with him all over again.

“Did you ask your master what we talked about?”

Zoro doesn’t hear you at first, he’s too focused on your daughter and watching her settle down, starting to sleep, before he realizes you spoke to him and asks you to repeat your question. When you do so, he nods, looking back to your daughter.

“Well?”

“He said nothing would make him happier…”

Nodding, you sigh in content when Zoro kisses your forehead again, before doing the same to your daughter.

“Welcome to the world, Kuina.”

You plan to give your daughter everything you never had and more, all the love in the world and no expectations to marry rich unless she decides to. Watching Zoro with her the rest of the day makes you realize this was all you ever wanted.

To love someone and be loved the same, and give that love to your own child forever.

#zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever #roronoa zoro x reader

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stevie-petey · 10 months ago

Text

episode four: will the wise

“What do you want, Hargrove?” Steve asks, situating himself so that more of his body is in between you and Billy. He sucks his teeth and then lets out a cold chuckle. “Nothin’, just didn’t know that this little sweetheart had it in her.” “Don’t call her that–” “I mean, her boyfriend runs off with your girlfriend?” Billy chuckles again. “I’m surprised Y/N Henderson ran into your arms, Harrington.”

summary: jonathan is gone for one day and suddenly all hell breaks loose, your hesitant friendship with steve is already rocky (thanks billy) but steve is hot when he's angry tbh, you become a couple's counselor to lucas and max (sorry dustin), and you're now officially the world's worst cat owner ever. and babysitter. but what else is new ?

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, mentions of blood and scars and knives

Words: 5.7k

Before you swing in: hello ! happy friday, heres chapter 4 :) before i say more, i wanted to inform yall that i started doing blurbs for come home if youre interested in seeing more lil scenes between everyone. they can be found here x. anyways, i absolutely cannot believe we're already halfway through the season (im skipping episode seven obviously, since its just an entire el ep). this chapter we see a liiiil more of readers dynamics with the kids, so im super happy about that. next chapter we finally get steve, dustin, and reader so !!! hella excited about that. for now, pls enjoy <3

Mike and Lucas split up and go outside while you, Dustin, and Max start running through the halls, shouting Will’s name.

“Will!” You’re more pleading rather than shouting. It’s happening again. It’s fucking happening again. Your mind is running a million miles a second, you feel the cold hand of fear twist around your throat. The last time you felt fear like this was when you showed up at Jonathan’s house and collapsed in his arms right after finding out Will had gone missing.

And now he’s gone again, but Jonathan isn’t here this time to keep you steady.

Dustin cups both hands over his mouth. “Will!”

You all turn a corner but Will isn’t there. Nothing.

“Dustin!” Joyce rounds the corner, alarmed. “What’s going on? Where’s Will?”

The woman is moreso asking you than the kids, but you can only shake your head at her helplessly. “I don’t know, Mrs. Byers.”

Joyce holds your gaze and you feel so ashamed of yourself. You’ve let her down again. She’s always been so trusting of you with her children, and here you are, once again a fucking wreck trying to find the son you’ve lost.

Down the hall, a door flings open. “The field!”

The four of you turn and find Lucas standing there, panting and out of breath. He motions for you all to follow and in a heartbeat you begin to run outside after him.

There, you find Mike in the field with Will standing next to him, and for a second you feel relief wash over you. He’s okay, he’s safe and isn’t in another dimension. But as you get closer, you notice the stiffness in Will and the way Mike is shaking his shoulder.

Something isn’t right.

“I just found him like this!” Mike is shouting. “I think he’s having another episode!”

This would make two in two days.

When you reach Will, you finally grasp how dire the situation is. He looks horrible, his eyes have rolled into the back of his head and are spasming. His body shakes, his fingers twitch by his side and the veins in his neck strain.

Joyce quickly grabs him and starts shaking his shoulders, pleading with him. “Will, sweetie, wake up! It’s mom!”

You cover a hand over your mouth as you watch, horrified. Dustin and Lucas stand next to you, each clutching your shirt in fear. Their fear grounds you, making you focus back on them and pull them closer to you. You try to give them as much reassurance as you possibly can, but you know it’s useless. All you guys can do is wait for the episode to end.

Max stands across from you, watching the situation unfold with her own uncertainty. She doesn't understand what any of this means. Why this is happening to Will, and why you’re close to tears as Joyce pleads with her son to come back to her.

The fear on her face is why you agree to Mike to not let Max into the party. They’re all so fucking young. Too young for any of this.

“Will, can you hear me?” Joyce pats Will’s face and you pull the boys even closer to you. Mike refuses to leave Will’s side.

“He’ll be okay,” you whisper to the kids, but you’re selfishly trying to comfort yourself.

Tears form in Mike’s eyes and you just want it all to stop. Will isn’t waking up and Dustin is shaking against you and Joyce’s pleas have become more like begs and it’s all too much.

Then, Will’s eyes snap open and he takes a sharp breath that hurts your own chest to hear.

You release the breath you’d been holding. The worst of it is over.

Will looks around shyly, as if he already knows it’s happened again. Joyce exhales and kisses his cheek and wraps him in her arms. Mike and the others look around, uncertain but relieved, while Max stands off to the side.

You wish you could explain it all to her, but it wouldn’t be right.

Slowly, once Will has recovered, you and the kids walk with Joyce back to their car. Dustin’s hand hasn’t left yours and you secretly wouldn’t let him go anyways if he tried.

“Have the episodes always been like this?” You ask your brother, now remembering that he had to witness that alone on Halloween night.

“Yeah,” Dustin responds, his voice small.

You squeeze his hand and follow after Joyce. In your head, you’re creating a list of all the baked goods you can make with the ingredients you know you have in your kitchen. They all deserve some oatmeal raisin cookies after this.

When you get to the car, you break away from the kids and step in front of Will. He’s pale, paler than he’s been in a while, and it’s only now that you see the bags underneath his eyes. He’s gotten worse, how could you have missed that?

You should’ve seen the signs sooner.

“Did I scare you?” Will asks, and you immediately grab his hand.

“No, never. You just… gave me a reminder that I love you. Go get some rest, little bee.” You kiss his cheek goodbye and he quietly gets in the car.

Joyce is behind you, and once Will is safely in the car you turn to face the woman. “Call me if anything else happens, please?”

She nods at you, already understanding why you need the reassurance. There’s a warmth in her eyes, even if every other part of her seems exhausted. “I will.”

“I know I’m not a scientist, or–or a licensed therapist but I just–”

“Sweetie, I understand. Apart from Hopper, you’ve done more research and reading than anyone else. If Will gets worse, I’ll call.”

You smile at the woman appreciatively. “Thank you.”

She squeezes your shoulders and then gets in the car, driving off. You stand there for a moment, needing a second to compose yourself, before turning around to join the kids standing on the school’s steps.

They seem to have all forgotten about Dart, but you sure as hell haven’t. Dustin fiddles with his walkie and won’t meet your eye, which only reminds you of how weird he had been acting in the bathroom earlier when he conveniently couldn't find Dart.

The two of you are definitely having a code blue tonight.

“Dustin, you’re my ride to work.”

“What?”

“Jonathan can’t take me, so I have to ride on your pegs.”

“Who’s Jonathan?” Max asks.

You give the girl a thumbs up. “Love the enthusiasm to understand everything, unfortunately I need to get to work and lecture my little brother.”

“Good luck, Dustin.” Mike snickers.

Your brother waves him off. “Yeah, yeah.”

You say goodbye to the kids, giving a stern warning that if they find any signs of Dart to tell you immediately. “I’m looking at you, Wheeler.”

Mike groans and you leave him to wallow as you hop on Dustin’s bike pegs

“She always this bossy?” Max mumbles to Lucas.

He shrugs. “Yeah, but she’s also always right, so.”

You blow a kiss towards the boy, and he blushes. Once Dustin is ready, the two of you head towards town.

The bike ride is quick, one of the small perks of living in a small town. The entire ride, you and Dustin are quiet. You both know that you have many choice words to say, but Dustin still looks shaken up from Will’s episode and you’re not doing too well, either.

When Bookstrordinary’s sign greets you, you tap Dustin’s shoulder to alert him to stop. You can walk the rest of the way, you don’t want him out too late in the dark.

“You’re lucky I can’t call off tonight, otherwise I’d kill you right now.”

“You’re such a great big sister, Y/N.”

“Thanks, I try.”

You hop off the bike and sigh. “When I get home tonight, you and I are talking.”

Dustin looks down, but takes a deep breath and salutes you halfheartedly. You laugh a bit, salute back, and then tell him to bike home safely.

–

After a very long and anxious shift, you ask your coworker for a ride home.

Alex almost drops his keys and looks around, as if you could be talking to anyone else in the empty store. “M–me?”

“Yes, Alex. I need a ride home.”

“Where’s Jonathan? I won’t like, die if I drive you, right?”

You roll your eyes. “No, he’d only kill you if you didn’t drive me home since it’s late.”

Alex exhales, relieved. “Okay, yeah. I can take you home, then.”

By the time you get home, it’s later than you anticipated. Alex was kind enough to drive you, but had you known he was a new driver who went ten below the speed limit, you would’ve just walked.

You walk inside and all the lights are off. Your mom is on the couch with Mews, softly snoring while some program plays on the TV. She tends to do that now, fall asleep on the couch rather than her bed. Too many memories, she explained once to you.

Quietly you take your shoes off and grab some leftovers in the fridge. Dustin’s door is closed and his own light is off, which you sigh at.

“Shit.”

He could be tricking you into thinking he’s asleep, but you could just be overthinking it. Dustin has been having more nightmares recently, you’d feel horrible if you knocked on his door and woke him up from his much needed sleep. He’s been through enough today.

You eat your dinner, alone at the table, and you wonder how exactly you’ve wound up here again. Monster on the loose, Will in danger, Jonathan off with Nancy.

Seems like you can never have a normal November ever again.

After you’re done eating, you tiredly head to your room and collapse on your bed. Except, instead of landing on your soft pillows, you land on a hard body instead.

“Oomph–” A voice groans underneath you.

You fling yourself off, finding Jonathan laying there. “Jonathan Byers, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

He rubs his eyes. “Said we’d call tonight.”

You stare at him. “That doesn’t at all answer my question.”

“We said we’d call tonight, but then Nancy and I realized our calls could be traced here, too. To your house, but I promised to keep you updated, so… Here I am.”

“And napping in my bed was just something you had to do?”

Jonathan yawns. “Yup.”

You flick his forehead. “Scoot over.”

He makes room for you on the bed so that you lay side by side. Technically he’s not supposed to sleep in your bed, but your mom never said anything about naps or cuddling. You nuzzle against Jonathan’s chest, allowing the fear and anger from today leak out of your bones as you rest them. He’s always had that effect on you.

Here, in Jonathan’s arms, you feel the safest.

“What did I miss today?” You ask once you’re settled in.

Jonathan thinks for a moment. “Well, Nance and I got the tape recorder and then drove to her house. She called Barb’s parents, told them she had to confess something about Barb and to meet her tomorrow at Forrest Hills Park in the morning.”

“She’s a genius.”

“She is,” Jonathan lazily responds. He’s drawing small circles against your hand, which is splayed against his chest. His sweater, one you bought him for his birthday, is soft against you. Jonathan seems happy right now, or at least content, and you almost don’t want to ruin the moment.

It’s so rare to have him like this these days. The old Jonathan, shy and quiet and bashful.

But he has to know about Will and Dart. It’s only right that he knows.

“Something happened today, at the middle school.”

There must be something in your voice, because the second the words leave your mouth, Jonathan sits up to look at you. “What happened?”

“My brother found a baby monster from the Upside Down, named him Dart, hid it from me, and now he’s lost.” Jonathan stares at you and you can only sigh. “Will also had another episode. His second one in two days.”

“Fuck…”

“Yeah. Got to the middle school and suddenly I was chasing around some lizard looking thing from the Upside Down. Pretty typical day, honestly.”

“I wish I could’ve been there, I’m sorry. I can help you look for Dart tomorrow–”

“It’s okay,” you reassure Jonathan. “If anything, this all just proves that you and Nancy are onto something. I mean, it’s been a year and we’re still dealing with so many fucking problems due to their carelessness. How the fuck does a creature from the Upside Down just happen to survive and find its way to my brother? I mean, what if someone else had found it?”

You shake your head. “Something’s going on. You and Nancy need to keep going. Expose those evil fuckers.”

Jonathan frowns. “But what about you? What if the baby monster has a bigger, angrier mom and you get hurt?”

You hadn’t thought about that, honestly. “Huh, that’s a great question.”

“Bug–”

“I’ll be fine, bee. Those assholes at Hawkin’s Lab need to pay.”

Jonathan throws his head back, closes his eyes, and sighs. He knows he can’t argue with you about this, you already willingly took over the role of babysitter, but he still doesn’t like it. Sometimes your selflessness makes him want to scream.

“I hate that you’re always right.”

“I personally love it.” You respond, and Jonathan laughs. He uses his whole chest, it’s breathy and deep and full of warmth, and you smile and kiss his cheek as he laughs.

No other conversation follows, you and Jonathan are content with just laying there in silence. It’s been a while since you guys were this close. Limbs tangled with limbs, the warmth from the body heat almost too much to stand, yet just enough to love.

He stays for a while, but eventually he kisses your forehead and tells you he has to go. “Early morning, but I promise I’ll be back the next day.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Jonathan laughs again and untangles himself from you. He presses another kiss to your forehead, playfully tucks your blanket underneath your chin like a child, and then wishes you a goodnight as he leaves through your window.

–

For some goddamn reason, you miss your four fucking alarms this morning and oversleep. By almost an entire hour. You’ve never, ever slept through your alarms this horribly before, and you’re blaming the Hawkin’s Lab people for it.

Now, you know the real reason is because you’ve spent every night for the last three weeks obsessively researching post-traumatic stress disorder, but blaming Hawkin’s Lab makes you feel better.

You get ready as fast as you can, and of course this happens the one morning Jonathan can’t drive you to school and you have to bike. Your mom and Dustin have already left, which. Fuck. You still have to talk to Dustin about Dart.

Not off to a great start this morning.

It takes a burnt piece of toast for breakfast, cramped calves, and a lot of prayers, but you manage to make it to school only minutes before the first bell rings. When you arrive, you have just enough time to notice that both Steve’s car and Bllly’s car are parked in the lot.

Great. You have to deal with them both alone today.

As you’re walking inside, you hear a few people whispering about Jonathan and Nancy. Seems like word has spread that they skipped fourth period together yesterday and still haven’t returned yet.

Awesome. Steve will definitely be in a great mood today once he hears about that.

He can’t seem to catch a damn break.

And neither can you, because you quickly realize how weird it is being at school without Jonathan and Nancy. It’s lonely, and Steve still seems to be hiding from you.

No, not hiding, you remind yourself. He’s still hurt, he asked for space and the least you can do is give it to him. You told him where to find you.

And find you Steve does.

You’re in the lunchroom, staring sadly at your pathetic lunch consisting of a handful of granola bars, resolving yourself to a lonely lunch without your friends, when Steve’s body slides into the seat next to you. You look up, surprised, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay… About what? I forgot what topic we’re on. Are we still on the whole friends conversation?”

Steve isn’t in the mood for this. “Where did Jonathan and Nancy go?”

Fuck.

You look around the lunchroom, scared that the wrong people could be listening in. “I… Okay, I know we just had a whole conversation about being honest and I begged to be your friend again but… I can’t tell you.”

Steve takes several seconds to respond. You know he’s doing everything he can to not completely snap at you. “You… can’t tell me where my girlfriend ran off to?”

“No…”

“You recognize how fucking stupid that sounds, right?”

You swallow. “I do.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s so beyond pissed off right now. Yesterday you were in his car, reassuring him that he’s a good guy and charming and pretending to be his friend again. Now, you won’t tell him where the fuck his girlfriend has gone.

Steve isn’t an idiot. He knows there’s more to why you ditched him this summer, something you refuse to tell him, and he respected that. He did. He hadn’t wanted to push you too far, but it’s pretty damn ironic that you’re trying to get back into his life while still fucking lying to him.

You see the obvious frustration on Steve’s face, and you wince. You take another look around, deciding to risk it. This isn’t fair to him, he deserves to know because from an outside perspective, you’d also be incredibly pissed off if your girlfriend just up and left with the guy she has weird feelings for.

“Listen,” you lean in close, whispering, “Jonathan and Nancy went off to get evidence about who really killed Barb.”

Steve whips his head back. “What–”

“Shh!” You reach behind his head and shove him back down so that you can whisper again. “That’s all I can tell you. There’s… There’s people who could be listening, bad people who could hurt us and–”

“Well, what do we have here?” A voice interrupts.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up.

It’s Billy.

You and Steve break apart, but he places a hand on the back of your seat in a protective manner. You lean in closer to him, trying to make yourself smaller as if Billy doesn’t already have his eyes on you anyways.

“What do you want, Hargrove?” Steve asks, situating himself so that more of his body is in between you and Billy.

He sucks his teeth and then lets out a cold chuckle. “Nothin’, just didn’t know that this little sweetheart had it in her.”

“Don’t call her that–”

“I mean, her boyfriend runs off with your girlfriend?” Billy chuckles again. “I’m surprised Y/N Henderson ran into your arms, Harrington.”

Billy learned your name.

You don’t want to know how.

“I mean,” Billy shrugs. “It’s a genius plan. Scorned lovers pissing off their exes. But from what I’ve heard, the school’s sweetheart wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”

“Jonathan and I aren’t together.” You finally find your voice.

This only seems to entice Billy. He takes a step forward and leans against your table. “So, you’re single then?”

Steve’s hand tightens around your seat and you feel his body tense. Billy seems to notice this, too, and shakes his head.

“I know I promised I’d leave you some, Harrington. But this one?” He leans in closer to you, his breath minty and cold as it ghosts against your face. “She’s cute. I think I’ll keep this one.”

A chair goes flying across the room as Steve stands up. He has his fist raised and you’ve never seen his eyes so cold before. He hates what Billy is implying about you, as if he has some claim over you, as if you aren’t a human fucking being.

You’re so much more than that.

“Don’t talk about her that way.” Steve growls out, his face inches away from Billy’s.

Billy seems to come to life, having finally cracked Steve Harrington, and within a second he has his own fists raised. You’re aware of everyone’s eyes on you in the lunchroom and vaguely you remember Steve confessing to you how much of a hardass his father is on him about school. He can’t get into any more trouble, especially not because of you.

You shove yourself between Steve and Billy, despite how much your body screams at you to run away for being so close to the other boy. You ignore him, and force Steve to look at you. “Not here. Please.”

Steve looks between you and Billy, sees the pleading in your eyes. He sighs and reluctantly backs down.

“Seems like the sweetheart has you whipped, Harrington.” Billy remarks, a pleased smile on his face. “Makes me want her even more–Shit!”

Milk drips down Billy’s entire shirt.

“Oops,” you say, without any ounce of sincerity. You set the empty carton down and give the boy a aren’t I such a clutz? look. “God, silly me! I can’t hurt a fly, but it seems I also can’t hold a milk carton properly.”

Steve stifles a laugh next to you, and around the room a few others are brave enough to laugh as well. You smile innocently at Billy, who looks five seconds away from flipping the table. “Sorry about that.”

Billy, knowing he’s being watched, forces a smile himself. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Oh, I’m sure the shirt was only worth $5 anyways.”

This time Steve lets his laughs out and it calms you, steadies the shakiness you feel as you stand off against Billy. You hope you’re hiding how fucking terrified you are right now.

You wait for a response, but Billy only storms out of the lunchroom. It’s quiet for a few moments, but slowly the usual buzz in the room returns and everyone goes back to their conversations. You stand there, your heart still in your throat, and Steve’s hand brings you back.

“Hey, sit.” He tugs you back down and you’re too numb to fight back. “That was awesome, but are you okay?”

“Honestly? No.”

He thinks for a moment. “Alright, well. I’m still mad at you, so… Would it be shitty if I left?”

Despite everything, you find yourself laughing. “No, Steve. I understand.”

He lingers. “Are you sure? I mean, I can stay…”

“No,” you squeeze his hand. “We can talk more about this later. Alone, without possible psychotic spies around. Go.”

Steve bites his lip, but he’s still angry at you and he has so many things he wants to ask but you’re pale and still shaking from Billy. If he demands more from you, Steve knows it wouldn’t end well for either of you. You both need your space right now, that’s one thing he’s come to learn about you and relate to himself.

Sighing, he stands up and, to try and make up for being the asshole who leaves a vulnerable girl alone, Steve ruffles your hair. “Stay out of trouble, will ya?”

“No promises.” You smile up at him, though you know it looks as tired as it feels.

He hesitates again, pauses for a few seconds, but eventually he leaves. And then you’re left alone again.

–

As soon as school lets out, you march straight over to the middle school, knowing the kids are bound to be there. Dustin, specifically. He’s managed to slip through your fingers three times now.

Holy shit, you’re really losing your touch.

The second you find the little asshole you’re going to demand a code blue, doesn’t matter where you’ll be, and then interrogate him about Dart and figure out whatever the hell else he’s hiding from you. Then, you’ll make him clean Mews’ litter box for a whole month.

You’re so lost in your revenge planning thoughts, you almost walk right past Lucas and Max arguing in the parking lot.

“What is wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” Max flies past you, her shoulder knocking against yours. You steady her and notice she’s talking to a very nervous looking Lucas.

Oh dear.

“I don’t understand!” He calls after her.

��Hey, what’s going on?” You try to intervene, but Max rips herself out of your grasp and gets in Lucas’ face.

“No!” She’s shouting now. “I don’t understand! You guys act like you want me to be your friend but–but then you treat me like garbage?”

Huh. She’d get along great with you and Steve.

Lucas looks over at you, helpless. “That’s not true!”

“Don’t look at me, buddy.” You tell him.

“Yes, it is! You go and hide in the AV Club, keeping secrets like we’re in second grade or something…” Max’s words catch in her throat, giving you a glimpse of the hurt girl underneath her indifferent exterior. “You know, I thought you guys wanted me in your party.”

You step close to her. “Max, I know it might not make any sense but–”

“Don’t tell me you’re in the party but I’m not.”

Now it’s your turn to look towards Lucas for help.

He sighs. “Look, we want you in our party, but it’s…”

“But what?” Max looks between you and Lucas, obviously becoming more and more hurt the longer this conversation goes on.

“There… there are just things.”

“Things, yeah.” You unhelpfully echo, but Lucas glares at you. “Sorry.”

He tries again. “There are things we can’t tell you, alright? For your own safety.”

“Lucas,” you warn, scared he’ll say too much, but Max just gets angrier.

“My own safety?”

“Yes!”

“Because I’m a girl?”

Well, that’s certainly one way to look at it.

Lucas scoffs. “What? No!”

You step in between the kids. “Alright, no. That’s not it at all and this conversation will just keep going in circles.”

Max ignores you. “Did you keep secrets from El?”

You and Lucas share a look, and then, at the same time, ask, “How do you know about El?”

“Did you?” She presses, but she’s looking more at you now than Lucas. She’s expecting you to take her side, to tell the boys to be nice to her and let her into the party, but the scar on your upper arm burns and your ankle faintly throbs. Those wounds will never fully go away; you’ll carry them with you your entire life.

You know how shitty it feels to be left out, but you also know how shitty the nightmares are as well. Max can never be brought into the Upside Down. Not when she has the chance to live a happy and normal life, free from any danger and turmoil.

“That was different,” you tell Max, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I really, really wish I could explain, but I can’t. It’s for your own good. If I could’ve prevented the party from going through what they have, I would’ve. But I couldn’t, and it haunts me every day.”

Max stares at you, and you admire how much spunk she has in her. You can see her thinking about what you’ve said, analyzing your words for any lies or deception, and you know she’s spent years doing this on her own. Your heart breaks for her.

Billy’s anger flashes in your mind. Max is an intelligent girl, but you know he’s the reason why.

When she can’t find any lies in your words, she just sighs and shakes her head. “You know what? Forget it. Okay? I don’t want to be in your stupid party anyway. I’m out. Have a nice life.”

Lucas stands there for a moment, processing what’s just happened. “Max!”

“You still stink, by the way.” She calls back, and you step back a bit from Lucas.

“Not to make this worse, but she’s right.”

Lucas glares at you but then sniffs his jacket, cringing with repulsion. “Oh, shit!”

He throws his hands up in the air and starts walking back towards the school. You don’t follow for a second, instead you watch as Max skates down towards the parking lot, where Billy is waiting. He has his arms spread against his car, and he seems to have noticed you long before you noticed him.

Billy’s eyes pierce yours and you shudder. There’s a hatred in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, unlike anything else. Again, your heart breaks for Max. You can’t imagine having an older brother like him.

You force yourself to turn around and join Lucas up ahead. Gross, sleazy men are the least of your concerns right now.

But then Lucas turns and makes eye contact with Billy before you can warn him not to. “Why is that guy glaring at us?”

You shove Lucas to keep walking. You don’t at all like the disdain in Billy’s eyes. “I poured milk all over his shirt today. Keep moving.”

The boy trips over a rock. “You what?”

“Long story, can we please just go inside and find Dustin? I need to talk to him.”

Lucas sighs, knowing that what he’s about to say will only anger you more. “I can’t find Dustin either. We were supposed to meet by our lockers after school to keep looking for Dart.”

You stop walking. “And he didn’t show?”

“Nope.”

“I’m going to kill him.” You know exactly where your brother is: at home hiding Dart and trying to figure out what to do with him.

Lucas senses you know something. “Y/N, what did he do?”

“Nothing!” You cover for Dustin quickly, because he’s your idiotic brother whose problems are also somehow yours. You’ll always have his back, but you also hate lying to Lucas. “He just probably had to head home immediately. Our mom has guests over.”

“Guests?”

“Yeah! Totally unexpected, I know, but you know how our mom is.” You start speed walking towards the bike rack. You need to head home. Now.

Lucas doesn’t believe you. “Y/N–”

“I’m sorry about Max, by the way!” You call as you run towards your bike. “Talk to her! Obviously don’t mention the… Stuff, but just know if it doesn’t work then it’s for the best! We have to keep her safe!” You’re rambling as you unlock your bike and hop on.

Lucas is not far behind you. “Are you seriously giving me girl advice as you’re running away from me to go cover for Dustin?”

“Yes. Bye, Lucas!”

He lets out a frustrated groan and calls after you, but you kick up your kickstand and immediately pedal away, leaving him in the dust. You feel bad, you do. Lucas is one of your favorites to interact with, he’s always been the most rational, but right now you have to go make sure your brother doesn’t burn down this entire town.

You’ll bake Lucas brownies later.

–

“Dustin Henderson, you’re so dead!” You slam the front door, sweaty and out of breath from your frantic bike ride.

“Y/N! What’s going on?” Your mother clutches her chest, obviously frightened by your sudden entrance.

You quickly walk towards Dustin’s closed door. “Everything’s fine, just sibling stuff.”

“Oh, well have you seen Mews?”

The door is locked. Of course the fucker locked the door. You start pounding on it. “Dustin, let me in before I radio all your friends.” Then, you call to your mother in the living room. “And no, I haven’t seen Mews, mom.”

You hear her sigh and mutter to herself where Mews could be, and you figure you’ll help her look after your idiot of a brother lets you into the room.

Again you pound against the door. “Dustin, I swear to god–”

The door swings open and a hand grabs your shirt and flings you inside, before promptly slamming the door behind you. Once you’re inside, Dustin turns to you, worried. “We have a problem.”

“Damn right we have a problem, where the hell have you been–” There, behind Dustin, is his turtle’s tank, completely shattered. Bile rises to your throat. “Please tell me Yurtle suddenly got super strong.”

Dustin walks over to the tank and holds up what looks like slimy plastic. “So, I kept Dart.”

“Dustin–”

“And he grew. A lot. This is his old skin.” He throws it back down. Then, backing away from you a bit, he admits, “I also can’t find him.”

It takes everything within you not to strangle the kid right then and there. You start pacing the room, mumbling to yourself, “I’m a good sister, I’m a good sister, I’m a good sister.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, alright? I just, I got excited and Dart likes me and–”

A loud growl cuts your brother off. In a heartbeat, he’s back by your side, clutching your shirt in fear. Instinctively, you pull him behind you and reach for your switchblade that you always keep in your pocket now. After everything that’s happened, you find comfort in having the weapon always close to you.

Slowly, you and Dustin start walking towards where the growl came from. Your hand never leaves his back, ready to push him out the door in case anything happens. There’s horrible grunting noises coming from the corner of his room. As you walk closer, you see a trail of dark red scattered across the carpet and his chair.

It’s blood.

The realization makes your breath hitch.

The grunting gets louder as you approach the chair, and then, slowly, you peek behind it. There, you’re met with a gruesome sight.

Dart is eating Mews.

He's bigger than he was yesterday. Way bigger. Dangerously bigger.

You scream, unable to help it, and Dustin quickly covers your mouth so that you don’t alert your mother. The sound seems to alert Dart, however, and he raises his head from Mews’ stomach, covered in blood, and lets out a horrific screech.

Its mouth opens the same way the monster’s did at Jonathan’s last year, the same monster that had almost killed you and your friends. The sight paralyzes you in fear as the memories come crashing back from that night. The scar on your arm burns again. Your ankle twings in pain, and you feel sick.

Your cat is dead.

And Dustin has been hiding a fucking baby demogorgon in your home.

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deathmybride · 2 months ago

Text

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ these violent delights | davos blackwood (part 9) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ship: davos blackwood x fem!oc

warnings: 18+ explicit smut

summary: they fuck

word count: 5333

a/n: this chapter is long asf and I was almost going to publish it as a two parter and leave you all with blue balls once again but I decided to just wait it out until I finished it! So sorry about the extra long wait. Next chapter is the END (I hope) not counting the epilogue okay bye

When Cersha returned to her chamber, she was not surprised to see Davos perched on the bay windowsill, his fingers laced around his bent knee while his injured leg stretched out beside him. She had expected him to be blistering mad at her abrupt dismissal earlier that afternoon, but he was a vision of weary resignation as his forehead rested on the glass. The watery light filtered through the fresh linen shirt he had dressed in, showing the curve of his torso and the sinewy length of his arms. He lifted his head and smiled as the door creaked shut, she saw that he was rid of the patchy beard that had grown in the twelve days since the battle. Had it really been such a short time?

“My, I’ve never seen you so clean.” She teased.

“All in service of you, my lady.” He got shakily to his feet and bowed mockingly.

“Davos, please.” She sighed, the elation of her epiphany at the sept already waning.

“What?” He cocked his head to the side and offered a slanted smirk. “I’m your sworn protector, aren’t I? Chastely sworn… we both know how that turned out, now don’t we?”

She reddened at the memory of his lips stamping wet marks across her skin. She said nothing, only rolling her eyes. He sat back heavily on the sill and clucked his tongue.

“Were you sitting on that lie for long?”

“Only since…” She drifted off, feeling a wave of residual panic at the memory of the night before. Davos’ face softened and she shied away from the earnestness of it. “Look, I’m sorry. I am. I just, I wasn’t sure how Oscar would take it if he knew who you were or that a Blackwood had killed a Night’s Watchman on his land, I thought he might…”

“Execute me on the spot?”

“No! No, he’d never kill unless he had to. I was afraid he may send you back to your family to be punished for desertion, or that he might have just thrown you in the dungeon or something for starting this whole mess.”

“’Starting this whole mess,’ is that what you think? Is that why you still don’t trust me after all we’ve been through?”

“No! You were defending your family’s honour, I cannot fault you that, but the battle began with the swing of your sword. That is the truth. I feared Oscar’s retribution, but his ire is for the lord regent who instructed the default on the assize.”

“Always trying to protect me, aren’t you? What ire could that boy have? He looks as if-”

“As much ire as I’ll have if you speak ill of him.” He just scoffed and shook his head. “Asides, it matters not. Oscar recognised you.”

“I could have told you that,” He said. “If you’d only told me of your plans.”

“I see that now.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I surmised you would not take kindly to concealing your identity from the regent high lord. I did not want to fight you.”

“Why?” His expression darkened as he pushed to his feet and limped a step closer to her. “Are you afraid of me?” A step closer. “Think I might kill you?”

Another step closed the gap between them, his hand coming to rest feather-light on her neck. Her eyelids drooped as the tickles of his callouses fizzed through her brain.

“We’ve come this far crow boy.” She looked up through her lashes, seeing him obscured behind soft focus and beige streaks. “If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now.” She pressed forward until there was a slight pressure on her throat. “I’ve seen the fire in you, but I’m not scared. It burns for me, does it not?”

“Aye.” He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as his pupils blew out into glossy black discs in the confines of his dark eyes. “All for you, my lady.”

That was enough to make her melt into his touch, savouring the warm, full feeling that radiated from his rough hand as it formed the perfect collar around her swan-curved neck. That feeling, not of possession but of belonging, as people sometimes belong to each other. Her hands found his neck in some attempt to mirror the experience back to him, thumbs stroking the smooth skin from his ears to his collarbones as his eyes drifted closed. His breaths grew ragged as he leaned in to rest his forehead on hers.

“I think…” His nose brushed hers, lips so close that every breath was a heady exchange of essence, hearts racing in syncopated time. “...I want to know what it’s like to kiss you.”

“Is that so surprising?” Her fingers stroking his jaw pulsed a rhythm in his veins.

“I don’t kiss.” He growled weakly, stomach fluttering like a virgin maid.

“Why?” Her breath on his lips was the ghost of a kiss.

“Brings all sorts of… feelings.” Her hands were in his hair now, scratching gently at his scalp and savouring the rabbity softness of his freshly washed locks until blissful tremors weakened his knees.

“Is that such a bad thing?” He let go of a whimper as she rubbed her nose against his.

“If I kiss you, I’ll never stand to be parted from you. I’ll have to marry you.”

She pulled back, all the silvery feeling rushing through the channel of their meeting eyes.

“Kiss me.”

In that soft afternoon light, safe at last behind the stony battlements with the dull roar of the rushing moat shielding them from silence, in a room lovingly furnished with the colours of their liege, with the perfumed steam from the bath behind the fish mural divider wreathing around them, they shook off their houses like two bucks losing their antlers in spring. It was as if there had been a levee between them, weeping water from long spiderweb cracks, and now the stones came bursting out and there it was. The torrent of feeling, the lips parting, the passion, the crush, the smelting together of two beings in this primeval ritual.

At last they broke apart, her gasping for air and him kissing down her neck, whining against her perfect skin.

“Davos.” She panted. He nipped her. She took a handful of black hair and tugged it firmly. “Davos!”

“Mm…” He tilted his head back and she saw his eyes clouded by lust.

“Behave.” She pecked his swollen lips. “I must bathe first. I stink.”

A mischievous grin spread across his face and he buried his nose in her neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell-” Sniff. “-fantastic.”

As she lifted her arm to push him away he stuck his face right into the pit and drew in a long breath.

“Like a woman.” He sighed dreamily and began peppering kisses across her chest.

“Get away!” She laughed, lifting her arms and throwing back her head to give him more access to the skin exposed by her dress. “You foul beast.”

He just chuckled and kissed all over her collarbones, bending double as she backed away until they bumped into the tub. He whined when he realised where they had ended up.

“Sweetling.” He pouted, trying to coax her back toward the bed.

“Davos, anyone would think you’re starving.” She rolled her eyes with an exasperated smile. “Come on. Won’t you wash my hair for me?”

“You know slavery is outlawed in the Seven Kingdoms?”

“Just get in the bath.” She pursed her lips derisively, letting her hands wander up under his shirt to explore the dips and curves of his back. “Just… soak with me for a while. Please?”

He scoffed and she could see him fighting against a blissful smile as her nails raked up his spine.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” She murmured. “Was that so hard?”

He smiled in that exasperated way, peeled off his shirt and dropped his breeches and underclothes in a swift, practical motion. For an instant she was stunned by the beauty of him; the subtle dips and rises of muscle on his thin limbs and torso, the grazes, bruises and old faded scars that each served as a reminder of passionate fury roused when something he loved was at risk, and the supple pink skin of his dick that hung half-hard by his thigh.

“What?” He grinned. “Like what you see?”

“Your wound.” She pointed to the bandage on his thigh, trying to save face.

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes. “Do you want me in the bath or not?”

She bit her lip.

“You can dress it again later.” He had pulled it off and clambered awkwardly into the milky water before she had the chance to protest, gripping both sides of the tub as he gingerly lowered himself down. “Gods, that’s lovely.”

“You’re always putting yourself in harm’s way for me.”

“You love it.” She did love it. “Though I hardly think a bath can be considered ‘harm’s way.’ Besides, this is far nicer than the bath they drew for me. Just hot water, a rag and a bar of soap. No…” He picked out a floating rose petal and inspected it before letting it float away like a grumpkin’s sailboat. “...luxury.”

She noticed then that she had indeed been showered in what little frills Riverrun could afford with an encroaching war. Roses from the gardens floating on water white from goat’s milk; she suspected from the lactonic, pastoral scent that it was not the cow’s milk favoured by most highborn ladies for bathing. The water was silky through her fingers, from salt and honey she assumed, and lavender oil turned the steam heavy and narcotic.

“The boy favours you still.” Davos remarked as he reached for a brown-skinned pear from the tray on the side table, cut in half and loaded high with soft cheese and a crust of walnuts, and popped the whole thing in his mouth, wiping the juice with the back of his hand.

“Enough about Oscar.” She flicked a scoop of water at him, making him sputter. “And don’t eat all those, I’m starving. Did they not feed you earlier?”

“They did, but I’m never satisfied, my lady.” He smiled sweetly. “Minnows and cress on toast, though the ones you catch are far sweeter.”

“Thank you.” She preened, though his flattery was obvious, and took a pear for herself, a little moan escaping her at the flavour. “I must confess, I have missed real food. I hope they give us lamb tonight, or veal. Something that’s fed on grass and hasn’t had to fight for every morsel-”

“Are you getting in or not?”

She huffed at his blunt tone and expectant face, and finished her pear in two irritated bites. The amusement on his face was almost enough to make her storm off, but stronger than the annoyance that was only heightened by the bubbling fear of removing her clothes in front of him was her desire to be close to him. She turned her back to him and unlaced her dusty riding gown, letting it fall in a heap at her feet. In just her smallclothes, she hesitated. His eyes burned her from behind as the air burned her from inside. She heard the water slosh and Davos’s hand found hers, dripping water on her gown.

“Hey.” He said softly, squeezing her hand gently until she turned and met his eyes. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not gonna laugh at you. Whatever you’re afraid of-” He tapped his temple. “It’s in here. I think you’re beautiful.”

She closed her eyes, letting the words settle inside her, then lifted his hand to the lacing on her top. In a few deft movements he had pulled it loose, letting her free herself from it along with the bottoms. Instinct told her to cover herself, but she balled her fists and held them at her sides, letting his gaze roam across her form. She had always thought of herself as ungainly, all sharp angles and no curves, but under his eyes she felt her jutting hip and shoulder bones held the beauty of an ancient gnarled willow, and her long sinewy arms still covered in dirt were like the wings of a falcon rising from a bath of dust. She was a dryad and she glowed.

“You are…” He kissed her hand. “…so…” Again. “...fucking…” Once more. “...gorgeous. Gods, I don’t know what you’ve done to me, woman. You’re all I ever think about.”

The haze of steam caught the candlelight and danced in wisps around him. His hair turned black as pitch in the damp, the blood rose to his cheeks, and beneath that deep grey, his eyes were so green. Green like moss and agate and beetle wings. He was made of frown lines and scars, taut muscle, crooked teeth and passion like fire.

“Davos.” Her hand found his face. “I meant to say before, but… I suppose I was frightened. But, you’re- you’re… a vision. I am so glad to have met you.”

She kissed him, and for a moment it was all lips and fig sweetness until he smiled against her.

“Get in the bath.”

“Fine.”

She tried to glower as she clambered in beside him, but the warm embrace of the water was far too enticing. The surface sloshed as he spread his knees, making room for her to sit between his legs, and the level rose so high it nearly ran over the edge when they were both settled.

“Was that so hard?” He mumbled as he kissed her shoulder.

“Shut up.”

They sat that way for a while, cloistered in hot silky water. She ate her pears and washed the dirt from her skin, and he hummed a ballad so sweet that she could have cried. When she was done he freed her filthy hair from the braid, lathered it with soap and washed it with deft fingers massaging her scalp. She could not help the little groans of satisfaction that escaped her at the gentle tickling touch. She could feel him pressing into her back as he fisted her wet hair tightly and let his lips rest flush against the shell of her ear, his hot breath sending tingles to her toes.

“I’m warning you, my lady, if you keep making those filthy noises I might take right here in the bath.”

“Maybe you ought to.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Would you like that?” His lips parted to kiss her ear and she felt her eyes slip out of focus at the sensitivity there.

“Please.”

His free hand found her nipple, already a hard, pink marble beneath the hot water, and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. Her hips lifted and her hand fell between her spreading legs in an involuntary response.

“Please, please,” Came his rough whisper. “Please what, my lady?”

“Please…” She gasped. “Please touch me.”

“Where? Where can I touch to please you, my sweet-” Kiss. “-virtuous-” Kiss. “-Bracken-”

A slosh of water hit the ground as she whipped around and took hold of his cock, feeling it hard, yet supple under her grasp like a lance wrapped in silk. He whimpered as she pulled her hand in slow, deliberate motions around the head.

“If you don’t stop teasing me I’ll rip it off, I swear.”

“There she is.” He relinquished his grip on her hair as he rocked his hips, letting his length slide through her hand as he gripped her thighs. “There’s the fire.”

He pulled her legs apart without another thought and ran his fingers along her slit. She was slick where the water had not washed it away, and he could feel the folds of her were swollen blooms beneath the wiry swathe of hair. She jolted when he found that little button at the top, a high keening coming from her throat at that sweet agony.

“It’s okay now, my love.” He assured her.

“It’s…” She whined. “It’s so…”

“It’s so good, sweetling, I know. I know.”

He spread her open with one hand, pulling back the hood of skin that covered that nub and rubbed his fingers in steady circles, drawing moans from her like music from a harp. Her hips pushed up against him and she lost hold of his cock, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was that beautiful rhythm of her reaching for him, reaching for that incomprehensible height. His fingers slowed, he needed her lucid for a moment.

“Cersha.” He spoke against her ear. “Are you listening darling?”

“Mm.” She nodded, desperately pushing up against the minute rotations of his digits.

“Have you ever touched yourself?”

She nodded again.

“On the inside?”

“No.” She shook her head, her voice strained. “Never inside.”

A puff of breath escaped him.

“Do you…” She panted. “Like that about me?”

“Does it make me… perverse if I do?” He growled. “If I want to claim you before anyone, before even you?”

“I want it to be you.” She admitted freely.

“Then it will be me.” He kissed her cheek reassuringly, his fingers circling her bud a faster now.

He worked on her for a while, bringing her back to the peak, and as pleasure rolled through her like white-capped waves, a finger plunged inside her. It slid in so easily that she scarcely registered the change until she grew aware of a strange tightening, and a thickness that she clenched against. She gasped, earning a chuckle from her lover.

“Is that good?”

She nodded, her hand flying to her mouth as he began to slowly, incrementally pump it in and out. Just as she was growing used to the rhythm, he curled his finger inwards and seemed to hit some strange point that sent a jolt of pleasure through her. She shrieked and covered her face.

“That’s good, isn’t it, sweetling?”

He nuzzled the side of her face as his fingers rapidly fluttered against her sweet spot, his palm bumping her bud, radiating syrupy, heady sensation. She gave a little yelp and buried her face in his neck, making him grin.

“More…” She managed to say. “...please.”

“As you wish.”

She felt empty for a moment as he drew back his finger, but soon enough she was gasping against the overflowing fullness of two thick, calloused digits drawing over that sponge of mystifying bliss.

“Gods, you’re tight.” He muttered darkly, thrusting them as deeply as he could.

“Davos, I think- I think I’m...”

“Let go, my love.” He whispered, his hand moving at an impossible pace. “Cum for me.”

It was those rough-spun words that were her undoing. She seized and gripped the bathtub, rolling over the wave of boiling pleasure. It was a brief thing, a blink of bliss wherein her thoughts were entirely drowned out, clenching rhythmically around his digits until she relaxed, flopping back against his silken torso. His arms found their way around her stomach and he squeezed her tight against him.

“You did so well, sweetling.” He rocked her gently for a while, until she felt strong enough to speak.

“That thing you did for me at the inn,” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “That thing you did with your mouth...”

“I ate out your cunny, sweetling, that’s what I did.” His eyes stirred with lust and mischief. “You want more?”

“No- yes, but no. I want to do it for you. I want to- to…”

“You want to suck my cock?” He put a hand to her cheek, his expression a mix of want and concern. “You don’t have to, Cersha. It’s gruelling work, I should know.”

“What do you mean?”

His cheeks tinted and a strange flash of agony passed over his face before he shook it away.

“Well, I’m no stranger to buggery, but I always preferred the fairer sex. Let’s leave it at that.” She felt a rush of curiosity at his words, and he must have noticed as he sighed moodily. “One day, I’ll tell you about the boy. I promise.” She swallowed her questions and nodded. “Shall we move to the bed?”

She got up eagerly, splattering more water onto the floor as she went, but was slightly alarmed to find her legs were already trembling. She offered Davos her hands, and he eyed them speculatively for a moment. She thought he might try to drag himself up on his own, but he took her help and soon they stood, holding one another as the water rolled off them in rivers. He giggled impishly, kissing her all over and before either of them knew it they were flopping down on the bed, still sopping wet like two otters in heat.

“We’re getting the sheets wet.” She protested weakly.

“We’ll sleep in my chambers.” He muttered, shuffling around until his injured leg had room to stretch out. “The bed is just as soft, if not so lovingly furnished.”

“Are you comfortable?” She fussed, hating the sight of his wound without a bandage. The messy sutures she had administered had been replaced by neat little stitches since they had arrived at Riverrun; the work of a Maester, Cersha supposed.

He put his hand to her cheek, a half-mocking look of amusement on his face.

“I am not made of glass. Now, are you sure you want to do this?” She nodded eagerly, and he guided her face gently downward. “Alright, I’ll show you how.”

She settled herself by his waist and watched, almost in awe, as he spit in his hand and gently tugged his length. The fold of skin pulled back and slipped easily up and down the moist, pink tip. He groaned lightly as he worked on himself, and in a few smooth strokes he had grown stiff and engorged. Cersha felt her mouth water, and was surprised to find that she felt no shame. She knew he would be big- in the pitch dark of that night in the inn, she had felt his impossible length slide through her hand- but nothing could have prepared her to actually see a man’s naked form, and it excited her more than she cared to admit.

“Put your mouth around the tip.” He instructed, using his free hand to gather her hair and hold it at the base of her neck. “Use your lips to block your teeth, that’s it, darling.”

She had to stretch her mouth wide to take him in, but it was worth it for the salty sweetness that spread across her tongue.

“Good girl.” He growled. “Good girl. Now feel around with your tongue. Do you feel that?That ridge, just there, right- right there.”

On the tip of her tongue rested a firm seam of skin, just at the base of the head. She flickered her tongue across it in a rapid flurry, and he whimpered. His hips lifting and an inch more of his length entered her mouth triggering a gulp of surprise.

“Oh, yes. Yes, sweetling that’s it, that’s it, just focus on the head.” With his hand in her hair he tenderly guided her head up and down, up and down, never forcing himself any deeper than she could comfortably take. “Bob your head like that, just take it in and out. You don’t-” He interrupted himself with a weak grimace. “-you don’t have to take it deep. It’s lovely if you do, but… but just do what you can, darling. Keep working with your tongue, you’re doing beautifully my love.”

He relinquished his grip on her hair, trusting her to keep up the rhythm, and wrapped his hand around his shaft, jerking himself into her mouth, while his other hand found his plump stones, rolling them in his palm. Cersha gripped his thighs, growing light-headed as she moaned and slurped around the size of him. It seemed he had given up on words, and instead fell into a frenzy of… moans? No, growls. He was like an animal, half-way between deep rumbles and high keening whines, his hips rolling and thrusting upward, seeming to forget his earlier gentleness. She took him deeper, gagging as he hit the back of her throat. Before she knew it, his hands were on her forehead and he was pushing her off of him.

“Did- did I bite you?” She gasped.

“No! Darling, no, I made you gag.” He struggled to sit up and held her face in his hands, stroking her hair, his face a mask of concern. “I cannot believe I did that, I’m so sorry, Cersha.”

“You didn’t mean to!” She eagerly reached for him again, but he caught her hand and kissed them all over.

“Still.” He implored. “I’m sorry. Besides, we had to stop. I would have finished in your mouth, I’m sure you wouldn’t like that.”

She considered for a moment.

“I… I suppose not.”

His face softened sympathetically.

“I want you to… to, um, to cum, though. It’s only fair.”

He chuckled at her choice of words and kissed her forehead.

“I can use my hand, if only you kiss me while I do it.” He gauged her disappointment with an impish smirk. “Or… I could fuck you, I suppose. If you want me to, that is.”

“Oh, please!”

He tossed his head back and laughed, pulling her into his embrace.

“Oh, my girl…” He pushed her wet hair away from her eyes. “I would work for hours like a draft horse if it would please you.”

He struggled to heave himself up, but she pushed him back by the shoulders. He made a little oof sound and his puggish nose crinkled in annoyance.

“I’m not an invalid.”

“I’d rather it this way.”

A grin dimpled his cheeks and his eyes glittered.

“Oh, really?” She just smiled knowingly and set about piling up pillows behind him to prop him up. He sighed dreamily. “I feel like a princess.”

“Prince of Crows,” She murmured, straddling him. “On a weirwood throne… with…” Her fingertips found his forehead. “…a red eye.”

He noticed her eyes had crossed out of focus, half closed. He took her by the arms and gave her a gentle shake that seemed to rouse her.

“You’re a witch, Bracken.” He laughed, though his heart thundered in his chest.

“I get it from my mother.” She shook her head, giggling nervously. “Anyway…”

Her hand reached between her legs to find his cock, stroking it gently. He laughed airily, happy to forget her strange words. The calloused pads of his fingers found their way to slide along her slit, and he scoffed.

“Gods, you get wet from nothing.” He seemed almost annoyed as he sunk two digits into her with no resistance. “Soaking wet…”

He withdrew and held up his fingers to show the glistening slickness that coated them, then slid them into his mouth. She gasped as he wantonly swirled his tongue around them, and pulled them out with a pop.

“The sweetest I’ve ever tasted.” He told her. “The only one I ever wish to taste again. I suppose mine could not have been such a joy to sample.”

“It was beautiful.” She kissed him, catching the ghost of herself on his lips. “You are beautiful.”

“Ah, I’m a busted old thing.” He flushed, lining himself up with her entrance. “But, thank you all the same, my lady.”

She felt the very tip of him sliding into her, and she hesitated.

“Davos, I… I do not wish to have a child.”

He palmed her cheek, as he loved to do.

“Then no child you shall have. I will spill myself upon your stomach every night until we are married, and every night thereafter until you feel the time is right.”

“And if I do not wish to marry?”

“Then unmarried we shall be.”

“And if I never want a child?” She thought of her mother then, the screams, the smell of blood like iron…

A pained expression crossed his face, but it was gone as soon as it was there.

“Then no child you shall have.”

“Do you promise?”

“On mine honour.” She searched his eyes for a sign of dishonesty, but found none, so she nodded.

She sunk down onto him, feeling her inner muscles clench and tent out as they adjusted to the thickness prising them apart. It hurt, it could not be avoided, his girth was simply too great. At the alert of her pained whimpers, he gripped her hips, holding her up until he was sure she had taken enough time to grow used to the feeling. He held her steady as she incrementally shimmied down, down, down until he bottomed out with an inch or two to spare. She cried out as she felt him pressing his bruising tip into her roof, but by then it had become a good pain, a cleansing pain.

“My girl.” He murmured. “My sweet girl.”

She lifted up from her knees, focusing on that exquisite feeling of his veins and ridges sliding against her walls, then lowered back down. Up and down, up and down, she repeated the action until she noticed he was holding his breath.

“Is that alright?”

“Yes,” He managed to utter, panting. “Gods, you’re just so tight. I can’t… I can’t see myself lasting long at this rate.”

She giggled as he whined, his hands finding her buttocks and bouncing her up and down on his rigid length, deeper and harder until she collapsed against him, grasping him like a tree in a windstorm. She grunted as he adjusted her on his lap and hit that sweet place inside her.

“Oh, fuck!” She hissed.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” His hot breath passed across her ear. “That’s the spot.”

“Oh, gods, Davos…”

He pumped upwards as he bounced her, and she felt his tip rubbing across her sweet spot before it punched against her roof, every single time. It was brutal, yet tender, and she could feel his restraint. She knew then that this man could fuck like an animal if she set him loose.

“You’re my girl.” He insisted. “Say you’re my fucking girl.”

“I’m y-your…” She spluttered. “I’m…”

Suddenly it stopped. He held her up, nothing but the tip left in her. She wriggled in his grasp, desperate for that overwhelming in-out-in-out-in-out.

“Say it, sweetling.” He cooed.

“I-I’m your girl.”

“Fuckin’ aye, you are.”

He plunged her back down, filling her in one thrust. Wave after wave of pleasure built up inside her, pump after pump, after pump until she had to bite into his shoulder to contain the half shrieking moans that had taken over her speech. It was this that broke his restraint, and as his thrusts grew sloppy, he slammed into her, fingers digging into her bony frame so harshly that they would have drawn blood were his nails longer.

“I’m c-”

The climax struck her dumb and she let out a guttural snarl as it seized all sense and reason from her. She clenched on his cock, still incessantly moving inside her, again, again, again, her eyes rolling, white fishes shimmering across her vision, until finally-

“Fuck!”

He pulled out, furiously rubbing his cock as he reached his own peak, his body stiffening and writhing as he spilled his hot seed onto her stomach. When he was done, he paused for a moment, eyes glazed and staring at nothing, until he noticed her and a flash of feeling passed across them. He did not hesitate to pull her to him, the strength of his arms evident as he crushed her against his torso, caring nothing for the stickiness there. It was then that she realised she was weeping. For what, she did not know. Perhaps, just the beauty of it all.

“Shh, shh.” His voice was flute soft again. “My beautiful girl.”

When she had regained some composure, she cleared her throat, forehead resting against his.

“I fear we need another bath.”

Thanks to my lovelies @aemondslove @disillusioned-phantasma @anaviieiraaa @deepestlovert @flordiakilos @kitty2984 @kpopfanfictionfantacies @sometings @nikkilsworld @gladiatorgladiator @borislava17 @oshun22 @spider-stark @marvelenthusiast10 @itsyagirl01 @nixtape-foryou @giggles-andkicks @benijbol @darlingcharling-blog @writervaul-t @kayrakhan @unicorntrooper @frogoerson @aphroditeanadyomene @councilofcastamere @ellxpsismm @teapomp @fuckalrighty for your reblogs and comments! I'm doing it for you guys :)

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fourstarsoutofnine · 3 months ago

Text

To get away

Chapter 4: stay with me, now.

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 3.5

Warnings:fear, anger, infighting…delirium?; mentions of blood, needles, description of inserting stitches, said stitches being ripped out

“Oh Hylia—Din, Nayru, Farore—please, please don’t take her—“ the vet gripped your body tight, tears blurring his vision as everyone ran up, stepping around the bodies of the monsters that surrounded the two of you. He was so sure he failed again. Memories of koholint flooded back to him.

“Vet—sweet Hylia…” the captain’s shout turned to a mere mumble as he ran over, seeing you in the vet’s arms. And almost as disturbing, the vet sobbing over you.

The rest of the team made it to your location, the traveler, the old man, and the captain stood around you and the vet.

“Here, son, let me take her, we need to get her somewhere safe so the traveler can—“ the old man started, but jolted back when the vet whipped his head up, a crazy look in his eyes.

“No! Don’t touch her—she’s hurt!!”

“Vet we need to take her, I can heal her—“ the traveler knelt down and got closer.

“Stay back!!! You don’t—I can’t let her out of my sight again she’s gonna get hurt worse!!!”

The old man took a deep breath and looked at the captain and traveler. The sailor turned his face into the champion’s chest and hugged him tight, tears welling in his eyes. The champion hugged him back tightly, trying to close his ears off to the scene.

“Traveler. Give us a hand.” He said, and the vet looked extremely panicked. His head whipped around to each of them as they closed in on the two of you.

“What—no—what’re you doing—get back!!” He shouted.

“I’m sorry.” The traveler said and put a hand on his head, a pink, sparkly, dusty magic flowed from his hands and the vet’s eyes got heavy before he fell asleep. The traveler caught him and the captain picked you up.

“We’re losing time, we need to get her back to the inn.” The captain said, keeping pressure on your wound.

“Right. Hurry, everyone!” The old man said, picking the vet up. “Back to the inn!”

The chain booked it back, running faster than they felt they ever had before. The captain laid you down in a bed and the traveler got to work healing you. The vet was laid down by your side, nearest the wall. You wouldn’t be out of his sight when he woke…

Now, we play the waiting game.

. ݁₊ ✶. ݁ ˖ˎˊ˗ . ݁₊ ✶. ݁ ˖ˎˊ˗ . ݁₊ ✶. ݁ ˖ ☾ ˎˊ˗ . ݁₊ ✶. ݁ ˖ˎˊ˗ . ݁₊ ✶. ݁ ˖ˎˊ˗ . ݁₊ ✶. ݁ ˖ˎ

The traveler had worked over you for hours, healing magic flowing from his fingertips, but he could only exert so much energy for so long. He’d exhausted himself just as your wound was stitching itself closed.

“I—“ he stuttered out breathlessly. “I can’t—“ he braced himself against the side of the bed. The smith pulled a chair up for him.

“It’s okay. You did what you could. I can get the rest.” He pulled a little sewing kit out of his bag and grabbed some fishing wire from the rancher’s bag. He went to heat the needle up to sterilize it. He crawled up onto the bed, keeping the needle steady in his hands as he did, and sat between your legs to stitch up the wound on your side.

He leaned over you and carefully pushed the needle through, trying to steel his nerves. He’d sewn things up before, but never a person. Safe to say he was terrified. Vio and Green tried to concentrate, blinking away the tears Red had welled in his eyes, and Blue had don’t mess up don’t mess up repeating in his head. He got a few stitches in before a loud gasp was heard.

You sprang back to life and sat up, eyes wide.

“Y/n—its—it’s okay lay back down—“ he stuttered, but you didn’t listen. You were in a state of shock. Pure, pain filled panic. You pushed him off of you with your foot, managing to rip out the stitches in the process. A scream bubbled up in your chest, tears streaming down your face as you grabbed your side tightly. The others in the room moved to subdue you so the smith could finish up, albeit crudely, stitching you together. But when they pulled your hands back, there was no wound there. Just a bloody spot where it used to be. The blood looked to be mainly from your hands, where you’d grabbed it in the first place.

“What—??” The captain muttered confusedly

“Please—get off of me—“ you struggled under the rancher’s grasp, eyes a bright green. Almost neon. He gasped and backed up.

“How did you do that? How did you heal?”

“I-I don’t know, I just—did?? I put my hands on it and when you guys took them off I was fine—“

“Your eyes are glowing green!” The sailor grinned, amazed.

“What..?” You got up to look in a mirror. You caught just the tail end of the glow before your eyes turned back to their original color. When you looked down at the triforce mark on your hand, it had been glowing as well.

“Must have something to do with this…” you showed it to them.

“Has to be.” The old man said. “Seems we have yet another mystery to solve.”

“Add it to the pile.” The smith sighed. The vet turned over in bed and opened his eyes before realizing what had happened. His eyes widened and he sat up.

“Y/n?? Where is she—“ his eyes settled on you and he breathed a relieved sigh. “You’re alright…”

“I am..” you smiled nervously. Last thing you’d heard from him was him wanting rid of you…

“…good.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t wander off again, that was stupid. You’re smarter than that.” He looked away from you.

“…thank you..?” You huffed a confused laugh. The air in the room got lighter as everyone laughed along—but they knew. They knew how he really felt. It was only a matter of time to see if he’d make it known to you.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu four #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu wind #lu twilight #lu sky #lu time #lu wild #lu wars #Lu warriors #farore au

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vhstown · 1 year ago

Text

ain't no love; pt. 2

"ain't no love in the heart of town"

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SUMMARY: Miles Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, and the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 →

chapter summary: [MILES POV] Miles thinks there's something sinister going on at Visions. But first, he has to ask you out — to a job fair.

content/warnings: mentions of food/hunger, implied kidnapping, use of drugs (not by miles or reader) and there are some word meanings at the end!

word count: 4.7k

a/n: never thought id make it this far. 2/4 yo! thank you @qiupachups for proofreading 🙏 my g fr

“Take your headphones out.”

“~Ain’t no love… in the hear–”

Miles slipped his earbud out before putting his hand into his pocket again; it’d go back in once he left the counsellor’s office anyhow. First, he had to deal with the woman in front of him — Ms. Weber, the woman he’d been avoiding all week.

“Why didn’t you come to see me yesterday?” The woman peered at him through her red-framed glasses. Her disapproving gaze was one Miles was yet to get used to.

“Had to uh, see a teacher.” Her gaze became more disbelieving than disapproving. It was true, though, his calc teacher wasn’t the only faculty member he seemed to be annoying today.

“Right, and they didn’t tell you to take out your headphones?” The woman leaned over on her desk much like Mr. Wellston had, except it actually had the intended effect, like he was talking to his mother; Miles fumbled a bit with the earbud in his pocket. “We need to discuss your extracurriculars.”

“Do I need extracurriculars? I mean, I kinda already got some.”

“Such as?”

“An extra calc class. And Spanish catch-up. And English—”

“Something that isn’t to do with your academics, Miles — hence extra-curricular. College applications are right around the corner.”

“I’m doin’ fine right now,” he shrugged. Weber didn’t look very impressed.

“If you wanna go out of state, "fine" isn’t enough. You’re not the only kid applying.”

“Not like I said that.” He leaned back, making his chair creak loudly.

Talking to Ms. Weber felt like a chore. Sure, she had his best interest at heart, but she’d never know the half of it. His cooperativeness was running thin as the ache in his muscles worsened — if only Aaron didn’t make him get so serious all of a sudden. Miles couldn't listen to everyone, he guessed.

The woman leaned forward, tilting her head, maybe for emphasis. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Miles.”

Leaning back wasn’t helping with the soreness, or Ms. Weber. “Not if there was no cake to begin with.”

She let out a breath, a more civil version of the loud sigh building up in Miles’ lungs. “How about this? You try your hand at some volunteering.”

“Volunteering?” He was already sure that he wouldn’t bother. He did plenty volunteering already — if illegal vigilantism counted.

“There’s a careers fair for freshmen soon. It’d look good on your application if you helped to organise.”

“Aren’t teachers supposed to do that?”

“I’m right in front of you.” Her tone was drier than his.

“You’re just a counsellor though—” Miles’ lips pressed together, Ms. Weber’s eyes narrowing at him. He didn’t want the same fate that guy had calling his mom “just a nurse”, but it came out before he could stop himself.

“The week after winter break,” she continued. Being a counsellor was less stressful than a nurse, it seemed.

Winter break was after this week — that was when he’d finally stop training for a little while. The week after was the job fair, and…

“So it’s just me that’s doin’ it?”

The counsellor contemplated for a moment, her own lips pursing. “You could ask someone to do it with you. One of your friends, maybe.”

Like he had one of those.

“Huh? What’d you say? Someone’s waiting? You got friends?”

“Miles, c’mon.”

Maybe he did.

“Yeah, fine — I’ll do it,” he muttered. Weber’s expression relaxed, as much as it could with that gruff air still about her.

“Okay, good. Just bring your friend here after school.” Miles simply nodded — now with another thing to think about. “You can go back to lunch.”

He got out of the chair, his hand already on the door handle before Weber spoke again.

“Well done on coming in, by the way.” Miles turned back for a moment, mumbling something like a thanks. He tried not to feel weird about the odd sincerity of her words as he walked through the hallways.

“~Ain’t no love, and in the heart of the city…”

Miles had a lot to think about in general, but only about 20 minutes to think about what he was going to say to you. He also thought about what he was going to eat later — maybe his mom made something. He hoped his uncle didn’t finish the stew. At least his stomach didn’t grumble… Miles tried not to smile, even if nobody was watching.

Though he wanted to talk to you outside of class, he never really had any excuse. The only reason he’d talked to you at all was because that Rafa asshole decided bothering Mrs. Hernandéz wasn’t enough. Miles wasn’t stupid, but Rafael had drawn a massive red target on his own back. It was a miracle that you decided to say something, for Miles and Rafael.

A little height difference wouldn’t make his ankles any harder to break. He half-shook away the thought. No need to get expelled when he had to be here for long enough to confirm his suspicions.

“He went missing, and now he’s teaching calculus at Visions?”

“Yup.”

“That’s my high school.”

“…Jeff did us a service with these files, huh man?”

And so Miles had gone to Mr. Wellston’s classroom with you. It only left him with more questions.

Wellston almost seemed askance when you two walked in together — he didn’t even mention Miles’ earbud. The man was reluctant to let Miles take the extra class with you, for some reason, but Miles could play dumb when he needed to. Something about the whole arrangement was off to him — like it had set off a sixth sense Miles didn’t have.

Really and truly, you were just some kid from his class that happened to be caught up in all of this. If he had a reason, he’d tell you to not go to that stupid class in the first place. He was probably a better tutor anyway — Wellston didn’t seem like the teacher type anyway.

But he was just some kid from your class too — Miles Morales. Gonzalo Morales, though he doubted you knew, or cared. Probably the only person who knew his middle name was his mom; she was always talking about it, his name — to be proud. He had his mother’s last name for a reason, one he never knew about until Aaron told him: keeping him away from crime — his dad’s side. If only she knew what he was up to now.

If only his dad knew what he was up to now.

Miles Gonzalo Morales — whoever that was, was sweating a little at the moment. That was walking quickly, not because he had to figure out what to say in the next 10 seconds. Talking to you? No big deal. He’d done it before… once.

Miles had talked to you once. This past week, all he’d learnt about you was your first name and the fact that you sucked at using your calculator.

Hunched over a textbook with a crumpled up juice box in your hand, Miles spotted you sitting by yourself in the corner of the cafeteria. It’d be an easy conversation: he could bring up the textbook and talk to you alone. The pang of embarrassment that shot through him said otherwise. You looked like you did in Spanish, quiet, focused, a little stressed — like the sketch of you that was crumpled up in his blazer pocket. In the sketch, you were facing away. Right now, your eyes were on him. Mier— (Shi—)

“Can you move?” Miles hastily stepped away, realising he was blocking the line. He tried not to catch the girl’s annoyed stare, and the many others, holding back his grimace and heading for your table.

He sat opposite you; the seat was cold, and he wished he’d brought his jacket. What if it looked like he was shaking, or something? This was stupid. It wasn’t that cold. Just ask, dumbass.

“Hey uh, pana.” Your eyes were on his again, and he tried to smile. “You studyin’?”.

“Trying to.” Gaze trailing back to the textbook, you closed it with a sigh he could only imagine with his music playing in-between the cafeteria noise.

The cover read “AP CALCULUS BC: 1st Edition” — he knew there were at least ten revisions. Maybe you liked collecting old textbooks like he did old comics — that’d be stupid.

“Still don’t know how you got six.” He took out his earphone, before realising what you meant.

“Litres per hour,” he corrected, immediately feeling like punching himself for it. “Could explain it… if you want.” The cold plastic cafeteria bench dug into his palm as his grip on it tightened. Miles Morales — Brooklyn’s only vigilante, and now an AP Calc tutor

“Uh, sure.” You took out a pencil, which clattered far too loudly on the table. He watched you grit your teeth at the sound before giving him an expectant, somewhat unsure look. Miles took the pencil in his hand and started scribbling in the back page of the textbook, with you watching intently.

It was slightly warm, and wrote nicely — would probably draw nicely too. Not important. Just solve the damn thing.

“Why does this equal to the derivative, though?” you interrupted, pointing at the garble of letters and numbers. He had to hold back a sigh, like he wasn’t the one to offer you help. If there’s one thing he didn’t get from his mom, that was his patience — no wonder she was a nurse and he wasn’t a tutor.

“Cause if you take g of x as like, let’s say v or sumn’…” he murmured, brows knitting together as he scribbled out a couple more lines on the side. Rewriting the equation, he glanced at you occasionally, hoping you were getting it.

“Wait, wait, so…”

A flash of realisation came over your face before you abruptly took the pencil from his hand, making his jaw clench as your hand brushed his. You continued the line of working, explaining it to yourself while Miles gave quiet “yeah”s and nods.

“Then all of that should equal six.” The pencil dropped with a quiet thud, rolling onto the inside of the textbook. “Litres per hour,” you added quickly, giving him a meek smile.

“…Yeah. You got it.” Miles could only hold your gaze for a moment, until the eagerness in your eyes had dissipated, and the two of you were left staring at each other. The bend of his knees practically hooked around the seat as he reeled back, realising he’d been leaning over a little too close.

Miles cleared his throat, pushing the textbook back towards you. “You get it now?”

“Yeah.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up; maybe you were a little proud of yourself. All you needed was a little guidance — and he was able to make you understand. He smiled — mentally, of course. Miles Morales — best AP Calc tutor in Brookly—

“Did you need something?”

“Uh, yeah actually, uh…”

Uhhhhhh…

“Uh…?” you repeated.

Miles held his breath; maybe some survival instinct would force him to spit it out. How was he supposed to say this?

“You free? In a couple weeks?”

“…Huh?” Your eyes widened. The cafeteria seemed to go silent.

Definitely not like that.

“Uh, like, for a… volunteer thing,” he corrected, hastily. The way he grit his teeth made his voice sound funny. Nice going, Morales. “I’m doing it. Just thought I’d ask.”

“Oh, um…” Your eyes narrowed in thought, as Miles recovered from un-asking you out. “Maybe? What’s it for?”

“Some job fair — for freshmen.” Your expression turned uncertain. Miles bit the inside of his lip so hard he thought he might split it

“Um…” The way your eyes narrowed was making doubt pool in his stomach. “You know what? Yeah, sure.”

“Really?” Yes, you idiot. “I mean, uh cool.”

“Cool…”

The cleaners were starting to wipe away at the tables. No wonder it seemed so silent — most people had left. “So what do I have to do?” you

“You gotta go to the counsellor’s office after school. We’re gonna uh, help organise and stuff.” He swallowed dry. As much as he didn’t want to be the kid that was always in the counsellor’s office, it wasn’t like he could avoid it. You didn’t ever mention it, but it’s not like anyone did outright.

“Okay,” you nodded simply, letting out a sigh and throwing the ancient textbook into your bag. Miles stood up after you, flexing his sore, bench-marked hand.

“Are you sure you wanna go to that calc class?” you asked, making him look up.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice — but you didn’t know that. “If you go to that fair.”

You smiled again, probably at the situation — maybe at him.

“Deal. See you Friday.” You waved, and Miles let out a sigh as you walked away.

Being a vigilante was way easier than talking to people.

“~When you were mine, oh I was feeling so good…”

The rest of the day dragged on with the soft kick of bass and the hum of a guitar in his ear. The only thing Miles could think about was the fact that he had to meet you after school. The fact that you said yes surprised him. You were classmates, acquaintances at most — maybe you could actually live up to the “pana” thing.

“~Cause your love lit up, the whole neighbourhood…”

“Miles — question eight?” Miles lifted his head from the desk, staring at the question sheet for a moment.

“Uh… forty two thousand,” he guessed, eyes narrowing at Ms. Calleros in a mix of doubt and hope.

“Forty two thousand what?”

“Six… Litres per hour.”

“Lit— Joules,” he stuttered out.

“…Yeah. You got it.”

Damn it.

RIIIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIIIING! Miles was thinking about you too much, and thinking about AP Physics too little.

“Remember your homework due next week!” his teacher called out as everyone scrambled to pack up and leave.

Miles let himself sigh; it was one of many he wanted to let out today. He drew his hand away from the ear with his earbud in. At the same time, he locked eyes with his teacher. Mierda. (Shit.)

She gestured for him to come to her desk with a not-so entertained look on her face. Nothing new, he supposed.

“You know you can’t have your headphones in during class,” she started, glancing at his palm with the earbud in it.

It was faintly murmuring. Miles just awkwardly pressed the pause button.

“I know.”

“There seems to be a lot you know and don’t put into practice, Miles.” It was like every teacher was out to get him. Guess he wasn’t being as sneaky about the music as he thought.

“Sorry,” he offered, half-heartedly. Might as well get this over with.

“What were you listening to?” she asked, eyebrow lightly raised. “Apart from my lesson.”

“Uh… don’t know the name.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s been playing all class.” And since lunch — he hadn’t bothered to turn it off. He didn’t know it was that loud, though.

“I gotta to go to the counsellor’s office…” Miles said in a way that sounded more like a question. He pointed to the door like it would help.

“And I have to go to a meeting, but here I am.” She readjusted her glasses, looking at him curiously — maybe more knowingly.

“Is something wrong? You’ve been pretty quiet today.”

“Nah. Just tired today,” he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. There was an unconvincing beat of silence, before she unfolded her arms.

“…Well, I hope you feel more energetic soon.” Miles just nodded, making his way to the door.

Gracias a Dios… (Thank God.) She was leaving him alone.

“Oh, and good job on the quiz — one of the highest in this class.” Miles bit back the fleeting warmth in his cheeks, digging his hands further into his pockets.

“Thanks.”

Sometimes it was hard to remember that he wasn’t the Prowler all the time. Right know, he was just a kid: a kid who listened to his uncle’s favourite tracks and lived in a box with his mom in the city he called home — a city that was falling apart day by day.

“Miles!” That kid. That’s who he was — Miles Morales. And you were just you, jogging right behind him.

Stealing a glance of your expression — and hopefully nothing more — he kept ahead of you as the two of you walked to the counsellors office. Neither of you had anything to say, but Miles had so much to think about. You agreed to do the fair with him; maybe he shouldn’t have asked — he wasn’t here to make friends, after all. But you were here now, and he didn’t hesitate when he knocked on the door to the counsellors office.

“Come in!”

There was a screech of chairs as you two sat opposite the guidance counsellor, who was tapping away at her keyboard as usual. Miles’ eyes met yours for a brief second, and when you gave him a smile, he spent so long debating on whether or not to return it with his own that Ms. Weber had already placed a stack of freshly-printed papers on her desk.

“Firstly, you’re going to have to post these around school.” Miles looked at the obnoxiously modern and colourful posters, with “FRESHMAN CAREERS FAIR” in a dull font that was meant to look modern. He could probably make a better version himself, but he’d rather not spend any more time on the fair than he had to.

“I have a question,” you interrupted, straining to try and be polite. “Is this something I can put on my college application?”

“I’d assume so, since your friend is doing it for his,” Ms. Weber replied, glancing unassumingly at Miles through her red-framed glasses.

Like I wasn’t forced to. But you weren’t forced to. You chose to do this — for your… college application. Right.

“Okay, got it.” You nodded, letting Weber continue.

“Secondly, there’s a list of start-ups that will be here on the day. You should familiarise yourselves with them — you could find a useful connection.” Weber put a white piece of paper with some writing on top of the stack of posters.

“The ones that are highlighted are places we haven’t contacted yet.” There were only a few different businesses marked in yellow, one of which had “OSCORP” written next to it.

“Oscorp?” You seemed to notice too. Miles could only narrow his eyes.

“Their junior apprenticeship program starts soon” Weber explained, looking at Miles for a moment. “Maybe you should apply — especially you, Morales.”

Like Miles would ever work for Oscorp. They were the reason that his mom’s hospital was so underfunded. Unfortunately for him, he was supposed to pay them a visit anyway, regardless of how much he wanted to get into that tech school out of state.

“The fair’s going to be the Tuesday after winter break. Don’t forget.” She was looking more at Miles than you.

“Got it… Thank you, Ms…?” you trailed off, giving her a hopeful look.

She tapped sharply at the nameplate propped up on her desk. “Weber.”

“Ms. Weber,” you mirrored, nodding again and offering an awkward smile. “Thank you — we’ll try our best.

The two of you stepped out of the office, glancing at each other for a moment too long as you made it a couple of metres from the door.

“So uh…” you started. “Could I get your number?” …Huh?!

“Uh, I mean, like, so we can stay in contact,” you backtracked, trying not to grimace. “I mean, in case we need to talk over winter break.” He almost mirrored your grimace before nodding.

“Yeah, here.” Miles handed you his phone, careful to avoid brushing your hand this time before taking yours. He typed in his number, and then “Miles M.”

When he got his phone back, all you’d put in was your number. Without thinking, he typed in four letters: Pana. He slipped his phone in his pocket before he could question himself.

An extra class on Friday — with his pana. Miles could only rub his temples at the thought.

This whole school thing had gone farther than he’d hoped.

“As you exit, please be careful of the gap between the platform and the—”

Miles held back a grunt as people shoved past to leave the train carriage, eyes searching for you as he was practically being bounced around. If it wasn’t for Mr. Wellston’s useless rambling, he wouldn’t be going home on a Friday during rush hour, let alone on the last day before winter break.

“Stand clear of the closing doors, please.”

The top of your backpack peeked out and just as quickly disappeared as someone in office wear, and an enormous jacket, ploughed through right before the doors closed; he could hear your stumble.

“Cabrón… (Asshole…)” Miles muttered under his breath.

Truthfully, he’d passed his stop ages ago, but he wasn’t about to let you go home alone this late. He hadn’t even been this far down the line before, but he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. Every night since you two went to the counsellor’s office, he’d been up, slinking through Brooklyn in his Prowler suit. People like you wouldn’t know, of course, but both Miles and his Uncle were picking up on things. With those dusty old police reports, the slew of missing people didn’t seem like much of a coincidence — and Miles didn’t think this “class” was one either.

In fact, Wellston himself didn’t seem like someone who was right to teach AP Calc. He certainly didn’t seem like the teacher type, and apart from that first class Miles had attended, all he really gave at this point were packs to do. And in that extra class of his, it was the exact same thing — except for that fact that he seemed to do everything to keep the two of you there.

“Are you sure you get it?” — “How did you get that number?” — “Where’s your calculator, Morales?”. Miles got you two out of there as fast as possible. At one point, he’d even written answers on your worksheet while Wellston wasn’t paying attention.

It was a hunch at most, but he’d always take his dad’s advice in stride, no matter how often he used to say it.

“Trust your gut, Miles.”

He wasn’t being over-protective, he was being cautious—

“What’s your problem, man?” Miles’ core tensed — like he’d done when training. He looked over to see you, and a total stranger.

“You got a place to be, huh? Can’t look where you’re goin’?”

Miles squeezed through a blockade of people to see you just standing there, unable to reply as a man blew up at you for seemingly no reason. The man’s words were getting progressively worse, his voice louder and his face so close to yours it made Miles cringe. The man’s eyes seemed to bulge out, but he wasn’t looking at you — or anything, really. He was clearly on drugs.

Miles was meant to get groceries for his mom. He kissed his teeth at the memory. Damn Wellston — and this guy.

The carriage was pretty much empty, being at the last few stops. Of course nobody cared when it came to stuff like this. Miles watched the veins in the man’s neck tighten, and his teeth were gritted together so hard it hurt to look at. He stopped his fist from clenching — he’d rather not start a fight with a junkie.

“Oy.” He put his hand on your shoulder, avoiding the man’s eyes. “Let’s get off here.”

“Wh—”

“Stand clear of the closing doors, please.” You two were out in about a second before the doors shut between you and the man, now violently knocking against the glass.

Holding onto your jacket, Miles kept you from falling as the train zipped past, the junkie long gone. He let out a sigh, eyes squeezing shut. This train station was stupidly bright.

“What was that for?” you asked, brows knitting together. “We could’ve just, I dunno, walked to a different carriage.”

“You serious?”

“The next train’s in…” Both of your eyes went to the screen, and you frowned. “20 minutes, Miles.”

“Well you would’ve had exactly zero minutes if that guy tried something.”

“Okay, that’s too far. There were other people—”

“They wouldn’t have done shit.” His annoyance only grew, and he couldn’t hold back when you were looking at him like that. “Where do you live? Cause it’s not Brooklyn — nobody gives a damn here.”

People were starting to look at you. “Are you gonna let go of my arm or what?”

Miles’ hand fell from your shoulder. He bit the inside of his cheek, his own heartbeat only muffled by the sound of the train approaching on the other platform.

“Do you really live that far?”

“Yes?” You said, almost incredulously. “Like, two stations away from here.”

“Then we’re walking.”

Your head snapped back to look at him. “Seriously?”

“You want me to leave you here?”

It came out more like a threat than a question. The realisation made Miles’ eye twitch, but that only served to make him look more pissed.

“Go on,” you replied, your expression lacking any conviction.

“Cabezón…” he muttered to himself, before turning to walk to the exit.

“What was that?”

Miles kept walking, and the sound of your footsteps a couple seconds later made him breath a sigh of relief. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he was almost certain someone was watching you back there.

When you both got to the gates, he waited before pulling you through the emergency exit with him. Despite your protest, you followed him through it, blending into the crowd of people leaving and entering the station. Metro cards were a waste of money anyway.

It was a long, silent and somewhat unsettling walk. Miles had been through every corner of Brooklyn, and right here was about where he’d start looking behind his back, even as the Prowler. For some reason, you just had to live a light year away from school and in one of the worst neighbourhoods in this damned concrete jungle.

Despite the regret building in his stomach from how he’d talked to you, he was forcing more rational concerns into his head: the turns you were taking, the people they passed, how close he should stay to you. All of it was habitual at this point, but he couldn’t risk being caught off-guard, especially when every adult man you passed was starting to look a bit too much like Wellston. If you were closer, maybe he could’ve kept an arm around you, or something. Good thing his mom wasn’t here to beat his ass for thinking like an idiot.

Trying not to imagine his mom’s voice, Miles kept just a few inches behind you, right until you reached the front door.

“…Thanks.” He couldn’t read your expression — when was the last time he overthought something?

“Don’t worry about it.”

There was another beat of silence, interrupted only by the “beep!” of your electronic key fob at the door.

“See you.” Your voice echoed through the hall, followed by footsteps as the door slowly shut in front of him. “Be safe.”

Like he needed to be told that. “…You too.”

Miles lingered by the door, looking at you for a moment longer before he forced himself to turn away. Almost immediately after, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket — Uncle Aaron.

42nd street

Special delivery for your ma

A supply interception — his mom’s hospital was probably short by now. Miles squeezed his eyes shut, blinking away the exhaustion before replying.

omw Delivered

His day hadn’t ended yet — not by a long shot. The Prowler was always on the clock.

pana = casual term used to refer to friends, means "buddy" or "pal" (used in puerto rico, venezuela etc)

cabezón = means "stubborn" or "big-headed"

from here on out it's just straight up drafting cause i wrote part 1 and 2 ages ago but i don't have anything for part 3 and 4 so !!!!

upload schedule if you didn't know is gonna be: this series one week and then a random one shot the next week (so hopefully ill post part 3 in around 2 weeks? im DROWNING in school work atm so don't hope too hard...) anyways have a good one ^^

reblogs appreciated as always <3 go back to the series masterlist here or go to my atsv masterlist here!

#miles g morales x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles x reader #miles g morales #miles g #42!miles #miles gonzalo morales #prowler miles #atsv x you #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #vhstown

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easy-there-leftovers · 1 year ago

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I See You, Darling (Masterlist)

"Bestow upon me, my dearest, the fortitude for this journey, and shield me from the shadows of malice. For in your embrace, I discover my sanctuary."

Playlists: » Please. See Me, Darling - “Now, tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day.” “By the gods above, you’re beautiful, you magnificent bastard.” » ISY,D; The Soundtrack - "My thoughts go out to you, my immortal beloved… I can live only wholly with you or not at all…"

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

The original prompt

Now on Ao3

Chapter 1 - A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to. Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.

Chapter 2 - The reader believes they are in a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time their fantasies conjured up such an obscure, yet somehow realistic scene. And so they’ve elected to treat the experience with as much realism as one would observe in a dream; little to none.

Chapter 3 - As an outsider to most of everyone’s problems, you find your place by helping in whatever way you can. Even if that may be at the expense of your own comfort, but at least it’s been fun so far.

Chapter 4 - A party is being held at the camp in the heroes’ honor, which greets you with a lively crowd that you’ll hopefully meet again soon. And with a gathering this large, you’re bound to garner attention. But with a constitution as poor as yours from the night before, a round of drinks is the last thing you want.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

In abit of a rut, so do forgive me for the lack of a proper update. Instead, have this little gift!! Two playlists; taking into consideration the different appraoches to different perspectives.

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, @auszimbo, @maruichio, @iamsexytrash, @craig-mywifeisdead-boone, @grimissleepy, @fandomsfanman, @bitchyzombienacho, @r1kk, @ancuninstar, and @izuoyarmin for asking to be tagged for the series.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #aware!astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #astarion x mc #bg3 x reader isekai(?)#astarion playlist

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moonbaby26 · 4 months ago

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Title: New Day

(Chapter 15 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, non con, dubious consent, fingering, vaginal sex, anal sex, angst, references to past chapters’ physical abuse, toxic relationship

Chapter Synopsis: The day after your near fatal incident instigated by Sir Crocodile, the rumor mill is churning both within and outside the palace walls as everyone now tries to understand what you really are to Doflamingo. Everyone including the demon at the center of it all himself.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

——————————

It was a brand new morning. A beautiful day with the sun shining as the dark haired woman strode through the outdoor market. Even this early, music was already drifting from nearby, guitar strings were strumming as vendors finished setting up for their day.

Despite the rising tempo of that musician’s fingers over those strings, no one Viola saw was yet in a hurry. No one seemed nervous. She could hear laughter as people greeted one another, passing in the street. She could see their smiles.

This was her island and her people, briefly feeling to her as they always should have.

The Donquixote soldiers that were meant to be acting as her guards, she’d ordered to stay as far back from her as possible.

They would not be ruining this rare taste of freedom for her as she did come upon an older man seated on a stool with a guitar. The origin of the sound she’d been hearing for several minutes on her morning walk as she nodded down to him.

“Good morning, Señor. That song you were playing, it’s a favorite of mine. I was hoping to meet you.” She complimented him.

“Ah, you’re too young to know it.” He paused, a little surprised at her attention. But smiling gently at her all the same. “My wife taught it to me years ago. She sang and I played back then.”

And the way he said this, with that brief look in his eyes as he did, she knew what he really meant.

A wife that was no longer here. Someone that had been taken from him. But Viola still smiled softly. Because that sadness wasn’t an emotion she would want to truly lose. It was the shadow that love left behind. It was all they had left.

“My sister and I would attempt to sing that song.” She shared with him in return. “But she was the far better singer than me. She passed two years ago.”

This was the polite way people in Dressrosa referenced that tumultuous time, when hell had first opened its gates within their country.

And that devil’s sycophants were now the ones lingering, growing further impatient a few food stalls away.

But Doflamingo’s guards could wait. They could wait forever for all she cared.

“I suppose I haven’t tried much since then…to sing I mean. So would you play that song one more time please, Señor? It’s been so long. But today seems a bit special I think. I’d like to try to sing it again.” She told him.

And he laughed. “You young people and your romantic hearts! I’m sure you’ll be at the colosseum with all of the others today then? It seems quite fast doesn’t it? But I suppose no man wants to be alone forever. Even a king!” Yet he didn’t leave her time to agree or disagree, amused at her as he began strumming those opening chords once more.

A surprise announcement had come from the palace last night. Spreading quickly across the island all before midnight curfew.

This afternoon all were invited, or rather expected at the Corrida Colosseum. And the king himself would be in attendance. Unusual as of late, as he’d been devoting so much time to his growing underworld alone.

Those secret dealings seemingly his only focus all until that trip he’d taken to Mariejois, to the kingdom some called heaven. Something about a war on a distant island that he didn’t want the marines interceding in. Long enough ago now that Viola had gotten to bear witness to the accumulating changes in him every day since.

“In the heavens I would have power…” Viola’s voice began carefully, not fully out of tune. But certainly out of practice as she began the first verse in time with the man’s guitar.

And you, the marine woman that the officers’ whispers and minds had said Doflamingo had actually coveted for years, the one he’d first consummated with there at the home of the gods, would also be his official guest at the colosseum this evening.

Speculation was running wild through the citizens now of what this could all mean.

In the beginning Viola had not cared, except to pity you. She knew that all Doflamingo was was the thin skin of a man pulled tightly over the bones of a demon.

Yet an incident had occurred at the palace yesterday, enough to shake even her cynical heart.

“This night like the darkness within a well. With a knife made of moonlight I would cut the bars of your jail...” Her words kept on.

Doflamingo had kept her hidden away ever since your arrival. Yet more evidence that something may really be different here.

He didn’t want her to know his real plans for you. He didn’t want the two of you to meet.

Not yet.

“If I were the queen of the daylight, of the wind, and the sea, I would tie my own slave ropes in exchange for your freedom…”

The man who had never once hesitated to punish her by showing her the most grotesque and violent thoughts of what he’d like to do to new prey had suddenly been keeping everything to himself.

Why should it matter for her to know exactly how he wanted to break you? Rape you and defile you. Grind your will to dust, and then discard you once bored as he had to so many other men and women that had briefly caught his eye.

“Ay sorrow, little sorrow, sorrow of my heart…”

Doflamingo was a passionate man, even a romantic one in truth. But just at that most carnal level she had thought.

“I don’t wan’t flowers, money, or adulation.”

Violence, seduction, and jealousy were the only notes he excelled at within that complicated dance.

But yesterday there had been a culmination of tensions. Viola had been astonished to hear that panic going through the castle, to see it in so many anxious minds.

You had fought Trebol. You had fought Doflamingo himself.

And suicide is what that choice was, no matter the circumstances. Because it had never mattered to Doflamingo before whether or not someone was innocent. To go against the executives in any way, even in self defense, was absolute suicide. It was an attack on Doflamingo himself.

But maybe you weren’t the coward that she felt she was to hide amongst them. Maybe you had already refused her fate and chosen your own exit instead.

She would not have blamed you.

Yet all evening she had stressed. Wondering how Doflamingo would cover up your death. But every moment that she still even remembered who you were had been equally confusing.

Why hadn’t he at least brought you to Sugar?

But finally, late that night, something in her had insisted she show a bit of her own remnants of a spine. She had dared to use her sight to scan the palace for the king or yourself and learn the truth. She’d expected the worst. Your body torn apart, and new horrific tortures she’d never be able to unsee.

Yet that was not what she had found.

“I want you to let me cry for your sorrows, and to be at your side my dear, drinking the tears of your loneliness…”

Doflamingo was with you, yes. But not in one of the dungeons. Not with you screaming or begging for him to stop and to release you with death at last.

The Heavenly Demon had been curled around you in his own bed, clinging to you with a seeming level of anxiety she’d never witnessed in that creature before.

He had been watching you as you slept, a stricken look on his face.

“My eyes hurt because I look without seeing you…”

And this was the real reason Viola now spun, unable to stop from finally dancing a bit as well in the continued rhythm of that man’s guitar.

“Sorrow of my heart that flows within my veins, with the strength of a hurricane…”

Doflamingo was afraid.

“Sorrow, the same as a cloud of darkness and flint. A runaway colt that knows not where it goes…”

Doflamingo had a weakness at last.

“It’s a desert of sand, sorrow, it’s my glory in a jail. Ay, jail! Ay sorrow! Little sorrow…”

And it was a woman.

Viola had decided that she would do everything in her power to further your influence now.

She would force herself to live long enough to see if this little crack in him could spread.

A new opening in his blackened heart that may one day be big enough to force her dagger through.

———————————

Last night Doflamingo had remained strange. Mostly silent as his focus stayed split between his real body and what you assumed was the string clone still working for him somewhere else in the castle.

After making you eat, there had been that brief feel of tenderness though as you’d both undressed and he’d brought you into his shower.

The same powder of glass that’d still been in your hair from the fight, he’d then helped you to wash clean.

That and Trebol’s remaining mucus too. The warlord had kept you from losing your balance on your still weak legs, standing in the water’s spray with you as you’d scrubbed off the last of that residue.

You’d felt his cock against you too, half hard again without either of you even speaking to one another. But he hadn’t fucked you.

After drying back off, drinking, and eating more of the food his servants brought, you’d then fallen asleep nude in his bed even before the sun had set.

At times last night you’d felt his movements beside you. But he still didn’t talk. He didn’t make you open your eyes and interact with him.

And you were fine with that.

He’d already hurt you enough for one day. You’d had nothing else you wanted to give him as you’d kept up the imitation of sleep while he’d held you tightly.

The same as he still was now as you finally did look to the ceiling again. Just the faintest bit of new sunlight was escaping the edges of his closed curtains.

It remained dim here within his bedroom, cave like really as you felt his steady breathing against your skin. His face buried against your neck, his arms wrapped around your torso, and his legs curled up to trap your own.

But your body still ached. Now with those newest additions of a severely bruised sternum and ribs to match from you taking his hits nearly full on yesterday without armament.

He’d never given any further apology either. And the more you’d thought of even that briefest one, you’d realized it was only a-

Sorry I misread that situation.

Sorry their mistakes made me do that.

Not actual self-accountability. Not even a hint that he wouldn’t do it all again if fed bad information once more.

And you were stuck still reliving it. Hearing the door rip apart, and the glass break as he came for you, The pain when he threw you down and the pressure when you couldn’t breathe.

But that would fade as the bruises did. You knew in time you’d move on from that. Just like anytime you’d been hurt in the field, anytime you’d been knocked down before.

The thing you couldn’t shake as cleanly was how much it hurt inside as well this time. Because it wasn’t just physical pain any longer.

It’d hurt to look up at the man you still wanted as they’d started to crush your chest in.

That was a torture that should never happen to anyone.

But something touched your face and you startled from your spiraling thoughts.

Your head turned and you saw a crimson eye narrowed at you. The milky white one beside it still mostly closed against your shoulder as the pad of his finger wiped your newly wet cheek.

“Are you ever going to stop crying?” Doflamingo’s voice asked so abruptly then. Deep, but quiet in its continued proximity to you.

“I didn’t know that I was.” You answered honestly, caught off guard and letting the heel of your hand wipe the rest of that dampness away as you looked back to the ceiling.

He made a noise in response. Dismissive, but you could still feel his gaze on you.

“What’s done is done. It’s over.” He said next, making the easy assumption of what still had you rattled. And that bit of irritation was resuming in him already because of it.

But he didn’t know the real extent. You were sure that he didn’t.

“Sorry.” You were the one to say that useless word then. But you were just trying to end the subject. Trying to make him stop.

“You’re not.” He contended.

And your eyes did look back to him then. Fresh concern in your expression no doubt.

But you felt him just stretching his legs back out. His cock was soft, but it grazed you as he adjusted his hips. He was laying on his side with his body pressed to you so firmly still.

“What more do you want from me?” He spoke against your ear now. As if you were the one still being unreasonable. “I didn’t even maim you. What do you think I would have done to any other person on this island that took matters into their own hands as you did? Regardless of why.” He said next. His hand was sliding across your stomach now.

But his fingers just kept moving lower before you could answer. The longest finger, his middle one, parted your slit in one smooth movement to begin rubbing your clit.

And just like that it was all about what your body could give him again.

Whether you were ready for this or not.

And apparently you were not. Not as you heard your own voice so suddenly, firing back at him. “Well…did you fuck me yesterday morning too? Because that didn’t help! I woke up with strangers in the room, and then had that running down my leg. It could have been anyone!”

You’d taken that disgust out on Trebol too you were sure. Everything was connected in this continued trauma.

The movement of Doflamingo’s finger paused at your outburst.

That red eye stared at you, sharp and narrowed as he lifted his head again.

“Watch your tone with me, woman.”

Two of his fingers pushed right into your entrance then with that warning. He hooked those fingers actually, the pressure making your expression change.

“Doffy,” You grunted because it hurt.

It was meant to hurt.

“Of course I fucked you. And I don’t care if you could feel it or not. If you could remember it or not. I need you, you stupid bitch.” He answered though, with that tone of hatefulness reemerging all over again.

But you were watching his face.

You saw when he swallowed. When the contempt began to change to a more general upset the more aroused he became. “I can’t stop. Not when you’re the only thing that feels right.”

And there was the additional cruelty of his own inconsistent feelings.

He’d berate you. He’d hurt you, and in the very next breath he’d practically infer that he couldn’t exist without you.

His lips were on your jaw then too. You felt his tongue ghost against your skin.

His teeth nipped that same skin. “So quit acting like you don’t understand. Like you don’t want me too…you need this. You need me.”

The two fingers inside of you were now beginning to slide in and out. They pumped into you as his tongue stretched out further this time, leaving a long wet streak across the side of your face.

“But if you really are so offended…then do something about it. Punish me. Make me feel it. Fuck me back.” He taunted next.

“What?” You breathed, at a frustrating loss for his exact meaning while his fingers continued mercilessly. The way he’d said this gave away that it was now something different he was asking for.

“I’ll let you. I’d do that for you.” He grunted, his hips shifting suddenly as you now felt the tip of that awakened cock rubbing against you.

“I don’t…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And the words were already getting harder to say.

Harder to think of as you felt yourself getting wetter for him regardless. His fingers moving in and out so much easier now.

“Your cunt wants a break doesn’t it?” His crudeness continued. “Your ass too after what I did to you, right? I fucked you so hard when I was in there the other night, didn’t I?”

And you were feeling more heat inside of you with every insulting word.

But he was starting to smile again. He looked so hungry actually. “Then do it to me. I’ll show you how.”

His thumb was back over your clit, working it in tandem to his fingers now quickening their already rough pace inside.

“Cum for me, and then I’ll let you fuck me. We’re both going to feel good today after the shit we got put through. We deserve this.”

Oh, so now you were a team all of the sudden? As if the power imbalance here wasn’t still so extreme.

But it didn’t matter.

Not when Doflamingo’s tongue was now forcing its way past your teeth.

You heard and felt him moan into your mouth. It was so dirty. So unrestrained really as your thighs opened up even more for him.

You were both disgustingly pathetic.

And the wet sound of his fingers in and out of you only made everything that much worse as you started clenching around his fingers.

That tension was building in your belly.

“Cum for me…let go. You’re so close already aren’t you, love?” He broke the kiss enough to say this against your mouth. Right before he nipped your bottom lip.

The sharp little pain was almost simultaneous to that whip like feel. Like a tightening rope finally snapping inside as you felt your body tremble and hot fluid wash over his fingers.

Doflamingo inhaled sharply, looking down at the unexpected mess that had made.

The humiliation you felt was instant, but the remnants of the full body orgasm he’d just given you weren’t easily dismissed either.

You were panting.

And you heard him laugh. He laughed before his face was then nuzzling back into yours.

“I guess I should have let you take a piss before we started, huh?”

It wasn’t excessive. But it was well enough for you both to know that couldn’t all be female ejaculate. Enough to make a wet spot you could now feel beneath you on the bed.

“Asshole.” You muttered, even with his face still warmly against yours.

“It means I fucking rocked that sweet spot, didn’t I, marine?” He sounded all too smug in response. And even more flirty too as he kissed the side of your face. “Don’t be embarrassed, lover…even though you’re goddamn cute when you are. We’re not done yet anyway. Now it’s my turn.”

His grin widened too then as his fingers finally slid back out of you. He just wiped that hand on the dryer portion of the bedsheets before he flung the blankets fully away to better expose himself to you.

Doflamingo let go of you to move onto his back, propping himself into the pillows and looking so comfortable then before he motioned to the nightstand.

“Be a good, wet girl for me then, and crawl over there to get the biggest one so we can play some more. It’s all or nothing for me.” And he sounded like he was goddamn bragging. Bragging and commanding you all at once as your mind had yet to fully accept what was now happening here.

You were still trying to process the orgasm that had made your legs feel like jelly all over again.

What in the fuck was your actual life in this moment as you did crawl across the mattress eventually, then on your knees at its edge before you could reach the drawer of his nightstand and pull it open.

Which was a sight that really should not have been meant for your naive eyes. There were toys in there that you didn’t even know the use of. Intimidating things you were afraid to even goddamn touch as you peered down into that private stash.

Packs of condoms were there too, different kinds of lubes, and more…pills? They weren’t the same shape or color as the ones you’d taken before. They were in a clear bag, beside another bag with some kind of white powder inside of it.

The fuck was that?

You did not want to reach your hand in.

“Just grab a dildo, woman. This doesn’t have to be complicated.” Doflamingo chided. A little louder then, getting more impatient.

And you did have to force yourself. Pushing the unknown things out of the way to sort through some of the more familiar looking style of toys.

You pulled one out that seemed to be the largest like he’d requested, and it looked entirely painful by your personal standards. Bigger than any of those he’d used on you the other night. But honestly, very close to his own physical size once you glanced back at him with the toy in your hand.

“That’ll do.” He smirked. “I couldn’t remember how many I still had in there.”

And he settled back even further into the pillows, putting his arms briefly behind his head as he began spreading his legs.

“Don’t worry about lube, beautiful…let me see you use that mouth of yours instead.”

“What?” You stared.

His always impressive cock was flushed with blood by this point, hard for this long already without any relief. Rising up from that fine blond pubic hair and pointing firmly towards the ceiling as he held his thighs open shamelessly to show you it all.

One of his hands did move back down, lifting his own sack off of the mattress as he began to palm it.

“Suck the toy, marine. Deep throat that if you can. I want it good and wet before I show you how to really take it.”

But you didn’t want to. Your hesitation clearly said as much.

And his reactions were becoming that much sharper in response.

“Oh goddamn it, don’t be so high maintenance. Anything in that drawer was already washed. It’s clean.”

Your eyebrows still lowered. Yes, even you knew how arbitrary it seemed on the things you would finally resist him on.

But the way he was leering at you, the way his legs were spread eagle and waiting like you owed him this. This wasn’t even an experience you had had before.

And something about it made you feel more like a whore than ever.

“What is wrong with you?” Came his exasperated tone next when you still hadn’t put that dildo in your mouth.

And your shoulders sank. He was on that edge of getting angry all over again.

“If you fucking cry one more time…” He still fussed as your posture had changed however. That blood vessel starting to show in his forehead. “I already said I was sorry, (Y/N)!”

That damn word again. But it sounded so petulant this time.

So desperate.

“Just give me that, you idiot.” And a string had jerked the dildo from your hand. Pulling it away from you and into his grip instead as his tongue angrily ran out to run the length of it.

He put the whole thing in his own mouth soon after even as he glared at you.

Spit edged from his lips as he began to suck it.

You were of course stunned once more. Discomfort still there for you too as you watched this inexplicable scene while Doflamingo’s cheeks hollowed out with that purposeful sucking. And he didn’t choke at all, nearly the full length of the toy then within his mouth as he pumped it in and out briefly while watching you spitefully.

When he did pull it all the way out again, spit was fully down his chin and soaked across that toy.

He did not care.

“That’s how it’s fucking done.” He growled, but still not looking away from your face. “Get over here. Now.”

And you did comply again then. But with that unwillingness still in your expression as you crawled back to him on the bed.

As soon as you were close enough though, his hand that was not holding the toy shot up to catch you by your throat.

You made a defensive sound and he smirked as he felt the resistance of your armament already beneath his squeezing hand.

“Why does everything have to be this difficult lately? I thought we were having fun.” He lamented, actually unable to make you choke that easily in how strongly your armament was then shielding you. You weren’t as weak as you’d been yesterday.

And he sighed when you still wouldn’t submit to this even rougher play. But he smiled again as he let you go just as abruptly. He finally used the back of his hand to wipe his chin then.

“I just want you to fuck me, lover…I don’t take rejection well you know. You’re hesitating too much. You’re hurting my feelings.”

The last words were said mockingly. But he was still goddamn insane, as usual. Just jumping from one emotion to the next. Had either of you even been awake long enough yet to already be going through all of this?

You took a deep breath. “I’m not rejecting you, Doffy. I’m just-“ Overwhelmed? Depressed? Traumatized?

“I just want things not to hurt. I don’t want anything else to hurt right now.” You managed, but still feeling at a complete loss of how to make someone like him understand any of this if even for a moment.

And the responding coldness in his eyes was far from comforting as he grabbed your wrist this time, bringing you onto his lap to straddle him.

“But life is pain. So why ask me for the impossible?” His tone was still short, but his volume did quiet as he held you there.

With you there between his legs, he brought that still wet dildo down between you both. He inhaled, letting your wrist go as he reached to grab himself again. He was then holding his own balls up and out of the way as he moved that toy beneath them.

He still spoke to you as he did, his eyes on yours as he angled it against his own opening that you could not see. “The important thing is that we can now hurt together. You have me. And I’m showing you my pain too, aren’t I? I’m letting you in.”

And he groaned a little, you getting to see that true discomfort move across his face as the tip first entered him.

You were silent as Doflamingo breathed deeper, him pausing as if to adjust to even that much of it inside of him.

“Damn. It really has been a while...” He said, like he was a bit taken aback himself at the new feeling.

But with it now started, his large hand moved back over your wrist.

His grip was warm, and far more gentle this time as he guided your hand to the base of that toy.

“I want it to be you.” He breathed again. There was no mask of a smile any longer. Just this man looking up at you needfully, anxiously even as he made your hand close around the toy. “Push it in, love. Fast or slow…whatever feels right to you. I trust your judgement…please.”

And even if you were sure that every new word of his was fully intended to make you have the exact reaction that you now were, this still wasn’t something you could control.

You felt the new heat in your chest as his tone had changed. You were embarrassed again. It felt like you’d never even had sex before all of the sudden.

And of course you hadn’t like this. Not with the roles reversed this way.

You knew what it felt like for you though, to have that pressure just edging your entrance. The longer you made him wait, the less kind that would be, wouldn’t it?

Oh, you were so in over your head though. Yourself flustered and him still never looking away from you as you finally did start to push it in him.

Doflamingo gasped quietly, his lips parting in a way that immediately had you feeling some kind of way between your own legs again.

Your body was fully confused in this moment actually.

But his wasn’t. You saw his abdominal muscles tense and even his cock twitch as you still slid that thick toy gradually deeper inside of this man.

The resistance was weird, but you could tell he was relaxing as much as he could. You were being so mindful of his expressions too. Even pausing to let him adjust again whenever you’d see that brief flit of pain reenter his eyes.

And something about that level of care from you did bring a rare softer look across his attractive face. “I knew it…” He chuckled despite himself. “If you had a dick, you’d be so gentle with it at first. Wouldn’t you, my love? So responsible with your weapons.”

He was smiling again then, a fully pleasured one before he let out a small moan when you did continue pressing in again.

“Almost flush…come on.” He said next. His eyes were going half lidded too. A near look of adoration in them now for you. “It feels so good, woman…don’t stop.”

It was hard to look away from those rare emotions either, you not wanting to miss out on any of what he was now offering you in return.

But you also found yourself uneasy to finally realize that all of that toy but the bit you were still holding onto had now disappeared.

It was all the way in. He’d really taken it so well.

And he was still laying on his back beneath you, thighs spread wantonly with his head and shoulders just barely propped up in the pillows as a new urge overcame you.

You left the toy fully in him as you moved back up that long torso of his just enough to kiss him again.

And this surprised him. Likely so much of his focus already just on that sensation of being filled, waiting for you to start thrusting before your mouth was abruptly over his.

But he certainly didn’t stop you. Far from it as his mouth opened in return, wanting to taste you again immediately as you felt his hips roll. His hand grabbed into your hair to hold you to him long enough to deepen that kiss as well.

“Oh, fuck,” Doflamingo breathed against your lips in between kisses, nipping them briefly again when he didn’t want to let go of you. “You don’t know what you do to me…no one…they didn’t do it like this.”

And he wasn’t even making sense now.

But he was trying to.

So you did pull back a little, your hand then stroking down his chest as you listened to him.

And even that additional soft touch set him off too. His hips rolled hard again as he looked at you desperately. “Why…why are you like this? Why are you so good to me?” He managed, finally articulating what he really meant with the last words. “Why are you so kind to me?”

Of course that question stunned you all over again. But not just for hearing it from his mouth. Because you weren’t sure how he’d even come to that conclusion, and right now of all times.

“I…what did I do?” You asked genuinely, letting him begin kissing your jawline again when you hadn’t yet moved back fully away yet.

“This. Goddamnit all of this.” His frustration was palpable. But he didn’t want to stop. “You…you don’t just fuck me. You kiss me…you hold me. You pet me…it drives me fucking crazy.”

Really? Just because of those simple things?

Your own surprise was surely evident. In all the bodies he must have partaken of through the years, you were somehow a standout?

And for what?

Just for being intimate with him? For giving instead of just taking or cowering?

“Doffy…don’t you get it?” You asked him suddenly then. Your hand was still warm over his chest. You had paused your palm there as you could feel his heartbeat beneath his muscles. That beat was growing faster. “I give you what I would want. I mean…why wouldn’t I do that?”

And his hand moved over yours against his chest. He squeezed your hand, very tightly but not quite painful.

He smirked darkly. “You…are either the best or the worst thing that has ever happened to me in this hellhole.” But his hips moved again as that laugh of his emanated out. “So fuck me like you love me. Finish me properly.“

Almost gently he pushed you back then, back down to sit near his open legs again as he put your hand back on the end of that toy.

It was clear what he wanted most now, rolling his hips again as he watched you needfully.

And so you did it. No more stalling as you gave your monster what he wanted. Thrusting that toy at whatever speed he would take.

First slow, and then faster as you got to watch the king of Dressrosa begin to fully unravel for you.

But you felt no guilt. Nor did he want you to. Doflamingo’s approval was clear in the way he threw his head back and even arched against the mattress the more you pressed.

“Fuck…yes, it’s been too long…yes, just like that…” He moaned as those claws of his began fisting into the bedsheet.

And before long it was your own name repeatedly leaving his panting chest.

You would have been lying to say it wasn’t making new slick between your own legs to hear his normally prideful voice start to break for you that way too.

But you were still more focused on what you were doing to him. Not what it was causing in you as his eyes met yours again.

“Harder…I know you can. Please, (Y/N).” He was already speaking in gasps now. But you still obliged, feeling like you were holding a damn dagger by this point.

Being told to stab it into him over and over, working your wrist and your arm to do so.

His poor cock looked to be painful by now as well as it bobbed in the air with the continued movement of his hips, nothing to thrust into as it leaked precum all over the head.

And in all of his panting and the increasing volume of your name across his lips like some kind of prayer, the thought did finally cross your mind to do something with that neglected cock.

He didn’t deserve it of course. Not after all he’d already done to you. You’d just told him how messed up it’d been that he’d still fucked you when you were blacked out too. You’d told him you wanted a break from hurting.

But his moans kept on. This shameless motherfucker who could abuse you so thoroughly, and then turn around the very next day and gladly put on a vulnerable display like this.

Your own renewed slick was now thick enough to actually begin edging out. Gravity bringing a hint of it onto your thigh in the way you were currently positioned as your hand still moved to keep fucking Doflamingo.

You didn’t want to get pounded by him yet. You really didn’t as your body was still very unhappy in all the damage it had accumulated recently.

But just being filled yourself for a moment? You could tolerate that couldn’t you? He wasn’t going to be lasting much longer anyway. The changing rhythm of his panting always gave him away when he was already this near climax.

What would his face be if you did this though? Would that expression be worth any additional price you were about to pay?

His eyes were closed now, he was living for those sensations you were rocking through his body as his hips moved in time with your non stop thrusting of that toy.

Which made it trickier. Keeping your hand and arm movement going, thankfully with some marine stamina to help you out there as you raised up onto your spread knees.

Just open enough to fit him between your thighs of course.

And the mattress movement as you shifted wasn’t enough to warn him. Even if it was, he likely thought you were only trying to find a more comfortable way to sit.

He couldn’t know anything was actually different until he’d felt the first touch of something against the tip of his weeping cock.

But by the time his eyes had opened, your slick had made that initial push all too easy. Just that brief spike of pressure to clear the head, and that small gasp of pain from you before you had slid down onto as much of his length as you could take.

Your channel squeezed around him immediately as his girth stretched you painfully as always, tight to the point of almost being too much to withstand.

And the absolutely awestruck look on Doflamingo’s face as he fully realized what you’d just done, without even being asked to, was an expression you doubted you’d ever see from him again. He nearly came right then and there with that surprise you were sure.

Only you stopping your thrusting of the toy briefly then as you’d tried to adjust to him inside of you had allowed him that extra time to process this.

You were still having to hold yourself up a little as well, not wanting to put too much pressure against your cervix as you watched the man beneath you try to remember his own voice.

You had rendered the Heavenly Demon speechless. Though his hands wasted no time finding your hips, helping you steady yourself on his length.

Reflexively you tightened on him again and you felt his cock twitch inside of you in response.

He took another shaky breath, still staring at you like you weren’t even human any longer. Like you had materialized straight from the heavens to anoint him with this dual pleasure.

“Let go of the toy,” his voice was practically a rasp when it finally did reemerge. “I’ll move it. You just sit there and stay tight on me…god, gods I can’t…I…fuck I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

And he sounded like he was pleading, or dying. Like you were actually killing part of this man.

But you saw his fingers move. You were getting better at seeing his strings too. The tiny glimmers they made even here in the shadows of those still closed curtains.

His strings were now hooked to the toy. He was going to fuck himself while you took care of his cock in the way only you could.

And once that did restart, with the toy moving in and out with his strings and you rocking your hips and squeezing around his attention starved shaft simultaneously, Doflamingo let out a euphoric moan louder than any before it. One they had to have heard all the way downstairs.

And it was your name he was calling out to the world.

Like a curse and a salvation for him all at once. It was a fucking scream as he finally came.

He was shuddering, thrusting up into you as you felt his cock pulse again and again. Each pump a shot full of his seed, hot and purposeful.

“Yes…goddamn yes,” he was still panting, still trembling as he pulled you down onto his body. His cock continuing to empty itself inside of you as he held you to him.

And you let him do it. You breathed with him, the heat of that fire between you both so apparent again.

It had become make up sex with a king. Reconciliation with your warlord as one of his hands moved back into your hair and the other went protectively across your back.

He was caging you to him as his chest rose and fell. And you closed your eyes in that warmth, silent again just to hear him breathing.

You did love this part of it. You really did.

If only it was enough to ever outweigh every other fault in you both.

—————————

He’d let the servants open the curtains at last while they’d delivered breakfast at his command. This new sunlight filling the dining area not being something he’d normally ask for. He usually liked it cooler, darker in here within his chambers. A less stimulating environment when he needed that to withdraw to.

But he wanted to see you better this morning. He wanted to appreciate what was still fully novel to him as you sat near him. Just the two of you sharing a quiet breakfast at the long table in his suite.

He’d only pulled on a pair of pants. Shirtless and barefoot, blond hair not even combed yet as he ate while watching you.

Sex always made him hungry. And he knew you were still working from a caloric deficit anyway. He’d figured out already that you ate less and less the more stressed you were.

Like bringing home an exotic pet, he had to learn your environmental quirks. He had to force you to stay healthy enough to survive after all of his personal investment already in you.

And he’d known there’d be an adjustment period. Some violence surely if you were pushed too far, too fast.

But Crocodile had thrown fuel on that fire. And it’d nearly worked. Just like everything that reptile did. The plan was almost good enough, but fell short in the final leg. A stumble right at the finish line.

He hadn’t even called Crocodile yet either. Though Doflamingo’s mind had churned with so many thoughts of revenge and how close he’d really come to losing you. Painfully angry even long into last night as he’d lain awake holding you while thinking of how to fix this.

That sandy fucker had no right to toy with him now. And just like in Scylla, when Doflamingo had had to abruptly pivot, deciding to bring you home then and there after Crocodile’s attack, he’d felt his hand being forced yet again now.

He had to let his enemies know there was no indecisiveness in him. You weren’t just a new distraction they may be able to harm and thereby simply annoy him or force him to negotiate for.

This wasn’t him just taking a new mistress for fun. This was him setting up the future that he wanted. You were his family now.

And he was going to let the world know. Then if anyone still dared to come for you, they’d have to do so in full knowledge of the scorched earth that would bring them.

No one harmed his family.

“After we eat, I do have some more things to take care of this morning. But I need you dressed in your best marine garb for this afternoon. I’m taking you to the colosseum then. And I’m expecting practically every seat to be filled there. Diamante is quite the promoter for special events like this.”

The piece of potato omelette still on your fork held there for a moment as you glanced over to him. You so casual yourself in some faded marine training shirt, the material thinned enough that he had been enjoying you clearly being braless beneath it.

“To fight?” You asked surprisingly serious.

Enough so that he scoffed, rolling his uncovered eyes at you. You were still an idiot at times. Still a human after all. “To spectate, darling.” Not that the idea of you fully healed, running around the arena breaking jaws with your kicks and slitting throats with that rope dart of yours wasn’t a very strong turn on in its own right.

There weren’t many female gladiators. The public would eat that shit up if you could be flashy enough about it. You were a bit serious when you fought right now.

Maybe after the child came. You’d probably be itching by then for some postpartum violence and a return to form.

You were a warrior after all.

“We’ve fallen off of the front page again in the papers if you hadn’t noticed. I think it’s time for another public appearance.”

“Why would I want to be in the newspaper? Fuck that.” And you did start eating your omelette again then.

It was obvious the drugs were back out of your system at least. Those pills had dulled you so much yesterday. Your attitude was back in full force today.

But he was in a good mood now. Getting to penetrate you while you penetrated him was an itch he had not expected to be so thoroughly scratched this morning. That had been fucking paradise actually. “Because you want to help our dear mother, don’t you?” Doflamingo taunted, smirking in full knowledge of how much this was going to push your buttons.

And you stilled again, giving him a colder look immediately there. “Tsuru?” You still had to ask.

“Obviously.” He confirmed. “I mean, you’re not fully stupid I know.” He was just being a dick for the sake of it now. He was enjoying every additional interaction with you actually. “Haven’t you wondered why she’s been stationed on the same pitiful island chain for weeks upon weeks now? A strategist like her should have had that rebellion extinguished in days.”

“Have you had your hand in it?” You accused abruptly then.

And he was honestly a little surprised at that. But you were still learning him too. He could forgive it for now. He had obviously benefited by her being away there for so long too. Those circumstances alone had practically dropped you into his lap.

“I don’t interfere with Tsuru-san. Not as Joker, not as me. No, I cut all ties with Lyra as soon as she got assigned there. I’m not the one delaying her.” He said honestly, even through the remaining skepticism in your eyes.

“It’s the world government that decided to bury that place, long and slow with blockades she’s been ordered to maintain. And Big News Morgans has started snooping around about it. So many have died. He’ll drag Tsuru’s name through the mud too if he doesn’t have a better story to sell papers with soon. So you and I can be that story and save her the defamation.”

“How many have died?” You were starting to look more bothered. You were realizing you may actually believe him.

As you should, because he was telling the goddamn truth for once. “Probably a good thirty percent of the total population. But nearer fifty, even sixty percent in certain towns. Because the government is also using that rebellion as the perfect testing ground for some new lab grown diseases of theirs. With Tsuru maintaining their blockade, there’s no medical assistance in or out either. No one to tell on them of how unnatural that contagion really is.”

“Then how would you know?” You were still trying to hope he could be wrong.

And there he did grin again, smugly as his legs spread a little once more beneath the table.

“Lover, have you already forgotten what exactly it is I do for a living? I’m not just your personal cock toy…though I am enjoying the benefits of that new role.”

“Then is Tsuru okay…is my crew okay?”

Oh how sad. Like a puppy missing its littermates. “Of course she’s fine. The government didn’t allow the marines to enter any of the diseased towns either. They’ve got Cipher Pol quarantining those. Your little troop has been spending all their time stopping blockade runners and sniping the surviving rebels in the mountains.”

But he saw the way you still didn’t look satisfied. “Why didn’t she tell me…she never said it was that bad.”

“You know how she is. She probably thought you had enough on your plate. Namely…me.” He smiled again.

“I should be with them.” And it was like you were talking to yourself then. The new guilt in your expression was obvious.

But finally here, he did feel that bit of irritation trying to start in him again. Yes, he knew how attached you must still be to your crew. Tsuru had saved you. No different than him pulling Baby 5, Monet, and Sugar from poverty and what would have only been a life of sexual abuse mixed with the constant threat of starvation for those girls otherwise.

And had never touched them. He would never dream of it in that context. They were family.

He could do these things to you though, because he’d seen you as a potential mate even from first sight.

They were like little sisters to him. But you were not. Even if he may tease you as such, with Tsuru as the common maternal thread between you.

“They’re fine without you.” He said carefully. Actually trying not to let his jealousy fully burst out. He didn’t want this good mood ended already. “I need you here.”

And it was intentional, the way he moved with his long arm easily reaching out for his hand to close over yours on top of the table.

“Like I said, we can help Tsuru-san here by being a good distraction. So she doesn’t have to deal with public accusations of mass murder that she has zero control over. I know she’s still been letting some medicine and food get through in secret anyway. She’s doing the best she can while still playing by the government’s rules on the surface. That woman is incorruptible. As always.”

And you still looked sad. Annoying to him really when he was right here in front of you, giving you his full attention this way. He wanted your mind on this feeling between the two of you instead, thinking of him alone.

“(Y/N).” He said, relaxing his eyes as best he could. Emoting as best he could to regain your focus. “I need you.” He reiterated, even more intentional this time. Even more heartfelt he supposed it would be called. A skill that could be practiced and honed like any other tool in his manipulations of course. “This is your home now. With me.”

——————————

Your hands were in the pockets of your marine coat, intentionally so he could not hold either of them as your boot heels clicked on the stone streets.

What were you supposed to do? Doflamingo would have pulled you out here on his strings anyway if you hadn’t come willingly.

He wouldn’t have allowed their group to be humiliated by a no show when Diamante had already promised the public an appearance from you both this afternoon.

But you still didn’t buy any of his shit about this being a performance for Tsuru’s sake. Though you were now worrying for her and your crew still as you did your best to keep a neutral expression.

The Donquixote foot soldiers were keeping the curious onlookers at bay as you walked with Doflamingo towards the Corrida Colosseum.

Reporters had remained on the island, hoping for this very thing as cameras now flashed again and questions were yelled out to you both here and there.

For now the warlord was ignoring them though. Those red sunglasses rarely looked away from you.

“You know it’s a bit insulting for you to still be wearing that weapon when we’re out together.” Doflamingo said then, but that amusement so clear in his tone. “I’m all the weapon you need you know…”

Unless the civilians were excellent lip readers, they wouldn’t know what kind of small talk was really occurring here in the other noise of the crowd. And you were still so cognizant of everything you did with your own body language as you kept your eyes on the street ahead and where you were walking.

“If I’d had my weapon on in Scylla I wouldn’t have to still be dealing with this failed amputation.” You replied dryly. That swordsman never would have been so lucky if you just could have disarmed him with a haki infused rope and strangled him until he confessed who he was really working for.

“You left my side that night, darling. That was your own fault.” Doflamingo still chided though. Followed with a taunting, “But you’re barely limping today. Perhaps they won’t even notice with your legs covered this way. Does it still ache?”

You had chosen to wear leggings beneath your skirt this time. Covering the wound and all those bruises. “It hurts like fuck, you ass.” You said lowly.

And he almost cackled at the abruptness of that.

So much so that you finally did look up at him in mild surprise.

“Didn’t Tsuru ever try to wash out that filthy mouth?” He practically cooed afterward.

Only then as you saw some young women giggling and blushing in your peripheral vision did you realize that to everyone else’s eyes this must look like real flirting, like familiarity already.

His attention was so clearly on you, the tall man walking fully at your side to better interact. Not even in front of you this time to lead. And him then laughing and smiling as if you’d said something endearing.

Prince charming is who they somehow still thought he was, a fairytale come to life right before their eyes. They had no understanding of what lay behind it at all.

But you couldn’t judge their ignorance. Not when you knew so much more and were still right here beside him.

This very same man that had shown you the edge of death yesterday. And the same man you’d willingly climbed on top of this morning to briefly ride the cock of as he screamed out your name.

What a cursed pair the two of you were.

And he actually looked happy about it, proud even.

This bastard was out here living his best life while you were trying not to have another breakdown.

Yes, what a complete shitshow this really was.

———————————

There had been lines all the way down the street just for admittance today. And it was even more of a madhouse once they’d gotten inside. This former gladiator knew the corridors well here however, holding the young girl’s hand firmly as he hopped at her side.

“Please stay close. Keep your face covered.” He reminded her yet again as he saw her getting distracted in all the spectacle.

“It’s hot, and I don’t like this on my face.” She still complained though, looking back down at him with her small voice almost lost in all the boisterous conversations around them.

“We’re only staying long enough to see what all this fuss is about. Then we’ll be going home.” Home being only the latest abandoned hovel that no one would search for her in. He hadn’t been able to convince Rebecca to stay there today while he made this rarer trip to the city.

But, it also hadn’t taken much of her arguing with him either really. The little tin soldier was still afraid to leave his young daughter alone out there in the countryside for long.

The girl who didn’t even know she had a father any longer while he kept tightly with her on their way to the public seating.

The sheer number of people here made her being recognized rather unlikely. But it was always a risk. So he’d made her tie a scarf around her face. Just below her wide and anxious eyes as inconsiderate adults bumped her this way and that in the crowd.

Kyros had to restrain himself not to say anything on her behalf. Knowing a normal toy would never make such a spectacle against humans.

He needed to remain focused as well. All the top members of the Donquixote family were now in attendance.

His contact from the Tontattas had confirmed this. Even as the dwarves had been equally excitable with the fact that they had indeed still seen you alive this morning.

Details of yesterday had been rather spotty with the dwarves intense fear of Doflamingo making them rather unwilling to visit the palace for long. And certainly never letting themselves become trapped in the same room with him.

But Kyros understood there had been some sort of fight yesterday. That you had stood up to Trebol to break his nose even. A wound that executive still had bandaged today in fact.

It was truly unheard of.

So of course the dwarves and their optimistic hearts were already whispering of miracles.

They said Doflamingo had spared you out of affection.

Everything was always face value to them until brutally proven otherwise.

But Kyros had been in the throne room that first night of the invasion. He’d seen the truly pleasured smile on that animal’s face as King Riku had kneeled broken before him. While the former king had begged before that monster for mercy that Dressrosa would never see.

The little tin soldier could not fathom any love ever existing within such a wicked man.

Doflamingo was but a conqueror thirsting for more every moment, every second. More power, more control, more blood, and more suffering.

He was a beast that must be slayed for any of them to ever know freedom again.

So Kyros had come to witness this new lie with his own metal eyes. Because the Tontattas were surely misconstruing it somehow.

They thought you must have some special power over even Doflamingo’s missing heart. They wanted to believe in you so badly.

They hoped that a kind queen may soon rise to free them.

But Kyros had begged them to wait, to not make contact with you yet.

Even if you had wished to help them, it didn’t mean that you could. It could be only another elaborate trap, you but another puppet on that demon’s strings.

And the Tontattas weren’t alone in their immediate emotional investment in you either. That was clear in the excitement of the crowd as the tin soldier and Rebecca finally found an empty space they could cram into between other spectators.

Like every other toy now in this stadium though, the war for this country had never ended for Kyros. His anguish and hatred were still the only real feelings he could muster as the humans beside him cheered when their king did finally appear. A blond devil grinning wide within the royal viewing box.

The very root of all that was wrong with their home. Their captor and tormentor, now with you at his side.

—————————

Diamante had truly outdone himself today. It was perfect really. Only even furthering Doflamingo’s excellent mood as he heard the crowd now cheering his name.

He reached out, his fingers catching briefly over your hip as he guided you to sit beside him in the open air box.

You tensed at even that small of a touch though. You were still wishing to remain so proper in public.

That time was about to be ending though. And he already was broadcasting that to anyone paying attention. Which was everyone of course as he extended his long arm over the stone seat back just behind you once you had sat at his side.

Gatz’s voice was already loud over the stadium’s speakers, welcoming the crowd to this afternoon of special exhibition matches put on by request of his majesty who was now gracing them with his rare presence.

Because it really had been a while since he’d been to the colosseum in person. He’d been too busy with his responsibilities as Joker, too busy with chasing you.

But now you were here and so was he. And you’d just noticed the large projection screen. Normally meant to showcase the highlights of the battles below to the crowd. But those visual transponder snails were focused on the royal booth in this moment to the people’s further delight as you quickly looked away.

“Don’t be so cold.” Doflamingo spoke to you with that continued amusement. “You’re still representing your precious marines here too you know. Don’t you care about this island’s citizens? They’re dying to get a chance to catch your eye…”

Quite literally perhaps.

On Doflamingo’s orders, Diamante had already let his prisoner gladiators know of today’s special rules.

With you as his official guest, whichever fighter was judged as performing the best in the matches to come would earn the unheard of right of a full pardon. Not that unattainable thousand match bullshit that Diamante normally tortured them with.

But that pardon would come from none other than you. Just for today, Doflamingo would be granting you that authority, though you didn’t know it yet.

He wanted them to love you. He couldn’t show much mercy, even when used as a tactic with ulterior motives. Because he had to maintain full control here. But you could. You could be the facade of the softer hand when he needed one.

Doflamingo could have you secure the trust of even the ones that already knew enough to fear him. And you could help him weed out more of the traitors then when they’d inevitably come to you for help.

He was smiling, you making his life better in every way in this moment as he got comfortable. Legs spread again, his knee against yours as one of the servants brought the first tray of drinks by.

And he knew there was a diamond ring in his pocket as well. The one he’d picked out from the jeweler’s tray Monet and Sugar had presented him with earlier today when he’d told you he had a few things to take care of before getting ready to come here.

By this time tomorrow every piece of trash that had ever tried to cross him would be seeing a picture of that ring on your hand in the newspaper.

It was a fucking beautiful day to be king. A beautiful day to have everything back under his control, including you.

———————————

T⨂ BE

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

Author’s note: The song that Viola sings in the beginning is just my own English bastardization/loose translation for story purposes of the Spanish song “¡Ay Pena, Penita, Pena!”. Please go listen to the real thing.

118 notes · View notes

arazialotis · 3 months ago

Text

Get Him to the Con - Part 10

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 6520

Story Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Chapter Summary: Y/n visits Vancouver to see Jensen and, more importantly, to try to win Jared over.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Warnings: Always language. Grumpy Jared. After dinner, well, it gets NSFW 🌶️🌶️, 18+ Only

Although this is an RPF, these are fabricated characters and should not reflect back IRL. I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as a coping skill. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

----

The black Escalade wove through the Vancouver traffic, the sun beating down, melting the piles of slushy remnants from the first snow. What should have been an eagerly anticipated moment for your arrival was tense. Behind the wheel, Jensen was trying to be the bridge between you and his best friend.

“Lighten up, man. Y/n’s really excited to be out here again and wants nothing more than to hang out and cook us a nice meal.” Jensen pleaded your case.

He, in fact, suggested pizza on the risk of jetlag, but you had insisted, falling back onto the age-old idiom ‘the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.’ You already had one of their hearts, and you were convinced you could make Jared warm up to you, too, if only he saw you as who you were and not as a clingy fangirl. Yet you felt that rift growing every time you saw him. And the last thing you wanted was for Jensen to be caught in the middle.

“Would you try to like her? For me? Please.” Jensen nearly begged when Jared didn’t respond.

At least he was in the car, though Jensen didn’t give him a choice, with this outing as a pretense of drinks after work.

Jensen tried one more time, fed up with Jared’s stubbornness. “At least act nice.”

That got his attention. “Act nice? I’ll play nice if she does.” The accusation hanging heaving.

Jensen furrowed his brow. “Y/n doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.” Okay, you had a bit of a temper, were known to hold a grudge, and had a smart mouth, but Jared didn’t need to know that.

Jared scoffed. “Last time she came out, she literally laughed and criticized me for overacting.”

Jensen’s confusion grew, trying to remember the last time you came out. Then, the realization hit him as the three of you watched the latest episode together in another futile attempt for Jensen to foster peace.

Despite the animosity, Jensen couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, she laughed at a scene and apologized immediately, saying it was hard to take the show seriously now that she knows us. And I said that wasn’t it; it’s probably because you took your acting lessons from Bruce Campbell." His tongue peeked out between his teeth as he attempted and failed to control another giggle, still quite proud of the slight.

“It was a serious scene. I was acting my heart out.” Jared stressed. “You had just gotten back from hell.”

Jensen lost the smile. “In her defense, it does lose its impactfulness after the 17th time.”

“Whatever, man.” Jared pouted, looking out the window.

Jensen rolled his eyes and prayed to any god that would listen. “Would it make you feel better if we watch Devour together after dinner? Then we’ll just laugh at me.”

Jared said nothing, not taking the bait. The clicking of the blinker filled the silence as Jensen waited to turn toward the arrival gates. Jared ran his fingers through his hair as Jensen pursed his lips together, trying to think of something, anything. The light turned green.

“I don’t even know why I am here. Y/n has, like, what, two full days out here? You should be spending it together without having to worry about me third-wheeling. I’m sure there are other things that you would prefer to occupy time you don’t get over Zoom.” Jared rambled out loud.

Jensen’s eyes tightly blinked shut momentarily as he began seeking out an open spot at the curb. Jared was right, of course, only on account of his last thought, but he wouldn’t be at peace until he had the blessing of his best friend. Jensen inhaled through his nose, held his breath, and released through his mouth.

“It is important to me that you and Y/n find some common ground. If you gave her even the slightest chance, I’m positive you would start to like her.” He said calmly as he put the car into park.

“Why does it matter so much to you if I like her?” Jared pushed. To him, you were still only a rebound after Elena.

And then it hit him. Maybe Jared’s denial of his true fear of being replaced had come true.

“Because she’s my best friend and I love her!” He declared and then laughed through the shock.

It was the first time he had admitted it out loud. The silence was palpable as both men processed the weight of the words. Jensen wasn’t one to open up lightly. He felt deeply, but he was always careful with those emotions, cautious even. It had taken nearly two years before he said the same to Elena. Another before they started looking at rings. Maybe because it was one of the first serious relationships he had since the start of his career. The depth and commitment he had felt with her made the falling out that much more disastrous. He had fortified his walls to be higher and more impenetrable. Then you came out of nowhere and shattered everything he thought he knew about himself. He felt like a caged bird learning for the first time how to spread its wings, to feel the breeze on its face, and the warmth of the sun. With you, he felt free.

Jared’s eyes darted back and forth as if reading his thoughts, finding the right response. Jensen squeezed the steering wheel and nodded his head. “I love her.” He said again, the realization hitting him, fully knowing it was true. But then the terror of the statement hit him. The car door shuttered open, and the catapult of a backpack rolling over the seatbench crashing at the other end pulled Jared from his thoughts as you entered the car.

“Hiya!” You squeaked.

You pulled the door close with a thud and clicked on your seatbelt. You cleared your throat, looking up, momentarily afraid you jumped in the wrong car. But it was Jensen and Jared, alright. Jensen stared directly ahead, his face as white as if seeing a ghost. Jared scrutinized his friend. You sank back in your seat. You had thrown yourself directly into something.

Jared turned in his seat, blinking rapidly and addressing you in the most amiable tone he had ever taken with you. “Hi Y/n. Um, would you mind giving us a minute?”

Oh, you had definitely walked into something. It took you a minute to process this, but then you began fumbling with the seatbelt, “Yeah. Yeah. Of course.” And vacated the Escalade as fast as possible.

Jared’s brow furrowed, and he leaned closer to a whisper as you aimlessly knocked your fists together outside on the sidewalk. “You love her?”

He chuckled again and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I really do.”

Jared knew he should be happy for Jensen, knew they should be celebrating this, offering congratulations, but all he felt was dread.

“Have you told her?” Jared asked.

“Nah, you’re the first to know.” Jensen clapped Jared on the shoulder. “I want the moment to be right, you know. I want to be able to remember it for a long time.”

Jared thought about faking it, but he had to be real with Jensen. “You don’t know her.”

That set him off. “Why are you so set against her? Why can’t you be happy for me? I do know her. I’ve known her for seven months, been dating her for 4 of those, and talk to her almost daily.” His voice went up an octave higher. “I don’t know why I have to keep justifying my choices to you, man? When will it ever be good enough for you?”

Jared didn’t take the bait. “But you don’t know her. How can you truly? You haven’t met her friends or her family, and it sounds like her mom is a real piece of work. Are you ready to deal with that?”

Outside the car, airport security approached you. Both boys could tell from your over-exaggerated gestures that you were attempting to buy them more time.

Jared continued. “And no offense, but she isn’t spotlight material.”

“Fuck you.” Jensen's blood boiled over. He was about to leave the car to find another way to get back into the city. At that moment, he never wanted to see Jared again.

“Come on. Give me a break. You know I didn’t mean it like that.” Though he kind of did. “All I’m saying is that if you truly are that committed to her, that this isn’t some fling, you should think about preparing her for the kind of attention it will warrant. The good, the bad, and the ugly. That kind of stress and attention can ruin a person.”

Jensen didn’t respond but wrung his hands on the steering wheel. There was a knock on the window.

“Please, know I’m just trying to look out for you,” Jared whispered as he began rolling down the window.

“Nobody asked you to.” Jensen snipped back before the security guard started to chew them out.

As the boys were on the receiving end of a very stern lecture, you slipped as quietly as possible into the back seat to avoid further angering or endangering yourself with security. Yes, spending a night in jail was on your bucket list, but this is not what you had in mind.

“Sorry, officer,” Jensen ended a profuse apology before hightailing it out of there.

You weren’t sure exactly what you missed, but the air hung thick with tension. Nobody spoke. There was only the hum of tires on the road. It hit you that Jensen never even acknowledged you. You fiddled with a loose stitch on the seat in front of you.

After five minutes and starting to get out of airport traffic, you couldn’t handle it anymore. “So…” You drew the word out, unsure how to break into a conversation.

Jensen blinked, realizing you had no reason to be as upset as him and that it was unfair to suffer from their drama, especially when you were not privy to it.

He cleared his throat. “I got the groceries you requested delivered.” However, he didn’t know how the three of you would sit through a dinner together.

“Oh, good! I’m starving. Airport food never really hits the spot, but the Cajun snack mix does kinda slap.” You rambled, trying for anything to get them talking.

They both hmmed in response. You were about to ask them about their favorite airport snack, but thank the gods, it was Jared who surprisingly saved you.

“What’s for dinner then?” He was trying. He had fucked up. He knew it. This was how he could try to make amends with Jensen.

You beamed, having perfectly planned it out, trying to finally win Jared over to your side. “We’ll start with a strawberry, basil, and balsamic whipped burrata and roasted bone marrow. Then, a small lemon watercress-radicchio salad for a palate cleanser before moving on to a butter-basted ribeye accompanied by potatoes au gratin and crispy brussel sprouts with mustard seeds and pomegranate.”

Jared’s stomach rumbled. Goddammit, that sounded good.

“And, I was considering a dessert, but Jensen said I already had enough going on, and because baking isn’t my strong suit, I let him handle the rest.” You explained. “You did handle the rest, didn’t you?”

Jensen's anger melted a little. With a smirk, he said, “Yeah, a tub of vanilla ice cream.”

Your heart dropped. “Stop.” There was a glint of teasing in his eyes as he looked at you through the rearview mirror, but the rest of his face remained deadpan. You couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “Okay, I guess I could repropose what I had in mind for the burrata, and if you have sugar on hand and something salty and crunchy, we could do a quick brittle. Oooh, maybe the cajun snack mix. Or perhaps…”

“Y/n! I’m messing with you. I have an assortment ordered from Thomas Haas.” He winked at you in the mirror.

Thomas Haas meant little to you, but anything would be better than a tub of ice cream. Okay, a tub of ice cream had its time and place, but not when you were working so hard to impress Jared. Still, you eyed Jensen skeptically, unsure if it would measure up.

“Some of the best in Vancouver,” Jared assured. “I’m sure it will compliment your dinner perfectly. I can’t wait. It all sounds very delicious.”

“Hmm.” You looked between the two of them.

There were still too many questions unanswered. What were they talking about before you arrived? Could you trust either of them to select a quality dessert or would you have to resort to brittle anyways? Were you now on a no-fly list due to the tiff with the security guard? When could you get Jensen alone (this stern look painted on his face was doing things you couldn’t control)? But most importantly, why was Jared acting so nice?

“I’ve had bone marrow before, but only in restaurants,” Jared continued. “I didn’t realize it could be done at home.”

“Oh yeah, it’s actually super simple if you can find a good butcher.” You explained.

Jensen interjected. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s been binging The Bear, and now her only goal is to become an Iron Chef.”

You smirked, impressed he even knew what an Iron Chef was. Aside from eating food, anything kitchen-related was the furthest on his interest list. You were rubbing off on him.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “It’s the easiest cheat code appetizer if you want to impress someone. You toast some bread, toss the marrow in the oven for twenty minutes, and add a few accouterments to a serving board. And bam, done.”

Jared laughed, actually laughed. “I’m sure you are underselling yourself. From what Jensen has told me, you are an excellent cook. I can’t wait to see it all come together.”

Jensen glared at Jared out of the side of his eye, the anger resurfacing. He was laying it on thick. Too thick.

You squinted, eyes darting back and forth between them. This wasn’t going to plan. You were supposed to cook the food and then become BFFs with Jared. This was happening too quickly. But perhaps you should take it for what it was. Maybe you had stuck around long enough for him to finally accept you. Or Jensen had talked you up enough. Whatever the reason, you had to stop ruminating on it. All you had to do was get through dinner. Perhaps after, you could corner Jensen into an explanation.

It wasn’t long until you pulled into the parking garage adjoined to the condos. Jensen popped the trunk, surprised to find it empty.

“Where’s your luggage?” He asked, oblivious as his conversation with Jared required most of his mental capacity.

You held up your backpack as a response, and his brow furrowed with confusion.

“What’s wrong? Are you ill?” He pestered, placing the back of his hand against your forehead.

“Shut up.” You snipped and then explained. “I’m practicing becoming a lighter packer.” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Besides, I recall not needing much clothing last visit.”

Jensen raised his eyebrows, reminiscing, and then nuzzled his nose into your neck in anticipation of this weekend. Jared, having overheard, rolled his eyes and fought a gag. You laughed as Jensen pulled away, his eyelashes tickling your cheeks. And Jared plastered on his fake smile yet again.

“Let’s get upstairs,” He said. “I’m starving.”

-----

Dinner was coming along nicely. You were basting the last of the steaks in butter, and the boys were watching the end of a game in the living room. The thoroughly cleaned plates on the coffee table were the only lingering evidence that there had been appetizers. You snuck a bit here and there, but it was mostly to keep the two of them from sniffing around the kitchen.

With a final splash of liquid, the steak was done—perfect caramelization and crust. Now, the potatoes. You checked the timer—ten minutes, enough time for the steak to rest. And the Brussels? Shit. You scooped the last of them out of the oil in the nick of time. You generously salted them and would add the pomegranate molasses after plating. Satisfied with how it was all wrapping up, you whipped Jensen’s once pristinely white dish towel over your shoulder. There was a shuffling behind you as you began cleaning what you could.

“Need any help?” Jensen asked.

You were about to shoo him out when you heard the scrape of a knife. You snapped your head around to catch him red-handed. He stared at you like a deer in the headlights, the end of one steak pinched between his fingers and the knife hovering millimeters above. You scowled, and Jensen slowly set the knife down, held his hands in surrender, and backed up.

Your scowl melted into a smile. “A couple of minutes longer. If you’d like to help, you can set the table.”

He straightened. “Yes, chef.”

You playfully stuck out your tongue and whipped the dish towel in his direction, earning an exaggerated yelp.

Finally, after a few minutes passed, you brought the final plate to the table and scooched in. Jensen didn’t hesitate and dove in.

With a full mouth, he mumbled, “If this tastes as good as it…” Then it hit him, and his eyes rolled back in pure delight. “Oh god.”

Jared went in a little slower, cutting his steak and bringing it past his lips. He took several testing bites and paused, glaring at you. He was actually glaring at you. Dropping the act, he’d kept up all night, pissed at how good it tasted. He knew what tonight had been about. About you trying to butter him up, quite literally with butter braised steak. And god dammit. It was a good steak. And he was mad about it.

“Fuck.” Jared cursed aloud, snapping your and Jensen’s attention to him. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You smiled sheepishly, looking down at your plate. “I can’t say I’ve had that reaction before. Not quite as orgasmic as I was hoping for, maybe if I adjusted the…” Your face went pale, realizing the last part was out loud.

Jensen snorted, and Jared even cracked a smirk.

“So, um,” You attempted a recovery. “How was work this week?”

A few minutes of silence passed as Jensen gave Jared a chance to answer. When he didn't and caught him glaring again, Jensen kicked his shin under the table, prompting him further.

Jared grunted. “Well, hours weren't as shitty as usual.”

“Cause Collins hasn't been around.” Jensen teasingly interjected.

Jared chuckled. “Yeah, not as many retakes. Finally, it feels like we're making some progress this season.”

You nodded. The three of you looked back and forth, trying to gauge whether it was appropriate to continue the conversation or return to eating.

“What about you?” Jared coughed before going in for another bite.

“Same old.” You simply stated.

Silverware scraped against plates. A clock ticked in the living room. The sounds of the city rose from the streets. You dabbed the corner of your mouth with the black cloth napkin, then considered it. You’d be willing to bet good money this was the first time Jensen ever pulled them out.

Jensen tried again to spark the conversation again. “Should we talk Vegas?”

Your eyes lit up excitedly, ready to discuss a plan and details.

“So, about that,” Jared started. Jensen didn’t hide his scowl, but Jared's eyes widened, challenging him. “It’s not often we get that kind of time off work, and I’m going to meet Gen in Austin.”

Ah, so dinner wasn’t the wondrous miracle you hoped it would be. You cursed yourself for not trying a Wellington. Jensen reached under the table to graze your thigh, trying to communicate that this had nothing to do with you.

“Why doesn’t she join us?” Jensen shrewdly offered.

Jared’s lips formed a thin line before countering. “Actually, we are going to use the time to do some house hunting.” He hesitated for a minute. “We’ve started talking about, um, the next steps in starting our family.”

Kids? Oh god, Jensen was going to be an uncle. He was already an uncle to Harper’s clan, but this was Jared. All the tension momentarily evaporated as you both offered your excitement and congratulations.

“Yeah, our current setup isn’t going to cut it. We need more space, a yard.” Jared explained. “Y/n, are you interested in kids?”

Jensen choked on the last piece of steak, recovering with a swig of wine. The temporary peace was broken yet again.

“Oh, um.” You stammered, trying to think of a response. Every couple (that was serious, that is) had to come across this question. You just didn’t picture you were there yet with Jensen. And you didn’t picture the conversation would come about this way. “Well, I’ve recently only managed to keep a house plant alive, so maybe the next step is like a cat or something before moving onto a…” You gulped. “A child.”

“Hmm. So you haven’t given it much thought?” He clarified.

“I mean,” Heat was rising to your cheeks. “It might not be my first choice, looking after a little drooling, monstrous carbon copy. Don’t get me wrong, I love being Aunt Y/n to my niece but one of my own. It’s a lot of responsibility and sacrifice and time and money… I don’t know. There’s a lot of benefits, too, I’m sure. You and Gen will be fantastic parents!”

“Interesting.” Jared ignored your last comment. “Wasn’t it in Colorado that you said you’d have Jensen’s babies? Or maybe that’s changed after you got to know him more.” He chuckled a bit, trying to conceal it as a joke.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jensen attempted to shut this down.

“No, I never actually said that.” You talked over him and defended yourself. “Casey, a fan, although more than well-meaning, took several liberties that day. A decision that big should require careful consideration rather than something silly like initial attraction or blind devotion, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Absolutely,” he responded sincerely. “Such as your partner’s thoughts on the issue. Gen and I knew immediately that growing our family was an intention for our relationship. Jensen, you’ve always wanted kids, haven’t you?”

If looks could kill, Jared would currently be en route to the nearest morgue. But then he caught a glance at your wide, curious eyes awaiting an answer. There’s no way he would lie about this. Yet, this was the first time the subject of the long-term future had been broached. He swallowed the lump in his throat with another dose of wine, then threw his napkin on his plate.

“I have always seen my future with one or two kiddos running around.” He spoke softly and slowly. “But if my partner wasn’t on board, there’s no way I’d force that upon them. The two of us would always come first.”

Jared raised his eyebrows and nodded, staying silent as he finished his last bite.

You filled the silence instead, unable to handle the pause in conversation. “Similarly, I would never want to deny my future partner if that was something that was really important to them.”

Jensen closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. This wasn’t a relationship-ending kind of conversation. You did share common ground. And it was each other.

“That seems like a lot of sacrifice.” Jared circled back to the earlier point.

“But what is love?” You asked back.

Jensen whined a high-pitched melody under his breath, “Baby, don’t hurt me,” so over this conversation.

But Jared and you were beyond dialed in.

“You want to define that here, tonight?” Jared pushed. “Scholars, philosophers, religions; they’ve been trying to do that since the dawn of humanity.”

“Many of which have brought it back to sacrifice.”

“And many of which have used that ideal to perpetuate cycles of horrendous abuse.”

You pushed your plate aside, needing the space to talk with your hands. “I’m not denying that. But if you are talking on an individual level about two people in love outside of an institution, there are many components, but sacrifice is usually one of them.”

“So you’re arguing you shouldn’t be happy for the sake of the other person?”

“I’m arguing,” You strained. “Both people in the relationship sacrifice for each other, and not only are they happy to do so, but it is a privilege. You lift each other up and balance the other, and there is a net gain rather than elevating one over the other, becoming nothing more than a mere doormat. Trust me, I’ve been around enough narcissists to understand that never ends well.”

“So that’s your conclusion: love is sacrifice?” Jared asked.

Was he trying to trap you? “Like I said, it’s a component. But at the end of the day, I’d say love is a choice. There’s those initial feelings of lust and excitement and newness that will eventually fade away. And you’ll get on each other’s nerves, and there’ll be tears and fighting, and hell, we all get old, and gravity always wins. There’ll be moments where you have to choose. In fact, there’ll probably be moments where you choose not to. At the end of the day, I’d like to end up with someone who is my best friend above all else because you’ll have that to fall back on when it's hard to love.”

Jared didn’t say it contradictory but as a compliment to your point. “Friendship is its own kind of love.” He looked to Jensen apologetically.

“Very true.” You agreed. “What do you think, Jensen?”

Jensen sighed and shook his head. He stood up to start clearing the table. “It’s a mystery. Sometimes love is just love.”

You began stacking the dishes, bringing them to the kitchen as well. “It defies explanation, logic even.” You added.

Jared grabbed the bottle of wine, refilled glasses, and brought the fresh pour to you. “And definition. It’s the ultimate expression of humanity, isn’t it? To wrestle with complex concepts.”

You chuckled, taking a sip. “I guess that’s based on how you define humanity.”

Jared leaned against the counter. “Well…”

Jensen snapped up from putting plates in the dishwasher. “How about a movie?”

Jared lost his train of thought. “I have kind of been in the mood for The Matrix.”

You beamed. Perhaps this disaster of a night wasn’t ruined after all. It would be the perfect opportunity to bring up simulation theory with Jared. From what Jensen told you, Jared loved debating and theorizing over abstract topics. It would be the perfect foot in. Maybe you could impress him after all.

Jensen caught the mischievous look in your eye. He shook his head. “Don’t…”

But you beat him to it. “That sounds perfect!”

---

Later that night, hours after discussing perceived reality, you hovered over the kitchen sink, scrubbing down the remaining mess. Jared was long gone but thanked you for a pleasant evening. Jensen came up behind you, stripped down to his undershirt and briefs. He pulled your waist to his, wrapping his grasp around your hips, and nuzzled closer.

“Come to bed.” He whispered into your neck.

You half-moaned, leaning into his touch. “I just have a few more.”

“That’s what the dishwasher is for.” He said.

You paused and stiffened. “And ruin the finish on this cast iron? You monster.” Jensen gave a light chuckle before closing his eyes against your skin as you continued. “How do you think tonight went?”

He sighed, chewing it over.

“I know.” You agreed. “I should have done the Wellington.” That earned you a pinch to the side. You yelped. “Not when I’m washing the knives!”

“Honestly,” Jensen started. “I don’t know what to think.”

You took a deep gulp and turned off the faucet before turning to face him. You searched his eyes and ran your pruned thumb against his cheek.

“I don’t want to come between you two.” You strained.

He took your hand and his and glided your knuckles across his lips.

“You’re not.” He whispered.

Your glare pierced him.

Jensen continued. “He’s coming around, albeit slowly.” He added as your gaze held, “I promise.”

Your breath released, and the tension left your body, too tired to challenge him further.

“Come on, off to bed.” He instructed.

But you turned around and yawned, “Only a few more.”

Suddenly, you were swooped up and being carried away from the kitchen. “The rest can wait.”

You hit the mattress, immediately sinking into the plush duvet and feathered pillows. Jensen followed, his warmth and weight wrapping around you. The day's weight full of travel, cooking, cleaning, debating, and worrying all hit you instantly. You closed your eyes, darkness quickly closing in. Yet you couldn’t ignore the lips peppering slow, soft kisses at the edge of your navel.

“Mmmm. Jensen, I’m tired.” You moaned over the response your body had to his touch. His fingers danced along the hem of your shirt, trailing higher. Between kisses, he breathed. “You won’t have to do a thing.”

You popped an eye open and raised an eyebrow, looking down at him through the darkness. The city lights illuminated his features. There was a feral glow in his eyes, waiting for that sweet, sweet permission he longed to hear.

“Are you proposing to use me?” You questioned, rubbing your thighs tighter, seeking pressure to alleviate the quickly growing need.

And he knew it, too. A smirk that would impress even the devil crossed his lips. “That depends,” He brought his hand from your ribs, prying your thighs apart, and you whined in response. “Would you like to be used?”

You nodded even though you could barely keep your eyes open, “Very much.”

He made quick work of your clothing, your lazy attempts to help only impeding the process. The cold air of the condo brushed over your skin, providing temporary alertness as your hair rose and you shivered in response. His hands roamed over you, chasing away the chill, replacing the sharpness with tenderness.

Even as you wrestled sleep from taking you, eyes fluttering close, you could feel his eyes on you. From day one, he made it his mission to study you; taking note of every sharp inhale, every squirm, every crease of the brow. He had been a quick and eager student. His hand gently encouraged your legs apart, his hand roving over your core, parting your very soul as he found his mark. Satisfied, his eyes closed, and his head rested against your chest as he let instinct take over.

Dancing on the edge of sleep yet pulled to the waking world by pleasure, your brain couldn’t comprehend thoughts. The worries of the day, the countless insecurities, the what-ifs, they all melted from your mind. The only thing you knew was touch. It was the only constant. The concept of time faded, and at some point unbeknownst to you, fingers had been replaced with lips.

Incoherent words praised his practiced tongue as thoughts attempted and failed to form meaning. Your hand wound through his hair, gripping to hold him in place as you rocked your hips forward. His arms hooked under your legs, lifting you higher, spreading you farther as he lost his need for air. His only purpose in consuming you.

“Jensen.” You mewled his name as a curse. “Please. God, please.”

Teeth scraped against soft flesh, sending you soaring off that endless cliff. You cried out, a slew of fractured speech. Jensen idly continued as you floated back down to reality. Only as breath returned, hungry for air, did he stop, attempting to catch some himself.

“Turn over,” He instructed through the shallow pants. “On your knees.”

You whined, rubbing your face with your palm. “You said I wouldn’t have to do anything.”

He nipped at your inner thigh. “Brat.”

You lazily smiled until he grabbed your sides and flipped you over himself. That woke you up, but only momentarily as he shuffled behind you, allowing you a minute to bury your head deeper into the pillow.

“Oh, I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

An arm snaked under your diaphragm, and you lost your breath as he pulled you up to a kneel, pinning you against his bare, hard flesh. His hands roamed your curves, already mapped in his mind, desperate to bring to fruition what he had imaged during the month apart. A hand came to your throat, gently squeezing, as he tilted it to the side.

“Color?” He cooed into your ear.

You only moaned, too tired for words, grinding your hips back into him, hoping it would prompt this process further along.

“Use your words.” He softly demanded.

“Green.” You placed a hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder. “So fucking green.”

He buried his mouth into the crook of your neck, claiming you, possessing you, undoing you. But two could play this game. With your free hand, you reached behind you, immediately claiming your prize. You stroked up and down his length, stopping at the apex and rolling your grasp.

“Fuck.” He indulged temporarily before taking your hand, guiding it to the top of the headboard.

Your other hand followed suit as he gripped your hips. You arched your back and swayed side to side, inviting him in or, at the very least, enticing him to hurry.

“Patience has never been your strong suit.” He playfully scolded.

As he knocked your knee with his own, spreading you apart further and lower, he bent down, planting long, deliberate kisses on the small of your back. Your eyes fluttered close yet again, your mind at war with your body, demanding sleep. He neared your entrance, testing at first, then surged forward, completely filling you. You cried out, sparks turning to flame as he flooded you. Over and over, he built pace, seeking his own high.

It was unlike anything you had ever known. Nothing existed outside of this claiming rhythm, outside of this mounting heat, outside of this ecstasy. Your mind was blank. Your mind was numb. He was the only thing you had ever known—the only thing you were created for.

His hand gripped your shoulder, arching you deeper, pulling you more flush against his hardness, hitting the deepest parts of you. Your curses and praise garbled together, moans became mute, and blinding pressure rose, threatening to break.

“Come on, Y/n,” Jensen said through ragged pants. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

“Jensen.” You cried, tears spilling over. “I can’t, I’m so tired.”

His grip left your shoulder and joined yours on the headboard, intertwining his fingers with yours as he drove into you over and over and over.

“Yes, you can.” He encouraged. “Tell me where.”

He adjusted, giving you time to assess the effectiveness.

And then, suddenly, “Ah, right there. Fuck, don’t fucking stop.” You squeezed your eyes shut.

He did as he was told, gritting his teeth together, fingers digging into your flesh as he held on. He waited and waited until he felt you close in around him, constricting, demanding he fall off that cliff with you into the deep pool of bright light. Your hands slid from the headboard as you collapsed back onto the mattress. Jensen fell with you, his weight trapping you.

It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. But eventually, you found your way to the surface again, taking a deep, shuttering breath. Jensen rolled off you onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, breathing in and out, in and out. Sweat outlined his sculpted frame as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. When his heart finally settled, his eyes found yours, and he pulled you close.

You were no longer aware if you were sleeping or awake, but still, you said. “I think it is safe to say we can move ‘exhausted sex’ from the maybe category to any fucking time or day.”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “Thank you.”

You groaned. “Oh please, let’s not start that again.”

“Fair.” He agreed and thought of something else to say. “You’ve ruined me.”

“I’ve ruined you?” You corrected. “Sir. You’ve gone and rendered the entirety of the male species inconsequential.”

“Okay,” He challenged, rubbing his eyes. “You can’t be that tired if you can spin that heap of bullcrap.”

You burrowed into the crook of his arm and closed your eyes before mumbling, “It's not bullcrap. You’ve ruined me too.”

His eyes darted back and forth in the darkness, contemplating everything you had said about love and god, even children. He looked back at you. Your breath had slowed and evened out. And he knew his epiphany remained true. His love for you was beyond his initial attraction, curiosity, or, frankly, his blue balls. He’d give it all up if you asked, find some office job, become a cat dad. And then it hit him why, and he chuckled, saving that thought for another day because now sleep was threatening him too, and he might not be thinking rationally.

He kissed your hair and whispered, testing it out loud. “I love you.” A cold, electric shiver ran throughout his being.

He froze as you stirred. “Hmm?”

He chuckled. “What would you think about going public?”

You shot up, fully conscious. Fully alert. Your brow furrowed, trying to comprehend.

“Aren’t we already public? You did ask me out at a convention?”

He also sat up, rubbing his hands through his hair to stir further energy.

“Well, kind of. People know I’m dating, but only a select few know who.” He explained trying to assess your emotions at the same time. “We’ve done a pretty good job keeping a wrap on your identity.”

“Probably ‘cause your ballcap and sunglasses are such a convincing disguise, Clark Kent.” You teased.

“Smartass,” he grumbled. “Probably more likely because I have a good manager and an even better team right now who locked down and scrubbed your social media.” He waited for you and added, “If you don’t want to…”

“No, that’s not it.” You stopped him. “I… Can I think it over?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need; there’s no rush.” He assured.

“I’ll have to talk to some people beforehand. Friends, coworkers, family.” You gritted your teeth. “My mom, she… Well, she might make things difficult.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up so late. We can sleep on it and talk to the team tomorrow. They’ll answer any questions you have and maybe provide some guidance on the hard things.” He bent down to look into your eyes. “Okay?”

You nodded in response.

“Let’s get some rest, yeah?” He encouraged again and pulled you down against him.

But how the fuck were you supposed to sleep now? Your whole world could change overnight. And you weren’t sure you were ready for it.

---

TAGS:

Everything Jackles: @akshi8278

GHTTC: @maggiegirl17 @foxyjwls007 @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @ghostofjoharvelle @ellen-reincarnated1967 @deansgirl79 @chriszgirl92

(Always feel free to ask to be added or removed (I won't be offended))

#supernatural #spn #spn fandom #spn fanfic #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen x you #jensen x y/n

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twstfanblog · 1 year ago

Text

*~Period Drama~* Saturday

A/N: So I sneezed, which is why this is out before the RSA series chapter lol. But I'm gonna have a lot of fun with this series I can feel it. Word Count: 4.7K (Wow, around the same as the last part) Warnings: Period mentions, Blood mentions (Drawing blood) She/They OC Pronouns Pairings: Azul/Reader (Poly), Jamil/Reader (Poly), Platonic relationships with Floyd, Jade, Ortho, and Crewel. Enjoy! Start, Part 2 (Here), Part 3 (Heartslabyul), Part 4 (Savanaclaw), Part 4.5 (Diasomnia pt.1), Part 5 (Diasomnia pt.2), Part 6 (Pomefiore)

Jamil, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Grim, Ace, and Deuce stood outside of ramshackle, some of them sitting on the wooden steps. Waiting as patiently as they could for Crewel to give them a final order. No more than twenty minutes had passed before Crewel opened the front door. He looked their group over, coming to some sort of choice before he smacked the palm of his hand with his crop, “Octavinelle pups, you stay. The rest of you go on with your day.” “Wait, what!?”

“Sensei!”

“Why does he-”

Crewel smacks his palm again. The crack somehow perfectly balanced with the harsh shush he gives them, quieting the protesting group instantly. His glare softens at seeing their crestfallen faces, “Yuu will be in contact. I need to gather up the needed potions and resource materials. But for now, They’re resting and it would be best to have someone in the house with them. Both to get them whatever they need and to keep unwanteds out. Ergo, the Octavinelle mutts.”

Jamil frowns but doesn’t speak up. He knew that he would probably have damage control to do in Scarabia. Najma most likely called Kalim in confusion from his call, not entertaining the thought of actually waiting on him to explain his bizarre question. Kalim would have only half the story and no context which was worrying enough, so he was clearly panicking and amassing the other Scarabia students for a witch hunt. He should stop at Scarbia before going back to basketball practice…

Deuce steps forward, imaginary puppy ears drooping as he mutters out, “Is Yuu at least okay? I didn’t see much, but it looked like a lot of blood…”

Sighing, Crewel walked down the stairs, gently patting Deuce on the head as he passed, “They’re fine, pup. I’m going to gather the Shroud boy and then prepare a proper medical report. As far as we should be concerned, this is completely natural for Yuu, if a bit painful.” He reached into his coat, pulled out his pipe kit and started to fill it as he walked away, “But for now, Azul, Floyd, and Jade are to look after them until I come back. You other pups are to return to your scheduled activities and tell no one about this.”

Ace looked to the side nervously, thankfully unseen by anyone before he nodded and started to make his way down the path behind Crewel. Deuce sighs but nods, calmed by the info that Yuu was okay at least. He jogs down the path after Ace, none of them are really surprised when muffled yelling could be heard a little down the way.

Azul looked out of the corner of his eye, catching Jamil giving him an intense glare. He knew Jamil was upset at the turn of events, the very fact Azul was picked over him would be enough to anger the Scarabian student. Let alone being picked by their lover’s pseudo-father figure as their keeper. He turns entirely to him, smiling and opening his mouth to pacify his lover-in-law before Jamil interrupts him.

Jamil turned his back on Azul, walking down the path to get back to campus. He quickly scooped Grim into his arms, ignoring the monster hissing and fighting his grip, “Just make sure they eat something high in iron.” That was all he said before he was also gone from view, walking past the row of trees acting as a fence of the property.

Silence passes the three students before Azul squeals, smiling wide and pumping his fist, “YES! He trusts me! You both saw that! He gave me his faith that I would tend to our lover. It’s only a matter of time before I can talk him into transferring!”

Floyd rolls his eyes, walking back into the house with a snickering Jade behind him, “Either you take care of my Shrimpy or they’ll kill you themselves…” he mutters under his breath, pout turning into a frown as the scent of blood hits him harder inside.

Jade’s own mirth decreases at the smell. He hums looking around the dorm. Yuu wouldn’t want the windows open, not to mention the smell would simply travel over the campus. The last thing they needed was Malleus smelling Yuu’s blood in the air. Seven could only think of the disaster that would bring. He looks up the stairs, only half listening as Azul enters the dorm to bicker with Floyd.

“-fact you would insinuate I wouldn’t take care of my pearl is insult enough, Floyd.”

“Ehe~? I just said Shrimpy wouldn’t let you slide with shitty service. You scared of a little blood Azul~?”

“I will dock your pay-”

“I’ll go sit with Yuu, keep them company.” Jade smiled over his shoulder, already walking up the stairs. He pauses halfway up the stairs, tilting his head at their stares, “Unless I’m allowed free range of their meal?”

Floyd instantly perked up, rushing to the kitchen whining with a glare at his brother, “No way! You’ll make some weird mushroom thing that’ll make Shrimpy even sicker!”

Azul stays for only a moment before he follows Floyd, giving Jade one last look, “Do make sure my pearl is in good condition. If you can wake them up, ask if they would like a bath.”

“Will do.”

Jade parts with Azul, walking onto the second floor and toward Yuu’s room. He rested his hand on the doorknob and breathed in deep. Yuu’s blood was interesting, he’s always found it to be since he first smelled that foreign flora that no one could place. But that didn’t mean he wanted to smell it so strongly. He took in another deep breath in hope if he smelled it thoroughly enough the tightness of worry would loosen in his chest. Once calm he creaked the door open, knocking on it gently as he peaked his head in, “Yuu, I’m coming in.”

A simple groan answers him. That was acceptance of entry enough for him. He closes the door behind him and walks to sit in the armchair, moving it just a foot or so closer to the bed. Yuu had rotated since he last saw them. Now lying on their front with the blanket uncovered to their calves, arms wrapped around a pillow and eyes closed. If it wasn’t for the brief moments of their eyebrows creasing in pain, Jade would think they were perfectly fine.

A few minutes pass before Yuu opens their eyes, vision slightly hazy from pain, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Jade smiles, leaning forward to poke their cheek in greeting, “I’m guessing whatever is going on is quite painful?”

“Very much, yes.” They groan, snuggling into their pillow, “Periods are a bitch.”

“Azul said something about that. ‘Period’. That’s what it’s called?” When Yuu confirms, he leans back into the chair, humming under his breath. Now that things had calmed down, Jade couldn't help but call the whole scenario interesting. Finding differences in biology was always a fascinating venture, “Tell me about it.”

“Are you sure? It’s kinda gross and like…as you saw, pretty bloody.”

Jade chuckles, raising a hand to cover his mouth coyly, “I already said I want to know! Please don’t tease me in such a way!” He preens, feeling a small wave of pride at hearing Yuu laugh.

“You’re so weird…Alright.” Yuu angled herself to look over to Jade, raising an eyebrow, “What do you wanna know?”

“Is the bleeding just the first step of it? Do you gain internal injuries to produce the blood? Is the pain a result of-”

“I’m gonna just…stop you right there…” Yuu took a moment, trying to not laugh again, not wanting to change their towels yet, “So…Periods are weird because I feel like I'm injured but it’s all natural because of hormones are whatever.”

“Your hormones make your internal organs stimulate injuring themselves?” he takes a moment to look around the room. Standing up to grab a notepad and pencil from Yuu’s desk before returning to the armchair, "We have basic health classes in middle school. But I've never heard of hormones causing internal bleeding."

“Eh…more like the hormones jumpstart a refreshing process? Not so much internal bleeding.”

Jade smiled wide, his pencil poised to write down every word they said, "Do tell.”

Azul texted Crewel to bring an iron supplement potion along with the pain potions. Yuu didn’t have any food besides snacks and her childish cereals, how Floyd managed to find enough items for a seafood alfredo was nothing short of a miracle by Azul’s standards. Sure it wasn’t high in iron like Yuu needed, but it would be warm and something for her to eat.

They were still worried. How could they not be? Their dear friend was a floor above them basically bleeding out from an intimate area that shouldn’t be bleeding. Crewel’s behavior had calmed most of their nerves, Yuu strangely wouldn’t lie to Crewel nearly as much as she would any other teacher. And Crewel wouldn’t be half as calm if something had actually happened. But as Floyd had said to him, ‘It still felt gross’. All of them forced to twiddle their thumbs and wait for Crewel or Yuu to give them all the facts instead of just dismissing their horrific theories.

Floyd scooped the pasta dish into a bowl, as Yuu preferred it, shoving a fork in it and walked past Azul. He didn’t bother to listen to Azul tell him to stop and wait for Yuu to get up from her nap or call for them. He didn’t want to. The only reason he cooked instead of Jade was because his brother couldn’t be trusted in a kitchen alone without shoving mushrooms into something. At least not while Azul was as distracted as he was. But he was just as worried as the others, Yuu was his Shrimpy. He’d share with his brother and Azul. But as far as he was concerned he was doing just that, sharing. Shrimpy was his to look after for as long as she hung around him. And he was already in a bad mood from earlier thinking he had failed her.

“Floyd, Yuu might still be sleeping, we shouldn’t bother them.” Azul scolded him, trying to keep his voice down while making sure it carried a harshness.

“Don’t care. I wanna check on Shrimpy…”

Azul kept quiet before he sighed. He pulled out his handkerchief, if Yuu was still sleeping he could cover the bowl so they could eat later. It would be lukewarm at best, but it’d be clean and ready for Yuu when they woke up, “Fine. Let’s go check on them…”

Floyd didn’t bother to knock, opening the door one-handed and ignoring Azul’s groan behind him, “Shrimpy~, you awake?”

Yuu rolled over, smiling with an edge of weariness, and waved, “Hi Floyd~.”

“Shrimpy!” Floyd nearly dropped the bowl onto the bed sheets, moving to hug and squeeze his best friend. The scent of blood was still strong but just knowing that his friend was okay was enough to keep him in a positive mood. Pulling away, he passes the bowl properly to them, “You doing alright?”

Yuu smiles as Azul moves quickly to place his handkerchief onto her lap, a small comment on the bowl being hot. She kept eye contact with the cecaelian until Azul turned away with a blush. But, she does place the bowl on her lower stomach, the heat helping more than the boys knew, “Thank you for the food. And no, I’m in pain.”

Floyd’s relaxed expression instantly changes, dropping into a frown and downward brows, “Why? What happened to make you bleed like this Shrimpy? If we were in the ocean you’d be a chum magnet…”

Jade looked up from his notes, “Muscle tension.”

“Huh?” Both Azul and Floyd turned to him in confusion.

Jade taps at the notepad, showing the lines of neat handwriting with various questions sprinkled around it, “Yuu’s body is physically pushing the blood out by contracting their pelvic muscles. The involuntary spasms are causing some intense muscle cramps.”

Azul frowns, his hand moving to press on their stomach, almost trying to feel the sensation, “When will it stop? Losing this much blood can’t be good for you…”

Jade looked over his notes, sighing at his findings, “Yuu says this lasts four days normally for them.”

“Four days?” Both Azul and Floyd exclaimed, worry evident in their voices.

Yuu smiled, leaning against their pillows, “Seven is the standard.”

Azul whips his head back to Yuu, eyes wide and glasses nearly falling off his face, “Seven!?”

“How do you stop it?” Floyd looked the most distressed out of all of them, simply looking at Yuu’s lap with poorly veiled concern.

“Oh, Azul, you’ll love this.” Jade beamed, eyes reading over his writing, “This is apparently happening because Yuu didn’t get pregnant.”

…

Floyd turned to look at Azul, voice deadpan, “Azul, hurry up and knock Shrimpy up so we don’t have to deal with this.”

The scandalized look on Azul’s face makes Yuu burst into laughter, blood be damned. The cecaelian stuttered out a rambled form of scolding and excuses on how he couldn't 'Knock Them Up' and how it was no one’s business what he and his lover did in the bedroom. He only grew more flustered seeing the smiles on the twins' faces, knowing they were internally mocking him and his distressed state.

He snaps his fingers, a golden contract appearing beside him. Gripping it fiercely, he points to the four names signed at the bottom, "In any case! Per our official ‘Quad Agreement’, only Draconia is allowed to impregnate Yuu and that's not even in effect until they’ve both graduated!" With another snap, the scroll was gone, leaving Azul huffing and crossing his arms.

Yuu quiets their laughter, reaching out a hand to hold Azul’s, " Aw~. Are you mad you can't give me an octo baby?"

"I'm mad because you're in pain and the one way to stop this is something we can't do for years!" Azul does loosen his arms, both hands coming to cradle their outstretched one, "You've been acting odd all week before this whole bleeding mess even started. We were worried…"

Floyd pouts, resting his head on Yuu's shoulder, uncaring of how far he had to bend, "You punched me for trying to give you a piggyback ride, Shrimpy. Really hurt my feelings."

"You had seemed quite lethargic the past few days." Jade gave a worried smile, tone clear in just how concerned the past events had made him.

Yuu looked at all of them in shock, looking at the slowly cooling bowl of pasta before they covered their mouth. The room was silent until Yuu closed their eyes and tried to fight back the whimper threatening to leave their throat.

"...Yuu-"

"You guys care so much about me…so much…" Yuu lets go of the bowl, both hands fanning at their face as their eyes well up with tears, "And I've been such a bitch to you." Their voice cracked and slid into a high-pitched wail as the tears started to fall.

Jade’s eyes widened, his mouth opening in a silent gasp as he quickly shared a panicked look with Azul, " O-oh, oh no."

The cecaelian babbled, stuttering under his breath and hovering his hands over Yuu’s body. He wasn’t sure if Yuu wanted to be physically comforted, or even touched, “Yuu? What’s wrong, are you in more pain? Do you need me to call Crewel!?”

Floyd hesitantly pats at Yuu’s head, not wanting a repeat of being sucker punched in the face the last time he touched an upset Yuu, “There, there Shrimpy. Just eat your food…”

Still crying, taking shaky breaths while gathering a collection of noodles and seafood on their fork, “You guys are so nice to me. And I’m a bad friend…”

Jade was subtly leaning away, pressing his back deeper into the chair as he eyed Yuu with mild suspension, “No…You’re a perfectly good friend to us, Yuu.” Hormonal changes would explain Floyd’s notice of Yuu’s scent being 'off'. He assumed the different levels had only affected their body as they had stated. But it seemed their emotions were also being affected. A moody Floyd is something he grew up with, he knew every tell Floyd could give. A hormonally moody Yuu was new and dangerous territory as far as Jade was concerned.

Even with their reassurance, Yuu’s tears wouldn’t stop. The three males grew more uneasy, simply watching their friend bleed on her bed and eat lukewarm pasta while she softly cried. They shared a look between the three of them before Azul stepped forward, a nervous smile on his face while he gently caressed her hair.

“It’s…it’s ok my pearl.”

Yuu looked up, sniffling pitifully before pressing her head into his hand, “I’m sorry I’m so mean to you…”

Azul chuckles, pressing a kiss to their cheek before pulling away, “It’s ok. I will admit, I do like when you’re a bitch.”

The sweet air was gone in a second. Yuu’s crying stopping as though a switch was flipped. They glared up at Azul, “Did you just call me a bitch!?”

“...” Azul looked to the side then back to her, pulling his hand back, “I-”

“So you think I’m a bitch!?”

“No?” The confusion in his voice was clear. He looked at the twins who were just as puzzled, the two eel-mers quickly shrugging at his silent question as to what he did.

They also had no clue how to proceed. Yuu would normally either let them in on, or at least make their goal clear when they toyed with Azul. But this sort of rapid-fire mood change was not in their MO. It was even more so than Floyd could keep up with.

Yuu turned back to their pasta, tears coming back full force as their anger disappeared, “You’re lying to me…”

“...Would you feel better if I thought you were a bitch?”

“What is that supposed to mean!?”

Hours later, Floyd opened the door, disheveled and pouting at Crewel and Ortho, “Knifejaw…Hurry up and fix Shrimpy. They’re really mean like this and I’m sick of it.”

Crewel raised an eyebrow, walking into the dorm and waving a hand to send Ortho up before him, “Are they? More so than normal?” He said it with a jovial air, teasing his student since his own moods were the things of nightmares.

“Yes. If I felt like it, I would beg. I can’t handle them like this…”

“...”

Well, that was concerning… Floyd followed Crewel back up the stairs. Opening Yuu’s bedroom he realized that Floyd wasn’t kidding. Next to a standing Ortho Yuu sat on the bed, now cocooned in one of their blankets in Azul’s lap. Tear tracks on their cheeks and angrily sniffling between hand-fed forkfuls of pasta. Azul was sweating, oozing a nervous energy as though he were defusing a bomb and not feeding his lover. Jade sat in the far corner, chair pressed against the wall as far back as it could be and furiously writing notes.

Ortho beeped, eyes showing he was smiling under his mask, “Body scan complete! No external injuries are to be found!” He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Yuu and resting his head on them, “I’m so glad you’re ok, Prefect Yuu!”

Floyd huffs from the doorway, glaring at the display, “Oh, he can hug you but I get punched if I try?”

Yuu glares, eyes just peaking through Ortho’s flaming hair, “I could never hit Ortho, he’s baby.”

“Prefect Yuu is right, I am baby.” the smug tone was just barely heard through Ortho’s normal frequency of cheer. Looking up his bright yellow eyes meet Yuu’s, “Oh! Just so you know, Ace told the rest of us what was going on in our group chat. Though Crewel-Sensei told me that no one was supposed to know. In his defense though, the timestamps show Ace gave the information before Crewel-Sensei gave the order to not tell anyone.”

Yuu looks over to their phone on the nightstand, groaning at the wall of texts they’re sure is waiting for them, “God damn it.”

Sighing, Crewel waved his hand, “This is very cute, but Ortho you’re here for medical purposes. Let’s not get distracted.”

“Right!” Ortho stands up straight, holding out a hand as his other arm morphs to produce a syringe. “Prefect Yuu, may I have your arm to take a blood sample?”

Even though it looked like that was the last thing Yuu wanted to do, they managed to remove their arm from the blanket cocoon to place in Ortho’s waiting hand. Looking away while Ortho set to work finding a vein.

Crewel walked to the bed, grabbing a potion from his coat and uncorking it in one fluid movement, “How are you feeling, pup?”

“Like I’m in pain. The same as two hours ago. What kind of fucking question-” A fork full of pasta and sauce was shoved into their mouth, cutting them off from cussing out their teacher/father. Azul smiled timidly when Yuu’s glare snapped to him. Muttering through their food as they chewed, “Don’t you ever fucking try to silence me with pasta, again.”

Waiting until Yuu had swallowed and taken a breath, Crewel shoved the opening of the potion bottle to Yuu’s mouth and forcibly made them drink it, taking care to not justle their arm while Ortho drew blood. He adored his pup. But he was not going to sit idle and let them bark at him like they had the right, “That’s nice sweetie. Take your medicine, you’ll feel better.”

He only let up once the flask was empty, pulling away and placing the glass back into his coat. Yuu’s glare slowly softens, tense body finally relaxing in Azul’s nervous hold. They sigh, dropping their head into the crook of Azul’s neck, nosing into the flushed skin before pulling away to rest their cheek on his shoulder, “Sorry…about threatening your life and stuff. Forgot how bad cramps were…”

Azul, slowly wrapped his arms around them, nuzzling into their hair, “It’s…ok? So long as you’re feeling better now. Were you truly in that much pain?”

Floyd hums from the doorway, folding his arms, “I guess I can give you a pass then. I don’t like being in pain either, it’d make me just as crabby as you’ve been…”

Jade nodded from his corner, but made no move to come closer, “And it’s been nearly 6 hours since the supposed start of all of this. Does the pain really last the whole cycle?”

Yuu nods, “Yeah…I normally take pain meds when I realize it’s started so I don’t feel the worst of it. I take another dose either daily or just when I feel the first dose wearing off. But I didn’t have any potions in the house so I was gonna nap it off until Sam got my order.”

“All done!” Ortho spoke up, the vial of blood being placed in a secondary pouch for safety. Morphing his hand back, he placed his hands on Yuu’s lower stomach, tingles of something pulsing from Ortho’s fingers as he performed another scan, “In the most scientific phrasing you can, tell me what’s going on so I can add it to your file.”

Without missing a beat, Yuu answered, “My vagina is internally peeling and the liquidated lining is being pushed out.”

…

Ortho closed his eyes and stood up straight, arms resting at his sides. Turning around he walked out of the room, brushing past Floyd and closing the door behind him.

“...” Azul looked at Yuu, the horror from earlier that day returning to his face full force, “Your what is what now!?”

The sound of Jade’s pencil scratching at the notepad starts up again, muttering under his breath about needing more paper. Rushing to the desk and flipping through notebooks for a clean page.

Floyd simply looked sick by the door, the visual refusing to leave his mind.

“You know…” Crewel chuckled under his breath, more annoyed than mirthful, “That would have been a wonderful nugget of knowledge to have two hours ago.”

“I would have loved to not be in pain for half the day, but we don’t all get the raisin butter, do we?”

“Yuu.”

“It is really that different here?”

“Does blood come gushing out of female anatomy for a week? No, no it doesn’t. Yes, it’s different, puppy.”

Yuu sat quietly, looking down before raising their gaze back to Crewel, “I should probably learn more about the biology of this place…”

Crewel shook his head, annoyance clear in his expression while he pulled out folders from his bag, “Yeah you really should.” muttering under his breath about a ‘Dumb adorable dog’ as he slapped the papers on the bedspread, “So to start, there is a similar process-”

Floyd, opens the door, “Yeah, I’m leaving I’m bored and kinda freaked out.”

“Bye, Floyd! Sorry for punching you again.”

“Bye, Shrimpy~! Don’t bleed out!” He slammed the door behind him.

Jade sighed, standing from the armchair, “I should make sure he’s not doing anything too destructive. Best of luck to yourself, Yuu.”

Yuu waves to him while he leaves the room. They look to Azul, raising an eyebrow in question, “You wanna leave too?”

Azul mused for a moment. Female health classes weren’t something he was required to know, nor wanted to know. Anatomy in the Coral Sea was extensive enough, adding on surface world versions couldn’t be too different in hindsight. He might need the info later on in his life, maybe for a deal. Maybe to use it for a creative writing class, would Yuu find it distasteful if he wrote about their period in a horror setting?

“Azul?”

“I’ll stay.”

“Fine.” Crewel smacked his crop in his hand, twirling it to make the papers float and act as a PowerPoint, “Since you scared away the Shroud boy, I’ll have to do it this way.” Pointing toward a digraph of a uterus he spoke, “Luckily enough everything seems to be the same hardware-wise if your previous medical scans are anything to go by. Though, because you don’t have magic in your world, your bodies evolved a more… physical process.”

“Are you seriously telling me you bitches don’t get periods because you have magic?”

Azul slowly lifted a forkful of food to Yuu’s mouth, shakingly offering it like a sacrifice. He found that food was an easy way to calm their seemingly blind rage. He’d have to ask Jade for his notes later since he was too busy trying to keep Yuu and Floyd from fighting each other. He softly breathes a sigh of relief when Yuu lets him stuff the food into their mouth.

Crewel watched the exchange silently before continuing, “Yes…The process here is done normally after a day at most. The body’s natural magic will flare up and revitalize the uterus lining instead of…removing it.” He waved his crop, a photo of a body and various systems replacing the first example, “As I’ve told you before, everyone in Twisted Wonderland has magic naturally in their body’s cells simply from the magical byproduct of our world. So even if someone can not do magic, their body can still store magic to perform such cycles. It’s why scarring is so rare. Seeing how with modern medicine and the body’s cell restorative magic, healing has reached an almost perfect standard.”

Yuu was quiet, looking over the visual examples as Crewel continued his impromptu lecture. Leaning forward, they sighed out for so long it had morphed into a cry. They simply pushed away from Azul, ignoring him when he tried to comfort them. Turning away, they landed face first into the mattress and cried into their pillow. Through their sobs, muffled by the cushion they yelled, “This fucking sucks! I can’t even bitch with anyone else about how much this hurts!”

Azul looked at them in worry, barely noticing the red smears on his pants, “My pearl? Do you want pasta? Pasta makes it better right?”

“Azul, I’m getting real tired of you trying to feed me. I’m not a fucking wild horse you can soothe with delightful seafood pasta!”

…

Crewel raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the offered bowl in Azul’s shaking hands, “So do you not want the pasta-”

“Yes, I want the fucking pasta!”

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