#sorry i'm trying to write for the first time in months. bear with me

[argisthebulwark]

We Can Get Lost, You & Me

summary: Scenarios that make them say please. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Vilkas, Miraak, Farkas, Brynjolf warnings: canon typical mention of blood/injury and death, sexually suggestive content. minors should not read or interact.

Vilkas says it through gritted teeth. Every inch of his body is screaming for him to close the distance between you - it’s a couple measly steps, after all. Only a few steps keep him from kissing you but he refrains. He refuses to lose this little game you’ve been playing for weeks; dancing around each other, flirty comments and touches meant to get under the others skin, the constant heat simmering heat between you. It’s as exciting as it is infuriating.  “Please.” He finally breaks, fists clenched on the arms of his chair. Your little laugh makes his blood boil when you climb into his lap, hands combing through his hair to tilt his head back. He relishes your fingers trailing over his jaw and the victorious smile on your lips.  “Does this mean I won?” You tease, though he’s too distracted to be annoyed. It’s so easy to slide his hands over your hips and draw you in, to finally indulge in what he’s wanted for too long. 

Miraak is not one to plead - he only says it when he is broken, when he is on the verge of death and has nothing left but you. When his eyes are wide and terrified, ink stained fingers grasping your armor as the world tilts around you. Your blade rests at his throat just as the prophecy described. Whoever foretold your future did not expect you to hesitate, to look into those deep green eyes and feel your heart wrench.  “Please, Dragonborn.” Miraak pants, blood staining the front of his robes. “Allow me one more chance.” “Why should I trust you?” In your heart you know that it is fruitless, your blade never sought to kill him. The only wounds you’ve left are superficial, a warning that you are as strong as him.  “You shouldn’t.” Miraak admits, each breath bringing your blade dangerously close to his skin. “Look into your heart, Dragonborn. Please, allow me a chance to earn your trust.”

Farkas looks at you with stars in his eyes, cheeks flushed and an easy smile on his face. He’s so gentle when he holds your face, kissing you until you feel dizzy. He’s so warm and close, all your senses dominated by him. Sunlight peeks through the hastily shut curtains alerting you that you’re late but here you sit, sluggishly untangling your limbs from his.  “Please don’t go.” He murmurs into your skin between kisses, eager hands exploring every curve of you. “You don’t have to leave, not yet.”  “I do have to leave.” You insist, though it’s far too easy to fall back into bed with him. Strong arms are around you before you can blink, lips trailing up your shoulder to your throat as he smothers you in kisses.  “Stay with me, please.” Farkas insists. Against your better judgment, you do. 

Brynjolf, who learned so long ago to shove his needs aside for the sake of others. The man who doesn't dare ask for a thing if it doesn't benefit the Guild, begs for one more day. Hell, he'd take another minute. His tears have dried, muscles sore from sobbing and pleading with whatever god bothers to listen to him. None answered, so his pleas are solely for you. "Please, love. Don't do this to me." He mumbles, stumbling through the snow. Mercer hadn't even bothered to bring your body back, leaving Brynjolf with a long trek. "Don't leave me." A senseless little spark of home remains in his heart - you cannot be dead. Surely he would have felt it. "Please, just come back. We'll figure it all out. I'm almost there, I'll get you home safe. Just hold on a little longer for me."

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.

a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!

this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!

i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.

The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.

After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.

He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.

As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.

Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.

"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.

Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.

He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.

"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.

Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.

"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"

"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."

Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.

It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.

"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.

"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"

Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.

"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.

"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."

"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.

Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.

As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.

Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.

Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.

All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.

One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.

He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.

"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.

As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.

Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.

You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."

You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'

"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."

"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.

Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.

It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.

"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.

"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.

You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."

Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."

"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.

Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.

"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.

A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.

"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.

"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."

Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.

Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.

You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.

He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.

One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.

Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.

"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.

"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.

You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"

You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.

"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.

"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.

"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.

"Deal."

Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.

This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.

"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.

Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.

"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.

"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.

You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.

"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?

"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.

It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.

"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.

"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.

Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.

"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.

Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.

"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.

He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?

He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"

"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.

"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.

"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.

If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."

A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.

"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.

You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"

Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'

"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.

"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.

"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."

"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.

It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.

He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.

You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.

The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.

"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.

"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.

"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.

"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.

He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.

He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.

The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.

Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.

"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.

"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.

"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.

"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.

"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.

"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.

Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."

"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.

"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."

Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."

Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.

"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.

"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.

"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.

"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.

Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."

"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.

"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.

"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.

"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.

"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.

Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.

"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.

"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."

"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.

"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.

"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.

Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.

He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.

Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.

As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.

When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.

You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.

You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.

You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.

"Are you going far?"

"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.

You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"

"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.

"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.

"You really don't have to…"

"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.

Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."

"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.

You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.

As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.

You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.

Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.

"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.

"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.

"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.

"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.

"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.

"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.

"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.

Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.

"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."

Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"

"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.

"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."

Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.

Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"

Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."

"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.

Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.

Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.

"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.

"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.

Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.

It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.

He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.

"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.

"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.

"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.

"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"Late night?"

"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"

"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.

There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.

"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.

You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.

"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."

Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.

Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.

"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.

"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.

"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."

"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"

"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.

"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.

"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.

Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.

"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.

"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.

The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.

"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"

It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.

"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.

"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.

"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.

"So, rebellion or something else?"

"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."

"Did it work?"

"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."

Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"

"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.

Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.

"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.

"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."

Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'

"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.

Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.

"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.

Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."

Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.

"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.

"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.

"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.

"Night," he whispers.

As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.

Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.

As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.

The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?

He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.

When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."

You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.

"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.

"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.

You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.

"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.

"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.

Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.

He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.

As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."

"You sure?" He asks once more.

If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."

"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.

When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.

Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.

"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.

"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.

"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.

"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.

Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.

"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.

Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.

Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."

"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.

"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.

Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.

"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.

Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"

Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."

"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."

"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.

"Yes, chef!"

Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?

His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.

Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.

If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.

One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.

You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.

"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.

When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.

It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.

They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.

Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.

Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.

With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'

He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.

His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.

Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.

You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.

Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.

"Chef, your girl is here."

"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.

"Here you go."

Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.

I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear

"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.

"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, Chef!"

Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.

"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.

Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too, Neil!"

"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.

Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"

"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.

"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.

"What about your famous pizza?"

"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"

"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.

"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.

"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.

You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.

"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.

"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.

"That rough," you grimace.

"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.

"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.

He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.

Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.

His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.

"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.

"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.

Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.

The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.

"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.

"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.

Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.

You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.

Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.

This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.

He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'

He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.

"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?

Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."

"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.

"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.

"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.

The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.

His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.

Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.

"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.

"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.

What good does he have to offer you?

"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."

You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.

His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."

Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.

You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.

"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.

"Then don't."

Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.

It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.

Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.

"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.

"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.

Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.

He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.

Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.

"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.

"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.

Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.

"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.

Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.

His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.

You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.

He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.

The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.

"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.

"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.

Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.

"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.

Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."

Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.

Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.

Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.

He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.

With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.

His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.

Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.

"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.

Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.

It's been so fuckin' long.

With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.

"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.

"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.

Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.

"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.

You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.

The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.

"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.

Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.

"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.

"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.

Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.

"Carmen, please."

"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.

"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.

"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."

"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.

Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.

With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.

Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.

Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.

"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.

Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.

His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.

Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.

"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.

"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?

Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.

"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."

He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.

Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.

"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.

You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.

He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.

"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.

A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.

For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.

You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.

Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?

"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.

"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.

You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.

Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.

A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.

"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.

Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.

A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.

"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.

"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.

"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.

Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.

As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.

"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."

Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.

Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.

"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.

Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.

"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.

"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.

"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.

Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.

"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"

"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.

You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.

When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.

The End?

thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.

if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!

thank you! bye xx

[elllisaaa]

TEACHER'S PET - J. YUNHO

SUMMARY : being a fan of Jane Austen's novels, you should have guessed that your attraction for complicated love stories would put you in trouble at some point. but you wouldn't have imagined that the trouble in question would be named Jeong Yunho - your favourite professor.

-> pairing : literature professor!yunho x student fem!reader

-> words count : 30.4 k

-> genre : college au, smut & angst

-> warnings (w. some spoilers of the plot) : soft!dom!yunho x sub!reader, teasing, dirty talk, praising, marking, hair pulling, doggy, protected and unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, use of 'good girl' and 'slut', oral (f. and m. receiving), deep throating, cum play, manhandling, fingering, begging, riding, semi-public sex, yunho has a big cock, hand kink, facefucking, drunk sex, yunho is calling reader angel (yes, that's a warning), age gap (8 years), mention of fwb relationship w. san, cheating, mentions of family issues, self-depreciation

+ the way i'm depicting yunho does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> author's note : should i say sorry for the enormous word count ? maybe. will i apologize ? not at all because i'm so fucking proud of this fic. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written, i quite fell in love with reader this time lmaoo. i started the process of the plot back in january, and it took me more than 3 months to write this but it's amazing in my opinion, so i hope you'll like it as much as i loved writting it ! also that is such a detail but yes, prices are in euros in this fic because i'm french and i cannot physically write dollars and not feel weird, i'm sorry, bear with it. i should also say sorry for the angst but it don't wanna either, i already cried to myself when i put it into words, it's your turn to suffer.

-> playlist : older by isabel larosa - white mustang by lana del ray - crazy in love by sofia carlberg - middle of the night by elley duhé - reflections by the neighborhood - daddy issues by the neighborhood - babydoll by ari abdul - easier by bernard park - i love you by billie eilish

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist

Jeong Yunho had been the big sensation and the object of all conversations since he started teaching at your university. It was during your freshman year that he joined your college as the new professor of British literature. And honestly, just knowing that you wouldn’t be forced to listen to an old man repeating the same story about how he almost won the Pulitzer Prize twenty years ago over and over was already a relief. But the fact that your new teacher was also very attractive did get you even more interested in his classes. 

Of course, at first, you were like all the other girls on campus, gushing over how handsome Mr. Jeong was, and how well the suits he always wore were perfectly fitting his tall frame. But you quickly discovered a dedicated and very good professor. He helped your whole promotion to go over all the things your old teacher should have presented to you, and thanks to him, you passed your exams. So even if you couldn’t ignore that he was very, very hot, you were mostly glad to have a professor as passionate as you about literature - his handsomeness was only the cherry on top. 

Every time you had a class with him, you knew that this was about to be a good day, because they were always stimulating and never boring. And maybe, just maybe it was because you were always trying to contradict him. In your defense, Mr. Jeong always led you to approach a new subject with an interesting or controversial point of view, and you were often disagreeing, or had things to say about it. And since not many people in your class were really interested in British literature and were only here to admire your teacher for one or two hours, it was not rare for him and you to end up debating about anything and everything. And today was no exception.

“- What do you want me to say Y/N ? This is how things are, I can’t change them.

- Then you’ll have to convince me, Mr. Jeong.”

Your professor chuckled while shaking his head. You were always like this, always trying to get him to surrender and admit that you had the right answer. Yunho didn’t really understand if it was because you liked to be right or simply because you loved a little bit of challenge, but either way, he appreciated how attentive you were to his classes, and how you were trying to question everything every single time. It was stimulating for the class, for you, and even for him. 

“- In this precise case, it is not my job to do that. The fact that you have your opinion on the subject is a very good thing, but there is no right or wrong answer. What we are trying to do here is simply to interpret what message Poe wanted to convey, we can never be sure if our interpretation is the one he had in mind. And I would love to continue this debate but it’s time for you to go, so don’t forget to read the extract of Wuthering Heights I gave you and I’ll see you next week.” 

You rapidly packed up your things to run back to your dorms. Friday often meant a girl’s night out with your two best friends, and you wanted to have enough time to get ready. You three always got to the same bar where you met each other, one of the first nights you went out during your first year of college. You crossed paths with Lola first, the barmaid having messed up both of your cocktail orders. And both of you clicked instantly, despite her being two years older than you. At one point, while you were dancing together, you noticed a girl alone being clearly annoyed by a guy who repeatedly tried to touch her. So your new friend and you acted like you knew her and forced the guy to go away. It turned out that the girl you had kind of saved, Dia, was in the same major as you. You ended up spending the night all together and you kept in touch after that.

And despite Lola having finished her studies before Dia and you, she stayed around the city because of her work. So once in a while, you took the opportunity to go out at the bar where you met. And tonight was one of those nights, and after the exhausting week you had, you kinda needed it anyway. Your roommate, Dajeong, helped choose your outfit and you got ready together because she was also going out with some of her friends, chatting about your days and the new rumours about the basketball team. And of course, you had to dress up a little, putting on a skimpy, little black dress that did wonders to underline the curves of your body. During these concert nights you were going to, there were always a lot of pretty attractive men playing instruments, and that kinda got you going. So you didn’t put away the thought of finishing the night in someone else’s bed. 

Dia picked you up to go to the bar where you joined Lola and immediately ordered your favourite drink. It felt good to finally rest after the awful week you had. It all started on Monday, when you slept in and missed your first class of the morning. And because you had to rush to the second, you forgot your lunch at home and the charger of your laptop. On Thursday, you forgot about the work session you had with some of your classmates for a group project and arrived late. And finally one of your professors claimed to be disappointed in you because you handed him your assignment one hour late because you had an unplanned class at the due date. So yeah, you really needed this drink with your friends. 

“- So I didn’t warn you beforehand, but I’m gonna sing on stage tonight !”

You looked at Lola, dumfounded, while Dia squealed excitedly beside you. Your older friend had tried to make her music known for the past year and it was finally starting to work out for her. Lola was incredibly talented, so you were certain that she would succeed and you were also very very happy for her, a big smile stretching your lips as you gave her a hug.

“- Girl ! That’s incredible ! I’m so proud of you, you deserve it !”

Dia joined your hug, the three of you giggling.

“-  I’m so fucking exited, we were waiting for it !”

It was still a little early, but the bar was already filled with people, and even if it was still pretty cold outside, you were immediately hit by a wave of heat as soon as you stepped in. You really loved the atmosphere of these kinds of nights, where everyone was friendly because they were only there to spend a good time. Lola had to go backstage to get ready, but you quickly stumbled on some of Dia’s friends with whom you talked for a while and since the vibes matched, you decided to stay together to enjoy the concert. One guy had particularly tried to get your attention, and you weren’t mad about it with how good he looked. He was very tall, and could seem intimidating but whenever he smiled or laughed, you could see how kind and sweet he was. While he was saying something to one of his friends, you quickly tapped on Dia’s shoulder.

“- Hey, what’s the name of your friend that’s very tall ?”

She answered you with a smirk, and mischievous glint in his eyes when she leaned towards you.

“- Why ? Does he interest you ?

- Maybe. So ?

- His name’s Mingi. Have fun girl.”

You slapped her arm lightly, rolling your eyes at her comment. But truly, you didn’t mind the playful bantering between the two of you, loving it even. You let her go back to her conversation while you offered yourself and Mingi another drink since you had finished your beer long ago. It happened that Mingi was just as interesting as you thought he would be, and you even spent the first few performances of the night simply talking with him, too immersed in the discussion to acknowledge your surroundings. It’s only when Lola got up on stage that you started to pay attention, cheering for her after she introduced herself to the public. 

And honestly, she nailed it, hyping the crowd like she did that for her whole life. Dia and you surely clapped and screamed for her the loudest. Lola came to you as soon as she got off the stage, hugging both of you and thanking you for coming to see her and cheering for her. She looked the happiest when she was singing, and you couldn’t be more proud of her as all of Dia’s friends were congratulating and praising her. And from this point on, you didn’t have many clear memories, only knowing that you got drink after drink, getting more comfortable with each one. 

Usually, you wouldn’t be all over someone you had just met, but Mingi was really a good guy, he was attractive and you were drunk, so you didn’t mind the way he was kissing you shamelessly, only kissing him back and letting him roam his hands all over your body. But as always when you were tipsy, your mind was jumping from one thing to another. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t see neither Lola nor Dia around anymore, all you wanted was another drink right now.

“- I’m gonna get one more beer, want one ?”

Mingi tried to stop you when you got up, stumbling a little while standing on your feet, the world spinning all around you.

���- Don’t you think you already drank enough Y/N ?

- You’re cute worrying about me ! I’m okay ! I’ll be back in a minute !”

You were practically screaming, and even with the loud music and voices of people around you, you were very loud, making your way over to the bar while chuckling to yourself the whole time. You dropped onto one of the stools in front of the bar, ordering yourself another beer. It’s only when you turned your head on your right side that you noticed someone you knew quite well. 

“- Mr. Jeong !”

The said Mr. Jeong was straddled by your loud voice and even more by your body colliding with his as you kind of dropped your weight on him, circling him with your arms as if you were trying to hug him. For a few seconds, your teacher remained frozen in place, not knowing how to react, before his brain seemed to reactivate again, and pushed you off of him, holding you by your shoulders. Only a quick look at your flushed cheeks, lazy smile and glossy eyes was enough for him to guess that you were drunk. 

“- Y/N ? 

- That’s me ! What are you doing here though ? Teachers are not supposed to go out !”

Yunho couldn’t help but laugh quietly at your behaviour. You were always so neat and put together during his classes, always so focused and organised. So to see you let loose like this, wearing a skimpy little dress, obviously very drunk and your speech so slurred it was actually hard to understand you, was really a shock. 

“- You’ll be surprised to know that I have a life outside of being your teacher.”

Yunho knew that he shouldn’t find the pout on your lips cute, but he did. 

“- ‘m not surprised, you too hot to be a teacher.”

He blamed the alcohol for the way his heart started beating faster at your comment, and even more when you leaned against him once again, breathing in his scent. 

“- ‘m so tired… 

- Where are your friends ? Maybe they can get you home.

- Don’t know…”

You were starting to feel really dizzy. And not the kind of daze when you’re just feeling the agreable effects of all the drinks you had, it was the kind of daze when you’re starting to feel bad, when your head starts to hurt and all you want is your bed and silence. Yunho tried to observe the crowd and spot the friends he usually saw you hanging with around campus, but no one was in sight. So he stood up, paying for his last drink, before helping you walk towards the exit. 

“- Where we going ?

- I’m driving you home. You’re clearly drunk and you lost your friends, it’s not safe for you to stay here alone.” 

You were too far gone to be embarrassed about your behaviour, or to resist too much, so you let your professor drag you to his car and help you get inside, even buckling up your seat belt for you. You only find it in yourself to give him your address, and text Dia to warn her that you were getting home before dozing off. Yunho had to wake you up when he parked in front of your dorm. 

“- We’re here, Y/N.”

You whined, claiming you were comfortable and didn’t want to move, that it was cold outside and the heat in his car was far much better. Yunho sighed while getting out of the car. Helping one of his drunk students get home was not really on his bingo card of the week, but he couldn’t risk you getting in a dangerous situation. He opened the car door on your side after having taken off his jacket, handing it to you as he helped you get out of the vehicle. No words were exchanged as you put on the black leather jacket that was obviously ten times too big for you, drowning your silhouette inside of it. But you could feel the warmth that Yunho’s body had left, and it made the cold of the wind outside less chilly. 

“- You will be alright to get inside alone ?”

You nobbed your head, the nap you took during the way back to your dorm having sobered you up a little. Now, all you wanted was to wrap yourself in your sheets because you were starting to feel the second-hand embarrassment of this whole situation. 

“- Thank you Mr. Jeong.

- You’re welcome Y/N, drink water and take a lot of rest, okay ?”

You nobbed once again, feeling your cheeks heating up when he pressed your shoulder lightly. You didn’t find anything to answer so you decided to simply get inside, not seeing how Yunho kept an eye on you until he was sure you got inside, and only did he drive off. When you pushed the door open, Dajeong was not back from her party yet, so you were met with a silence that instantly eased your headache. You rummaged through the drawers of the kitchen to find some painkillers and a glass of water, gulping the medication down before heading straight to your room. You hadn’t the energy to take off your makeup, nor your outfit, slipping in bed with Yunho’s jacket still on. But it smelled good, it was so warm, like a little cocoon you loved to be wrapped into. And maybe that was why you dreamed of him that night.

The days after this hell of a night, you were hit with the most terrible feeling of embarrassment and guilt you’ve ever felt. Embarrassment because it was definitely what you should feel after having to be driven home by one of your teachers because you were too drunk, and at that, a very attractive and smart teacher - and also your favourite one. Also to be seen in a state like this by him had you mortified. You always tried to remain serious and professional in front of Mr. Jeong, and you never wanted your personal life to interfere like that with your studies. Guilt because he was certainly there to enjoy his own night out and you wrecked that by forcing him to look after you like a little child. You even threw a tantrum because it was too cold, and every time you saw the jacket you even had the audacity to sleep into, you felt even more bad and ashamed of yourself. You didn’t even dare tell Dia and Lola who helped you get home, claiming it was only a guy you knew. 

You also didn’t want rumors to spread. They were fast to go around students, and if you handed Mr. Jeong his jacket back after his class, it would have been enough for people to believe that you two were in a relationship. So you decided to go and see him after his classes in his office, to be sure that you wouldn’t be bothered. You had buried his jacket at the bottom of your bag, as if everyone had X-Ray vision and could see what was inside, walking as fast as you could through the hallways. You had done nothing wrong, but it still felt like it and you had to mentally prepare yourself for the conversation that was going to happen. 

The door was open when you arrived at his office, but you still knocked on it lightly to signal your presence. Mr. Jeong immediately looked up from the assignments he was grading, smiling when he saw it was only you.

“- Come on in Y/N, and close the door behind you.”

You were fairly unable to utter a word, sticking to nodding your head as you did what he told you. Usually, when you came to his office, you would immediately sit down, but you didn’t feel at ease at all today, too shameful to even look at Mr. Jeong in the eyes. 

“- Do you feel better than this weekend ? You didn’t seem very well yesterday either.”

The fact that he was still worrying about you was making you feel even more uncomfortable. 

“- Uh, yes, thank you. Actually I came by to apologise for my behaviour. I was very drunk, and I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. Thank you so much for driving me home, and again, I’m sorry for how I acted and if I said anything disrespectful to you. And here’s your jacket, I washed it for you. And again, I’m so, so sorry.”

You got the jacket out of your bag, putting it on his desk, neatly folded. Your heart was beating unsteady and your breathing was loud. You couldn’t even remember if you actually said anything weird to him, but knowing you and how you had no filter when you were wasted, you surely did. Mr. Jeong stood up to get his jacket back, hanging it on the back of his desk chair. The smile on his lips was reassuring and sweet, and he didn’t seem mad at all, but you couldn’t help the anxiousness from taking over you.

“- It’s not that bad, it has already happened to everyone to be drunk and do stupid things, believe it or not, it happened to me too.

- To bother your teacher because you were completely wasted ?”

Yunho chuckled at your remark, and he was happy to see a small smile spread on your face too. You were always trying to not look him in the eyes since the beginning of the week, and you seemed very embarrassed when Yunho didn’t want you to be. He did that out of kindness, because you were one of his favourite students and also because he couldn’t let you alone when you were in this state, he couldn’t have looked at himself in a mirror if he had let you without anyone to look after you when you were so vulnerable. 

“- Maybe not, but you get my point. It didn’t bother me, and you didn’t say anything strange, don’t worry. We can just forget all about that if you prefer, but I can assure you that you did not do anything wrong Y/N, I’m just happy I was able to get you home safely.”

Your shoulders immediately relaxed, and it was as if you could breathe more easily. You knew that your professor was honest, that he wouldn’t lie to you about something like that. 

“- Thank you so much for taking care of me. I gotta go for my next class now, but really, I’m very grateful Mr. Jeong.

- No problem, just be more careful next time.

- Of course. Have a good day !”

He greeted you back, watching as you left his office and closed the door behind you. And finally, Yunho allowed himself to slump back in his desk chair, sighing loudly. He didn’t lie to you, didn’t tell you that to make you feel better. Except the fact that you did say that you found him hot. That compliment really messed up with his mind. You were always so serious and focused during his classes, and of course, it was obvious you wouldn’t spend your weekends locked up in your room, but seeing you like this was so new, so unusual. The way you looked at him, the way you touched him, the way your dress was riding your thighs up, the way his jacket was now smelling like your intoxicating perfume - the scent of you invading the room little by little. Everything about this was making him see you in a whole different light. 

The only thing Yunho promised himself when he became a professor was to never, ever, find one of his students attractive. Maybe it was because he was young, and much closer to your age when he started teaching, and that he quickly noticed the eyes some of the girls were giving him. Anyway, he swore on his dignity and morals that he would never have this type of thoughts about a student. But now that he got to see you in your skimpy black dress, which was hugging every one of your curves perfectly, while looking him in the eyes and confessing how hot he was may have him reconsidering his decision.

He knew he shouldn’t see you this way, he knew he shouldn’t search your profile on instagram, knew that he shouldn’t look at your photos nor check you out in your pretty little outfits that you loved to post. But he did it anyway, scrolling through your account as if he was a teenager all over again. And when he stumbled over the photos you posted this summer, body on display in your little bikinis, he knew he had to stop before his thoughts started to drift to places he shouldn’t. Because it was dirty, it was disgusting and he shouldn’t think about you, his student, this way. This should have been enough to stop his mind from going back to this night, but it didn’t. And Yunho felt incredibly bad for not being able to control himself.

You felt a little better since your conversation with Mr. Jeong, reassured that you did not say anything weird to him, and that you haven’t made him uncomfortable. That didn’t ease your mind from the fact that you slept in his jacket and even had the nerves to feel cosy because you were surrounded by his scent. But you tried your best to forget it all, just like he advised you to, even if you had to be honest and admit that you did often think about the way he held you by your waist when he helped you walk to his car. 

You shook your head as you tried to concentrate back on the synopsis of the book you had in hand right now. You decided to go to a book shop with Dia this afternoon after your classes. It was something you loved to do together from time to time, always promising yourself that you won’t buy anything but coming back home with at least one new book anyway. You were not paying attention to your surroundings, entirely focused on the book you were looking at, and you didn’t feel it when someone came up behind you. 

“- I see that you’re very dedicated to my classes Y/N.”

You turned around quickly, not needing to see him to recognize the familiar voice of your teacher. He was standing there, dressed more casually than the usual suits he was always wearing for class, only in black pants and a creamy sweater. You tried not to make the blush on your face obvious as you composed yourself before answering. 

“- Well, your recommendations are always great Mr. Jeong, so I might listen to you once again. But only if it gets me one bonus point on my next assignment.”

Yunho couldn’t help the cheeky smile that spreaded on his face whenever you teased him. It wasn’t the behaviour students should have towards their teacher, but he liked it too much to ask you to stop. 

“- You know very well that I don’t get corrupted this easily. 

- And if I bring you some chocolate ?

- Then I might reconsider your proposal.”

You were ready to add something when you were interrupted by the loud ringtone of your phone. You excused yourself and turned around to answer the call. Yunho didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation with a certain “Sannie”, but at the same time, if it was that private, you would’ve walked away, right ? He wondered if you were used to giving surnames like that to every one of your friends or if this guy could be your boyfriend. But why would that interest him in the first place anyway ? It wasn’t like he cared if you were single or taken. And it was none of his business, but still, the question slipped past his lips when you hung up. 

“- Was that your boyfriend ?

- Oh, no, not at all ! San is my best friend, he has been since we were kids.”

Yunho only nodded, already feeling the second-hand embarrassment of asking such a personal and inappropriate question. He needed to get out of here so you didn’t notice the way his ears were heating up, and you gave him the perfect opportunity to do just that. 

“- I have to go but I’ll get this one. 

- Feel free to share your thoughts about it. 

- I’ll do it, thank you. Have a good day Mr. Jeong. 

- You too Y/N.”

And you left with a warm smile, asking yourself if you would have a stranger interaction than this one in your life. How come that one of the most handsome men you’ve ever met, who also happened to be your teacher, wanted to know about your love life ? You didn’t know how to handle this fact, didn’t know why he asked you that either. But it was messing with your head, making you think about things you shouldn’t, about things you never even considered before this night. Well, that was a bit of lying to yourself. Because you did think about him in this light before, did dream about him touching you in such inappropriate ways for a teacher and his student. But you pushed these thoughts away, not ready to dig into why he was making you feel like that and wouldn’t leave your mind.  

And Yunho couldn’t help thinking the same : how he didn’t see you like that before having you all pliant in his hold, before seeing you wearing your little black dress, before hearing you calling him hot. But if he was honest with himself, he did think that you were pretty during the first class you had with him. He did think on numerous occasions that you were smart and the kind of person he would love to go out with. But he couldn’t. Because he was your teacher, and because he was a lot much older than you. It would be inappropriate. 

Even with all of these considerations in mind, Yunho couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you every time you stepped a foot into his classroom. He tried to be as subtle as possible because he didn't want to make this situation even weirder than it already was, especially for you. Little did he know you did the same, observing him every time he wasn’t looking your way, struggling to not blush whenever you felt his eyes on you. And Yunho kept telling himself that he couldn’t do that, that it was not right to look at you the way he did, to think about the things he was thinking about every time his eyes landed on you. But he couldn’t stop it. It felt wrong, but for some kind of reason, he was unable to forget about you. 

“- Did the Mr. Jeong hype finally get to your head ?”

You wiped your head towards Dia, heart beating unsteady. She couldn’t know about what happened almost three weeks ago, right ? No she couldn't have guessed, except maybe if someone saw him driving you home. But your friend only chuckled and slapped your arm when she saw the defeated expression on your face.

“- You look like you saw a ghost ! It’s alright bestie, I wouldn’t judge you for finding him handsome, it’s a fact everyone already established.

- Why are you saying that now ?

- Because you’ve become very distracted whenever we have classes with him, and you don’t participate as much as before. Is it because you finally see him like we all do ?”

You groaned and shook your head, but Dia was too close to the truth to not unsettle you. You knew that you did nothing wrong, that it was normal to think that your obviously very attractive teacher was, in fact, very attractive. But you couldn’t kill the guilt creeping in every time you looked at his hands handing back the papers a little too long, or when you caught yourself wondering if his skin smelt as good as his leather jacket did. 

“- First, I’ve never said that he isn’t good looking, and second, I have enough decency to not drool over him during said classes.”

Lie. It was a complete lie. But Dia didn’t need to know that. She didn’t need to know that your professor had invaded your thoughts in a way you didn’t think would be possible, and in a way that was definitely not appropriate. 

“- Decency doesn’t exist when he enters the equation.”

She was not entirely wrong, but you couldn’t let her win, because it would be like admitting to yourself that you did thirst over your teacher, more than you would like to. Luckily for you, Yunho quickly started his class and strangely enough, for the first time since the bar incident, you succeeded in following everything he was saying and not getting too distracted by his hands, or by his smile. 

“- Before I let you go, I wanted to inform you that I decided to create a debate club. I’m aware of what you must all think about these : that they are boring and never pick the subjects you want to discuss. That’s why you’ll be the ones to propose the subjects we will tackle, and you’ll be free to talk about anything you want. It can be music, politics, literature - anything. As long as you respect each others’ opinions, it’s okay for me. If you’re interested, write your name on the sheet on my desk before leaving and that’s all for today. Thank you for your attention, and have a good day.”

Conversations about Mr. Jeong’s propositions were already erupting all around the classroom. You spotted some serious students you already had study sessions with writing down their names, and a bunch of girls who just wanted to check out the teacher for one more hour per week. Dia already warned you that she didn’t have the time to engage in such activities, but you thought it couldn’t be that bad of an idea. After all, you really loved to discuss with people, and this was the perfect occasion to do so. And no, it was not because your professor will be there. Not at all. It only happened that he will animate the whole thing, it was only a coincidence. You got a pen out of your bag and started to write down your name when his now familiar voice interrupted you.

“- I could’ve bet on this.”

You didn’t dare lift your head and meet his gaze, because locking eyes with him in class was one thing - he was far away from you - but having him so close to you suddenly made you nervous. 

“- Am I so predictable ?

- A little, but I’m not complaining. I know that at least one person will actually come and that I will not be alone.”

This time, you had no other choice but to look at him as you had finished writing your name and had no excuse to look at the piece of paper anymore. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this, but your heart still missed a beat when your eyes finally dived into his. You quickly avoided his gaze, pretending to put your pen back in your bag while you searched in your brain to offer him a clever response. 

“- You know me, I’m always here when it comes to debating. 

- I wouldn’t have expected less from you Y/N.”

The way he said your name shouldn’t have made you blush, but it did. You rapidly excused yourself before literally running away from the classroom and all these feelings that shouldn’t invade your mind. It even made you hesitate on your decision to join the debate club. But you didn’t want Mr. Jeong to think that you were not serious. So you went anyway. And even if, as you predicted, not that many people showed up, you still had a good time. You were even able to not think about him in ways you shouldn’t too often. That was until he insisted on giving you all his personal phone number, so he could organise things more easily and give you the opportunity to see museums or expositions you could later discuss on. That was a perfectly sensible decision, obviously.

However, that night when you laid in your bed and couldn’t fall asleep, your fingers hovered over his contact. It was stupid to even think about it. Why would you even send him a text ? And to say what ? Ask him if he had a good day ? Or if he planned anything for the next reunion ? It was stupid, yeah. But you were one click away from sending a text. You threw your phone to the other side of your bed, running your hands over your face. You were so stupid. Stupid for thinking about Jeong Yunho as anything else than your teacher, stupid for thinking that he would even look your way, stupid for thinking that you were any different from all the girls who were swooning over him. You were just like them and even worse. 

The next meeting with the debate club came too quickly for your liking as you were not mentally prepared enough to see the teacher you couldn’t help thinking about all day long. But this was not what occupied your mind today. No. It was this one girl who thought that she was always right just because she said so. Ever since Mr. Jeong announced that the subject was going to be about music and the sense of community it could create, she hadn't shut up, interrupting everyone as if her opinion was more important. And she wouldn’t stop whining about the fact that music was too commercial these days and that there was nothing original anymore, when her playlist was essentially composed of trending songs and Taylor Swift (not that you had something against the girl, you loved some of her songs, but she was far from not being commercial.) And when you tried to argue that, no, music was not only commercial, that there were still good artists and groups that did it because they truly enjoyed and loved making music, she would get mad. Everytime someone else would defend your point of view, she would accuse them of teaming up against her. 

And you were actually a little mad at your teacher for not jumping in and telling something to this girl who was clearly being unreasonable. You ended up saying that you didn’t want to talk anymore, because even if you were not one to give up, you clearly noticed that you couldn’t win this time. You spent the rest of the debate sulking and stealing glances at Mr. Jeong, who was just observing the chaos. You didn’t understand why he would not intervene, and yes, you got that he wanted to let everyone express their opinions, but was it relevant in this case ? You packed up your things rather quickly ; this whole situation put you into a bad mood, and you just wanted to forget it. 

“- Y/N ? Are you alright ?”

His voice straddled you as he came closer to you, letting all the other students go out behind the two of you.

“- Oh, uh, yeah, I’m good. Just a little frustrated, but it’s alright.

- I understand, but this moment is also made for that, even if you’re not agreeing with her, you have to respect it. 

- I know, I don’t have a problem with her not being on my side, I just don’t like it when people victimise themselves to make me feel bad and let them have the last word. That’s not what a debate is about.”

You tried to stay focused on your bottle of water in your hands, and to not stare at him too much. He was wearing one of his black suits once more, and even more since the bar incident, it was doing something to you. 

“- Well, I can’t say you’re wrong, but not everyone here is as mature as you are. You have to take it into consideration. And it is by talking with people like you that people like her will get it and grow up.”

You shrugged, turning your head to the side because you couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. You knew deep down that he was right, but you were too frustrated to admit it right now. 

“- I’ll let you sleep on that Y/N, but don’t let it deter you from coming next time, your interventions are important and I value them. A lot.”

You nodded before saying your goodbyes and quite literally running away from him, once again. He couldn’t make you feel so frustrated you wanted to break something, and the next second made your heart beat like crazy. Because his words surely did. You knew by the way he was often relying on your answers in class that he must appreciate you as a student, but to be aware that he also liked who you were as a person was something else. It was getting bad, really bad, because you couldn’t keep under control the feelings he made appear in you. And you knew it was wrong, knew that he was your teacher, knew that he probably - surely - didn’t feel the same, but you were already in too deep. 

And Yunho couldn’t help thinking the same as he watched you go away. He shouldn’t feel such attraction for his students, and he shouldn’t try to get closer to you, and he shouldn’t try to do all these things that led you to be alone with him. But still, he chose the next subject because he knew he would get a reaction out of you, because he knew it would get you all passionate about it and he loved when you were like this. 

He didn’t miss his shot because you were the first to talk when he announced that today’s session will be about Jane Austen and feminism. Yunho knew she was one of your favourite authors as you often quoted her in your assignments and used her novels as examples, so he was even aware of your opinion on them. Thus as he was regularly doing during his classes, he decided to go against your views, just to see how you would react. It was wrong to do it only to see you get passionate and involved and slightly mad at him - because you both knew that he already told you that he agreed with your ideas. 

“- I understand what you’re saying Y/N, but the fact that Austen never got married but still insisted on talking about marriage in every one of her novels could also show that it was a dream of hers, and not feminism.”

Again, you were feeling so frustrated against your teacher. But this time, it was directed straight to him. You couldn’t figure out why he would do this, nor why he was so dedicated to debating with you in particular, and not with all the other students that were agreeing with you. 

“- On this aspect, her personal life has nothing to do with it. On the contrary, it reinforces what she’s showing. In Pride and Prejudice for example, Lizzie doesn’t accept Darcy’s proposal until he changes and really proves that he loves her. Plus Darcy doesn’t do all these things so she would agree to marry him, he does it only because he loves her truly. She depicts marriage as something you should do out of love, the only happy marriages in her novels are the ones where the two parties are in love with each other. Like Jane and Bingley, and you can contrast with Lydia and Wickham and how their union is never shown as a good thing, for either them or the Bennets’. I think she never got married because she despised the men of her era, and that they wouldn’t meet her expectations, because she wanted a marriage of love, not of arrangement, or relationships or money. That’s why she is showing them so much in her books, because it reflects how she didn’t like the view on marriages during the Victorian era and the sexism she was surely enduring because of her being a writer and not trying to hide it.”

You barely breathed in between your sentences, and when you finally stopped talking, you felt like you just ran a marathon. Mr. Jeong’s gaze never left yours as you spoke, and the intensity of it was making butterflies come alive in your stomach. It was as if you could feel the tension emanating from him, from his eyes staring down at you. He seemed to snap out of his haze when someone voiced out their agreements to your little speech. And after that, he quieted down just as you did. But you could still feel him stealing glances at you, and you couldn’t help doing the same. 

He was wearing another one of his suits - a three piece grey suit, with thin, white strips on it. He had let go of the jacket a long while ago, and had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. And you knew you shouldn’t find that attractive, but you did. You did and it was wrong ; because he was your teacher, and because you were supposed to be a little mad at him for refuting the obvious. 

So like a replay of last week, you stayed back, taking your time to pack up your things and waiting until everybody else left to talk to him one on one. Maybe it wasn’t what a good and well behaved student should do, maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to do when you were feeling so attracted to him. Maybe. But you still carried on with your plan, trying to not get distracted by his handsome face, and his pretty hands arranging some papers on his desk. 

“- Why do you keep on pushing me to justify myself like that ? It’s embarrassing, and everyone was so silent afterwards, it was as if I said something wrong, and it’s not agreeable to feel like you are being ridiculous.”

You never had enough nerves to talk to one of your professors like that, but maybe it was the fact that you had a pretty shitty week, or that the way he was looking at you had you feeling some ways you didn’t want to, but you felt a sudden rush of energy and courage coursing through your veins.

“- You did not say anything stupid Y/N, it was very clever on the contrary. And the reason I keep doing that is because I know you have it in you to argue with me and produce this kind of well organised speech. That’s where I want to bring all of my students, but you can always improve and develop your skills. This is what I’m training you for.

- I’m not practising to go to war, Mr. Jeong. All this is not necessary if it makes us feel bad. And why would you do that in front of other students when we already talked about this in class and they all saw you agree with me ? 

- I told you, it’s only because I want you to be able to justify your answers with precise examples like you did today, because it’s important for your future assignments, for your thesis and even just in everyday life. 

- But you know I’m already able to do all that, so why would you seek out my responses everytime ? It feels like you’re targeting me.”

Your cheeks were heating up as time went on, not only because you felt hot from the way all his attention was entirely focused on you, but also because you were so frustrated you could’ve yelled at him. But you had to remind yourself that he was your teacher and that you couldn’t be that disrespectful, that this was the closest you could get to having an argument with him without getting kicked out of your university. He had come closer to you as the discussion progressed, and the sudden proximity between your two bodies didn’t help with your red cheeks. 

“- Yes, I’m targeting you, because I know you’re capable of coming up with things like this, and that you teach a lot to other people by doing so. I love to see you being passionate and invested in the subjects you’re talking about, it makes it fluid to listen to and to understand. Plus, that’s a debate club, disagreeing with you is my job here.”

You wanted to stay calm and collected so bad, wanted to stay as composed as he always was but you couldn’t help how he heightened all your emotions by his mere presence. And the compliments he was giving you didn’t help you relax either. 

“- Yes, okay, but not when you said you approved my views two weeks ago just to change your mind now and make me look like I’ve been talking nonsense all this time. 

- Don’t rely on me and my opinions Y/N, rely on you and what you’re thinking. Do not let other people dictate what you should think on a subject you know and love. 

- I know that, I’m not dumb, but you’re not just everyone else. You’re my teacher and you know what you’re talking about while I don’t. I’m only making assumptions and theories when you give us facts. It’s not the same. 

-  I don’t know it all, what we're making when talking about books and authors who are not here to confirm or deny is always assumptions. You know that I agree with what you said, you know my opinion on Austen and that’s all that matters. 

- But you made it look like what I was saying was irrelevant, you made me look like a fool and I don’t like it, especially when it’s coming from you.”

The two of you had gotten closer and closer, and you were now facing each other, with nothing in between to separate you anymore. Suddenly, you felt an overwhelming need to breathe in his scent, to take the step ahead that was distancing you from him and cut off the act. 

“- What do you mean especially when it’s coming from me ?”

Your breath accelerated when Yunho stepped forward one more time, getting way much closer than decency would allow. But you didn’t make any movement to escape. Because deep down, you wanted this, you craved this. You saw his hand coming up to your face before feeling his fingers brushing against the skin covering your jaw, leading you to raise your head and dive into his eyes. You’ve never seen him from this angle, but with the light of the late afternoon casting shadows on his face, he had never looked prettier.

“- I asked you a question, Y/N.

- I… It’s inappropriate, I shouldn’t say it, I shouldn’t even think about it.”

Despite your words that should deter him from going any further, he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, smearing your lip gloss. You could hear your own heart beating, aware of every breath you took and every movement of your body. When your eyes met his once again, it was as if adrenaline was spreading through your veins, a sensation that gave you the impression that you were flying. Your gaze flicked down to his lips one second too long for him not to notice and that was Yunho’s last straw as he let his hands drop down to your waist. 

“- I don’t think I should think about what is on my mind right now either.”

As if it was the hint you needed, you grabbed his neck to pull him down to your level. Your lips brushed against his one time, and the next time they met, it was for a real kiss. Yunho squeezed your waist tighter, tugging you closer to him as he let his desire take over his reason. He shouldn’t do that, but your lips tasted like the vanilla chapstick you were always putting on during his classes and that he was dying inside to kiss away. 

It was like your mouth had a mind on its own, kissing your teacher like your life depended on it. You weren’t thinking about the fact that anybody could come in and interrupt you, you weren’t thinking about the fact that what you were doing was forbidden. All you felt was the softness of his hair between your fingers, his large hands on your lower back, and his tongue playing with yours. It all felt too good to stop. 

“- Where are you going ?”

You were putting on your shoes when Dajeong’s voice interrupted you, a knowing smile on her lips. She knew very well where you were going every time you left late at night, during the weekends, she just wanted to tease you.

“- San invited me over, I’m gonna stay the night.

- Of course you are.”

She gave you a little slap on your ass before going back to the series she was watching on the living room TV. Usually, you would’ve laughed or been as excited as her to see your friend but not today. When San had proposed to you to come to his apartment to fool around, you weren’t surprised. It happened often, when neither of you wanted to be alone, when you needed someone to relieve the pressure. And most of the time, you really enjoyed the time you spent together, fooling around without any feelings. But tonight, it was for more selfish reasons that you said yes. 

Because when San was touching you, you were only able to think back to how Yunho’s fingers squeezing your waist felt. And when he kissed you, you could only think back to the way Yunho’s lips made your whole body come alive again. And when he fucked you, you wished it could be Yunho instead. You felt bad, both because you were using your friend to quit thinking about someone else, and because that someone else was your teacher. 

It shouldn’t have felt so good to kiss him, it shouldn’t have sparked a flame and made you crave more, it shouldn’t have made you want to drop to your knees for him. You should’ve been disgusted with yourself and what you did, you should’ve been apologising to him the very next day. But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate this moment, nor to forget it. It was engraved in your memory, enough for you to search him up on social media even when San was holding you in his arms, both of you still naked. It was wrong, once again, but you already crossed the line too many times to count, so who cared anymore ?

For a few weeks, you didn’t even dare to look at him too long, afraid to remember once again how delicious his lips felt on yours. And you didn’t feel his eyes following your every movement like you grew used to. It felt weird, to not have his gaze focused on you, and to see him avert even looking your way during each one of his classes. You stopped going to the debate class, and you stopped answering every one of his questions during lectures. 

And Yunho felt like he had fucked everything up. He should’ve stopped when he started to be attracted to you. He should’ve stopped when he started to seek out your presence even more. He should’ve stopped before kissing you. After you ran away last time, he considered sending you a text to apologise, and ask you to not say anything about what happened. But he didn’t, he wanted to let you breathe and have some time for yourself. Except that he started to get worried about the situation. You hadn’t tried to talk about it with him, you hadn’t come to the debate class since this incident. He spent all his time trying to figure out how to handle the mess he created. That was the question going through his mind once more when you stepped into his classroom for the debate club, looking around to see that no one except you and him were here. 

“- Uh… I’m sorry, did I miss something ?”

Yunho turned to you, and for the first time in weeks, he really looked at you, taking in your silhouette and your outfit - one of the little skirts you loved so much, and your signature black, thigh boots. He should’ve been stressed to see you again, anxious to have to talk to you about this kiss. But instead he felt relief wash over him, and it was like he could breathe again. He looked down at the paper covering his usually organised desk, realising that he had to answer you, even if his voice was shaking a little. 

“- I cancelled today’s reunion, I wasn’t feeling very well.”

You nodded your head, looking around the classroom as if you were searching for something. You debated in your head if you should address the subject with your teacher or not. You were too nervous to talk about it, afraid that he would act like it didn’t ever happen, or worse, as if it didn’t mean anything to him. You were about to go away, to run away, like the other time, when you heard his voice behind you, loud and clear. 

“- Wait ! Please, wait. We need to talk.”

You hesitated for a few moments, your hand hovering above the doorknob. Yunho saw your arm drop by your side before you turned around, taking some steps in his direction, and he was already relieved that you weren’t going to find him disgusting or scream at him. He didn’t need much time to figure out what he was going to tell you, having replayed this exact scene again and again in his head, too many times for his own good. 

“- I have to apologise for what happened last time. It was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, or to scare you away. And I’m also sorry for kissing you like that, it was wrong of me, I should’ve never done that. We can forget all about it, or you can do whatever you want because I’ve done enough to make things worse.”

You stayed silent, for seconds that felt like hours for Yunho. He prayed inside that you were going to forgive him, that you were going to tell him that it was okay, that you would simply not talk about it ever again and let him feel guilty about this for the rest of his life. 

“- It’s okay Mr. Jeong, it was a mistake, it could’ve happened to everyone. And I have some parts to take in this too. But I understand. It was a mistake anyway, it didn’t mean anything.” 

It didn’t mean anything. These were the words he unconsciously hoped you wouldn’t pronounce. Because even if he tried to deny it, it meant something to him. It meant so much that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It meant so much that everytime he sat at his desk, he thought back to the moment he kissed you. It meant so much that even weeks later, he still didn’t forget the taste of your lips, the feeling of having you so close to him. And he craved it. He needed it again. 

“- It’s okay if you want to think about it as a mistake.

- Why are you saying that ?

- Because for me it wasn’t.”

His eyes crossed yours, enough for him to see this little spark he noticed before he captured your lips last time. Maybe it wasn’t only a mistake for you either. Maybe he didn’t fuck it all up. Maybe he still had a chance to make this right, if there was any way to make all of this right.

“- It did mean something to me. I… I haven't stopped thinking about it. I can’t focus on anything else other than you.”

It was as if your breath was knocked out of your lungs again. He did that too much lately. But the intensity with which he was staring at you and your lips, and his confession had your heart feeling weak. And surely, you shouldn’t indulge in your fantasy. Surely, you shouldn’t let yourself get seduced by your teacher. But you were already in too deep, and you couldn’t ignore anymore the way he was making you feel. 

“- I can’t either. I think… I think you should kiss me again, maybe it’ll help.

- Maybe you’re right.”

Yunho bypassed his desk, and you joined him, throwing yourself in his arms. He cradled your face between his hands, and this time he didn’t hesitate when he put his lips on yours, sighing in relief when the taste of your vanilla chapstick invaded his senses again. And the way you were tugging at his suit jacket to pull him closer to you told him everything he needed to know. 

“- Fuck… I missed you so bad Y/N, thought I had messed up everything.”

You stared up at him, now able to see the lust, the desire he had for you going through his brown eyes, and it made your inside flip. You had dreamt about this so much, even if you would’ve rather died than admitted it. But it was true. You were dreaming about having him so close to you, about having him tell you how much he wanted you, about having him just like this. 

“- You didn’t, not at all.”

That was all the talking that was made. Because you already talked too much, and even if he loved hearing your soft voice, all Yunho needed right now was to taste you again, to drown himself in your body and your addicting, intoxicating scent. You didn’t stop him when he reached for your thighs to lift you up and drop you on his desk, not caring about the assignments sheets you were sitting on. 

You discovered the way his lips against yours felt again, savoured the way his tongue played with yours again. And you loved it just as much as the first time, maybe even more. Because this time, you were truly desperate to feel as much as him as possible. You reached to grab his waist, spreading your legs and bringing him even closer to you. And Yunho complied, because he was just as desperate to finally have you all for himself. He let his hands wander from your back to your thighs, and feeling up your bare skin under his fingers was already driving him crazy. 

You tilted your head to the side when Yunho displaced his kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your jawline and then the side of your neck. He was almost devouring you, but you weren’t complaining : it was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed. You felt his hands creep up higher, reaching for the hem of your skirt, and his hot breath hitting the now wet skin of your neck. 

“- Do you know how bad I wanted to do this every time you walked in my classroom wearing those skirts and these boots ? Do you know how hard it was to not think about doing exactly that whenever you were looking at me ?”

You let out a moan, not really knowing if it was because of what he just told you or because of the fact that he just gave you a hickey. Your heart was beating too fast, adrenaline rushing through your veins as Yunho kissed down your clothed-covered body, making his way to where his hands were still laying. But it was only when he dropped on his knees and pushed your legs apart some more that you realised what he was doing, your words getting stuck in your throat and being replaced by a pathetic whimper when he kissed the inside of your left thigh instead.

“- Is that okay ?

- Y-Yes Mr. Jeong.

- Call me Yunho, will you ?”

You quickly nodded your head, already far too gone because of his feather like touch everywhere except where you needed him the most. 

“- Good girl.”

And as if it wasn’t already enough to get another noise out of you, he pushed your skirt higher up your thighs, revealing your soaked panties to his hungry gaze. Immediately, he dived in, licking a strip of your arousal through the material of your underwear. This time, another moan escaped you and it encouraged Yunho to push the piece of clothing to the side and taste your juices for real. The groan he let out against your folds had you shivering ang trying to close your legs around his head. But he was holding them with an iron grip, making it impossible for you to move. 

You threw your head back when he sucked on your clit for the first time, one of your hands flying to take a hold of his hair, keeping him just where he was. He ate you out just like he kissed you - hungrily, like a starved man, like it was his last meal. And you were loving it all, trying to keep down your noises because anyone walking by the classroom could hear you and decide to walk in, and you could get in trouble. But the thrill of getting caught was making everything feel so much better. 

“- Feeling good, angel ?

- Yes, so good, don’t stop please…”

The nickname had your legs trembling in no time, and the way he was lapping at your cunt had you close to the edge already. You could feel your pussy clenching around nothing as he sucked on your clit again, making more of your juices come out that he didn’t waste any time licking up. The force with which he was holding your thighs open made you wonder if he could use the same strength to put you in all the positions he wished, if he would use the same strength on you to make you unable to move and fuck you until you passed out. 

“- Yunho… I’m close…”

He hummed against you, doubling his efforts to bring you to the edge. He didn’t need to do much, because you had been waiting for this for too long, and because he felt too good to resist. As you felt your orgasm wash over you, your hand that wasn’t busy in his hair gripped the first things you could reach - one of the paper scattered on his desk, and you couldn’t even feel guilty about the way you crumpled it between your fingers, the rush of pleasure taking over you so strongly you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else. 

When you had regained enough consciousness for your legs to support your weight again, Yunho helped you come down off his desk, his hands not leaving your waist even when you were standing in front of him. You smiled when you saw how much you had messed up his hair, as they were going in every direction, and you tried to smother it a little. 

“- Let me see you this week-end if you are free. I want us to talk, and I want to take my time with you, make you understand everything you make me feel.”

And you agreed. Of course. But you started to regret it when you found yourself all alone, in the room of the hotel Yunho had sent you the address of. You were aware that you couldn’t just welcome him at your dorm, or go to his apartment either, because there were risks that someone would recognize you. So here you were, waiting for him. Despite what had happened earlier this week, it still felt incredibly wrong to be there, to do what you were about to do. You looked around the room, where nothing felt familiar and everything felt odd, as if you shouldn’t be here. You were almost ready to leave when the door opened and Yunho entered. 

He was dressed in a pair of black pants, some sneakers and a beige pullover. His casual outfit clashed with the slightly revealing white dress you were wearing underneath your trench. And you felt ridiculous for thinking that putting on something like this was appropriate, though nothing about this situation was appropriate. 

“- I’m sorry, I couldn’t find anywhere to park my car.”

Yunho’s voice broke down the heavy silence hanging in the air, but it didn’t dissipate the strange atmosphere. The room was filled with tension, with unspoken words, with something dangerous and forbidden, but so tempting. 

“- It’s okay, I haven’t been here for long.”

The moment was awkward, neither one of you knowing what to do with themselves. You couldn’t tell him that you were about to leave when he arrived. And he couldn't tell you that the real reason he was late was because he hesitated before coming. But all it took was one eye contact, one look a little too insistent at each other for your lips to find themselves once again, as if they knew better than yourselves what you wanted. And suddenly, nothing felt weird anymore, nothing felt wrong anymore, and everything was finally fitting perfectly - from the way he was holding your waist, to the way the skin of his neck felt under your fingertips. 

“- I missed you.”

The words he whispered against your lips made you feel everything you’ve been needing without knowing it. And you thought that maybe, this wasn’t such a big mistake. And when Yunho’s hands found their way underneath the skirt of your dress to caress the soft skin of your plush thighs, your brain disconnected, letting your emotions control you instead. You got rid of your trench, the material falling to the ground and soon joined by his jacket. You didn’t resist when he grabbed you by your waist to hold you flush against him and kiss you again, finally letting your hands slip under the hem of his pullover and touching his skin. Once again, the way he was kissing you left you dizzy, unable to think about anything other than him. 

“- This dress… 

- Do you like it ? Or is it too much ?

- Fuck, no, it’s…”

He took another look at the way the white tissue was hugging all your curves just right, underlining your silhouette and making you look like an angel. And the fact that you dressed up just for him made his hunger for you grow even more. So when he felt the urge to kiss you again, and again, and again, he gave into it, like he had wanted to for so much longer than he thought. 

“- It’s perfect, you’re beautiful.”

You wanted to compliment him right back, but he didn’t give you enough time to do so, mingling his tongue with yours instead. And you didn’t complain, because you couldn’t get enough of the taste of his lips, of the way his big hands were guiding you to sit on the bed, of the way he was looking at you. You watched closely as he got on his knees to get you rid of these thigh boots that were driving him crazy. Then, he helped you out of your dress, revealing your white lingerie set. 

You thought you would’ve been shy, or embarrassed to let him see you like this. But all you felt right now was desire, and confidence. You smiled when you saw him lick his lips while staring down at your body, and while he wasn’t paying attention, you started to unbuckle his belt. Yunho let you do what you wanted, obeying when you asked him to take off his pullover. When you managed to get rid of his pants, you finally allowed yourself to properly drool over him.

You looked up at him from your sitting position on the bed, while he was still standing in between your legs. It was like crossing his gaze at this precise moment made you realise how real all of this was, and you were hit with the fact that you were really going to fuck with your teacher. But you couldn’t find it in you to fight the feeling anymore. It was too late anyway, you couldn’t go back even if you wanted to. 

So you did nothing to stop him when Yunho pushed your shoulders so you would lay on the bed. You did nothing to stop him when he started to kiss your neck and covered the skin in his marks. You did nothing to stop him when his hands began to roam all around your body because he couldn’t choose only one spot to touch and focus on, because he needed all of you. 

“- I thought you wanted to talk.”

But with the way your fingers were threading through his hair as he massaged your breast over your bra, you definitely weren’t up to talk either. 

“- We’re gonna talk, but after I’ve fucked you.”

He punctuated his sentence by pushing your boobs out of your bra and leaning down to suck on your right nipple. And you couldn’t contradict him when all you were able to do was moan and ask for more. Yunho slowly made his way down to your panties, kissing every part of your exposed skin until he could remember every mole and imperfection of your body. And by the time he took off your underwear, you were already dripping wet and you couldn’t breathe properly anymore. 

“- Please Yunho, please don’t tease…

- Why’s that angel ? You need me that bad ?

- Yes, yes I need you, I want you.”

Finally hearing it from you and not from the dreams he was making did it for Yunho as he searched for a condom in his jacket’s pocket, while you were throwing away the last pieces of clothing separating your skin from his. And you couldn’t help admiring him and his tall frame, his sculpted back, the veins in his hands and arms, his abs slightly peaking out. Everything about him, every inch of him was perfect, made by the Gods. 

And you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock either, following his every movement as he got rid of his boxers and put the condom on. It was big, but just as pretty as him, and you already knew he would fill you up just right. When he was close enough to the bed again, you grabbed his hands, pulling him to lay on top of you and kissing him like it was the last time you could taste his lips. 

“- Please Yunho, fuck me…”

And he couldn’t do anything else than do it, sliding right in with how wet you were even if you could still feel the way his cock was stretching you out. But you couldn’t help the moan escaping you when he bottomed out, nor could Yunho stop himself from groaning at how tight you were clenching around him. 

“- Feeling so good around me angel, like you were made for me.”

You were ready to answer, but the force with which he thrusted inside of you stopped you from doing so, uttering a strangled noise instead that was quickly replaced by endless whines and moans as Yunho started to fuck into you. It was as if he knew exactly how to make you feel good, as if he already knew your body like the back of his hand. He found his way to your waist again, pinning your hips down to the mattress so he could do what he wanted, fuck you like he had been wanting to for far too long. 

You could feel your mind drifting far away as all the tension you accumulated these past weeks left your body, washed away by pleasure and desire, washed away by the way Yunho was looking down at you with hooded eyes, lips parted and letting out the most sinful sounds you’ve ever heard. But you needed to feel him even closer to you, impossibly closer to you. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him down against you. He reached for your legs, guiding you to bend them more until he could hit this sweet spot that made your head fall back with a cry of his name. 

“- I’m not gonna last long angel, been waiting for this for too long. 

- Me too, I’m close, please… 

- You sound so hot when you’re begging.”

You made sure to remember this piece of information before abandoning yourself to the feeling of his cock hitting all the right spots, and of his skilled fingers teasing your clit, the combination making you clench around him impossibly tight as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Your release triggered Yunho as he buried his face in your neck, groaning about how good you felt while filling up the condom with his cum. And the crazy thought of him filling you up instead crossed your mind, and it made the feeling of slight overstimulation even more intense. 

You were so out of it that you almost didn’t feel the moment when Yunho got up to throw away the condom. You had purposefully decided to not think about all the consequences that what you just did implied, you just wanted to enjoy this a little longer. So when he came to lay down with you again, you got closer to him immediately, like magnets who couldn’t resist the attraction. His fingers brushing against your cheek encouraged you to turn your head to the side, diving in his hypnotising brown eyes. You stayed like that for a moment, simply looking at each other without saying anything. And as if it was the only thing your bodies knew how to do, you joined your lips again. 

This time, it was slower, more sensual. If before you were devouring each other, now you took your time to savour the taste of his lips and tongue, to appreciate the way his hands were gliding on your skin, tracing invisible patterns on your lower back. It felt so much more intimate than what all this should have been, but it was too late, so you might as well fuck it all up completely. 

This time, Yunho didn’t rush anything, letting you decide on the pace. He let you do what you wanted when you got on top of him, let you deepen the kiss, he let you caress and discover his body. Your kisses wandered from the corner of his mouth to his jawline, going down to his neck, his collarbone, his pecks, his abs, his v-line, careful not to leave any marks on him. You could hide the single hickey he gave you, but you didn’t want to take any risk. When you reached his inner thighs, his hands had made their way to your head, his fingers tangling between the messy strands of your hair. You looked up at him, the desire pouring from your eyes making his heart beat faster. 

“- Can I ?

- Do whatever you want, angel.”

You smiled before you resumed your soft kisses along the skin of his thighs. But this time, you let them go up to his hardening dick. It was even prettier up close - and you’ve never thought you would say that about a dick one day, but you’ve never thought you would fuck with your teacher either. You kissed his length from the tip to the base, before running your tongue along the path you had traced. The action got a gasp out of Yunho, and you could feel him staring down at you as you kitten licked his flushed tip a few times. You wanted to take things slow, to remember this for as long as possible, but you were craving his taste, craving to feel him even more so you just took him into your mouth. He was big to say the least, and you could feel him, heavy on your tongue, stretching your throat as you started to bob your head up and down, stroking with your hands what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Yunho watched you intently, mouth slightly open and letting out sighs and grunts because you just felt that good. The sinful vision you offered was enough to make these weeks of mentally torturing himself totally worth it. Maybe he shouldn’t love the way you were making him feel, maybe he shouldn’t love the way you were whining around his shaft, maybe he shouldn’t love the way saliva was spilling out from the corners of your mouth. But he couldn’t care less when he gripped your hair harder and you moaned around his cock, eyes watering and nails digging into the skin of his thighs. 

“- Shit angel, you’re taking it so well. You’re so good to me.”

You hummed around him once more, resisting the urge to gag around him, relaxing your throat until you could take all of him in your mouth. You felt Yunho sit up straight, so he could get a better look at the way his cock was sliding in and out of your lips with ease. The sight was truly mesmerising, and he wanted to engrave it in his memory. 

“- I want to fuck your throat so bad, angel. Will you let me ?”

The pleased sound you let out after he grazed your scalp a few times let him know how willing you were to do just that. Yunho pulled on your hair roughly, forcing you to take all of him, until your nose was rubbing against his stomach and your hands were desperately pawing at his thighs. His thrusts were slow but hard, just what you wanted, just what you needed. 

“- You’re such a good girl Y/N, fuck, you’re going to make me cum. I can do it inside of your pretty mouth, right ?”

You agreed with strangled noises as best as you could with the way he was ruining your throat, but it was enough for Yunho to understand and a few seconds later, he buried himself as deep as he could one last time, cumming down your throat with a loud moan of your name. You did your best to shallow everything, some drops of the sticky substance spilling out. Yunho didn’t waste time picking them up with his fingers, sliding them between your lips instead of his cock, commanding for you to lick them clean, which you gladly did. When he finally let you breathe again, your throat was sore, but you were so wet you could feel your juices sliding down the inside of your thighs. 

“- Open your mouth for me angel, yes just like that. Good girl.”

Yunho grabbed you by your throat bringing your face closer to his and kissing you messily. He didn’t care that he just came into your mouth, he didn’t care that he could still feel his own taste on your tongue as you made out with him, on the contrary, it made everything so much more intense, so much better, so much more special. 

“- Was it good ?

- It was a perfect angel, you’re perfect.”

His hands slid down from your neck to your ass, guiding you to sit on his lap. His touch made you shiver, your back arching unconsciously. 

“- Want me to return the favour angel ?

- Yes please, I want your fingers…”

Yunho pushed you so you would lay down on the bed again, his fingers immediately dipping to your core, brushing lightly against your clit. His fingertips glided with ease against your slit, collecting your juices and spreading them everywhere. And you were hypnotised by the sight, thinking about how well his long fingers would fit perfectly inside of you, how they could reach your sweet spot so easily. 

“- You’re so wet, Y/N, you’re dripping on my hand.

- Please, Yunho…”

The way you were begging for him, the way you were calling his name, the way you were grabbing his biceps, trying to entice him in finally pushing his fingers inside of you - everything was driving him crazy, you were driving him crazy, and he was convinced that he didn’t want all of that to ever stop. His gaze was fixed on your face scrunching up with pleasure when he finally put one finger inside of your clenching pussy. 

“- Feels good ?

- Yes, so good.

- You want another one ?

- Please…”

Yunho bit his lip when he watched you take his second finger with ease, relishing in your sweet voice moaning at the way he was able to reach so deep without making any efforts. You were being so good, and he didn’t have to do anything for you to do so. You were pleading for him so easily, like it was natural, and that was making him feel even more dizzy with want and desire for you. He started to pump his fingers slowly, the squelching sounds from your wet cunt echoing through the room along with your whimpers for more. His other hand creeped up to your thigh, making sure to keep them open. Pleasure was clouding your mind, but your eyes were unable to leave the sight of the veins bulging in his forearms as he fingered you restlessly, thinking about all the ways he could control you, about all the positions he could put you in if he wanted to. 

And when it all started to feel too good, you plopped down against the pillows, not able to hold your own weight anymore from how his fingers were making you feel. Whenever he was curling them against that one spot, your brain turned to mush, and you could only whine and cry for more. You closed your eyes, already feeling close to your relief, but not wanting him to stop. 

“- Yunho… 

- What do you want, angel ?

- I-I want you to fuck me again, please…”

He didn’t let you have any time to think as he bent down to kiss you again, as a reward for being so good to him, so good for him, so perfect for him.

“- Cum on my fingers first, and I’ll fuck you as many time as you want, okay ?”

You nodded energetically, too turned on to think about anything else that wasn’t him. He let down your thigh to circle your clit, efficiently bringing you to your climax in seconds. Your nails dug into his biceps as the rush was taking over you, clenching around his fingers and moaning so loudly he was certain that the people in the room next to you could hear you scream his name. But he loved it, he was loving all of this a little too much. 

But Yunho didn’t ask himself more questions as he got up to find another condom in his pockets. He didn’t dare interrogate why it felt so good when he entered your pussy for the second time. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know why hearing you moan his name again and again made his heart beat faster. All he wanted right now was you, all he needed right now was you and your perfect body. 

This time, he wanted to feel you, to really feel you. So he purposely slowed down his thrusts, and even when you wrapped your legs around his waist, all he did was to suck another hickey in between your breasts. It was frustrating, but it also felt insanely good, the type of pleasure that made you unable to think, that made you go to another world because it just felt that good. You knew you were babbling incoherently, mewling for him to go faster, but you were already too far gone to care about how desperate you must look. 

In the heat of the moment, Yunho didn’t think twice before grabbing your wrists and pinning them down to the mattress, but you only whined and clenched around him tighter as an answer. And that made him lose control, his thrusts becoming more sloppy, without any rhythm, because you just felt that good. 

“- Yunho ! I’m gonn- Ah ! Oh my god…

- Cum for me angel, fuck, let me hear you.”

His words pushed you over the edge, the overstimulation from your two previous orgasm making this one feel even more intense and fulfilling. Your moans were high-pitched, but you couldn’t keep your voice down, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else than Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. You could hear him groan as he pulled out, throwing the condom away to pump himself on top of you. He only needed a few seconds to cum on your chest, the white fluid soon covering them and even that felt good. 

You felt so out of your own body that you almost didn’t register when Yunho grabbed some tissues to clean your skin. But the ringtone of your phone was like a brutal reminder that this was only a little bubble that couldn’t last forever. You got up from the bed to answer your phone, Dajeong on the other line reminding you of a gathering with some of your friends that you had completely forgotten, too focused on Yunho and what you just did. As soon as you hung up, you started to put your clothes back on. The awkward silence from before was coming back, but you didn’t want to end it like that. You wished you could’ve stayed with him a little longer, but you had to be realistic : you weren’t his girlfriend and you’ll never be. But when he grabbed your arm and kissed you passionately while you were fully dressed up and he was only wearing his underwear, it felt exactly like that. 

“- Text me later, okay ? I still want us to talk.”

This was becoming too serious for you and you could feel your heart beating too fast for your liking when he cradled your face in his hands to force you to meet his eyes. 

“- So you want to see me again ?

- How could I not ?”

You simply smiled and kissed him again before you left. Your legs were still weak, and when you looked at your reflections in the mirror of the elevator, it was like what you did was written all over your face - in your smudged lipstick and your ruffled hair. But it felt too good, and you were already addicted. You knew it would not be easy to stop, but you preferred to pretend that it could last forever for now. 

You were afraid that everything would feel weird, that you wouldn’t even dare to look at him, or that maybe he would be the one putting an end to all of this. But he didn’t. And the way he was looking at you during his classes could only mean that he craved you just as much as you craved him. And stealing glances at each other was basically all you were able to do for the whole week, because you had a ton of assignments to work on, and because he had too much work. Both of you agreed through text that it was too risky to do anything on the campus, that nothing should happen again in his office. 

However, that didn’t stop your mind from coming back to when he ate you out on his desk, or to him fucking you, or to the way his cock was feeling so heavy on your tongue. And that didn’t stop Yunho from thinking back to your plush thighs clenching around his head, or to your taste, or the way you were screaming his name when he was hitting the right spot. Every night when you came back from your classes, you laid down on your bed, trying to make the aching in your core go away, but the only thing that could satisfy you was him, and you knew it. 

Your frustration reached its peak on Friday when Lola cancelled your night out because she had to work early the next morning. You knew it wasn’t her fault, that it was her colleague for calling in sick just so she could go see her boyfriend, but it still annoyed you, and it was the cherry on top. This whole week would have been stressing enough, but the fact that Yunho made eye contact with you whenever he could, and that he purposefully brushed his fingers against yours every time he handed you some documents added to your irritation. 

You didn’t think twice when you sent him a text, asking him to join you to the hotel because you needed him badly. You didn’t feel ashamed of how desperate and needy you were, because you were too horny to care about the fact that you shouldn’t miss him so much after only one week of not seeing each other. And maybe Yunho should have resisted more but he longed for you, he had wanted you all week and he couldn’t contain his desire anymore. 

This time, he didn’t even greet you when he entered the hotel room, going straight for your lips and taking control of the kiss, devouring your mouth as if you were his oxygen. Maybe you should've talked before doing this again, but lust was clouding his and your mind, none of you thinking about anything else than releasing the tension. 

Soon enough, the floor was covered in your clothes as Yunho manhandled you on your knees, ass up and face down in the pillows, two of his fingers already buried deep inside of you. If last time, he wanted to take his time, today he just needed to ruin you, to break you down, to see you cry for him. And that was exactly what you wanted him to do, what you needed him to do to you. Your brain had already been disconnected, the words coming out of your mouth against your will. 

“- Please Yunho fuck me, please wanna feel you raw, want you to fill me up, please…”

His fingers stilled inside of you for a few seconds, almost making you cry out at the loss of stimulation. What you were asking him to do was crazy, it was not safe, but the way his dick throbbed made all the thinking for him - he wanted that, he dreamt about that.

“- Are you sure about that angel ? 

- Yes, please ! I’m on the pill, I’ll take a plan B, but please I need you, please…”

It was still dangerous, it was still nonsense, but Yunho wasn’t thinking with his brain anymore, nothing logical was crossing his mind anymore. 

“- Fuck, you’re going to kill me Y/N.”

But he loved it, and he loved how tight you felt around him when he pushed his cock inside, loved how he could feel you even better like that, loved how pliant you were in his hold. He gripped your waist as he bottomed out, forcing you to stay still and all you could do was moan out his name like a prayer, because you could feel everything, because it felt even more intense like that, because his strength excited you. And Yunho didn’t hesitate when he started to pound into you, the feeling of your bare cunt around his dick making him delirious. You arched your back more, trying to fuck yourself against his cock because you always wanted more, you always craved more. 

“- You’re such a slut, angel. Fuck ! You’re letting me fuck you raw but you get shy when I look at you, uh ? You’re so fucking naughty.”

You adored it when he called you his good girl, but the way he was holding the back of your neck to keep your head buried in the pillow, and the way he was ruining you felt just as good. The adrenaline rushing in your veins had you getting closer to the edge so quickly, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were unable to say anything else than his name, choking on your words, mewling from the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. 

And Yunho wanted to talk dirty to you, to whisper all the things he knew you loved in your ears, but his mind was clouded with want, and he couldn’t think straight. All he wanted was to spill his load inside of you, do the things he imagined when he was alone, these things he forbade himself to think about. But now he could, and he never felt better than buried deep inside your tight cunt. 

“- Gonna cum inside of you, okay ? Gonna fill you up like the slut you are, angel.

- Please !”

The moan he let out when he stilled inside of you was so erotic you could’ve come only listening to his voice, but the feeling of his cum painting your insides white was what made it for you, your body growing limp in his hold. His grip on your neck and hips tightened, maybe enough to leave you with some marks but you didn’t care. Both of you had trouble coming down, but when you were finally able to, Yunho helped you lay down with him, your head resting on his chest as you were still trying to catch your breath. You felt his fingers brushing your hair away from your face and you looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat when your gaze crossed. 

“- I wasn’t too rough, right ?

- No, it was perfect, I loved it.”

You smiled at each other, and even if it felt too intimate, and even if it was what couples did and not whatever the two of you were, he leaned down to kiss your lips softly. 

“- I loved it too. I think I just want to keep spending a good time with you, I don't want things to get more complicated than they already are, if that’s okay with you. Let’s keep it as simple as possible, yeah ?

- Yeah, I’d like that.”

You were the one to kiss him this time, as if you wanted to seal your agreement, as if it was a silent promise. 

“- Where are we going ?

- It’s a surprise. You can choose the music if you want.”

You didn’t waste any time going through Yunho’s playlist, teasing him about some songs you didn’t think he would listen to and finally settling on a Lana del Ray song. It had been a week since you decided to just do what felt right and not think too much, and he had asked you if you were free to spend your Saturday with him. Of course, you said yes, but you didn’t think that he would pick you up in his car and drive you somewhere, thinking he just wanted to change from the hotel you were always meeting up and show you another place, but it felt like he was literally taking you on a date. 

You watched the landscape unfold through the car window, casually chatting with Yunho about how your week went, about what you ate yesterday, about which book you read lately. Sometimes, you thought that the age difference between the two of you would make things awkward, or that it would clash with your opinions. But it was the exact opposite. Your conversations felt natural, as if you had known each other for decades, as if eight years weren’t separating you. You were twenty-two, you were an adult and you could make your own choices, but sometimes, you were worried about the way he was perceiving you. 

“- Y/N ? We’re almost there.”

You looked down at your phone, seeing that it had in fact been over an hour since he had picked you up and you apparently fell asleep. You yawned as you checked your makeup and hairstyle in the mirror of the sun visor, glad to see that your little nap hadn’t messed up anything. When Yunho stopped the car, you were in a narrow street, where not many stores could be seen. You were about to get out when he asked you to wait, getting out himself and making his way over to the passenger door, opening it for you and offering you his hand to help you out. And smiled up at him as you got out of his car. 

“- You’re such a gentleman.

- For you ? Always.”

His cheeky smile made you giggle, but the fact that he didn’t let go of your hand as he walked you to one of the few shops on the street made your heart skip a beat. He did nastier things to you, said words that would have made anyone feel embarrassed, but for some reason, this small gesture dusted your cheeks in a pink tone that wasn’t due to your excessive use of blush. 

“- I really wanted to show you this place, I think you’re gonna love it.”

He held the door for you, a little bell ringing as you entered a cute, little bookshop. The smell of old pages invaded your nostrils as Yunho guided you through the shelves with a hand on the small of your back. You couldn’t help looking all around, stunned by how much books were in there, by how many you recognized the titles of. The atmosphere of the whole boutique was welcoming and warm, the sunlight reflecting through the coloured glass of the front window displaying moving shadows everywhere and adding to its charm. 

“- You like it ?”

You turned to him with a big smile on your face, almost ready to squeal with excitement. 

“- Of course I like it ! If I could spend my life there I would !

- No one’s stopping you angel.”

A big smile spread on his face as he kissed your forehead and let you wander around, eyes opening wide every time you saw a title you recognized. You were fitting perfectly in the setting with the black bow in your hair, your little brown skirt and your white turtleneck. Yunho was so lost in his contemplation that he almost didn’t hear the lady holding the shop coming out of the stocking room.

“- Yunho ! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you there !

- Yeah Mrs. McMillan, I’m sorry I’ve been quite busy.”

The old lady shook her head, her long, white hair flying around as she did so. 

“- I’ve already told you to call me Isabel, honey, I’m not that old ! And you brought a pretty girl along this time.”

Yunho turned back to you, watching you fondly as you piled up books in your arms, and soon enough the stack would be higher than you. 

“- Is that love I’m seeing in your eyes ?

- No, not at all, she’s only a friend.”

Putting that label on you made his heart ache, because he knew you were so much more than that, and Isabel seemed to know it as well because she looked at him with a gaze filled with disapproval as you came to the counter, still smiling. 

“- Y/N, this is Isabel McMillan, she has been selling books here since I’ve been alive. 

- Nice to meet you Mrs. McMillan ! I have to say that this shop might become my new favourite place, there’s so many things there, it’s incredible !”

Your excitement was contagious as a smile took over the old woman's features too, softening at having someone as passionate as you to compliment her. 

“- Don’t take on your friend’s bad habits, call me Isabel, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re enjoying my hard work. 

- I really do. If I could, I would buy half of these books but sadly I cannot.”

As Isabel noted down the title of the books you wanted to buy - because she didn’t want to use technology, saying it was too tiring to learn these things at her advanced age - Yunho couldn’t detach his eyes from you. 

“- Since you’re with Yunho, and because I’m starting to like you, young lady, I’m going to offer you a little reduction. It’s rare to see people being so dedicated to literature these days, it will not do any harm to my business to encourage you to come again.

- Thank you so much ! But I’m gonna tell you a secret : I would’ve come back, even without that.”

The old lady laughed out loud, along with you and Yunho joined the two of you, because your good mood was infectious. 

“- Do you still have the book I asked you to put away last time ?

- Of course, honey, I’m a woman of words.”

She crouched down behind the counter and came up with a book she handed him. 

“- I’ll pay for it, and all the ones Y/N is taking.

- What ? No, Yunho this is almost fifty euros, it’s too much.

- Can’t I spoil you ? It’s my pleasure angel, I wanna do this for you so let me, okay ?”

The nickname had you unable to hold eye contact with him much longer, and you folded, letting him pay for your books, with butterflies coming alive in your stomach as he held the door for you again on your way out. And Isabel watched all this happen, and she couldn’t help scolding Yunho in his head for being so blind about his own feelings, for being so blind to the way you were looking at him with heart eyes. But after all, it was none of her business. 

“- Put the books in my car, then we can go grab a coffee if you want. 

- I’d like that, yeah ! And thank you for the books, you didn’t have to. 

- Yes, but I wanted to. Stop worrying about that okay ?”

You nodded as you reached his car and you dropped the books on his back seat. But before you could close the door, he handed you the book he took for himself. 

“- This one is also for you. I saw it last time and thought that you might like it. Maybe you could read it while I’m reading one of yours, and when we’re done, we could hand it back with annotations and talk about it. What do you think ?”

When you looked up at him, he looked anxious, maybe because he thought that you wouldn’t like his idea. But you did, the simple fact that he thought about you when seeing this book made you feel dizzy. 

“- I think I love this idea. Wait a minute.”

You turned around, rummaging through all your new books in search of the one you saw and that you bought for the sole reason that it reminded you of him. 

“- I picked up this one thinking about you, actually, so you might read it as well.”

You handed him the book, and he took it gladly as you grabbed the one he picked up for you too. You finally closed the car door and you both headed downtown to find a coffee shop. The first time your hand brushed against his, you didn’t dare to take it. And the second time, he didn’t dare to do it. So the third time, you took a deep breath and intertwined your fingers with his, and he gave your hand a little squeeze, both of you wearing a bright smile on your faces. 

The coffee shop you found was surprisingly pretty empty considering it was a Saturday evening, but you were glad there were not that many people. When you approached the counter, you were ready to recite your favourite coffee order when Yunho took the lead and listed down your usual as if it was written in his mind. You couldn’t even listen to the rest of the things he said to the cashier, focused on why he knew that when you never told him. He must’ve noticed you blankly staring at him, because he turned to you with a little smirk. 

“- What ? You’re surprised I know this ?

- Yes, a little. How did you figure it out ?

- Well, you always come to my classes with the same thing, it was not difficult to notice.”

You rolled your eyes, mainly to hide how flustered the information made you feel. 

“- You’re so obsessed with me.”

As the cashier put your orders down on the counter and announced the price of your drinks, Yunho mouthed “Yes” to you as he paid again for the both of you without letting you enough time to even reach for your purse. And before you could even start to protest, he effectively shut you up by kissing your cheek and dragging you along with him to find an isolated table where you both sat down. As always, the conversation flooded naturally, and you were not thinking about anything displeasing - in this instant, you were truly happy. 

And Yunho was happy too. So when you proposed to play a card game, and that the winner could ask the loser a question about anything, he agreed, even if it was silly, it was okay because it was you. You asked him what his favourite colour was, why he wanted to become a teacher, what he would say to Oscar Wilde if he could talk to him. And he asked you which Austen novel was your favourite, why you wanted to study literature, what your biggest dream was. You were so immersed in your little game that the staff of the coffee shop had to ask you to leave because they were closing the place, and the sky was indeed darker as you got out to walk back to his car. 

He opened the door for you again, and as you watched him make his way to the driver seat, you couldn’t help asking yourself if that was really all he wanted from this afternoon. After all, even if you didn’t put a label on your relationship - if you could even call it that - you knew deep down that the main reason he was seeing you was sex. And if he didn’t plan on having sex with you now, does this mean that this meeting you didn’t dare call a date was only that ? But then, it took you down a rabbit hole of never ending questions that you didn’t want to dig into.

Sensing that your mood was a little down, Yunho didn’t dare to talk too much and disturb you, even if he didn’t understand why. You had a good time, you couldn’t stop smiling and you really seemed to enjoy hanging out with him. And the thought that you could be questioning yourself about your situationship made him a little nervous, though it shouldn’t because this was what it was - a situationship. And it didn’t matter if you made his heart beat faster everytime he saw you. And it didn’t matter if you made him feel alive for the first time in years. It didn’t matter because having more with you was simply impossible. When Yunho parked in front of your dorm, all the serotonin from this day had been washed away with the doubts filling him up.

“- Thank you for everything Yunho, I had a great time.”

But your smile seemed fake, it didn’t reach your eyes as it usually did. And Yunho felt his heart clench painfully. He didn’t want you to feel sad with him. Never. You were supposed to enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed yours. 

“- Are you really alright ? If I overstepped, tell me, please. I don’t want you to keep these things from me Y/N.”

You sighed as you turned your gaze away from him, but his hands on either side of your face forced you to look him in the eyes again. Why did he have to be so perfect all the time ? It would’ve made things so much easier if he didn’t care about you.

“- You did nothing wrong, I’m just thinking too much. 

- About what ?

- I just think we should be more careful if we start going out like that because someone could recognize us. And you could lose your job, or I could get kicked out. I’m probably just being paranoid but…”

That was not the problem, but you didn’t want to talk about the real reason you were feeling so melancholic. Because it would probably ruin everything, and you needed him too much for your own good, you needed him too much to risk losing him.

“- You’re not being crazy, okay ? I understand, and if you’re afraid we might meet someone we know, we can go somewhere else next time, anywhere you wanna go, i’ll take you. How does that sound ? 

- Good. It sounds good.

- Then we’ll be doing that.” 

You nodded, and even if you still felt a little bad, one look from him was enough to make you feel better, to make your worries all go away. So even if your heart was screaming for you not to, you let him kiss your forehead, and then your lips, so softly it made you weak in the knees. But it felt too good to ask him to stop. So you didn’t, and you just kissed him back until you were out of breath. 

“- I’m gonna go, I have to work on your assignment because fucking the teacher won’t get me a free pass, right ?

- That’s the spirit angel, I’m always expecting the best from you.

- Then I have to start now. Be careful on the road, Yu.”

He nodded and watched you get out of his car, not leaving until he saw you get inside the building of your dorm. And then only did he authorise himself to let out a sigh. Because you were too sweet to be true, because you gave him a little nickname that had him feeling much more things than he shouldn’t, because your scent was still lingering everywhere and it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy, to be honest. 

And it was bad, really bad. Yunho didn't mean for things to go this far, but he felt like he couldn’t stop now. And if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to stop now that he had a taste of you. However, it still felt incredibly wrong to go home to his girlfriend when he had spent the day with you and that he didn’t think about her only once. The smell of home cooked food hit him as soon as he stepped inside, and the weight on his shoulders even more heavy as he announced that he was home. 

“- You’re coming back late, baby ! But that’s okay, at least everything is ready for dinner, I made your favourite !”

Guiltiness was creeping up inside of him with every word she said, and everything sounded so fake when he served her his lie about having an important meeting with his colleagues. She didn’t deserve this, she didn’t do anything for him to stop loving her. On the contrary, Hana was always sweet and caring, she was there for him and had been for years. But maybe it was the problem. Maybe it has been too long.  But Yunho perfectly knew the real reason, it was just too painful to admit it, and it would make things too real. 

For a while, he preferred to ignore the fact that you were making the flames come alive again in his heart. He preferred to ignore how much stronger his feelings for you were than for his girlfriend he was supposed to love and cherish and marry soon. But was it really a crime when everything she was doing, everything they were doing seemed faked, forced, done out of habit rather than because of true love and affection ? Yunho knew that he was already in too deep with you to stop, and the way Hana was not paying attention to what he was saying was making him feel a little less remorseful about the way he was only seeing your face when she was kissing him good night. 

Work and classes have been hectic for the both of you these past weeks, so Yunho’s proposal of a getaway trip to the beach this weekend felt like a bubble of oxygen. Sure, you had seen each other, but for never more than a quickie. Sure, you didn’t stop sending each other texts and photos to keep up with your days, but you wanted to hear him calling you angel again. And even if it was supposed to be only that, even if you shouldn’t want that, you still missed spending time with him, talking with him. So you held on to the promise of this little break with him to finally breathe and relax.

When you finally spotted his car parked a few streets away from your dorm, and his tall frame leaning against the drivers’ door, the wind blowing his perfectly styled hair, your heart started to beat faster. The rush you got everytime you laid your eyes on him never flattered. And you didn’t really think about it when you ran to him and threw yourself in his arms. You could hear him chuckling as he buried his face into your neck, holding you closer to him and spinning you around. Both of you needed this hug, and Yunho couldn’t ever get tired of your addicting scent, breathing you in for a moment before he cradled your face into his hands to kiss you like he had wanted to these past few days.

“- I missed you, angel. 

- We literally saw each other yesterday.

- But not like that.”

This comment was enough to make heat rise into your body again. But you simply slapped his chest playfully as he giggled like an idiot. But he didn’t mind your teasing, it was entertaining. Like the gentlemen he always was, Yunho opened the door of the car for you. Every time he drove you somewhere, you felt like a passenger princess - getting to choose the music, opening the windows whenever you wanted, holding his hand when he didn’t need it. The weather was starting to warm up a little, and you smiled as you felt the pleasant air hit your face, making your hair fly in every direction. 

And yes, Yunho felt a little guilty for cancelling plans he had with his girlfriend to take you to the beach, but he needed it. He needed to escape from his life and his routine for just one day, but more importantly, he needed you. He didn’t want to spend his weekend with her family, he wanted to spend it with you. And as he watched you run towards the water, squealing as the cold liquid touched your bare feets, he felt like it was worth it. Your long skirt was floating around you to the rhythm of the wind, and to him, you’ve never looked more beautiful than right now - with your hair all messy, and the brightest smile he’s ever seen on your face directed at him, asking him to come with you. 

There were only a few other people on the beach, allowing you to be as affectionate as you wished. The picnic both of you had prepared was spent between sweet kisses and mindless conversation. And then, Yunho laid down to rest his head on your lap while you read another book he had given to you. You mindlessly started to run your hands through his hair, smiling lightly when he released a satisfied sigh, relaxing even more. And Yunho swore he could’ve fallen asleep just like that - with the sun warming up his body and your presence warming up his heart. 

“- It’s been so long since I’ve last gone to the beach…”

Your self-reflection steered Yunho out of his slumber, looking up at you to find you entirely focused on the landscape in front of your eyes. Suddenly, your tone was a lot more nostalgic, and he couldn’t help his curiosity. Because yes, he knew your body like the back of his hands by now, and he knew what you were liken but he knew so little about your past, about you - the you he was starting to fall in love with. 

“- But you grew up close to the ocean, right ?

- Yeah. We used to go every weekend, it was always the best day of the week and I was so excited to go every time. But when my parents started to fight, we stopped going. Apparently, it reminded them of too many memories and they had no time to do that anymore. I tried to go alone once. I was maybe eight ? I don’t remember well, but I know that I got scolded so badly I’ve never tried it again, even as a teenager. And I kinda had an apprehension to go see the ocean again. 

- I didn’t know that. I’m sorry for proposing that, we can leave whenever you want if you don’t feel comfortable, angel.”

Your eyes finally came back to him, smiling softly at him as you pushed a strand of his hair away from his forehead, your touch making goosebumps come alive on his skin. 

“- It’s okay, I’m over all that now. And when I think back about it, these trips were never perfect. My parents were already fighting back then, I was just too young to understand what it meant. But today I’m here with you, so I knew it would be nothing like that. You make everything better, Yu.”

You leaned forward, pecking his lips for a second or two, but it was enough to make Yunho smile again. He had no idea your childhood could’ve been so chaotic, and from what you told him, he could easily imagine the classic scheme through which you went. And it made sense with the women you were today - strong, independent and determined. But he also learned that you needed him to baby you sometimes, and he was always willing to let you fall into his open arms every time you needed to. And the fact that you were slowly opening up more and more to him everyday felt like a reward. 

“- What was your childhood like ?

- Well, I have a pretty conservative and religious family, and I’ve always felt like I’ve never belonged with them. My parents love me, I know they do, but it’s like I don’t fit in with them, you know ? It’s a strange feeling, but I’ve always been the rebel one : I didn’t do the studies my parents wanted me to do, and I didn’t follow every one of their rules as I grew up, and I’ve never had the same faith as them. I think that’s what disturbed them the most. 

- The feeling of being a disappointment, and of going against the flow is never easy to deal with, especially as a kid. But look where you are now. They should be proud of you for doing a job you love. At least, I’m proud of you.”

This time, Yunho made the first move to kiss you. 

“You’re really an angel, too good to be true.

- I could say the same about you.” 

Because he simply had that aura that made you feel safe, that made you feel comfortable, that made you feel at home. Every time you looked into his eyes, it was as if nothing else existed, as if he was the only thing that was real. But you didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to dwell on what it meant, didn’t want to think about the fact that this won’t last forever. Instead, you kept on talking, telling each other some childhood memories. And it all felt so peaceful, like you were all alone, like it was both of you against the rest of the world, like you were in a little bubble that could never burst. 

And Yunho really wished he could stay like that with you forever, but the sun was starting to go down and the wind was turning colder. You could’ve fallen asleep on the ride home, lulled by the way he was quietly humming to the songs of the playlist you choose. This day made you forget about everything else, made the stress go away, made all your worries disappear. But you knew it was not only because you got away, but mostly because Yunho was with you. He always had that effect on you, no matter how hard you tried to resist it. You didn’t want this day to end, you didn’t want this feeling to ever go away. So as he parked near your dorm, you kissed his lips one more time.

“- Do you want to come up ? My roommate is not here. 

- What about being careful, angel ? Anyone could recognize me here. 

- It’s Sunday, everyone is either locked up in their rooms working or spending the day out. No one will see you. Please ?”

The fact that you started to kiss down his neck as well as your pleading eyes were close to breaking Yunho’s resolve. He knew he shouldn’t let you have this much of an effect on him, but you had that effect and he couldn’t deny the way he weakly said “yes” and let you drag him to your dorm room. But the way you were giggling against his lips as you pushed him to sit down on your bed made him forget all about his doubts. As you dropped to your knees on the ground, settling between his legs, Yunho couldn’t help the shaky breath that escaped him. 

“- I think I have to pay you back for today, don’t I ?”

The smirk playing on your lips as you unbuckled his belt and helped him get out of his pants did nothing to calm his heartbeat down. And the way you were always so eager to take care of him, to have your mouth on him, did nothing to help either. But it felt too good, so he didn’t stop you and let you kiss his tip one time before you started to kitten-lick his cock. 

“- Fuck, don’t tease, angel. 

- But you look so pretty like that.”

Your pouty lips made him want to spoil you but also to be a little mean. But you were such a good girl for him, taking all of him in your mouth. Everytime you were getting down on your knees for him, Yunho couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline going through his veins.  He threw his head back when he felt your cheeks hollowing, sucking him in deeper. He wanted to stay like that forever, with you drooling around his cock, and his hands buried in your hair. But he needed to have his mouth on you too, to make you feel good. So he took advantage of your size difference to throw you on the bed with ease, pushing up your long skirt so he could dip his head under the material and lick a strip of your wet cunt through your panties. 

“- Yunho… Please, don’t tease.

- But you look so pretty like that.”

You smiled as you lightly slapped his shoulder, eliciting a few chuckles from him before he helped you get out of your underwear and finally got a taste of your cunt. You could only see the top of his head, but the way he was subtly nibbling on your clit had you closing your eyes to appreciate the moment even more. His tongue lapping at your cunt was sending you to places you’ve never been, and you couldn’t care less about the other people at the dorm who might hear you whining his name loudly. This day was so perfect, Yunho was so perfect. You couldn’t ask for more. Or you could, but you would be pushing your luck, and you didn’t want anything else if it meant you could be with him in some way. But you didn’t want to think about all that right now, so you pushed his head further in between your thighs. 

“- Don’t stop, please…”

Yunho groaned against your folds, doubling his efforts to bring you to the edge, practically making out with your pussy at this point. But you didn’t mind, not at all. You wanted him, wanted every little part of his body and soul to be yours. As you felt your orgasm approaching, you started to grind against his face, moaning at the way his nose was bumping against your clit every time you rocked your hips. And when you came with a cry of pleasure, Yunho made sure to hold your thighs open for him to eat you until he had gulped down the last drop of your juices. 

“- How do you taste better every time ? I’ll never get tired of it.

- Good. Because I don't want you to stop.” 

Both of you were still half clothed, but you didn’t mind it as Yunho came up to kiss your lips, his tongue finding yours easily and his hands grabbing your breast over your top like a second nature. Everything felt so familiar, so right, like you were where you should be. Your lips were sealed to his, from the moment he pulled out his condom to the moment his cock entered you, only separating for a brief instant when you moaned in harmony. 

And no words where needed as he made love to you. Because there was no other way to define how he was fucking you, to define the tenderness of his touch, the fondness of his gaze, the softness of his breath hitting your skin. Every sound he elicited from you was immediately drowned in his mouth, your hands tugging at the material of his shirt as you felt close to the edge again. You felt full of so many emotions you couldn’t even name them all, but you knew that Yunho was the only reason you were feeling all that. 

“- I’m close…

- Me too, angel…”

The words you’ve been meaning to say for some time almost slipped past your lips as you felt the rush of pleasure course through your body. And if Yunho hadn’t nuzzled his head into your neck, he would’ve probably been about to say them too. As you came down of your little paradise where nothing existed except for him, you realised how close you’ve been to fuck it all up. And you didn’t want that - you were going to take everything you could have from this relationship, and no matter the state you would end up in, it would be worth it because it was him. 

“- Hey ! Watch where you’re going Y/N !”

Dajeong kept you from walking straight into the door that opened just in front of your face. You sheepishly thanked her, and tried to not get lost in your thoughts again.

“- You seem absent since yesterday. Did something happen this weekend ?”

You knew exactly why you were so absorbed, you knew it. But you couldn’t say it, you couldn’t talk about it with her. It would mean putting Yunho in a dangerous situation, and yourself too. And what would she think of you ? You were always the first one to comment on how stupid all the girls crushing on your teacher were, and now you were the one who ended up in his bed every time he needed you.

“- It’s nothing, I just… Don’t know what to do about something and I’m thinking about it a little too much.”

Your eyes travelled from your friend by your side to Yunho’s silhouette. He was standing near the door of his office, having a lively conversation with a woman you’ve never seen before but you supposed that she was one of his colleagues. You had no right to be jealous. And you weren’t. Not really, at least. You were not jealous about seeing him with someone else, you were mentally prepared for that to happen. But you were jealous of how good she looked beside him, thinking about how ridiculous you must be whenever you were going out with him. Your age difference was visible, and everything felt much more right when he was with someone his age. But you quickly averted your gaze from them, not seeing the pained look on Yunho’s face as he turned his head your way. 

“- You wanna talk about it tonight ? 

- I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

Dajeong smiled at you and grabbed you by your arm, trying to cheer you up a little. She didn’t like to see you down - you were always so energetic and joyful, it felt odd whenever you were like that. 

“- No matter what you decide, I’m here. And I’m keeping you home for a movie night anyway.

- I'd like that a lot. Thank you.

- I told you, I’m here for you.”

You thanked her again and tried not to think about Yunho for the rest of the day. You weren’t even mad at him, except the fact that you had no right feeling like that, it was mostly because you realised that you really couldn’t be with him for more than what you already were. And it hurt more than you think it would have, because even if you tried to stop yourself from daydreaming about a future with him, you still did, and you had started to believe that it could happen, that it could be true. But you had to be sensible and remind yourself that it was impossible, that even if there was the slightest chance that he loved you, he could never do it in the open, and you were not ready to stay a secret your whole life. But you still went to his office after your classes because he had asked you to. When you entered the room, Yunho was waiting for you, anxiously chewing on his nails. He gestured for you to close the door behind you and when you made sure it was locked, you took his hands in yours, confusion lingering in your eyes. 

“- What is it Yu ? Are you alright ?

- I should be the one asking you that.

- Why ?

- Because of what you saw this morning. It’s not what you think, I swear there’s nothing between us, she’s just another teacher I’m working with. I’m not doing any-

- Stop.”

And he did it, mouth closing shut as you tried to not let all the doubts and the melancholy that invaded you today be perceived in your voice or your touch. You stood on your tippy toes to kiss his lips softly, hoping that it would calm him down a little. 

“- I didn’t think anything about it, okay ? I’m not mad, or sad, or anything else. And you can do absolutely what you want, you know, it’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything. I don’t have a word to say about your relationships.”

The words hurt you, but they hurt him too. He knew you weren’t his girlfriend, he made that clear enough so you understood that nothing like that could ever happen. But it still felt wrong to hear you say that, he still felt bad at seeing the slight discomfort in your eyes. However, you didn’t let him reflect on that too much as you let go of his hands. 

“- Don’t worry about that, okay ? I have to go, I have plans with Dajeong for tonight but text me if you need anything.

- Yeah, have a good night angel.”

You smiled at him before leaving and Yunho’s heart clenched when he saw you go out one more time. Every night you spent together, you had always left before him, and every time, he wished you could stay a little more. And every time, he prayed that it would not be the last time he was going to see you. Even if everything about this was wrong, he didn’t want it to end, and for once, he wanted to be selfish. He wanted to think about himself, to put his happiness first and not everyone else’s opinions. 

That’s why when you told him you had a really bad day, a few weeks after this incident, he decided to think about what made him happier lately and put you first. So he picked you up after class, without telling you where you were going, but it had become a habit of his to never reveal the destination of your little adventures. The ride was silent, the music being the only sound disturbing the quiet atmosphere, but as soon as Yunho parked on the hill that overlooked the whole city so you could see the sunset, you bursted into tears. Yunho pulled you into his lap, running his hands through your hair to calm you down, and encouraging you to talk to him. 

“- Tell me what’s going on, angel. 

- I’m just… Everything I do, it’s never enough. There’s always someone who’s doing it better, there’s always someone to remind me that I’m enough. I’m never enough, for anything or anyone.”

Seeing you like that broke his heart, but Yunho didn’t let his own emotions overpower him. He cradled your face in his hands, whipping your tears away tenderly. 

“- You are enough Y/N, you’ve always been enough and the way you’re feeling right now does not reflect what you really are. You’re doing so much all the time, and for everyone. I promise you are enough, angel. And I’m proud of the person you are, I’m proud of you.”

You nuzzled your head in his chest, a little more serene than five minutes before, his scent soothing your heart and your mind, and his touch so soft and delicate you could’ve fallen asleep in his arms. You stayed like that for a moment, not needing to say anything else as his presence was enough to get you to relax, and you couldn’t say if you spent ten minutes or an hour like that, but you felt so peaceful you didn’t want to move. Whenever you were with him, it was like a little bubble engulfed the two of you, and that nothing else existed beside him and everything he was making you feel. 

“-  Thank you, Yu.”

And you pecked his lips to reinforce that idea. And Yunho pushed away a strand of your hair before he kissed you too, deepening it when you whimpered against his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him closer to you. And you stayed there, simply making out and quietly talking about nothing and everything. But it was enough to calm you down. And it was enough for Yunho to be sure about what he wanted to do. But not now. Not when you were so vulnerable he felt like you could break in his arms. 

“- Can you take me home ? I’m tired.

- Of course, angel. I just need to stop by the gas station.”

You nodded and kissed him one last time before getting back in your seat. Your mood was much better on the way back, casually chatting with Yunho as he drove you home with his hand comfortably resting on your thigh. You mindlessly played with his fingers, not really paying attention to the road. You only registered the notifications noises from his phone when he was out and paying for his gas. You glanced at his illuminated screen, not really wanting to know who was texting him but just out of habit, and the nickname of the person texting him was all you needed to know. “My girl 💕” was enough to understand that you weren’t the only one, that he wasn’t as invested in this relationship as you. You were aware of all these things, but to be hit by the realisation, to be faced with the truth was harsh. When he sat back down in his seat, you had to brace yourself so the tears wouldn’t spill from your eyes, so the words you were about to scream at his face wouldn’t slip out from your mouth. 

“- Are you alright, angel ?

-  Hum, yeah, I just wanna go home and sleep. Don't worry.”

You offered him a little smile and he caressed your cheek, but you had to mentally restrain yourself from pushing his hand away. You let him drive you home, forcing yourself to smile and seem normal and composed. Only when you were snuggled underneath your blankets did you allow yourself to let the tears fall freely from your eyes. You were expecting this to stop at some point, but not like that. You were trusting him, you thought he was telling you the truth, you thought that what would separate you would only be the fact that it was impossible, but not that. 

It was so unlike him, always so kind and gentle, always thinking about you and your comfort first. That was surely why you never thought he would do something like that. But after all, you should've seen it coming. This was truly too good to be true, too perfect to last. But you would've wanted it to last for a little longer, for forever. And coming back to reality was hard, it was like waking up from a dream to realise you were only living in a nightmare all this time. That night, you fell asleep with his scent still lingering on your clothes, and dried tears covering your cheeks. 

The next morning, you weren’t doing any better, if not worse. The truth was sinking in, and you were not strong enough to answer his texts yet, leaving him on read and purposely ignoring his demand to see you today. You got up from your bed either way, only because you needed to eat to compensate for your empty heart, and that what Dajeong must have cooked smelled really good. 

“- Wow ! You look like a zombie. A cute zombie, but still a zombie.”

You smiled a little, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You sat down on the stool of the kitchen, watching your roommate finishing up your meal, mind clouded with thoughts of him even if he was the last thing you wanted to think about. 

“- On a serious note, are you alright ?”

The casual question made you tear up again, and you had to take a deep breath so you would not cry again. Dajeong turned off the stove and came to sit down beside you, one hand resting on your shoulder as she encouraged you to talk to her. And you did. You told her everything about what had been going on between Yunho and you for months. It felt like it all started yesterday, like it was only a dream. But with the way it was about to end, you rather have not started this at all. 

“- I would’ve never thought that you would be the type to go out with our teacher. 

- I know. There’s just something about him that I can’t get enough of. I… I think I love him.”

It was the first time you dared to say the words. But it was true. You loved him even if you tried to resist it, even if you tried not to succumb to the temptation he was. But you gave in, and you were happy for as long as it lasted. You knew it would hurt, but you didn’t think it would hurt that much. You underestimated how important he became, how much you relied on him for everything. 

“- And it’s not even the fact that he has a girlfriend or someone else that makes me mad, I was okay with that because I had come to terms with the fact that I will never be more than what we were. But he treated me like I was more, he made me think that he cared about me just to pull out something like that. And I had to find out, he didn’t even have the balls to tell me himself. 

-  He’s a coward, I must admit. And he clearly doesn’t deserve you. He could have never loved you like you need to be loved, you’ll always be a secret with him. It’s better like that. 

- Maybe. But it hurts.”

Some tears escaped your eyes again, and Dajeong didn’t hesitate before pulling you into a tight hug, caressing your head as a way to calm you down. She knew how much a heartbreak could hurt, especially when it ended up like that, especially when it was as intense as what you had. 

“- I know, lovely. It’s gonna take time, but it’s gonna stop hurting eventually. But I think you should talk with him, ask him clearly what’s going on before completely cutting him out of your life. You need closure, you at least deserve that.”

You nodded as Dajeong proposed that you spent the day together, doing some skincare and talking again and again about the same people for the hundredth time while watching some silly movies to cheer you up. And you did exactly that, trying to not think about him for at least one day. You were anxious to go back to class on Monday, fearing that everything would be awkward, or that he would completely ignore you. Somehow, you found the courage to send him a text throughout the weekend, simply to tell him that you needed some space, some time to think about you and him. You didn’t see the point of lying to him, and you silenced his notifications just after. You were strong enough to answer him, but not to witness him pretend and care about you.

Your resolve started to crumble when you saw how miserable he looked the next few days in class. His eye bags were terrible, and he seemed to have lost all his energy. Usually, Yunho would animate all his classes and passionately teach you his subject, but lately, he was only giving you some group work to do, keeping his interventions to a minimum. He spent his time sitting at his desk, either trying to grade some papers or zoning out, looking through the windows. Everytime his sad eyes fell into yours, your heart clenched and ached. But you didn’t have the strength to confront him about what you saw on his phone. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted him to deny, to tell you it was not what you were thinking and that you were the only one - even if you knew it was impossible and that dreaming about it made everything hurt ten times more badly. 

You missed him. You missed hearing his voice, his laugh. You missed his smile, and the dimple he had when you made a terrible joke he couldn’t help giggling at. You missed his touch, the way every time his skin was against yours everything else disappeared. You missed being in his arms, and the sentiment of security it gave you. You simply missed him, and having to see him everyday without being able to look at him for more than a few seconds was a torture. And even if you had unblocked him because you were weak, you continued to ignore every one of his texts and calls either way. It was painful, but a lot less than if he told you face to face that he had someone else, that he lied to you, that he made you fall head over heels for you before fucking it all up, before crushing your heart in between his fingers. 

One day, when you came back to your dorm, you found flowers waiting for you by the door. There was no card with it, but Yunho was the only one who knew that lilies were your favourite flowers. And you cried again when you opened the trash can only to find yourself unable to throw the bouquet away. So you kept it, putting it in a vase and placing it on the kitchen’s counter, seeing him every time you looked at the flowers. 

Another day, when you handed him back an assignment and that your hand brushed against his, it was like time stopped for a moment. Your breath was knocked out of your lungs as you looked up at him, and the plethora of emotions you caught dancing in Yunho’s eyes was enough to bring you back to when he was calling you angel, to when he was treating you like the most beautiful girl in the world. You ran away as quickly as possible, because you were on the verge of telling him that you loved him, and that it would only make things even more complicated than they already were. You felt so stupid for falling for your teacher, but you felt even more ridiculous for believing that you could be more than a side piece to him. 

However, that didn’t stop you from looking at the texts he sent to you, asking you to come meet him in his office because he wanted to explain everything properly. You heard Dajeong words ringing in your head as you took a deep breath and entered the room you had grown familiar with. His scent surrounded you immediately, and Yunho jumped upon your arrival. His glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose, and his hair were completely dishevelled. You still managed to be smitten by his ethereal beauty. But the way he was looking at you with such desperation forced you to avoid his gaze quickly. 

“- Y/N…”

His voice broke down, and your heart broke too, a little more every time he tried to start a sentence. Yunho wanted to forget everything, to hold you in his arms and promise you the world. But he couldn’t, and the way you were hugging yourself made him want to get down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. In all honesty, he would do it in the blink of an eye if you asked him, he would do anything if it meant you would forgive him. But it was nearly impossible, and he was well aware of that, but you deserved an explanation - that and so much more. 

“- What did you want to tell me ?”

Your tone was harsher than you wanted it to be, and you didn’t dare look his way, and Yunho didn’t dare make a step in your direction, afraid that you would run away again. But he had to tell you the truth, he had to be honest for once. 

“- It’s not what you think, angel.

- Please, spare me with that, I’m not blind, nor an idiot.

- No, you’re not… And that’s why you deserve to know what is going on. The message you saw the other night was from… My girlfriend.”

You knew it, but to hear him say it was different. It hit exactly the right spot to reopen some wounds that had never healed. You already felt on the verge of tears, but you tried to keep them under control, gripping the handles of your tote bag to ground yourself in reality and brace yourself for what was coming. 

“- But I don’t love her anymore, it's been a long time since I’ve stopped feeling anything for her. We met when we were in highschool, and we were a good match at that time. She was my friend before becoming more, but after all this time, there's nothing left of what I felt for her in the beginning. We were only kids, I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life and my family had already planned my future with her. They want me to marry her. But I don’t, not at all. But if I leave her, I know that they will never want to see me again. So I stayed with her but you made me realise what it was to live and be happy again, and that I don’t want to marry someone I don't genuinely love.”

While he was talking, Yunho took some steps in your direction, trying to maintain eye contact with you even if all he wanted was to slap himself in the face for how stupid he had been to think he could handle this the way he did it, to think that you would never discover his secret. At least, you were here. At least, you were listening to him. It should mean something. It should mean that everything wasn’t over yet, right ? Yunho held on to that, but when he tried to reach for your hand and you took a step back, your eyes glistening with tears, it was hard to believe that everything could be alright. And to know that he was the reason you were crying made him feel even more guilty.

“- I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, angel. I wanted to do it a million times, but I was so afraid of losing what we had, I didn’t want to freak you out. And I couldn’t lose you. You are my oxygen, my breath of fresh air in the middle of all this mess, and I need you. I promise I wanted to tell you everything the night you discovered it. But you became so quiet all of sudden, and when I looked at my phone, I assumed you had seen her text. But I swear on my life, I wanted to tell you. I should’ve never lied to you in the first place, I know that, and you can’t imagine how sorry I am.”

You were now sobbing uncontrollably, trying to cover up your voice with your hand, but the hot tears falling down your cheeks were enough proof of how affected you were. Yunho wanted to cradle you in his arms, to protect you from the world like he always did, but he couldn’t shield you from himself and his mistakes. He was supposed to be your safe place, your comfort zone, not to make you feel like that.

“- Do you understand how bad I felt when I saw this message, Yunho ? I… I knew this wouldn’t last, but to realise that you lied to me all this time was even more painful. You made me believe that we had a future together, and you treated me like your girlfriend even when I was not, even when you had someone waiting for you at home. And it hurts.”

Your voice broke down on the last words. You felt pathetic, some kind of silly, naive girl who couldn’t see what was right in front of her eyes, some kind of idiot who thought that it could end well, that it could end without you suffering too much. 

“- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. And I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising if that’s what you want. We can have a future together, I want a future with you.

- I can’t see it. I-I can’t ask you to leave her, and to turn your back on your whole family for me. ”

One tear rolled down Yunho’s cheek, and you wanted to wipe it away, but he did it himself before you could do anything. It was better like that. If you felt his skin against yours again, you didn’t know if you would be able to finish what you started. 

“- I could do it. If it’s what it takes to keep you with me I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. I love you, Y/N. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. I love you so bad it makes my heart ache. I’m ready to do everything it takes to be with you. Everything.”

You should’ve been happy to hear these words you were longing for him to say, only weeks prior. But right now, it only broke your heart more, it only pushed the knife a little deeper into your open wounds. 

“- That’s not what I want for you, you deserve better. I don’t want to fuck up your whole life, even if it meant I could love you.

- But you are my whole life, you’re the only thing I need.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to say yes so bad. You wanted to fall back into his touch, to fall back into his arms. But you couldn’t. Still, you let him caress your cheek, swiping his thumb against it to get rid of the tears that had dropped there. It was like you could finally breathe, as if the weight on your heart and the knot in your throat had disappeared only because he touched you. He always had that effect on you. But you had to leave, you had to leave or you would cave in and you knew it wasn’t good for you. So you took his hand in yours, pushing it away slowly, as if not to scare him away. You looked up into his teary, brown eyes. It broke your heart to see him in such a state, but you had to think about yourself too. You had to take care of yourself now that he wasn’t here to do that anymore. 

“- I’m sorry, I need some time to think. I’m… Not sure I can love you like this anymore. I’m sorry.”

He tried to smile at you, but it was joyless, without this little sparkle in his eyes that you loved so much. 

“- You don’t have to apologise, angel. You did nothing wrong, I’m the one who fucked up. I’m the only one to blame here. Take all the time you need, I’ll wait for you.”

You nodded, and you finally let go of his hand, painfully slow to feel his touch for as long as possible. You took a last look at him before turning away and unlocking the door of his office. 

“- Goodbye, Yunho.”

It felt like you were saying farewell, and Yunho wanted to run after you, to beg you to let him still be a part of your life. But he had to respect your choice. So he stayed still, standing there as if it could freeze time in place and give him the ability to come back in time and do things differently. But it was too late, and the only thing he could do was give you space and hope you would grant him a second chance, and hope you would be kind enough to forgive him even if he didn’t deserve it at all. 

You thought that clearing up the situation with Yunho would make it easier for you to move on and forget him as you had initially planned, but you clearly were in the wrong. Feeling his eyes on you was even more painful now. But at least, he seemed to have found his energy back. It was the only thing that made you feel a little better. Because you felt like shit, even if you tried to convince yourself that what you did was for the best, that you couldn’t be together, that you had to be sensible, you didn’t want to do all that. You craved his touch, his kisses, his loving gaze. You craved him and his soothing aura. You craved his love. You wanted him back, but everything was so complicated, everything was so messed up, you weren’t even sure it could work. 

Even if Yunho respected your wish for space and time, he still hadn’t stopped texting you throughout your days - reminders for you to drink, eat and rest properly. You never answered but you saw the messages and it was all that mattered to him. And even if he tried to come back to his daily life, to his routine, he couldn’t. You had taken such an important place in his heart that everything felt empty without you and your smile to brighten his world. Nothing felt as appealing as before. Reading couldn’t take his mind out of things anymore, because he could only see your annotations on the ones you had given to him. And everytime he passed by Mrs McMillan bookstore, his thoughts immediately came back to you and how pretty you looked that day. 

So when some colleagues from the university invited him to have some drinks after work, he said yes. Yunho hoped that some alcohol and talking about anything and everything could take his mind off of you. But all it did was make it worse. With each drink, he felt the urge to call you even stronger. All he wanted was to at least hear your voice, hear his name fall from your lips, see your face, even if the pain he caused was written all over it. 

“- Angel…

- Yunho ? Why are you calling me ? Is there something wrong.”

He sighed in relief at finally hearing your voice ringing in his ears again, at finally hearing you say his name. He preferred the surname you had granted him, but he would take everything that you were willing to give him. 

“- I just… I miss you, and I need you, and I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you again. Because I feel like I didn’t apologise enough.

- It’s okay, I swear. I told you I need some time. Everything is…. Puzzling.

- Still, I’m sorry. 

- I know you are.”

There was silence, but the fact that you hadn’t hung up yet made a little bit of hope blossom in his heart. Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe there was still a world in which you could grant him your forgiveness. 

“- I can’t imagine my life without you. I tried. But I can’t. I need you, angel.

- You know that we can’t, that I can’t. You have a girlfriend, and your family, a career. I can’t just come in and mess up everything.

- I don’t care about all of that. If I’m with you it’s worth it. Please, angel, let me at least see you, even if it’s the last time I get to have you. I want you, one last time. After that, I’ll let you go if that’s what you really want, and I promise you will never have to worry about me again.”

You stayed silent for a while again, your defeated sigh being the only noise echoing through the line.

“- Okay. But this is the last time.”

However, when you joined him in the hotel room you had grown familiar with, you didn’t want it to be the last time. You wanted to stay in his arms forever. You didn’t talk, afraid of the things you could say, afraid you would beg him to stay, to come back, to do exactly what he swore he would do if only you asked him. But you tried not to think about that as you let him kiss you tenderly, as if you were going to break under his touch. And you might, because you needed him so bad it made everything hurt when he was not there.

No words were exchanged as you got rid of your clothes. No words were exchanged when you pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his thighs. No words were needed when you kissed him for the first time in weeks. It felt like you could both finally breathe, like you felt alive again, and it made all the pain go away for just a moment. 

“- I missed you, angel, missed you so fucking much…

- Me too, Yu.”

This was all you were able to say before he shut you up with another desperate kiss, making out with you as if it was the last time he got to have your lips on his - and maybe it would be. So you just decided to shut off your brain, simply running your hands through his hair and thinking about nothing else. You wanted to take your time and appreciate his touch, his eyes and the way he was moaning under your hands, but it felt like you were in a hurry, quickly discarding both of your underwear and sinking down on his cock. You gripped his shoulders, closing your eyes as you let yourself bask into the feeling of finally being full. But your desire took over you, grinding on his dick desperately.

And Yunho couldn’t look at your face, couldn’t see your beautiful eyes without thinking back to them filling up with tears the day he messed up everything between the two of you. But his body was overwhelmed by the feeling of you wrapped around him after weeks of only being able to look at you from afar, relying on his souvenirs to remember what it felt like to kiss you. He desperately wanted to engrave your face in his memories and keep it there forever, but it was too hard. So instead, he just flipped you over the bed, burying his head in your neck to not be tempted to cross your gaze anymore. But his hands still found their way to yours, fingers intertwining as he sped up the pace of his thrusts, both of you moaning in harmony. 

It wasn’t as intimate or as emotional as Yunho wanted your last time together to be like. But the alcohol was clouding his mind even more than everything he felt for you, and the urge to make you his - even if you weren’t, and that you would never be - was taking over him more and more with every clench of your cunt around him. 

“- Fuck, angel… Tell me you love me please…”

You didn’t want to, because you knew how that would make both of you feel, but the words spilled out from your lips before you could stop it, squeezing his hands tighter. 

“- I love you, I love you so much…”

It was enough for Yunho to feel a rush of emotions and desire flood through his veins, his thrusts becoming sloppy and losing any kind of rhythm. It all felt too much, from the way he was hitting your sweet spot to the way his little whines mixed with “i love you”’s that made your heart throb and your mind wanting to hear more of them. It all felt too much to the point you felt on the verge of tears as he laid on top of you, trying to regain some consciousness. But you were fully aware of everything that had just happened, and even if you wanted nothing more than to spend another night in his arms, you knew it wouldn’t do you any good. So you stayed like that until he fell asleep, murmuring again and again against your skin how much you meant to him, that he needed you. And then you ran away, putting your clothes back on in a hurry and checking out your appearance in the mirror of the elevator you had grown familiar with. Except that this time, there was nothing left from the joyful sparkle that usually brightened your eyes whenever you left the hotel. All you could see was how miserable he made you once again, all you could see were the tears cascading down your cheeks and along the marks he left on your neck. You slapped your hand on your mouth, pathetically trying to cover up your sobs. It hurt even more than that day, for some reasons. It all hurt too much to hold it in. 

When Yunho woke up in the morning to an empty bed, he was not surprised, but he was still disappointed. He wished he could have woken up one last time to your pretty and relaxed face, he wished he could have held you through the night one last time. Even if it happened only a few times, when you were too tired to go back to your dorms, it still felt incredibly right to open his eyes and see you all cuddled up against him. Getting up and leaving the room he had so many memories in revealed to be a lot more difficult than he thought it would have been. He took his time getting dressed and making sure he didn’t forget anything before slowly closing the door behind him. Taking a quick look at his reflection in the elevator’s mirror like you did only a few hours ago was enough to notice how wretched he was. His hair were a mess, his eye bags were even worse than a few days before despite him having overslept, and his clothes were wrinkled. But the way it was written all over his face was even more telling. 

The ride back to his apartment was like a walk of shame - because he had promised to his girlfriend that he would be back before 2am, because he made you suffer again, because he felt like shit, like there was no escape from this situation he put himself in. Yunho only had time to hope that Hana was still asleep but as soon as he opened the door, she jumped from her spot on the couch where she had apparently spent a lot of time worrying, seeing how panicked she seemed. 

“- Where were you !? You told me you would be back last night and it’s fucking 10am, Yunho !”

Her anger was totally justified, but the only thing he wanted to do right now was to just be swallowed by the floor, or to curl up in his bed and not get up for the next three years. 

“- I’m sorry, baby, I…

- You what !? It’s the fourth time you’re pulling something like that on me this month, what is going on !?”

Yunho was ready to serve her another well prepared lie, the ones he kept on telling her since he started ditching her to be with you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say that they all got back to one of his coworkers apartment to keep drinking after the bar closed, and that his phone died so he couldn’t warn her about it, and that he was too drunk and out of his mind to think about borrowing one of his colleagues’. He couldn’t lie to her right now, he couldn’t anymore. And as if it was now a habit every time you sneaked into his mind, he felt tears prickling his eyes, dropping his head low like the coward he was because he couldn’t bear to see her hurt, to see her crying because of him too. And as it had become quite usual for him through the course of these last weeks, apologies slipped past his lips. 

“- I’m sorry Hana, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry… 

- Yunho… Tell me what happened, talk to me. You’ve been so distant and quiet lately, it’s not like you to be so… So absent.”

He wanted to answer, to finally tell her the truth, to tell her everything, but he couldn’t get any word to leave his mouth, only quiet sobs resonating in the hallway as he tried to stop the tears from running down his cheeks. Slowly, Hana got closer to him, taking his hands in hers and guiding him to the couch where he sat down without any resistance and let her pull him into a hug. She could hear his voice shaking and breaking down everytime he let out another apology. It took a long moment for Yunho to finally be able to calm down and find his words back. And when he did, it didn’t make things easier, it didn’t make telling her easier. 

“- I… I met someone.”

The sad but knowing smile spreading on her lips told him everything he needed to know. Because, of course, she was not dumb. Of course, she had understood a long time ago what was going on. Of course, Yunho was the only asshole, the only one to blame for everything he put her, and you, through. 

“- I expected you to say that. 

- I’m so fucking sorry, Hana. I never meant for that to happen, I hadn’t even thought about doing that before I met her. And once it started I couldn’t stop, and when I wanted to tell you everything, it was already too late to not hurt you, and I just got carried away. I’m sorry, I really didn-

- Stop ! Just… Stop.”

So Yunho did, anxiously watching her as she ran a hand through her hair, probably trying to come up with an easy way to tell him that he was a bastard. Which he was, to be honest. 

“- I’m not an idiot. I know that you stopped loving me years ago, Yunho. And I’m not blind either, I saw how you got that sparkle in your eyes back one day, and I knew very well it was not because of me. And before you say anything about being sorry, I know it. I know you are, and I know that you wouldn’t have wanted to hurt me even if I’m just a friend in your eyes. 

- Hana…

- Don’t look at me like that, it’s not a big deal. We’ve been a couple since highschool, it was impossible for us to keep on loving each other until the end of times. I stopped feeling any romantic feelings a while ago, too. Our families are simply what they are, and we can’t change them. But I’m kind of glad you gave us a valid excuse to break up.”

Yunho couldn’t help the giggles that escaped him. She always had that dark humour that he loved so much, and that nobody got except for him and her. 

“- You did not just forgive me for cheating on you because you wanna break up, right ?

- Oh, I certainly did !”

Both of them laughed it off, and it was like a weight was lifted off of his chest, like he could finally breathe a little better. Not as well as when he was with you, but it was a little less bad, now. 

“- You’re sure you wanna do this ? You know how much trouble we’re gonna get into if we break up, right ?

- I know, and trust me when I tell you that I’ve thought about it a lot before. And I’m ready, I don’t want them to dictate my life anymore. I think you can understand that better than everyone else.

- Yeah.”

Silence fell back onto the room, and Yunho never felt more at home in his own apartment than after having agreed to break up with his years-long relationship. But he knew it was better like that, knew that they both needed to finally close this chapter of their life and take a new beginning. 

“- We’re still friends, though, right ? I still need to hear you spill all the tea about your weird coworkers.”

Hana laughed loudly, and the smile spreading on her lips had never been this wide since so much time that he almost forgot what she looked like when she was happy. 

“- Of course ! And I wanna know all the updates about that girl, because she must be brave to want to engage in a relationship with you.”

It was his turn to smile and let happiness fill him again. Why he waited so much time to finally be honest with her when it was clear that they had no feelings for each other anymore would certainly forever be an enigma. But at least, they were both free. At least, Hana could find someone that will truly love her, that will love her like she deserved to be loved. And Yunho didn’t know if that would be enough to convince you that he was serious about you, that he truly loved you, but he had to try. Because you were worth every tear he shed, and all the pain in the world. He would go through these weeks of anguish again and again if it meant you would take him back. 

But Yunho had always been a gentleman - and yeah, it was ironic to describe himself like that after everything he had done - and he let you have as much time as you needed, as much space as you asked for. And even when the urge of letting you know about everything that happened was strong, he resisted the temptation to call you, or to send you a text he knew you would not read because you stopped doing that since that night. 

Everytime his gaze crossed yours in class, it was as if the first time he kissed you in that empty classroom replayed in his mind, it was as if he could still see himself wearing his leather jacket more often only because it still smelled like you and your perfume, it was as if he could still hear you say you loved him for the first time. Everytime his gaze crossed yours in class, he wished you wouldn’t shy away, he wished you wouldn’t look so hurt, he wished he could go back in time and not do all the mistakes he did, he wished he could do everything right and make you happy, and love you right. 

Still, he let you run away after every class so you wouldn’t risk staying in his presence too much. Still, he let you slip through his hands a little more every time you answered his questions about books he had given to you without that energy and passion you had when it was only the two of you in that hotel room, when everything was still perfect. But it also felt like if he didn’t do something right now, you were gonna leave and never come back in his life. He had to do something, he had to stop being a loser, he had to show you that you were never the second choice. 

You were surprised to find another bouquet of lilies on your doorstep before going to class on a random Wednesday. It had been weeks since you last talked to him outside of classes, and it had been more than two months since you last looked at his texts. You weren’t strong enough to block his number again, but you tried not to open the messages anymore. This time there was something written on a little note ; him asking you to meet him by the hill he showed you the night it all went down if you were willing to listen to him, and that if you didn’t come, he would understand that you didn’t want to see him again and that he would leave you alone, no questions asked. 

You thought that you would hesitate more, but in your heart, you had already made the decision to go as soon as you saw the bouquet of your favourite flowers he managed to remember even months after you told him. When you parked your car at the spot he had showed you, his was already there. Yunho was waiting for you, contemplating the cityscape, leaning against the hood of his car, hands in the pockets of his black pants, his white tee moving along with the wind. He looked good in anything, but these simple outfits were always making him look so cosy that you wanted nothing more than snuggling in his arms. 

The warmer wind of the end of spring hit your face as soon as you put your feet outside, the breeze making your hair and the skirt of your flowy dress fly around like you were in some type of dramatic movie. Expect that in those, it always ended well, and that you knew for a fact that your happy end was impossible. But Yunho turned to look at you almost in slow motion, and this time, you couldn’t avoid his intense stare, and this time, you wanted to dive back into whatever the two of you had. 

“- You came.”

His voice was steady, but you could still hear the relief seeping through his words.

“- You asked.”

It was as simple as that, as simple as breathing and walking, as simple as reading and writing. He asked, he called, and you were there in a heartbeat because you would sell your soul for him. 

“- We broke up. We agreed that we didn’t love each other anymore for a long time, and that it was the best decision for both of us.”

You wanted to be sarcastic, wanted to tell him something along the lines of “you want a medal or something”, but it was only because you didn’t know how to deal with that information. Because you didn’t know if it meant anything to him, if it meant anything to you. Before you could think about a kinder response, Yunho continued. 

“- I told you I was willing to do everything if it meant I could be with you, and I was serious. This is the first step, and I’m gonna go all the way even if you’re not willing to give me a second chance because you made me realise how wrong I was all this time.

- But you have a family, friends and a job. You won’t give all that up for me, I don’t want you to. 

- Angel, I’m taking all these risks because it’s for you, because I want you to see that I’m ready to do anything it takes to be with you, and that I’ll keep proving that you didn’t make a mistake by choosing me if you’re letting me come back into your life. My family gave up on me a long while ago, it’s only time for them to understand everything they put me through. And I believe that my friends will be wise enough to choose to support me, because you’re my happiness, and that’s what they should wish for me. 

- Yes, but you’ll still be my teacher. 

- I’ve been your teacher until then and it didn’t cause any problems, did it ? And even if I got in trouble, I know we would figure something out. You mean everything to me Y/N, and I will spend the rest of my life making myself worthy of you if you let me because I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else before.”

Your mind wanted you to say no, but your heart was begging for you to say yes, to give in, to let yourself be happy. And for once, you decided to stop being reasonable. For once, you decided to let things go, to let him guide you through it, to let yourself live.

“- You already are. You’ve always been worthy of me, Yu. I-I love you too, I love you so much.”

This time, when tears started to run down your cheeks, Yunho didn’t hesitate one second before pulling you into his arms, running his fingers against your back to soothe you. The way you immediately circled his waist to have him closer to you made his heartbeat pick up, and you chuckled lightly against his chest when you noticed it. And you stayed like that for who knows how long. The only thing you were aware of was that you’ve never felt as good as when you were in his arms. And maybe it was wrong, maybe it was a mistake. But it felt just right, it clicked perfectly, like the last pieces of a puzzle you had forgotten on your desk for years and that you finally came back to complete only now. When you raised your head to look him in the eyes, Yunho smiled, and you couldn’t help doing the same, especially when he kissed your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. 

“- In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

You wanted to slap him for being so cheesy, but the way your heart missed a couple of beats at the intensity with which he was looking into your eyes rendered you unable to talk, unable to think about some quote to say back to him. 

“- If you keep on confessing to me like that, I might give in, you know…

- Don’t worry about that, angel, I have a ton of citations you’re gonna love.”

His boyish grin made you smile wider, and you couldn’t help the urge to kiss him again, because now you had the right to do so. Being the teacher’s pet had its downsides, but in terms of love confessions, you were certain that Yunho would never run out of ideas. And you were okay with that, because as long as he was with you and that you were with him, there was no way something would go wrong. You smiled at him, and he smiled at you, and as the sun set behind you like in the romance movies you despised, you thought that maybe, happy endings were not so bad in the end, especially when you were the one getting kissed passionately at the end of the film.

-> i don't allow any copies, translations or reposts of my work.

-> moon dividers by @samspenandsword

ateez masterlist (fill in this to be added) :

@sharonxdevi @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @foxinnie8 @riraives

[hitomisuzuya]

Hellloooooooo😖

This is my first time sending a requestttttt-

Before I ask, I hope you're happy and doing greatttttt, I wish you have a great, wonderful, and lovely day tomorrow!! I wish you the best!! I love you and your workkkk, advanced happy birthday to my favorite writer🫶🫶🫶!!

I was wondering if you can do a Yandere Scaramouche with a fem reader where she got kidnapped by him, and when she woke up, he was about to tell her that struggling is useless because she's tied up- but was surprised that she didn't even struggle at all.

He thought that she's only trying to get his trust so that she can escape later on- but when he saw how she seems to reciprocate his actions, and even initiates them sometimes.. He eventually trusted her-

The rest is up to you-!!

(I hope I didn't yap too much😖😖😖

English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if my grammar is bad-.. T-T

And also, to be specific, please make it smut-

Feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like writing it<3!!

Again, I hope you're doing great, take care of yourself, love you, bye bye-!!🖤🖤🖤)

Yandere!Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut Kidnapping. Drugging. Bondage. Degradation. Praise. Creampie. Obsessive/possessive behavior.

Porn with plot this time. This might be a bit longer than I anticipated cause I wanna work on dialogue and detail. I enjoy writing Yanderes ❤️ Smut written while sick, so bear with me🥺

You are way too good for this world, and certainly way too good for the likes of Scaramouche. He knew this. However, this was for your own good. You are strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you. He had to get to you before the unfortunate dregs of life broke you down. Sank it's claws into you, and broke you into a bunch of unfamiliar little pieces.

He more than had experience in the regard.

Scaramouche spent months preparing for this. What he didn't expect was what happened when you finally woke up. The confusion was evident in your eyes when they opened, blinking a few times to focus your vision.

"You are awake," His voice sounded like velvet in your ears, your gaze snapping to him, "Before you woke up, it was real treat for me, you know?" He walked over to the bed, "Getting to see what you look like all tied up for me," His fingers brushed one of your wrists, "Though I am starting to wonder if blue would look just as pretty on those delicate little wrists of yours."

It took a few moments for everything to catch up with you. Your breath hitched in your throat, a shy embarrassed blush that he often craved to see coated your cheeks, your eyes glancing up. Your wrists were tied together and to the headboard with purple ribbons of silk. "What's happening?" You asked a little weakly.

Scaramouche was surprised at the blush. He cleared his throat. "A valid question. I kidnapped you. You dropped like a brick after I drugged you. I may have used a bit more than I needed, but you haven't been sleeping well lately," He replied, matter of fact.

You sighed softly. "Okay," You nodded, adjusting yourself on the bed a little.

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. What was with you? What was up with that blush on your cheeks? Why were you being so calm? Why didn't you flinch away from the touch of someone who'd just drugged and kidnapped you?

Did he dare think you'd thought about being tied up for him?

"There is no use in struggling," He added, to which you only looked calm. He put his hand on your cheek, waiting for you to shriek and shy away from him.

Looking into his electric eyes always made your heart shake. "But, I'm not," His breath hitched in his throat as you turned your cheek into his hand.

"Yeah, you aren't. Now," You were no doubt trying to lure him into a false sense of security. That was usually the go to strategy for anyone who got kidnapped.

Perhaps he would keep you quiet with the few extra doses of sedatives for the first few days.

"Fine, leave me tied up for awhile. When you feel comfortable, untie me. I'll prove I won't run away," You said, giving him a soft smile that made him grit his teeth, "I promise."

Scaramouche flinched hearing the words I promise. So, he tested you. Boy did he test you. He would leave little traps to see if you would leave. He left the door unlocked. The windows open. He even left the damn door wide open. And yet when he returned, there you were, waiting for him.

Was this what love and loyalty looked like in another person? Did he finally understand what those things met?

The more he pushed his boundaries to see if you would break, the more you seemed to accept him. He got handsy and grabby with you, holding you down while he pressed lustful, harsh kisses to your lips. His teeth biting at your lower lip, his fingers brushing over all the intimate places he wanted to sink his teeth into.

Scaramouche was drowning both you and him in the obsessive passion he felt for you. And you accepted every bit of it. Even felt comforted by it. And when you said, "I want you to touch me. I want you," crawling to straddle his lap and nuzzling your cheek into his neck, every last bit of control he had shattered like glass.

"Say it," He hissed, his hand gripping the headboard tighter as he drove his cock into your sweet spot, "Tell me you want me while I make you cum on my cock, slut," He groaned, trembling as he felt your gummy walls clench on his cock.

If you could touch him, you would've. Your hands were tied above your head to the headboard, one wrist wrapped in purple silk, the other wrapped in blue (he couldn't make up his mind). "I want you, Scaramouche," You moaned, rocking your hips up to help push his cock deeper inside of you, "I want you so badly. I always have."

Fuck, your moans sounded so fucking sweet. It sent him reeling that someone like him could make someone like you, the purest thing in this world to him, moan so lewdly. Your weeping, abused pussy sucking his cock in. It was all so fucking addicting.

He drank in the sight of you, twitching and writhing underneath him, ribbons rubbing against your wrists from the force of his thrusts. Your eyes half lidded, and drool pooling from the corner of your mouth. Would you touch yourself if he untied you right here and now from how good he was making you feel? Your fingers skating over your clit, making your walls tighter on his cock?

There wasn't one intimate part of your body that didn't have dark, blossoming bruises of passion bitten into it. He'd had his fingers inside of you while he marked you up, feeling you soak his hand as he sucked and bite your skin.

"I fucking hope you know I am cumming inside," He growled, hovering his other hand over your throat. He didn't wrap his hand around it and squeeze. He just left it there to exert his dominance over you. Cum nearly spilled inside of you seeing how much it aroused you.

Seeing your eyes light up hearing that he planned to cum inside. The intimacy made your orgasm curl tighter. "Y-You promise?" You managed, moving your head back, and exposing your throat submissively to him for him to squeeze if he wanted.

Scaramouche couldn't hold back his moans anymore, especially not after that and so sweetly said. "Fuck, I'll pump you so fucking full. What a whore," He groaned. He would pump you so full like he imagined all those nights he jacked himself off to thoughts of you.

He knew he would never get enough of the shy, adoring blush that coated your cheeks when he degraded you.

"You are mine. All mine," His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as his cock pulsed inside of you. "Do you underneath me, slut? Or are you too fucked dumb?"

"I'm all yours, Scara. I always was," Your words were said with such tender truth to them. He couldn't detect one single hint of deception in your voice, even as your words broke apart into moans and whimpers.

You couldn't help it. You are in so love with him that it hurt. You'd just been too scared to tell him. Afraid of rejection. He could see it in your eyes. But, he understood that completely. "Shh, it's okay now, kitten," He started to babble, shuddering in pleasure as he pushed one of your knees up towards your chest, "I have you now. Everything will be okay. This horrible world won't ever hurt you," His hips snapped into yours with twice the vigor, "I'll see to that."

Only he alone could taint and corrupt you. Only he could break you down and put you back together as he saw fit. It was all the better for him that you accepted it without hesitation.

"You are close, fuck I can feel it," Your walls were squeezing so deliciously tight on his cock. He placed a rough, passionate kiss on your lips, devouring your mouth for a few long minutes. "And you are crying to," He pulled away, brushing the tears of pleasure falling from your eyes away with his thumb, "Cum on my cock like a good girl. You want me to cum inside, don't you?" He cooed.

You could barely manage a nod, crying out for him as your orgasm hit you. Your cum flooded around his cock, the feeling of your walls craving to milk his cock made cum pulse inside of you.

His fingers relentlessly rubbed your clit, further making you twitch and mewl in bliss as he fucked you through your climax.

"Good fucking girl," Scaramouche said, panting as he pulled out of you. Cum dripped out of your weeping hole. He didn't give you time to catch your breath, however. He was already working his way down between your legs to lick and suck your pussy clean.

[ccraccz]

Hello! I'm a new follower of yours~ I may not know how much are you in the manga, so this might be a lil spoiler for you (sorry). Suo actually knows the language of flowers! Maybe this could be a req of him courting fem!reader owo

Have a nice day!

SO CUTTEE!! THANK YOU FOR BOTH THE FOLLOW AND THE REQUEST!!

Flowers for you

Suo x Fem!Reader

TW: assault, reader being used as a hostage, implied bullying? (PLease tell me if I missed a TW!!)

The first time it happens is on a random Monday. A bouquet of different colored camelias being given to you by Suo, a sly smile and unearthly attractive smile on his face as he hands them over. His uncovered eye squinting as he watches you blush at the situation.

"For you, my lady," he says, confirming the main question that was swimming in your brain.

"But... Why?" You ask, genuinely wondering about the reason of the sudden gift. Suo chuckles as you grab the flowers in your hands and hold them closer. "Well..." He starts, turning to walk beside you, hands behind his back as usual, he looks at forward, ignoring your eyes that were intensely looking at him. "They reminded me of you, and there was a special on them, so I decided to try and make your day start in a good way."

That was a lie. Well, part of it was a lie. The beautiful, multicolored camelias did remind him of you, but the bouquet was going to be a lot more expensive if he wasn't recognized by the flower shop owner for saving his daughter from some perverted gang members. Not only was the bouquet free as a payback for saving his daughter, but as a thanks for helping around the town.

"Well then..." You pout, looking away as you arrive at the bridge that connects you to the gates of your school. You genuinely didn't want to leave him there, but you had cleaning duty to go to and if you're one minute late, your class would chew you up, especially now that you had a bouquet of flowers in your hands.

That day you started your day with a smile, and ended it with that same smile.

Suo was right, these flowers did make your day start, and stay, a good way.

The second time was the day after he, and his group, fought a group of drunken, old, perverts decided to take you and your girlfriends from your class as hostages. The glare that Suo sported that day before he quickly beat up the guys that were between him and the guy holding you was still burned into the front of your memories.

His eye seemed to glow under the street lights of the town, movements swifter than a cat but stronger than a bear. The drunken man holding you faltered at the sight of his men being beaten down, quickly seeing the disadvantage he's at. Due to that, he quickly pushes you away, having you land harshly on the ground and enraging Suo further.

After the fight, Suo was silent, too silent for your comfort as he walked you home. His arms weren't behind him, now one was wrapped around your waist and the other in his pocket.

The day after, there were flowers on your door step. Another bouquet and a plush of a fluffy puppy holding it.

The flowers were in a beautiful arrangement of white gardenias, daffodils, primrose primulas, and white heather flowers, a red ribbon tied around the bottom of the stems to keep them together. Under the plush, there is a note from Suo.

His hand writing is gorgeous, letters smooth and readable, sentences arranged in such grace it was shocking to think that this was written by a teenager in a delinquent school.

The letter said: Dear [Name],

I hope this letter finds you well and recovered from what happened yesterday night. I can only imagine how hollow you might feel...

And the rest was history, as tears bubbled up in your eyes and dribbled down your cheeks, the flowers tight in your embrace as your tears soaked into the paper and the top of the plush.

The third and last time was at the end of the day, two months after the incident, and a week before your birthday. You had been talking to some girls, who were gushing and blushing about their crushes while you stayed quiet. Walking out of the school and over the bridge, you see him.

Suo was standing at the other end of the bridge, another bouquet in his hand, a small gift box in his other hand. You paused as the girls beside you start fawning over Suo, talking about how attractive he is, and wondering who those flowers were for, and what about that box?

You were internally sweating, starting to walk behind the girls again, who were giggling and bumping into each other before you.

"So?" One of the prettier girls walks forward, having the guts to confront the delinquent. "Is that for me?" she asks, bottom lip bitten seductively.

Suo smiles at her, "Definitely..." He pauses and looks around the group. "Not," his smile drops before he walks forward and breaks apart the group, until he was in front of you.

"[Name]?" Suo smiles, eye closing with a light blush on his face.

He looked ethereal, better than any mythical, historical, or fictional character you've ever seen in your life. The sun was the perfect shade, hitting his face in every attractive way it could.

"I'm here to give you these," He speaks, his voice soft and nearly musical. He holds out the flowers towards you to take as your cheeks flush a beautiful pink as the situation registers in your mind.

"For me?" You whisper in shock.

"Yes," He nods "for you gorgeous."

In her hands was a large bouquet, filled with white gardenias, red roses, white camelias, baby's breath, and a multitude of gloxinias. "Those white gardenias represent your purity and how lovely you are, the roses represent my love for you, the white camelias describe how adorable and perfect you are, the baby's breath are a symbol of-"

You cut him off, putting the flowers into one arm as you grab him by the cheek and slot your lips onto his.

The show of affection makes the girls around swear and leave, while, somewhere in the bushes, there is a sensor going off, smoking even.

That wasn't the last time he brought you flowers, and it definitely was not the last time he described them, since every time he did, it would lead to something more.

[javiscigarette]

Emergency Contact

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Frankie gets in trouble and this is the last time you're helping him. At least that's what you tell yourself.

Warnings: angst, smut, post break up, mentions of drug/alchol use/abuse, military ptsd, frankie on a downward spiral and needs to get his shit together, emotional smut because I had to, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, frankie is literally this emoji -> 🥺 the whole time

w/c: 6.8K

a/n: part of @iamasaddie writing challenge 2.0!!! I picked puppy eyes brown and my genre was angst with the prompt: "Tell me how to fix this." And guys listen. I literally never write angst I’m such a softy but I tried my best with this okay! and I obviously had to include some smut I just couldn't resist hehehe. Also thank u to my baby love @undrthelights for finding theses pics and for everything else you do :) enjoy!

my masterlist

You should scream at him, yell at him. Tell him to get the fuck out, fight him tooth and nail to prevent him from worming his way back into your heart, to avoid anymore pain.  But then he’s against you, his chest flush against your back, legs tangling together under the blankets. He slips an arm around your waist, the other underneath you, pulling you against him tighter as he nuzzles into your neck, burying his face into your hair and takes a deep breath. “Just one more night" he whispers. "Please. Just let me have one more night."

The vibrations of your phone buzzing on your nightstand pulls you from a deep slumber, your heart is already pounding at the sudden noise, the rest of your body slow and sluggish as you try to gain your bearings. 

You paw for your phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen when you find it. A call from a number you don't recognize. You debate letting it go to voicemail but the area code is local and that makes you pick up, a raspy Hello? leaving your mouth as you roll over in bed, glancing at the clock. 

2:13 am.

The sound of your name crackles down the line, the immediately recognizable voice causing your heart to plummet to your ass.  

"Frankie?" You ask, sleep quickly leaving you as tension takes its place.

"...Yeah, sorry, I…I didn't know who else to call." His voice is frail and pinched.

You don't have to ask him what's wrong, your brain already piecing the puzzle together You've been in this exact position before. The anger is already starting to creep in, your brow furrowed and stomach twisting as a familiar rage blooms in your chest.

"You couldn't have called anyone else?"

You know the answer is no. The rest of the boys are on a mission, leaving him behind after he failed on his promise to stay clean for long enough to get cleared to go. And now, you’ve fallen victim to that decision too,being the only person left to call whenever he finds himself without a leg to stand on. Frankie in trouble, you bailing him out. Just like normal. 

"I'm sorry I didn't want to bother you I just..." he takes a deep breath and sighs. "I'm at the station on Oak street. Can you maybe... pick me up?"

You close your eyes and take a moment to compose yourself and reign in the anger at the way he's gotten under your skin already.

"What did you do this time, Frankie?"

He's quiet for a second before he finally says, "DUI. And um, slightly resisting arrest? It’s uh, it’s my first one and I didn’t blow too high so they’re letting me go as long as I show up for court in a few days."

His voice is soft but you can hear him fighting back emotion, his voice cracking and straining under the pressure. the sound eliciting sympathy you desperately wish you didn't feel.

"Jesus, Frankie," you sigh, defeated already.

It shouldn't even faze you at this point. It should be expected given the path he's fallen down since his return home from their last mission 3 months ago. The Frankie you knew before he left had been a steady force. Protective, headstrong but soft in his demeanor, so sweet and full of love. The man now standing in his shoes still holds some traits of that Frankie, but they've all been scarred and tainted with his fall from grace.

Memories of the nights spent tucked in his bed, his arms around you, his hands buried in your hair come flooding back like they usually do. The sound of his laugh, the feel of the downy hairs on his forearm pressed against your skin and the steady thrum of his pulse under his jaw as you placed kisses against his neck. The words you would speak softly to one another in the early hours of the morning, secrets only shared with each other under the protection of black velvet night sky. 

All of it traded for bitter resentment and anger towards a version of the man that was ripped away from you.

When he was gone, you’d sleep in his shirts and on his pillow, clinging to the faded scent of his cologne as your brain conjured up ghost touches from his fingertips. Dreaming of the day that he'd come home, how he might touch you, and kiss you, the taste of his lips and the feel of his skin on yours. A reunion so deeply desired that the day after he returned was a sharp double edged sword - a blessing, and a curse. The Frankie that walked back in your life was broken, smothered with the weight of the innocent lives on his hands. 

Warmth and tenderness traded for stony silence. Nights now spent at the bar, warming himself up with vodka instead of your embrace. Fights ending in harsh words and raised voices as he stubbornly dug his heels in deep, too ashamed to admit he needed help. Staying out late with no warning and coming back at dawn smelling of smoke, weed, and liquor. You are always wondering where he went, who he was with, if he was safe, or if he’d found someone else to soothe the pain. 

Then the coke. An old habit that was kicked to the curb in his earlier years now back with a vengeance. Your ultimatum quickly following.

This or you.

A choice you prayed he'd be strong enough to make, but was clearly not.

And now here you are. Two months since you walked away, trying to convince yourself it was for the best. The majority of the last two months of his life is a mystery to you, which you've accepted is probably for the better. 

"I know," he finally replies. "I'm so sorry baby, you know I..."

You can almost hear the way his jaw snaps shut, three words catching on his tongue. You don't need to ask to know what the next words are. Tonight was not the first time he's tried to use them in a vain attempt to patch up a crack in the foundation of your crumbling relationship.

There’s nothing but silence on the line as a war wages within you. Part of you wants to believe that he’s the selfish, careless man that he’s recently proven himself to be. But your heart whispers in your ear a softer notion. He's scared. Fragile. Battered. Embarrassed. Alone.

With a heavy sigh, you run your hand down your face in a feeble attempt to wipe away some of the grogginess clinging to you.

"I'll be there in 20," you say.

There's a pause before he speaks, "Really?"

Always an air of disbelief.

"Yes. But this is the last time I'm doing this Frankie, I mean it,"

"I know, I... thank you."

You don't bother to reply, simply hanging up the phone as the heaviness of this final gesture sets in. The gravity of the situation, of the line you're about to cross, already threatening to consume you.

This will, without a shadow of a doubt, be the last time you show up to save Frankie’s ass. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself. Just like you told yourself the last time this happened and the time before that. But this time will be different. You'll set new boundaries. That's it, just ride this storm one final time and be done.

You know it’s a lie, one you desperately want to believe it.

___

He’s standing outside the doors of the small station, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, wisps of smoke rising and dissipating in the still night air. He looks up as he hears the engine of your car approaching, the red glow of his cigarette temporarily highlighting the deep frown on his lips as he takes one last drag before he flicks the butt aside and heads your way.

The anxiety radiating off of him is tangible as he drops into the passenger's seat, gently shutting the door and peering at you with wide puppy dog eyes full of shame. You don't look at him, focusing on backing out of the parking spot before pulling onto the road.

He picks at the skin around his thumb and bounces his leg, his jaw tight. You wonder how long he’s been at the station. How long he’s been sober. You’re still not sure if he entirely is right now.

Most of the ride is silent save for the hum of your engine and the clicks of your turn signal. His eyes never leave you, he can feel him boring a hole in your profile, trying to catch your eye as you watch the road.

"What?" you finally snap.

"Nothing, just...I was wondering if I could stay with you tonight. I can sleep on the couch, I…I don’t really want to be alone right now" he speaks so softly it makes your stomach lurch.

"Absolutely not."

"Please? I'll leave early in the morning, by the time you wake up I'll be long gone."

The rage is back, glowing red hot in your chest, fingernails digging into the leather of the steering wheel, your knuckles white and tense. How fucking dare he ask. 

"Absolutely. Fucking. Not," your grit your teeth with each word, biting off the end of the sentence with a sharp finality.

"Right. Okay."

Silence takes over once again, your heart slamming against your chest, heat crawling up your neck as your cheeks grow red and damp. No. No. Absolutely fucking not. Absolutely not.

Frankie leans his head back against the headrest and rolls it to the side to watch you again. You can feel the disappointment radiating off him, hear him sniffling, his eyes, big and glassy, pleading when you glance over at him. 

It would be a lie to tell yourself that your “plan” isn't already halfway out the window as your jaw clenches and your gaze ping pongs between the road ahead and the man beside you. Deep in the darkness of your soul you know that with Frankie is where your comfort lies. It’s tucked in the space between his ribs, squished alongside his heart and lungs, running the length of his spine and settling between each vertebrae. You worry you may never be able to completely dislodge it, unsure if it would ever fit anywhere else in any other person.

Maybe it would be easier if Frankie didn't fill up the cracks in your heart with the fractured parts of his. If he didn't take up room in your brain that's not his to own, if he didn’t crawl under your skin and take root into your DNA. Now every cell in your body knows what it feels like to be next to him, now programmed to cry out for his presence when he isn’t near.

And it’s no different now. He’s here, looking so pathetic it’s almost laughable, staring at you with tears sliding down his cheeks that glisten in the glow of the headlights passing you by. Crying over something that’s entirely his fault. You should be the one crying right now. Not him. 

So you do. 

Hot angry tears spilling over your lash line. Though you can’t decide who you’re more upset with. The man who drank himself out of your life, or yourself for falling for him once again in spite of it all. Either way, it’s not enough to convince yourself to stay firm in your decision. 

Fucking pathetic. Both of you. 

“You’re out first thing in the morning and then I’m done Frankie. I fucking mean it this time, we can't keep doing this to each other."

“Okay. I promise baby, I will. First thing, I promise." He replies quietly. 

Your hand flinches with the urge to reach over and slap him for calling you baby. But instead, you clench your jaw and you shake your head at him.

"Don’t call me that, Frankie."

He quickly nods his head in understanding, his eyes again facing forward as he wipes away the wetness from his cheeks, watching the road the rest of the way to your house. 

—

Neither of you move once the car is parked in your driveway. The silence is heavy, cut only by the tick of the engine slowly cooling once you remove the keys from the ignition. You chance a look at him and find him picking at his thumb once more, his face red, his eyes soft and timid when they meet yours. 

“Tell me what happened, Frankie?” 

You ask even though you don’t really want to know. 

Frankie sucks in a breath and scrubs a hand down his face. 

"I got into a fight at the bar, got kicked out, made the dumb fucking decision to try and drive home and...now I'm here," he laughs mirthlessly as he waves his hands as a vague gesture to you, your house, his current situation. You can't tell if he's telling you the whole story, his answer simple and devoid of context. The context you’re sure wouldn't be good for you to know. 

“You could’ve killed someone, Frankie. yourself included,” you say after a few beats, your voice comes out sharp, frustration bleeding in each syllable.

He slowly nods as huffs out a breath.

"I know... it was stupid, and I was an idiot I...shit I was really careless and not thinking straight I’m sorry. I'm really sorry I-"

"I mean seriously Frankie,” you snap, cutting him off. “Do you ever, I mean ever, think about anyone but yourself? Or has it genuinely never crossed your mind that your shit might possibly affect the people around you?"

Frankie opens his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he's about to respond. You don’t give him a chance to. 

"How many more times are you going to take advantage of me, make me look like a fucking dumbass always showing up to rescue you? Why am I always the one covering for you, taking your crap, cleaning up your messes, only to have you throw it right back in my fucking face, every single time!"

Your voice cracks at the end of your sentence, chest heaving with each word that flies from your mouth. Two months worth of bitterness bubbling up from deep down, spilling over and cascading down your face in the form of frustrated tears.

"When did you become so fucking selfish, Francisco?!"

Hearing his full name fall from your lips spurs Frankie on, the last of his shards of resolve flying away as his walls come down.

"I don't fucking know okay?! I don't fucking know!" You flinch at the rise in his voice and his tone stings. But it's how quickly he follows up with a softer, feeble excuse that adds fuel to the fire, "I'm doing the best I can."

That does it for you. Hot searing molten rage pulses under the skin of your face, the tips of your ears hot with blood.

"Doing the best you can? The best you fucking can, Frankie? Fucking bullshit! Getting into bar fights, spending all your money on booze and blow, losing your fucking pilot license because you were too coked up to see straight? Was losing your driver's license just putting your best foot forward? Throwing your whole life away just because you refuse to get clean? Is that really the best you can do?"

You pause and swallow, giving Frankie a second to take it all in, letting him process the onslaught of scalding truths you've thrown at him, before you quietly continue,

"I can't keep doing this, Frankie. I just can't."

He sniffs and shakes his head in what appears to be defeat, his gaze fixed on his hands folded in his lap. 

“I know...fuck. I know I’ve fucked up alright? I know that. I just don't know how to fix this," he admits quietly, his wide eyes watching you helplessly. “Tell me how. Tell me how I can fix this. Please."

You bark out a laugh, sarcastic and cynical.

"Are you serious right now? What do you mean you don’t know what to do? How many times did I help you try to find a therapist, try to get you into a program? How many times did I suggest AA? Don't fucking tell me you don't know what to do because you do."

He nods, shifting around in the seat, sniffling yet again as he looks back at you. "Okay, okay. I get it, okay? But what can I do right now? To fix this at least for tonight?"

You sigh, deep and heavy, your entire body now just exhausted. You half wish he would put up more of a fight, call you a bitch, snap back at you for going off on him. Maybe it’d make it easier for you to let him go. But instead, he looks at you with desperate eyes and you can feel your resolve crumbling once again. 

"Just forget it, Frankie.”

But he won’t give up that easily. The man is persistent, you’ll give him that. 

"I'm serious. Tell me what I need to do right now to fix this. What can I do to show you how sorry I am?"

You stare back at him, jaw clenched, biting back the next words you were about to speak. They die on the edge of your tongue. You know the answer is.

Not a single damn thing.

"Look, I'll try harder, I fucking promise alright?” His tone becomes more frantic as your silence stretches on. “I’ll fucking try harder, please just...please," Frankie pleads, more tears welling in his eyes.

Your throat is tight, your head spinning and aching as your blood roars in your ears. He's already taken enough, stealing more would simply be the end of you. Giving in now would mean you've swallowed the bait, falling hook line and sinker into his trap, stepping back onto the slippery slope you've fought so hard to escape. And for what? More heartache, more bullshit excuses, more fighting, more pain?

But one glance into his wide-eyed, watery gaze and you know he's got you. Again. Faster than you can tell your mind no, your heart, foolish and hopeful, speaks for you instead.

"Lets just get some sleep, okay? It's late. We can...we can figure it out tomorrow."

"Thank you," he whispers immediately, relief coming off of him in waves. "I really mean it, I-thank you, I promise I’ll—“

“Can we not talk anymore Frankie? I just wanna go to sleep."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, let’s go."

There's nothing left to say, washing over the two of you as you make your way inside. You give him a towel and dig up some of his old clothes that live in the back of your closet from when he was here almost every night. You're back in bed before he’s done with his shower, tucked underneath the covers with your face pressed against your pillow, the silk fabric soaking up your tears of sadness and frustration.

The water shuts off and you can hear him getting settled in the living room. A pillow being fluffed, the creak of the couch when he sits. 

And then soft footsteps on the hardwood 5 minutes later, padding their way into your room.

He doesn’t knock. He doesn’t bother speaking either. He just simply creaks open the door and walks over to the other side of the bed, peeling back the covers before slipping into bed beside you. 

You should scream at him, yell at him. Tell him to get the fuck out, fight him tooth and nail to prevent him from worming his way back into your heart, to avoid anymore pain. 

But then he’s against you, his chest flush against your back, legs tangling together under the blankets. He slips an arm around your waist, the other underneath you, pulling you against him tighter as he nuzzles into your neck, burying his face into your hair and takes a deep breath.

“Just one more night" he whispers. "Please. Just let me have one more night."

You don’t have any fight left in you. Because at the end of the day, a night spent wrapped up in his arms, inhaling his scent, touching his skin and his beating heart is worth a thousand fights. And a million shattered dreams.

You don’t answer him, but you don’t tell him to leave either. Instead, you block out any looming thoughts, the impending worry of where this could go, or how bad the damage will be. For now, you chose to focus on the rise and fall of Frankie's breath against your skin, the way you fit so perfectly into his arms. 

One more night.

Frankie presses a kiss into the back of your neck, repeating his previous sentiment in a rough scratchy whisper, "Just one more."

And you listen to it resonate, bouncing around the walls in your head and tickling the space behind your eardrums.

Inhale

Exhale.

You should want to fight.

But instead, your body melts his, molding your bones and flesh against his, fitting into all the creases and gaps that have been carved out and reserved just for you.Trying to forget, to bury this pain as deep as possible,. Just for tonight. 

He waits a few more minutes, waiting until your breathing levels out with his before he makes his next move. His fingers trace mindless patterns on the skin of your stomach, goosebumps erupting under his fingertips, rippling outwards like a rock being tossed in a pond. He leans in once more, slowly dragging his nose up the length of your neck and curling his lip to press another kiss behind your ear. Then another.

And then another, this time lingering as he sucks softly on your skin.

Inhale.

You close your eyes, hoping for anything but this, yet feeling the sting of arousal spark below your skin.

And exhale. 

You’re better than this. You won’t stoop down to his level, you won’t let him chew you up and spit you out again.

But fuck, his lips are soft and warm, so is the breath as he exhales against your neck, lightly swiping his tongue and soothing the faint red mark he left behind with a small little hum.

“Frankie..." You warn, albeit much more breathless and weak than you would have liked. 

“Tell me to stop and I will," he murmurs, his beard gently grazing your sensitive skin, causing your toes to curl.

You take another deep breath, but this one is shaky, as you can't help but tighten your grip around his hand, squeezing his fingers as you lean your neck to the side, exposing more of your soft skin to him.

Dead in his trap. Caught so fucking easily. Pathetic.

But if his teeth and lips and tongue and soft, gentle touches are how you go down, then so fucking be it.

He hums his appreciation against your skin, scraping his teeth down to your shoulder, latching his mouth on a spot and sucking harder. Strong, callused fingers continue exploring, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to give him permission.

He rolls his hips forward against your ass and you bite your lip to stifle the whimper at how hard he is against you, his soft grunts in your ear traveling straight between your legs and fanning the flames building.

Then suddenly, he's sliding his hand up your shirt, squeezing your waist and traipsing over your chest until he’s cradling the weight of your breast in his palm, his thumb slowly brushing over your peaked nipple, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to moan out loud.

A small gasp escapes you instead, your fingernails digging into the back of his hand. 

"Frankie."

This time not a warning. It’s a plea. A desperate, burning want that you should be ashamed of. 

He murmurs into the shell of your ear then, his tone is deep and scratchy. 

“I miss you...I need you, baby. Just tell me to stop if you want. But I... fuck I miss you so much."

You don't tell him to stop.

You roll your hips back instinctively, a warm wave of arousal washing over you at the feeling Frankie's hardened length pressed firmly against your ass. He grunts in satisfaction as his palm slides from your chest and up your throat to your jaw. His grip is gentle as he turns your head to face him, his lips against yours without missing a beat. 

It’s too easy to fall right back into him, back into the practiced, very well rehearsed routine. To let him glide his tongue along the seam of your lips and coax them open so he can lick into your mouth, getting the taste of his tongue stuck behind your teeth. Too easy to let him remind you just how easily you fit in the palm of his hand, how tightly you’re wound around his finger. 

He kisses you fervently, desperately almost, lips and tongue moving against yours as though he’s trying to devour you whole, just like he used to. He’s been starving for too long.But right now, he's finally found nourishment, the feeling of your body under his hands and the taste of you on his tongue feeding his soul. Wanting more. Always more, entirely unable to help himself.

“Wanna make you feel good,” he murmurs, his mouth half a centimeter away from yours. “Let me make you feel good baby, please.”

As if you could say no.

As if you even wanted to.

He pushes his leg between yours, thick, firm muscle under warm skin pressing against your clothed core and you answer him with a roll of your hips, seeking out any sort of friction you can. 

It takes less than half a second for him to have you flipped over on your back. When Frankie truly wants something, he does it quickly and efficiently.

He moves above you, licking and kissing a trail down your neck. He makes his way down your body, greedily nipping at the skin stretched over your collarbones. He swirls his tongue over each nipple, only moving on when he’s satisfied. He presses wet, open mouthed kisses to your ribs and your tummy just above your navel, his beard tickling skin, making it twitch under his mouth. 

Your body is cooperating far more than it should, your hips lifting up instinctually when he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties, your thighs automatically parting further, and your hands migrating to his head. Your fingers tangle in his soft curl, your nails softly scratching his scalp just like you know he likes. 

And when his tongue drags up your thigh you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop the reactive moan. But your back arches with pleasure anyway, the last bit of your resolve evaporating into thin air as you give into him freely.  

His hands burn hot where they smooth over your skin, a comforting weight and a familiar drag of calloused palms fueling the fire and tightening the coil in your stomach. 

“Missed you so much,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your pussy before you feel the first stroke of his flat tongue up through your center.

This time, you're not strong enough to hold back the breathless mewl that leaves your mouth. You immediately push down on his head while simultaneously canting your hips upward, needing more friction, dying for more of everything he's willing to offer. He slides his arms underneath you and hooks his hand over your hip bones, holding you down and keeping you in place as he tries to find salvation between your thighs.

Heavy breaths through his nose as he uses his mouth, lips and tongue working in tandem to take you apart. Lapping and sucking at your clit while his fingertips nudge at your entrance, dipping just enough to tease, waiting until he hears the high pitched whimpers that he's after.

And when you've reached that level of desperation he wants from you, whimpering and panting, he slowly dips a finger in.

He moans along with you as though he's the one experiencing the pleasure. He's always gotten off on this almost just as much as you. The warm, slick slide of his fingers in and out of you, how you gush on his tongue, your thighs trembling on either side of his head, the tingle of his scalp when you tug on his hair.

More addictive than any substance he's ever found solace in.

And against your better knowledge, you're more than happy to indulge him, let him chase the high you give him and let yourself drown in it as well.

Your back arches off the bed as he adds another finger, grunting into you and thrusting faster as you tighten and flutter around them. He finds the spot he's looking for with practiced ease, whimpering into you and groaning along with you as he drags his fingers back and forth along the spot that has you bucking your hips into his hand. 

He knows how to get you there. Knows how to do it fast. And right now, that's what he wants. He's craved it too long, spent far too many nights with his hand wrapped around his leaking cock your name on the tip of his tongue as he fucked up into his own hand. He wants to hear you fall apart again, feel you coming on his tongue, your walls clenching as they try to suck his fingers in deeper. Wantsto know that he hasn't ruined absolutely everything between the two of you.

"Come on baby, lemme feel you,” he urges, voice deep and rough as he brings you to the edge. His mouth, licking and sucking at your clit, works in perfect rhythm with his fingers, sliding in and out, crooking them at the exact angle and speed he knows will get you there. 

"Please, Frankie...need to– fuck, I'm..." Coherent words evade you as he works you towards your peak, your breath stuttering as you struggle to keep air in your lungs. Your grip tightens in his hair, tugging roughly in an effort to ground yourself as the wave of euphoria starts to crest, the undercurrent pulling you down. 

Frankie growls in approval as you tighten around his fingers, all your muscles tensing as the sensation crashes into you. Your mind and body shut off and float into that sweet state of oblivion as Frankie's name falls from your lips, mixed in with a litany of profanity and slurs and choked back moans. He doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down until you're yanking on his hair hard enough for it to hurt, trying to wiggle away from his touch.

Frankie raises his head up and locks eyes with you, the tip of his nose, beard, and cheeks shiny with your arousal as he looks up at you through his dark, heavy lidded lashes.

"Want you so bad," he sighs, breathless and needy, crawling up your body and resting his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. He kisses you again, soft and sweet as if he has the right, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

You whimper into the kiss and hook a leg over his hip to pull his hips towards you. His cock strains almost painfully in his boxers when he grinds it against you, your warm arousal dampening the front of the fabric.

"Gonna let me baby?" He rasps when he moves to your neck, his teeth scraping sensitive flesh.

You both already know he's won. You're not even putting up a fight at this point, any dignity you thought you had left totally abandoned the moment you picked up the phone. But he asks anyway, needing the verbal affirmation, needing the confirmation that you want him as badly as he needs you.

And you can't lie.You're both equally weak and vulnerable. Two pathetic, heartbroken creatures chasing a temporary relief. A small glimmer of something to make the pain more bearable, something to fill the hole for the briefest amount of time.

You both know. And neither of you care.

No response to his question. Instead, you push up the hem of his shirt up and he does the rest, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor before he hooks a thumb underneath the waistband of his boxers and tugs them down his hips and off his legs.

Your hand finds his cock and he hisses at the contact, his hips shuddering as he pushes forward into your grip. You swear he's thicker and longer than before, heavier and hotter where you hold him. Your thumb brushes over the tip, spreading the pearls of pre cum around, coating the rest of his length to ease your glide. Frankie's mouth finds your neck again, tongue and lips tasting and teasing, his shaky breath in your ear.

You try to push up onto your elbows in an effort to roll him over, wanting to take over. But a palm finds your chest, gently pushing you back down until your flat against the bed again. 

"Wanna look at you," he says simply, as he pushes his length into the palm of your hand once more before sliding out. 

He lets his length rest against your sensitive clit and gently rocks his hips, slicking himself with the mess between your legs, sighing whenever you gasp each time his tip nudges at your clit.

"Please..." you whisper, feeling pathetic and needy, but at this point too desperate to care.

And he’s equally impatient, not waiting another moment before lining himself up and slowly pushing in. 

You tense at the initial intrusion, not having been with anyone in far too long and the feeling is almost overwhelming. You're trying to remember how to breathe again as you let your head fall to the side, trying to hide from his intense stare. But Frankie's there, using a gentle finger to tilt your face back up towards him as his hips moving at an agonizingly slow pace to let you adjust.

"That's it baby. Look at me."

And you do, the heat in your belly burning brighter with his eyes boring into yours as he witnesses your surrender to him. Your heart aches, still raw and tender and in pain from all the hurt that's transpired. But you ignore it and tell yourself the tears in your eyes aren't a result of a broken heart, but rather of how full you feel as Frankie's length finally bottoms out in you.

"Fuck..." You both curse under your breath as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust before he starts to move his hips. You cling to his broad shoulders as he pulls out of you, his eyes glued to where you’re joined, his thick cock slick and shiny with your arousal before he slides back in again with a quiet groan. He repeats the motions over and over watching as he pulls out almost completely before pushing back in, stuffing you to the hilt.

"Shit,” he hisses under his breath, his eyelashes fluttering when you clench in response. “You feel so good baby, fuck."

He buries his face into your neck, panting and pressing soft kisses as his pace starts to speed up. The soft grunts in your ear turn into more desperate moans when you lock your legs around his waist, pulling him, trying to get him even deeper than he already is. 

Your fingernails dig into the skin of his shoulders, holding on for dear life, hoping that you’ll leave half crescent moon shapes embedded into his flesh. A painful reminder for the morning that you were here and this was real, despite the circumstances.

His hands slide under your ass, angling it upwards to let him hit just that little bit deeper inside, pushing the air from your lungs with each thrust. The muscles in his forearms flex and strain as he tries to hold back, always making sure you finish before he does. 

And he doesn't have to wait much longer. Your orgasm is creeping up and taking over your body and Frankie can sense it. He knows exactly what to look for, knows all the signs.

One hand moves to reach between the two of you two fingertips pressed against your pulsing clit, drawing fast, tight circles just like you like it. Your grip on his shoulder tightens, your nails digging into the skin and dragging down his back as his thrusts become more erratic. 

"Keep lookin' at me," he grunts and you struggle to keep your eyes open. They sting, the image of him above you starting to blur around the edges as he drives you closer and closer to your release.

"That's it, baby. Lemme see it, lemme see you come on my cock."

He doesn't have to tell you twice.

You come undone again just like that, dizziness spreading and heart hammering in your chest as you sob out, pleasure consuming you from within. He fucks you through it, not giving you a chance to catch your breath, as he curses and rambles in your ear about how he's missed this, how he's missed you.

You've barely started to come down when he grabs one of your legs behind your knee and pushes it into your chest, letting himself sink even deeper into you. The new angle has your head spinning, drowning in an unparalleled amount of pleasure. Your eyes flutter and roll back in your head as you whimper his name, fingers curling into the pillow above your head.

He doesn't last much longer, breathless moans and strangled whimpers into your neck as he gives you the last few sloppy thrusts. He's almost there, and when he tries to pull out, it's the way your leg tightens around his waste and your needy whine that sends him over the edge, groaning and cursing with his face in the crook of your neck as he spills himself into you.

His cock pulses inside you with every wave, his hips chasing his release, tiny jerks as he empties into you. He stills, his heavy breathing in your ear, his weight resting on you, heavy but grounding, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

Once the room stops spinning and the stars clear from behind your eyes, you drop your legs. With a shaky sigh, Frankie starts to pull out, both of you groaning in protest as he slips out.

His cum leaks out of you, quickly pooling between your thighs no matter how hard you squeeze your legs together. And when he catches sight of it, it makes your face burn. At the mere sight of his sticky, warm release spilling out of you, mixing with your own, Frankie swears he could go another round right then. Something about knowing he marked his territory, his claim on you established once again. He looks up at you, your eyes closed, forehead creased, and he has to dig his nails into his palm to keep from dragging his fingers through the cum leaking out of you and pushing it back in, keeping it where it should be. 

But the weight of reality is starting to press on him once again, the fear and shame from earlier taking root again and tugging at his stomach and pulling him out of the euphoria.

He kisses your hip bone once before making his way to the bathroom for a wet washcloth. The room is silent as he cleans you up, wiping gently between your legs, both of you keeping your eyes on anything except each other's. 

When he's done, he stands and moves to gather his clothes off the floor, tugging his boxers back on before heading towards the door. But your shaky, watery voice breaks the silence and freezes him where he stands.

"You're leaving?" You ask, voice squeaking at the end as you pull the sheet up to cover yourself, as if it would protect your heart when he ultimately breaks it again.

He turns to look at you, his heart aching in his chest from the innocent way you're looking at him. The way your eyebrows draw together, and your lips pull into a frown, the way your lower lip trembles as your eyes fill with tears.

"Can I stay?"

His voice is quiet, fragile, as if speaking any louder would scare you off, would cause you to start yelling at him again until you ultimately kick him to the curb for good.

He stares at you through the darkness of the room as you chew on your lip and try to grapple with the split decision you’re facing.

The logical part of your brain is screaming at you to say no and end this right here and now. But that part of your brain is buried and silenced underneath the heaviness in your heart. That desperate need to hang onto whatever's left. You swallow the lump in your throat and give in.

"Please," you plead softly. "Don't...don't want to be alone anymore."

A rush of air leaves his lungs as the pressure is released from his chest as he climbs back into bed beside you. Your head finds his chest, curled into his side and letting his arms wrap around you. His embrace is familiar, comforting, your safe space.

You count the steady beats of his heart in your ear as his blunt fingernail scrape lightly up and down your back, knowing it always soothes you. No words are spoken but the air between the two of you is thick, full of the things you both want to say, but neither of you speak.

Sleep wraps its tendrils around you once again, exhaustion settling in your bones. You welcome it fully, even though you know when you wake up, you'll have to face the reality of the situation once again.

You can only hope that he'll still be here in the morning to face it with you.

For now, you let yourself drown in the warmth of his embrace, pushing away all the other things that are gnawing at you and letting yourself relax in the arms of the man who broke your heart.

Just one more night.

Thank you for reading!! :))

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the endings

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. click here for game day (group) chapter.

⋆˙⟡ wc: member endings are ~1k each, group endings are less than 500 words each! (in total: ~5k)

⋆˙⟡ reader: no pronouns used for reader at all in any of the endings :)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ endings summary: choose your own ending! jiwoong, hao, matthew, hanbin, taerae, group (quasi-poly), and group (revenge) are all included. most are angst/fluff and some are suggestive.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: there is no smut in these endings, but they allude to smut that happened previously or suggest smut that would follow these endings. please, minors dni still with this post! member endings are all happy (with angst). revenge ending is also happy, depending on what makes you happy! lol.

I'M SO SAD IT'S OVER. writing the bully series was so much fun! thank you to the anon who suggested it in the first place a couple months ago and for everyone who has given positive feedback/input! i appreciate it so much. these endings are all crafted with so much love! let me know which one you love most. maybe i'll put a poll at the bottom lol. ily, catch you in the next series!!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

jiwoong 🎭

“so i’ll hand out these scripts and we’ll get started right away,” professor lee announces, walking around the room and handing out scripts for everyone’s assigned scenes. mina sits next to you as usual, except this week she’s staring daggers at jiwoong from across the room. you guess it beats her making googly eyes at him.

mina had called you last night to rant again about how much of a jerk “jiwoong-sshi” is. note the absence of the word “oppa”. you were sorry that he’d stood her up, but you knew what kind of a person he could be long before last week. 

and she unfortunately didn’t seem to care how much of a jerk jiwoong was when you were the one bearing the brunt of it.

but you don’t want to dwell on it. you’d just fucked him and four of his friends in the campus activities lounge and had no plans to tell her. she’d asked you how the “revenge” went, but you’d kept it all pretty vague. mina was no prude, but she might have the urge to gossip a bit with news as insane as that. you wouldn’t blame her if she did.

still, you didn’t regret what you did saturday. not even a little bit. in fact, it made you feel kind of proud every time you thought about it.

you spend all of class working on a scene with mina in which you play a really outrageous set of characters trying to escape arrest. it’s a role that you’ve never opted to take before— one that requires you to be bold, funny, and brave. 

professor lee praises you after you present it at the end of class. “excellent work. what’s gotten into you, (y/n)-sshi? whatever it is, let’s keep peeling back that shell!”

you smile with pride, eyes scanning the rest of the room until they happen to land on kim jiwoong.

he’s smiling, too.

when class ends, you pick your bag up off the floor and toss in your marked-up script. you’d normally throw it in the recycling bin, but you want to keep it this time. as a reminder of what you’re capable of when you’re sure of yourself.

mina giggles as you walk out the door together and into the hallway. “i’m surprised, but you really pulled that off!”

“i’m not.”

both of your heads whip around to find kim jiwoong leaning against the wall behind you.  

“you just needed some... encouragement,” he says with a smirk, but there’s a noticeable warmth in his eyes.

“and what exactly do you need in order to be able to show up to a commitment you made?” mina asks with a scowl. your eyes narrow at him, too.

“listen, i–... i’m really sorry, mina,” he responds sincerely. the fact that he even got her name right has you stifling a gasp— let alone the apology that prefaced it. “i shouldn’t’ve stood you up. that was mean. so i’m sorry.”

mina sucks in her cheek, looking at the ceiling as she considers his sentiment.

“but i actually have something else to apologize for, too,” he adds quickly, gaze moving back and forth between the both of you. “i... i wasn’t really interested in you in the first place. i was—... i used you. to get a reaction out of the person i’m actually interested in.”

his eyes meet yours. your lips part in shock at his sudden confession. you stare at him for a long moment, unspeaking until—

“AREYOUKIDDINGMEYOUABSOLUTEDICKOFAHUMANBEINGYOULIETOANDSTANDUPMYFRIENDANDLEAVEHERINFUCKINGTURMOILOVERYOUANDTHEN—.”

you glance over at mina, expecting to see tears running down her face but instead...

she’s grinning. from ear to ear. and not in a joker sort of way— just genuine happiness.

“i knew it,” she says, clasping her hands together in front of her face and jumping excitedly. “i KNEW it! i knew you both liked each other!”

“you—... what!?” you exclaim, eyes bugging at this bizarre turn of events. “what do you mean, ‘you knew we liked each other’!?”

“i’m also confused,” jiwoong says with a frown. “considering i didn’t really know until, like, yesterday.”

“well, i knew you were going to like each other. eventually,” she says with a nod. “you know, shy, quiet person and arrogant, attractive person trope. it’s destiny!”

“if you really thought that, then why did you wanna go out with him so bad?” you ask through furrowed brow.

“‘cause he’s hot. duh,” she says, shaking her head with a smile as if your question was very silly. “can you blame me for wanting a taste first?”

“well, if it’s just a taste we’re talking about—,” jiwoong starts to offer with a smirk.

“one more word and the only thing you’ll be tasting is—” you interject, balling your hand into a fist.

“aw, first lovers’ spat! i’ll leave you guys to it,” mina says quickly before sprinting off down the now-empty hall. 

you look down at your shoes awkwardly. “i have nothing else to say to you.”

“then, you won’t mind if i talk?” jiwoong asks, not waiting for a response to continue. “when hanbin made me start bullying you last year, i honestly didn’t want to. you were pathetic enough already without my help.”

“gee, thanks,” you reply with with a frown.

“but then i sort of started to have fun with it. the way you reacted was absolutely intoxicating. you made it all so rewarding— coming up with a new plan to drive you crazy every day,” he explains. “then last week, when we started that competition, i found a whole new way to drive you crazy. and i liked it a lot more.”

“this is the most convoluted apology i’ve ever received,” you remark with a sigh.

“after saturday, seeing you like that... you were far from pathetic. and it made me proud. i think, somewhere along the way, i just became really fond of you,” jiwoong confesses, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “and i also desperately want to buy you better clothes.”

“okay, i’m leaving now,” you announce, turning on your heel.

“what a coincidence. me too,” jiwoong says, grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours as he starts to drag you with him down the hall. “you’re hungry, right?”

you start to protest, but as you look at his handsome side profile— dark hair covering the tips of his ears— you realize you are, in fact... hungry.

“starving,” you answer. 

he stops walking to look at you, eyes widening with surprise. “yeah? what would you like to eat then?”

staring at his lips, you can’t help but lick your own. “mina’s right, y’know.”

jiwoong’s head tilts, the corner of his lip upturning slowly as he registers your expression. “is she?”

“mhm,” you answer, pressing your lips to his. he responds quickly: soft, lazy, and stupidly addictive. you can’t believe you let him get away last week without kissing you. you could give him just one chance, couldn’t you? “but what she doesn’t know...”

he attaches your lips again, free hand cupping your jaw.

“is that one taste of you...”

jiwoong inhales sharply as you gently bite his bottom lip.

“just isn’t enough.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

hao 🎻

you rush into orchestra on tuesday, already five minutes late. unfortunately, your regular bus never showed at the stop. and then your back-up bus also never showed. which means you had to walk all the way to campus when you hadn’t planned to— your violin case in tow.

rehearsal having started already, you make a beeline for your seat and frantically open your violin case. luckily you’d warmed up your instrument before you’d left your house this week and your bow is ready to play when it hits the violin strings. 

or, it would be, if you didn’t just realize you forgot your sheet music.

“oh, for fucks sake,” you mumble, looking up at the sky and begging for the sweet release of death in this tragically embarrassing moment.

a soft creaking noise draws your attention to your left, where you find hao’s music stand is suddenly angled in your direction.

he doesn’t say anything or look at you. he just keeps playing. and so you follow the first chair’s lead.

rehearsal goes surprisingly well. you’re sure you managed to correct all of your mistakes from last week after being able to put more rosin on your bow.

“third and fourth chair are falling behind the tempo,” hao replies when professor ahn asks him for notes about the performance. your eyes widen when he names a violinist other than yourself that needs correcting. “it makes it harder for first and second chair to successfully introduce and complete the next movement.”

first and second chair? hao was voluntarily grouping you together?

professor ahn seems as surprised as you. she nods, writing down her own notes in the binder on her music stand. she waves her hand, dismissing the orchestra for the day. you clean your violin, getting it ready to be put back in its case as your classmates begin to file out of the orchestra room.

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor ahn calls suddenly from the doorway. your heart drops to your stomach at the mention of your name. “you actually played quite well today. i’ll assume it’s because you had the help of the concertmaster’s annotations. don’t be late again.”

you nod quickly, bowing your head respectfully to her. “thank you, professor-nim. i’ll play even better next time.”

you’re left alone with hao as usual, both cleaning your violins with the utmost care. when you finish, you place your instrument in its case before fishing around in the side pocket and pulling out something small.

hao locks his violin case, placing it sideways at his feet. finally, he looks at you.

you hold out the cake of rosin that he’d given you last week and told you to bring to your next rehearsal. you’d be remiss to notice that even though you didn’t show him until after class, he never told professor ahn that you’d stolen it like he threatened.

hao examines the rosin, completely ruined from what you’d both done with it. there was no cleaning it and you couldn’t use it if you tried.

you expect to catch some attitude, but, to your surprise, he smiles. “guess it couldn’t be salvaged, huh?”

“guess not,” you agree with a shrug. “at least you got some use out of it.”

“mm,” he hums after a moment before reaching down and reopening his violin case delicately. his hand disappears into one of the side pockets and pulls out a fresh cake of his premium rosin.

and then he hands it to you.

you stare at it in your palm, wide-eyed. “w-what are you—”

“you’re a pretty decent violinist,” hao says matter-of-factly. “sometimes— not often— but sometimes i feel like you have the potential to be almost as good as me. but you’ll never reach it if you don’t start using higher quality products to care for your instrument.”

“oh,” you reply, brow furrowing as he locks up his violin again. “so you’ve decided to take pity on me now?”

he smirks. “something like that.”

“i guess it’s better than pure hatred,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you tuck the box of rosin into your own violin case.

“i never hated you,” hao says with a frown. you sit back up, lips parting as your eyes meet his. “i didn’t particularly like you, but i only told professor ahn about the mistakes you were making because they were careless. you always came in the next week with those same mistakes completely perfected.”

“so you were motivating me through public shame?” you clarify, one brow piqued in disbelief. 

“doing whatever it takes to improve the sound of the orchestra is what sets a great concertmaster apart from a mediocre one,” he explains, deciding to paint himself as a misunderstood martyr. 

“oh, i’m sure it was so difficult for you to step up and take one from the team,” you mock, a laugh escaping you at hao’s audacity. “do you hear what you’re saying? you’re so fucking full of yourself. who gave you the right to play god and—?”

hao leans in, connecting his lips to yours mid-rant. your breath hitches in disbelief as he pulls back.

“would you be mad if i said i wanna get to know you better?” he asks, hand resting on your thigh.

you look down at his long fingers on your soft skin. “furious,” is what you answer.

he presses his lips together in a hopeless smile. “i’ll take it that means you don’t feel the same way then.”

“you always think you know everything about everything,” you huff, grabbing his hand in yours and bringing it further up your thigh. “but you don’t. so i guess you will have to get to know me better if you wanna keep being an insufferable know-it-all.”

as soon as a smile appears on hao’s face, it’s replaced by the cutest frown. “i’m sad now.”

“why?” you ask, not sure how your answer could’ve possibly made him sad when it was the one he wanted.

“i took for granted how absolutely fucking adorable you are when you’re angry,” he whines, a disheartened little pout on his pretty lips. “kind of makes me wish i could keep making you angry from time to time.”

you blink at him, looking around awkwardly as a reluctant smile grows on your face. “i mean—... i guess i’d have to worry about my playing skills suffering if you stop completely. that wouldn’t be very responsible of concertmaster-nim.”

“no, it wouldn’t,” he replies, biting his lip in a smirk. you’re fully aware of what this title does to him. “so what should i do to keep you playing well?”

you look up at the ceiling, considering your options. “maybe you could see what other things in the music room fit up my—” “that’s depraved,” hao scolds, shaking his head at you in shock before a grin peeks through. “are you free right now?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

matthew 💪

with three weeks left of your soccer unit in phys. ed, you braced for an awkward class on wednesday. as you wait outside in the warm, spring breeze with your classmates, you waited anxiously for matthew to show up.

he doesn’t. 

coach yang blows his whistle, signaling for you to form a straight line in front of him. luckily one of your classmates asks the question for you.

“coach-nim! where’s matthew hyung?” the younger boy asks in front of you. “we wanted to talk to him about the game.”

“ah, matthew-sshi is on a strict regimen of weight-training and cardio until the championship,” coach yang answers with a sigh. a little quieter, he adds, “and maybe that’ll teach him to stay in line.”

maybe, you think. maybe not.

it’s a surprisingly pleasant p.e. class. your classmates are respectful, giving you as much grace during the game as possible. your sunbaenim from your calc class even pushes you behind him when a ball comes a bit too quickly towards your face.

“thanks,” you say with a smile.

he smiles back. “don’t mention it.”

this class sure was different when someone wasn’t trying to kill you the whole time. that being said, you’re pretty disappointed that matthew isn’t here. you can’t help but wonder how he would’ve treated you today after saturday night.

when class is over, coach yang hands you a hose, some rags and a ball trolley. he still can’t look you in the eye after what happened. “here’s your supplies. shouldn’t take you more than an hour.”

you nod ashamedly, getting to work right away.

“and a word of advice,” coach yang adds over his shoulder. “don’t be afraid to put him in his place from time to time. you played well today without him. it’s nice to see you have some more confidence, (y/n)-sshi. good luck.”

the last thing you were expecting today was a pep talk from coach yang. you walk over to the right side of the field and pick up a muddy, grass-stained ball and bring it over to the hose. washing it thoroughly and buffing any stains with a rag, you drop it into the ball trolley and make your way to the back of the field to retrieve a couple more.

you grab one from behind the goal, turning around to fetch the other one. but as you do, you come face to face with matthew— tossing the ball gently back and forth between his hands.

“hi,” he greets shyly. 

your lips press together in an awkward smile. “hi.”

he doesn’t say anything else for a moment, so you brush past him— bringing your ball back to the hose. he follows behind you quietly, placing his soccer ball on the ground beside yours. you pick up the hose and douse them both in the cold water.  matthew picks up a rag and kneels down on the ground next to you, buffing the soccer ball you’d brought over.

you pick up the one he brought over, doing the same. “that one was mine.”

his eyes widen, holding out the ball to you wordlessly in an attempt to give it back.

you can’t help but laugh. “i was just kidding.”

“right,” he replies with a nod, returning to cleaning the ball. “sorry.”

you raise one eyebrow at him quizzically. “are you okay?”

“hm?” he asks before nodding quickly. “oh, yeah. i’m fine.”

“are you sure?” you question further. “because this is my punishment and you’re helping me when you should be getting ready for practice.”

matthew shrugs. “it was my fault.”

“it absolutely was,” you agree, tossing your soccer ball into the trolley. “and you got away with it scot-free.”

suddenly, matthew’s hand reaches toward your forehead— thumb brushing over the tiny scar from where the ball he kicked had scraped your skin. “i shouldn’t have.”

well this is... new. matthew taking accountability for his actions? you never thought you’d see the day.

“i—... um...” he stutters, starting to pick at the grass in front of him. “i think i should probably be punished. for that. and for a lot of things.”

oh.

so he’d really liked it.

“oh. should i tell coach yang to—,” you play dumb, starting to stand up like you’re about to march right into his office yourself. 

“NO! ... no. no,” matthew grabs your hand, keeping you seated next to him. he bites his lip, clearly embarrassed by what he’s about to say. “want you to do it.”

“huh,” you reply with frown. “i thought you didn’t really prefer people who were tainted.”

“you aren’t tainted,” he says, shaking his head. “that—... that was really immature of me to say. and gross. and i’m... i’m sorry.”

you look at him for a long moment, studying his eyes to see if he’s being genuine or not. there’s no obvious signs of lying. he’s very nervous, but it’s not because he’s being untruthful. maybe it’s because he finally is.

“and i can also assume that you said sorry to the waterboy?” you ask, pressing your lips together in an attempt to not laugh at his panicked expression. “and that defense player on the other team? actually, you should probably just draft a mass apology and send it to every university team you’ve ever played against. it would save some time.”

matthew nods sullenly. “yeah. i can do that.”

you have to admit, you like matthew quite a bit when he’s like this. he’s agreeable, apologetic, and distressingly adorable.

“i appreciate your willingness to cooperate,” you reply, patting him on the shoulder gently. “i think... maybe... we could make this work.”

matthew’s eyes light up at this. “really? you’d wanna keep doing... this?”

you smile. “yeah. it doesn’t sound so bad, now that you’re being nice to me.”

matthew smiles with embarrassment, avoiding your gaze. “i guess i should’ve tried this approach last year. but i—... have you ever heard of alpha male podcasts?”

“matthew,” you groan, palm flying to your forehead in disbelief. “you’re gonna unsubscribe from every single one of those, okay?”

he nods frantically. “of course. they didn’t get me anything anyway, except a light ‘roid addiction.”

“do not tell anyone that, oh my god,” you reprimand, hitting his thigh. “you’re also gonna throw all of that out immediately.

“ah, it was so expensive though,” he winces, tilting his head as he weighs the consequences. “can’t i sell them instead?”

“JUST GET RID OF—,” you shout, cutting yourself off when matthew suddenly leans over and kisses your cheek.

he grins. “you’re so beautiful when you’re disappointed in me.”

“you’re—... you—...” you stutter until matthew leans in again, pressing his lips to yours this time. he pulls back, leaving your brain hazy. “please don’t be so mean to me again.”

he shakes his head decisively. “i won’t. i promise.”

you smile, stomach fluttering as he beams at you. 

“but, like... you’re okay with being mean to me sometimes, right?” matthew asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“oh, absolutely,” you answer with a nod. “i’ll start now.”

he laughs passively, obviously interpreting this as a joke. “sure, sure.”

you stand up, hovering your foot over his crotch. “finish cleaning these soccer balls. now.”

matthew’s eyes widen with fear, hopping to his feet immediately, bowing his head to you, and sprinting off to the end of the field to complete his task.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

hanbin 📝

“hanbin-ah!” you shout, running down the dimly-lit, empty hallway. how far could he have made it in the few minutes since he’d stormed out of the activities lounge without so much as a word. 

“hanbin-ah...”

a banging down the hallway to your right seems to signal his location. you turn down it, running until you reach the end and a long hall of public lockers unfolds before you. to your left is a very distraught hanbin, clanging his locker door about as he holds a small book in his hands.

the floor is littered with torn up pieces of paper, that seem to be coming from the book he’s holding.

“FUCK,” he yells, ripping out another page from the book and crumpling it up— tossing it onto the ground, where it lands at your feet.

you bend down and pick it up, carefully unfolding it and reading what’s written:

what the fuck does (y/n) see in junseo hyung-nim? i thought that poem was for me. could (y/n) really choose him over me? is he better than me? i don’t understand. what did i do wrong?

it’s a diary entry— your name, mentioned twice. the confession contained in it sends a chill down your spine. hanbin had posted your poem about junseo sunbaenim out of spite.

out of jealousy?

you pick up another crumpled paper and unfold it, reading:

i just hung up all the copies of the poem around campus. i got the other guys in on it, too. maybe this’ll teach you not to take people for granted. maybe it’ll keep you thinking about me.

hanbin throws his empty journal across the hallway, sitting down on the ground with his back against a locker as he runs a hand through his hair in distress.

you walk over to him cautiously, standing in front of him and waiting until he looks up at you. you hold out the pieces of paper from his journal and drop them on his lap. “so you decided to ruin my life because you couldn’t have me?”

hanbin reads the writing on the crumpled papers, tears suddenly spilling over and streaming down his cheeks. he wipes them away as quickly as they come. his chin dimples up with sadness. it reminds you of something...

you look in his locker, finding his messenger bag and opening the flap. you dig around gently until your hand wraps around it.

you sit down next to hanbin, back against a locker as you place the little, plush hamster in his lap. he stares at it for a long moment before finally picking it up in his hand and giving it a gentle squish. a tear falls onto the hamster’s nose.

“you found this the other day?” he says, rubbing the back of his hand across his cheeks again.

you nod. “he’s cute.”

hanbin smiles. “i was hoping you’d think that.”

“what do you mean?” you ask, a confused pout forming on your lips.

“i was hoping you’d think he was cute,” he says, running his thumb over the hamster’s fur, “when i bought it for you.”

“what?”

“on the class trip to the national library last year,” he continues. “we sat next to each other on the bus and you pulled three plushies out of your bag like it was the most normal thing ever. and you told me all their names and what they wanted to be when they grew up.”

“hanbin-ah...”

“and we took those polaroids of each other outside on the grass. and ate kimbap at the picnic table in the garden. and ran around together finding the weirdest books we could. and then, in the giftshop, they had a bunch of cute plushies themed off of children’s books and...” hanbin rambles wistfully. “and i bought this one for you while you weren’t looking.”

“hanbinnie, i’m so sorry,” you interject truthfully. you see the full picture now and you never had before. “i shouldn’t’ve been so oblivious as to make you feel like i was leading you on, but i was. and i never should’ve told you about that poem in the first place. i’m sorry.”

he blinks back at you before shaking his head adamantly. “it’s— it’s not your fault.”

“but i hurt your feelings,” you assert, meeting his gaze. “and i never wanted to do that. you were my first friend i made at university. actually, you’re the only friend i’ve made at university. how pathetic is that?”

he shakes his head again, brow furrowing sadly. “it’s not. it’s—... it’s my fucking fault that that happened. it’s... it’s all my fault.”

“hanbinnie, it’s—... it’s okay, you—,” you try to alleviate his burden, like the moral person you are.

“no, don’t do that. don’t say it’s okay, because it’s not,” hanbin asserts, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm. “i made you share something you didn’t want to. and i betrayed your trust. and i—... fucking—... all because i couldn’t handle my own emotions?”

you chew your cheek nervously. “listen, it’s okay—.”

“you’re the nicest person on the fucking planet if you can sit here and say that’s okay,” he says, a sad laugh escaping him. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness, but... i don’t know if i’ll ever be able to fully express to you how sorry i am.”

you don’t respond, stunned by hanbin’s genuine apology. 

“i could try, though, if you want me to,” he blathers on anxiously. “i could write a hundred thousand words worth of apologies and you could rip them all up and make me start again and—.”

“he looks like you,” you interject suddenly.

he frowns. “hm?”

“the hamster,” you clarify, holding out your hand. eyes wide, hanbin places the hamster in your palm. “he looks a lot like you.”

hanbin doesn’t say anything, his eyes trained on the side of your face as you squish the little plush. 

“it’s funny, actually,” you hold the hamster up for him to see. “looking at this hamster and trying to be mad at him is a lot like how it feels when i look at you.”

eyes still wide, hanbin’s bottom lip finds its way between his teeth— not sure how to answer to your overwhelming mercy.

“you’re right. that wasn’t okay,” you say as you bring the hamster to your lips, giggling after you give him a little peck. “but this is okay.”

“this?” he repeats.

“doesn’t this feel pretty nice?” you pose, eyes locking with his. “us getting along?”

hanbin nods slowly. “yeah. it does.”

“what do you say we continue this?” you ask with a smile. “indefinitely.”

“i—...” he stutters as a smile grows on his lips as well. “i’d really like that.”

“me too,” you agree, eyes abruptly narrowing. “but it’ll cost you.”

his brow raises, swallowing hard at your words. “absolutely. anything. name your price.”

you hold up the hamster to the side of your face, doing your best to mimic his little expression. “i want him.”

if hanbin’s eyes could turn to cartoon love hearts, they would. but because he’s a human person, his pupils simply dilate. “you—... i—... he’s yours. he was always yours.”

you grin, giving the hamster a hug. “thanks.”

“thank you,” he says, still reeling from your cuteness. “i’ll miss him, but he’s where he belongs now.”

“maybe you can visit him sometimes,” you offer, biting your lip shyly. “you’re clearly his biological father, after all. i’m sure your presence in his life is nothing less than enriching.”

he laughs. “some father i am. i didn’t even manage to give him a name.”

you smile. “he has a name.”

hanbin tilts his head curiously. “he does?”

you nod. “his name is binnie. jr.”

his cheeks turn red at this suggestion. “really? you want to name him after me?”

you don’t answer. instead, you ask softly, “hanbinnie?”

“yeah?” he replies eagerly.

“do you...” you start, finding the confidence to finish your question. “do you still like me?”

hanbin’s breath hitches in his throat. “um...”

“it’s okay if you don’t,” you assure with a sigh. “i just... a year ago, i didn’t even know someone like you would be interested in me. you’re so handsome. and smart. and the soccer team’s star player. i never even considered the possibility that you felt that way about me. but now, i—... i have more confidence. maybe you accidentally gave it to me, but i have it nonetheless.”

he looks at you intently, waiting for you to continue.

“and i think i realized that... i want you to like me,” you confess. “i wanted you to like me the whole time. i just didn’t want to admit it because i was afraid it was too much to ask for. and i—.”

“(y/n),” hanbin interjects with the fondest smile imaginable. “i like you so much i think my chest might explode.”

you can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. neither can he. hanbin brings his hand to cup your jaw, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

“oh and i’m sorry i fucked all your friends right in front of your face,” you say, pulling back momentarily.

hanbin laughs, shrugging it off. “i totally deserved it. and... it was pretty hot.”

“keep kissing me,” you request with a smile.

“don’t have to tell me twice.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

taerae 🎤

after a completely bizarre session of portraits and quotes for the campus newspaper, the boys all awkwardly grab their things and head out the door. as you place your clipboard and pen on the activities director’s desk, you see a familiar backpack shoved behind a chair. you forgot you’d stashed taerae’s bag and phone in here when he didn’t come back for it on friday.

you walk over to it, picking it up off of the floor and slinging it over your shoulder. you shut off the lights, walking down the hallway until you spot your former best friend— sitting alone on the entrance steps to kang hall in the spring night air.

you plop yourself down next to him, placing his bag on the step in front of him. he turns to you, eyes red and watery.

“oh, tae,” you whisper, head falling instinctively to his shoulder. 

“why’re you comforting me?” he asks with a sniffle. “you should be punching me in the face or something.”

“would you prefer it?” you joke, trying to get him to smile. “because i can absolutely just—.”

“this is good,” he says with a breathy laugh.

“good,” you affirm, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “i love you.”

“(y/n),” taerae seems to plead. “i can’t—.”

“i love you,” you repeat. “and i miss you so much.”

“i—...” he stumbles verbally, but grabs your hand in his. “i—.”

“when did you lose your virginity?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. 

he gulps. “uh... a couple years ago.”

“and you didn’t tell me?” you question, a little hurt that he’d kept this big news a secret from you even when you were still friends. “to who?”

taerae shakes his head anxiously. “it’s not that important.”

“oh, come on,” you urge, squeezing his hand. “i told you i lost mine to sungchan oppa during that pool party at mina’s dad’s house.”

he flinches at this. “i remember.”

“it was that same pool party where you threw up in the pool,” you say with a smirk. “an eventful night for both of us.”

“mhm,” taerae mumbles shortly. he was definitely growing more bothered with each mention of that party.

“and to think, a couple of years later we’d do what we just did,” you muse in an attempt to dig something more out of him. “we’ve come so far from you throwing up in the pool at the thought of kissing me.”

“i never said that!” taerae exclaims with frustration. “you said that. and i just... went with it.”

you shake your head, brow furrowing confusedly. “then why did you throw up?”

“because—... because i was nervous,” he says softly. “i was so nervous to kiss you that i threw up in mina’s dad’s pool and then i was so embarrassed that i couldn’t even open my mouth to deny that i was disgusted by the thought of kissing you.”

you blink at him in shock. “did—... did you have feelings for me?”

after a long moment, he nods. but there’s more tension lingering under the surface. you know there’s more that needs to be said.

“i really liked you,” taerae confesses softly. “i never wanted to weird you out or anything, but i just liked you from the first day i met you. i loved being your friend, but i just couldn’t help it. when you told me at that party that you’d hooked up with sungchan hyung... i just got so jealous. i thought i could be cool about it, but i was drunk and...”

your eyes are wide, clinging onto his every word.

“and i hooked up with someone, too,” he admits with a pained expression. “i thought it might be the only way to make you jealous back, so i—... i—...”

you hold your breath.

“i hooked up with mina!” he exclaims quickly, looking down at his lap in shame.

“YOU WHAT!?” you scream, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look you in the eyes. “that’s not fucking funny!”

“i know it’s not,” he replies despairingly. “i regretted it instantly afterwards. no— while it was happening. i was so disgusted with myself. i hated lying to you, but i just couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. i thought i wouldn’t have to until last year, when hanbin hyung came up to me in the hallway after class.”

your brow furrows at the mention of hanbin’s name.

“he said he knew what i’d done with mina. apparently he had a few friends that went to the party,” he explains sadly. “and that if i didn’t do exactly what he told me to, that he’d tell you what i did and he’d make things even worse for you. i just couldn’t let either of those things happen.”

“how—... how did you even manage to bag mina?” you ask in a daze.

“well, i mean,” taerae grimaces. “it’s mina.”

“she’s a total slut,” you nod, catching on immediately. “more power to her.”

“the most power to her,” taerae agrees quickly. 

“why didn’t she tell me?” you wonder.

“oh, that one’s easy,” taerae answers with a shrug. “she said she’d rather die than let anyone know we slept together.”

“that sounds like mina,” you affirm. so the truth was out. it’s hard to wrap your head around everything all at once, but you were definitely relieved that taerae didn’t actually hate you. he was just an idiot.

“i’m so sorry, (y/n),” he apologizes genuinely. “for everything.”

you sigh heavily. “i’m sorry, too.”

taerae’s eyes widen in surprise. “what do you mean? you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“i’m sorry i bragged to you about losing my virginity. i could’ve been more sensitive with that information,” you reply. “and i’m sorry that i said you threw up in the pool, because you didn’t want to kiss me and never asked you what the truth was. i could’ve been more considerate of my best friend.”

“i love you,” taerae says abruptly. “being without you this year was literally the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you nod in affirmation. “let’s never do it again.”

“never,” he agrees with a wide, dimpled grin. that smile you missed so much. you watch it fade naturally, replaced by a fond gaze. but you desperately want to see it again.

so you do the only thing that you can.

you kiss him.

he pulls back after a moment, that perfect grin shining back at you. it’s enough to light up the night sky. 

“i know i was using the past tense before, but,” taerae says, biting his lip. “i still really like you.”

you smile, pulling him back in to meet your lips again. “prove it.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

group (poly) 🥵

you look around the room, every boy avoiding eye contact with you in an attempt to quell the awkward tension. it feels amazing. exactly how you were hoping it would.

"so, uh," jiwoong starts, scratching the back of his neck. "are we gonna do those interviews now?"

you shrug. "you can just text me a quote, if you want. probably easier actually."

they all agree nonverbally, the uncomfortable haze still lingering in the air.

"you can also text me about when you'll be free again," you add, the boys heads turning rapidly to look at you.

"uh... which one of us?" matthew asks with a frown.

you shrug. “whoever’s down.”

“you—… you wanna do this again?” hao asks, lips parted in shock.

“why not?” you answer honestly. “i had fun. but if you’re not into it, that’s okay too.”

“i’m into it!” hao replies a bit too quickly. “i just meant that… i didn’t know you would be.”

“i guess before last week, someone would’ve had a hard time convincing me that i’d wanna do this once— let alone twice,” you admit with a smile. “but i think i’ve proved i changed.”

“and you’re okay with… changing?” taerae asks, worry in his eyes.

you nod definitively. “yeah. i am.”

“so, after all this, you’ve decided you just wanna fuck all of us whenever you want?” hanbin asks, standing up from the desk he’s sitting on and walking over to you. “you really think you’re hot enough for that?”

you smile at him. “no one’s forcing you to participate.”

hanbin frowns, studying you as you hold eye contact.

“don’t be too upset, hanbinnie,” you say with a pout. “you’re the one who wanted me to fuck your friends in the first place. you just forgot to consider i might end up really liking it.”

he stares at you for another long moment. and then, he smiles. “i guess you’ve won your own game then?”

you smile back. “i guess i have.”

“then i have to pay the price, fair and square. we all do,” hanbin nods with respect— an undeniable warmth in his gaze. “congratulations.”

you look at the other boys around you— excitement reaching their eyes as you grin. were they really all yours now?

“thanks,” you say happily. “i couldn’t have done it without you.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

group (revenge) 😈

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

you look around the room, every boy avoiding eye contact with you in an attempt to quell the awkward tension. it feels amazing. exactly how you were hoping it would.

"hey, is that camera on?" jiwoong suddenly asks, pointing at the camera you set up by the photo wall to take portraits for the campus activities interviews.

at least, that's why you told them you set it up.

"there's a little red flashing light," hao observes with a frown. "to the left of the lens."

"did—... did you record this?" matthew asks, fear palpable in his eyes as he looks at you.

you hop off the desk you're sitting on, grabbing your shorts and shimmying them on. walking over to the camera, you hit the record button again to stop filming. then you, take the camera off it's tripod and throw it in your bag that's sitting on the ground beside it.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you boys," you say, making your way towards the door.

hanbin stands up, grabbing your shoulder. "what are you gonna do with that?"

you shrug. "nothing."

his brow furrows tensely, not sure whether to relax or not.

"yet," you finish.

"(y/n), please," taerae begs from behind you. "please don't post that."

"i'm not gonna post it," you say, rolling your eyes. "i'm in the video, too, remember?"

the boys look around at each other, not sure what to do.

"but if i have to," you threaten, unlocking the door, "i won't hesitate. could anything be worse than what you've already put me through?"

"wait, (y/n)!" jiwoong calls. "we're—... we're sorry. we're all really sorry for everything."

"i'm sure you are," you reply, opening the door and exiting the activities lounge...

"i'm sure you'll stay sorry for a long time, too."

[edgeray]

oh yes i meant when the reader is pregnant if u can, not in a nsfw way im sorry i made it unclear😭

Dragon Hunter Mother Part 4

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N -Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  It is once again dragon time, guys. I've written three dragon-related things straight 😩. The part you guys have been waiting for. Actual romance, hell yeah. Extra fluff for that one annoying moot (you know who you are 😡). It’s a bit short compared to the other parts for this series, but probably because there's no new lore dump. Guys, I’ve thought so far into this au, please feel free to ask questions about this AU outside of requests. I am dying to talk about random bits of lore I made up (such as Arle's backstory that I won't be able to write). Also this isn't the end. Because there is going to be a Part 5. What the fuck, guys /j.  Hi anons!! Yes, you can be 🦊 anon and 👅anon. I'm sorry for how late this was first anon, I know I kept you for a while 😭. Also I'm sorrry for not being able to fulfil parts of your request because a) jealous arle wouldn't make sense given the worldbuilding, and b) i don't write nsfw of any kind. Sorry. I'm not going to include how exactly you're pregnant because it makes me uncomfortable writing it, so I'll just leave it up to your interpretation.  Please don't let these discourage you from requesting from me :). I always try my best to satisfy every request as long as it's reasonable and within my rules.  Content warnings / info - no warnings :), 1.8k words

Recovering from the infected wound didn't take long–in fact, it only took a week to be fully healthy, and the wound was healing nicely. Arlecchino was able to take care of everything while you were bedridden. You were surprised by how diligent and aware she seemed to be of taking care of you, especially as a dragon, but you didn't question it. She has had several decades of experience before you, you wouldn't be surprised if she picked up on a few things about humans. 

It's been about four months since the dragon hunters incident, and you have yet had another situation like that. Venturing into the town you had previously been going to was no longer safe, and so you began frequenting another bordering village. It was a bit further away, but because it turned out to be a port town, it ended up providing you with a lot more food and resources you previously couldn't access; including: fresh fish, more meat and produce, and more clothes and fabric. 

The trio have grown big enough to which you ride on top of one of them with no difficulty. They not only increased in size, but also their affection for you, crawling into your lap or climbing your back, or simply pouncing on any limb and holding onto you tightly. The same could be said for you, you no longer saw them as children, but your children. Arlecchino tells you that they refer to you as ‘Mother’ often.

Speaking of Arlecchino, she is no longer the standoffish dragon she was before the dragon hunters incident. On certain days, she can be just as clingy, if not more, than the children, although she would vehemently deny it with a scoff if you are to ever bring it up. Over time, she was less dragon, and more human to you, and with that, your attraction towards her continued to blossom. Your current relationship status with her is still strange, neither of you had ever labeled it on human standards, nor have the two of you ever ‘courted’ one another–in human or in draconic methods. Still, neither the two of you could miss the glances or the way you hold each other. 

Lately, the past few weeks, she has been acting strange. She's been exiting the cave more often alone, leaving you with her children to tend to, not that you mind. She returns hours later, usually with some type of wild animal she caught for you: deer, the occasional bear or moose, sometimes even pigs. You often stand at the entrance of the cave, dumbfounded as she drags the dead creature by her teeth in her dragon form, while the hatchlings salivate. If it's not wild animals, it's usually an arrangement of different colored stones she found along the shores or in the river. You appreciate them, but you're no less puzzled by the intention with each gift. 

You tried to wrack your brain of why she would be behaving like this, but you can’t come up with anything. It also seemed like with every gift you received, she became more and more… saddened? You weren't entirely sure for the reason, but you don't want to offend her by questioning her more. As the weeks pass by, and she disappears more and more, it seems like Arlecchino is… moping. 

You have asked the children multiple times, but all they do is give you a pointed look before jerking their head towards their Father and letting out a rumble. When you approach Arlecchino, asking what was troubling her, all she does is shake her head, her subtle pout ever so slightly intensifying. Finally, having enough of Arlecchino staring blankly at her hands for hours straight, you finally come up to her, taking her clawed hands in yours and gaze into her eyes. 

“Arlecchino. Tell me what's wrong,” you demand gently but firmly, kissing her knuckles.

The dragon stays silent, turning away from you, making your eye twitch. 

“Please…” You plead. 

Arlecchino seems hesitant to answer, opening her mouth before closing it several times. She contemplates something deeply, then lets out a steady exhale. 

“I've been… making courting attempts towards you,” she quietly admits, her cheeks flushing the slightest amount. “But… it seems like you're unreceptive to it because you're human.” 

Courting attempts? As if she was trying to establish a romantic relationship with you? No, it’s not courting as in ‘human courting.’ If it has to do with dragons, then perhaps it means–

“You… you want me as your mate?” You whisper out loud, your face undeniably warm at the realization, and your lips quirk up to the faintest smile. 

The dragon nods timidly, so unbefitting for a strong beast like herself. She peers at you intently, searching and analyzing every twitch of your face to come up with her own answer. You let out a huff, raising your arms to cup the sides of her face in your palms. The cold texture of her skin will never be an unwelcome sensation. 

“You could have told me instead of pouting like one of our children,” you chuckle, stepping closer to lean your forehead against her chest, feeling her thumping heart through it. 

“I didn't know if you wanted to be since… you never responded to my attempts. I know that it's silly seeing that you're human, but I felt more and more discouraged…” Her voice is low and vulnerable, and it makes you want to do nothing more but hold her in your arms forever.  

“You really still have so many things to learn about humans,” you giggle, pressing your lips against her nose. Fingers card through Arlecchino's silky locks, and you hum contently.

 “What do you mean?” 

You grin knowingly. “We like more direct expressions of our desires.” 

You stand on your tiptoes before leaning in, warm lips gracing cold ones as you pull her towards you. Your arms lock around her neck, keeping the two of you against each other. Quickly, Arlecchino responds, pressing her mouth against yours fervently while her fangs prick your bottom lip. You groan into the kiss, and squeak when her hands slide down to your behind, lifting you up from your feet and wrapping your legs around her waist. 

The two of you pull away, and there's almost a feral look in her eyes. 

“There's somewhere I have to take you to,” she growls in your ear, and you can't deny that it makes your stomach coil, your loins burning.  

“Okay…” You murmur, holding onto her tightly. She carries you with ease, walking out of the cave and following along the edge of the mountain's base. It takes only about ten minutes until you spot a small opening, another cavern. Arlecchino takes you inside, and your eyes widen at the sight.

It's a nest, a careful structure supported by stones as the foundation with the sides from branches and sliced tree trunks, before the top is covered in an assortment of blankets and pillows. However, it's smaller and cozier than the nest at home–as if it's made for humans. You carefully step into it, sitting down and finding it pleasantly comfortable. 

“Arlecchino…” you gasp out with whispered awe. 

“Yes…?” 

“Where did you get the money for this?” You question, holding a heap of the numerous silk blankets in your arms, giving her a pointed look knowing damn well it wasn't your money. 

The dragon brings a claw to her face and scratches nervously. “I had Lyney search the bodies of the dragon hunters for anything of value. They had quite a hefty sum,” Arlecchino confesses. 

You sigh in relief, glad that no weaver or innocent person was harmed in getting this. “It's lovely. Is this what you've been leaving the cave for for so long?” 

Arlecchino nods, her voice bashful. “It's… it's a mating nest, so that if it were to happen the children would not be there. I wanted to ask you here…” 

The dragon walks inside the nest, before kneeling down before you, her clawed hands gingerly finding yours and holding them in her large palms. “Would you like to be my mate?” 

“I thought my answer was obvious. Of course,” you answer, smiling. “But isn't mating season in another two months?” 

She nods in response. “I wanted to prepare as early as possible. I wanted everything to be perfect.” ‘For you,’ she leaves out, but you know it's what she implies.

“It is perfect. Thank you… though I feel bad,” you murmur, your own face flustered by your embarrassment. “It took me this long to realize. I guess… I should make it up to you by courting you back, right?” 

Arlecchino flushes, her face visibly reddening. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you've courted me with how dragons usually do it. I will do the same, but with humans. Does that sound alright?” You offer, giving her the largest grin. 

Arlecchino's face softens, leaning down and pressing her forehead against you. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds alright,” she murmurs against your lips. 

—

Three months have passed by since then. 

Safe to say, you’re pregnant. 

Arlecchino’s attentiveness towards you had always been impressive, but it borders on extreme with how much she pampers you. Before the mating season, you've taught her all you can about human civilization and socialization so that in the instance you won't be able to travel to town yourself, she can instead. While you always have saved up a lot of money from your time as a dragon hunter, she likes to spend it on you unreservedly. 

It would be endearing if it weren't the excessive amount of blankets in the nest, as if you weren't warm enough. Not to mention the amount of books she's gotten you. Since she doesn't exactly know how to navigate a bookstore, or how to differentiate between different genres of books, she’s gotten you dictionaries, children's book, erotica even. She was blissfully unaware why you read a page for a few seconds, shut the book immediately, took a deep breath before reopening the book, only to reshut it as well, repeating the same process. You didn't want her to get any… ideas. 

Currently, Arlecchino was in her dragon form, nestled around you   protectively from any gusts of wind that may pass through the cave entrance, her tail thumping against the floor softly. Her head rests besides you, her throat rumbling gratifyingly as you run your hand over her snout. 

The trio are currently fighting over some of the beef jerky you mistakenly bought for them, unaware of the chaos it would ensue in the cave. They seem to forget that you can return to the town to buy them more… Ah well, hatchlings will be hatchlings. 

You wonder how much more lively the cave will be with another one. 

[michaelsfavgirl]

crestfallen

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: After Michael cheats on you with Diana Ross you cross paths again at the Grammy's.

Tags: angst, infidelity, hurt no comfort.

Word Count: 2k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: this is my first time writing angst so be nice pls

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You step onto the Grammy's red carpet, and instantly, the paparazzi swarm like bees to honey. Their voices blend into a cacophony of shouts, yells, and screams, all clamoring for your attention. "Over here! Look this way! Smile for us!" they cry, their cameras flashing relentlessly, each burst of light illuminating the chaos around you. The flashes are blinding, but you've long grown accustomed to the relentless barrage of attention. You've been in this spotlight for years, and it's become a part of your reality.

Every step you take is deliberate, graceful, as if you're gliding across the red carpet with the effortless elegance of a swan. The eyes of the world are upon you, and you know they're scrutinizing your every move, every detail of your appearance. But you don't falter. You maintain your composure, your facade of perfection.

Yet beneath the surface, turmoil and heartbreak churns within you, a storm raging in the depths of your soul. It's a feeling you've grown all too familiar with, a constant companion in the midst of fame and adulation. The memory of betrayal lingers like a shadow.

The world sees only the polished exterior, the flawless face of success and glamour. But they don't know the pain that lies beneath, the wound that refuses to heal, the shattered love and broken promises.

The memory of him lingers like a bittersweet melody, haunting your thoughts even as you walk the red carpet. Michael was your everything, the center of your world, until he wasn't. 

–

You sit on the edge of the bed, the soft sheets beneath you offering little comfort as your heart aches with betrayal. Michael kneels before you, his grip on your knees tight, as if he fears you'll vanish into thin air if he lets go. His eyes, usually so warm and full of love, are now red and swollen with tears, mirroring the pain in your own.

Tears blur your vision, despite your best efforts to hold them back. You never thought you'd find yourself in this position, confronted with the harsh reality of infidelity in your own home, in your own bed. It's a betrayal that cuts to the core, leaving you feeling hollow and broken.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Michael whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I-I never meant to hurt you, I swear." Apologies fall from his lips in a desperate stream, each word laden with remorse and regret. But you can't bring yourself to listen, can't bear to hear his excuses and justifications. You thought he was better than this, thought he was a good man. But now, all you see is the shattered remains of the man you once loved.

Finally finding your voice, you cut him off with a quiet, trembling whisper. "How long?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. The silence that follows is deafening, heavy with shame and guilt. Michael hangs his head low, unable to meet your gaze, and your heart clenches with the realization that this betrayal has been going on for much longer than you anticipated.

"Speak up," you demand, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. Michael mutters something almost inaudible, and you lean in closer, your heart pounding in your chest. "Four months," he finally admits, and the weight of his words crushes you like a ton of bricks.

You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you. You swallow hard, pushing back the tears threatening to spill over. And then, with a strength you didn't know you possessed, you meet his gaze, your eyes cold and distant.

"You don't love me," you say softly, the words heavy with resignation. It's not a question, but a statement of fact, a bitter truth that you can no longer deny.

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself against the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Four months. Four months of lies and deceit, all hidden behind a facade of love and devotion.

Michael shakes his head and reaches out to you, his hand trembling as he tries to wipe away your tears. "No, no, that's not true baby i-," he insists, but you pull away, unable to bear the touch of his hand against your skin.

You glare at him, anger burning hot in your chest as he tries to defend himself, but you cut him off with a sharp raise of your voice. "If you loved me, if you respected me, you would have never done such a thing," you say, your words laced with bitterness and hurt. He swallows hard, his eyes dropping to the floor as he takes in the full extent of the pain he's caused you.

A heavy silence hangs between you, broken only by the sound of your ragged breathing. You watch as he struggles to find the right words, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. But you know there's nothing he can say to make this right, nothing he can do to erase the betrayal that now stains your relationship.

With a trembling voice, you speak again, your words barely above a whisper. "I always knew," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "I always knew that you loved her more than you could ever love me." His silence is deafening, confirming the painful truth that has been gnawing at your heart for far too long.

Tears blur your vision as you continue, your voice shaking with anger and sadness. "But I never expected you to be such a coward," you say, each word a dagger aimed straight at his heart. "To go behind my back and fuck her like some pathetic mutt." He stays silent, knowing better than to argue with you. 

You roughly push his hands away from your knees, the contact suddenly feeling suffocating and unbearable. Without another word, you stand up, your legs shaking beneath you as you take a step back. "Don't ever contact me again," you say, your voice cold and final.

–

“Hey, are you alright?.” You sit in the crowded room, surrounded by the glitz and glamour of the ceremony. Your manager, seated beside you, leans in and asks. 

“Yeah, yeah..I’m fine.” You nod, offering a small, strained smile as you try to push aside the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. The truth is, you're anything but alright. But you can't let anyone see that, not here, not now.

Your thoughts drift as the ceremony progresses, the familiar rhythm of the event lulling you into a state of detachment. But then, a name is announced, and your breath catches in your throat. Michael. He's won an award for "We Are the World" As you watch him take the stage, a pang of nostalgia washes over you, mingled with a hint of bitterness.

His smile, the same smile he used to give you, sends a shiver down your spine. You quickly avert your gaze, not wanting anyone to notice the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm you. Your eyes wander, landing on Diana. You can't help but feel a surge of resentment toward her.

But you push those thoughts aside, unwilling to let them sour your mood any further. Instead, you turn your attention back to Michael, just in time to catch his gaze. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes lock with his, his big, beautiful brown eyes, and for a moment, it's as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you.

He stumbles over his words, drawing a chuckle from the audience. They think it's nerves, but you know the truth. He's stumbled because he's seen you, because he's still affected by you after all this time. Shamelessly, he keeps his eyes locked on yours throughout his speech, and you can't help but feel a flutter of something deep within you. Though not enough to mirror his.

As he finishes his speech, his eyes still locked on yours, his words send a jolt of electricity through your veins. "And lastly I want to thank the one I love most," he says, his gaze unwavering as he looks directly at you. The audience assumes he's talking about Diana, but you know better. You scoff inwardly, knowing that his words are meant for you and you alone. 

You make your way through the throngs of people. The ceremony is over, but the weight of what just transpired hangs heavy on your shoulders. As you approach your waiting limo, you can sense someone running after you. Your heartbeat quickens, but you refuse to slow down or halt your steps. Then, you hear his voice calling out to you.

“Wait! Please, slow down.”

Despite your best efforts to ignore him, he manages to catch up to you, gently grabbing your arm. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, his skin so soft and familiar. But you push aside those thoughts, refusing to let them overpower you.

With a quick motion, you take your arm out of his grasp, treating him as if he's a stranger to you. The hurt is evident in his eyes as he opens his mouth a few times, struggling to find the right words.

Finally, he sighs and simply says, "I'm sorry." His voice is soft, almost pleading, but you remain silent, blankly staring at him. 

He continues after the awkward silence, admitting that you were right, that he was pathetic for what he did. "I wasn't in love with Diana," he confesses. "I was in love with the idea of her in my mind. But I've realized now that I've only ever loved one person so deeply, and that's you."

His words hang in the air, heavy with emotion. He pours out his heart, apologizing profusely, again and again, his breath picking up, tears threatening to spill over his eyes. His hands tremble, itching to touch you again, to hold you close. You can tell he's being genuine, but your face remains emotionless, betraying nothing.

After he's done with his monologue, you take a deep breath and nod, giving him a small glimmer of hope. But then, you shatter it with your next words. "okay…I don't forgive you," you state calmly, firmly. 

He tries to argue, to plead his case, but you shut him down with a simple, "I hear you, but I still don't forgive you."

You look him up and down one last time, taking in every detail. "I wish you all the best," you say quietly, before turning and walking away, leaving him more broken than he was before.

There's a moment of silence as he processes your words, his expression crestfallen. 

His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his heart pounding against his ribs as if it might stop any second. His hand trembles as he presses it against his chest, trying to calm the frantic beat. But the realization that you're driving away, that you're never coming back, settles in like a heavy weight on his chest.

He backs himself against a nearby wall, his knees unable to support him any longer. He slides down, his back hitting the cold surface, his legs sprawled out in front of him. The tears he's been holding back finally break free, tracing a salty path down his cheeks. It feels like his whole world is collapsing around him, the only person who's truly cared for him now gone because of his own stupidity.

His face feels hot with embarrassment and shame. His clothes suddenly feel too tight, constricting his every movement. The street lights overhead seem blindingly bright, casting harsh shadows on the pavement below. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming sensory input.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can't escape the suffocating feeling of loss that grips him. It's like a vice around his chest, squeezing tighter with each passing second. He feels like he can't breathe, like the air around him is too thick to inhale. All he can do is sit there, consumed by his own despair, wishing he could turn back time and make things right. But he knows it's too late for that now. You're gone, and he's left alone to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @anivkye @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson

[shelbgrey]

Hello, I just got into Grey's Anatomy and found your blog, and I love the stories you write!

I was wondering if you could write a small story about Doctor Bailey calming down a new intern (because she is my biggest comfort character). If possible, could the story end with a hug?

Thank you!

“your my favorite” (Miranda Bailey)

Greys MasterList

The woman that was once called the nazi show unexpected tenderness one faithful day.

Dr. L/n was assigned to the resident called the Nazi, dude to the name she was terrified to screw things up in the residents presents.

When she met the 'Nazi' she was surprised to she a short woman. Her name was Dr. Bailey and she held a scowl the said she ment business.

She told them not to suck up because she already hated them. Y/n looked down at that and hid behind Alex Karev.

Through out the month Dr. Y/n did her best to show she deserved to be there but everyone seemed to walk all over her... Dr. Bailey took notice to this quickly.

Dr. Bailey soon grew a soft spot for Dr. L/n as she reminded Bailey of herself when she was an intern.

Dr. Bailey reminded stern but also had her back. She knew Dr. L/n was there to learn, but she could help but feel her heart break everytime she saw how anxious the intern got.

One day it was particularly hard. L/n had been picked by Dr. Bailey herself to scrub in on a kidney surgery. It was her first surgery and I couldn't have gotten any worse.

Tears ran down the interns face as she heard the heart monitor flat line.

“call it Dr. L/n” Dr. Webber said.

She shook her head and didn't dare look anywhere but the floor. Dr. Bailey sighed softly. “time of death, 20:14”

After that Dr. L/n rushed out of the OR and quickly cleaned up before anyone could catch her.

“That was unprofessional, I understand she's learning but-” before Dr. Webber could continue Bailey snapped.

“she's doing her best!” she pointed at Webber with anger. “ever since she's got here she's done nothing but put 110% into her work. She works hard dispite being step on and mocked... You will not speak to or about my intern like that”

“Yes ma'am” he mumbled right before she's stormed out of the OR starting her hunt for the intern.

After about 10 minutes she found Dr. L/n curled up in ball in an empty examination room. She looked up at Bailey but quietly looked down at the scrub cap she was holding. “I'm sorry” she said tearing up again.

Bailey gave her a sympathetic looked and quickly rushed to her side. “it happens... Even though we try our best for a patients they just don't make it”

The intern's tears fell hard as Bailey pulled her into her arms. “it's my fault... It was a simple surgery”

She shushed her and hugged her tighter. “it's not your fault, you did everything you could”

“don't let this cloud your strive to help people... Your gifted and you'll make an amazing doctor” Bailey told her.

“why are you being so nice? My first day you said you hated me and the other interns.” she asked Bailey.

She's playfully scoffed. “well I do... Hate the other surgery hungry heathens” she stopped for a moment and smiled. “don't tell anyone, but your my favorite”

Bailey smiled big and pulled the intern in for one more bear hug.

[narcissarina]

Distanceજ⁀➴

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍.

“Leon?” chat sent.

No messages, it was just delivered. Maybe he's busy.

—Chat sent a minute ago—

“Hey, love. It's me again, I wrote you a letter today and I plan on piling them up so when we finally closed the distance, I could give them to you!” chat sent.

Still no replies, your messages were on delivered but you are positive that he's in a mission. He did tell you beforehand, yet you insist on spamming his dm because it gives you comfort.

Looking back, still no reply. A mission does take a week or a month to finish but you couldn't help but worry and feel a little insecure without his assurance.

You were going to send him another message, “Hey Leon...” your finger froze and continue, “I miss you already, text me back okay?”

Chat sent

—Chat sent an hour ago—

Going hom to an empty house, to an empty phone and empty inbox—no response. It made you overthink, insecure and feel a painful ache in your chest, but writing your feelings down and saying your day to his dm does help, right?

“It's me again, everything just hurts, my love:(” chat sent

“Hey baby! I wrote 5 pages of letter for you, will pack a box for the things I write for you♡”

“Had a rough day from work, wish you were here nor we could call. I miss you so fucking much...”

“I wanna recall many memories with you, Leon. And yet, I couldn't recall the last time we kissed:(”

“baby, are you still there?”

“I miss you, sorry if I'm annoying.”

—Chats were sent 3 days ago—

Coming home from work as usual, leaving you extra tired, depressed and sad. Eyes were puffy from all the crying last night, still no messages from him. Must be hard for two souls bound to be in love with a distance between them.

“Baby, my heart aches, but I want you to know that I'm still longing for you, please be safe.” chat sent

You lump down on your bed, hot liquids starts to form at the back of your eyes as you cry out again. It was a tiring long day and Leon would be the first one hearing your whines and complains you tell about.

But you can't.

And you fell asleep, face down to your pillow and the plush (that looks like him) that he got for you on your side, as you suddenly awoke from your sleep. Phone vibrating as you choke a sob out, throat dry and eyes puffy.

You check your notifications, it was Leon.

Holding back your cries as you read his messages.

“Hey, princess. Sorry for responding so late. I appreciate you spamming my inbox, it made my day to see you speak about your day:)”

“don't worry about it, sweetheart. I'm here now, now what kind of stories will you be sharing hm?”

“I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you okay? I miss you too, baby. So fucking much that I'll lose my mind”

“my baby's very pretty and mine only, don't want your pretty little head be filled with those thoughts. I'm here and you can talk it out with me, what your feeling right now is completely valid:) I love you.”

“You're not annoying. I love you.”

Crying to his messages, no matter how late he is—you are glad that he is well and still the same man you fallen in love with, you read his text as he constantly assures you and replies to every messages you sent to him. Small things matter.

One message did caught you off guard, it was just sent two seconds ago: “open your door, baby. I'm here.”

You didn't believe that, he must be tired from being an agent but you try to humor him and went to your door—although you do feel a bit nervous, when was the last time you two saw each other? Six years ago, that's for sure.

Your door slowly creaks as you open it, eyes wide open and tears spilled out from your eyes as he was standing before you—bouquet of flowers in hand with your favorite chocolate and a big teddy bear beside him, “suprise, happy anniversary.” he spoke in a tired tone and lean down to kiss you and give you his gifts.

You cried, being a sobbing mess you were already are—you place his gifts nearby and jump into his arms, feeling his warmth and skin to yours.

He got inside your apartment, it was a mess and Leon lie down in your bed and you on top of him, refusing to let go. “My baby koala.” He chuckles and kisses your temple, you kept muttering your i love yous to him and spilling tears to his shirt.

“You can stop crying now.” he mutter, sitting up with you in his hand as he felt you clench your hands to his shirt—refusing to let go, you shake your head in response as you stick yourself like a glue to him.

He chuckles and let you have your way, staying like that for a few hours as he finally spoke, “I have a proposal.” he pauses, watching you twitch as your reaction, you hum to him and nuzzle closer.

“Let's live together from now on.”

[qtboni]

Hello again boni! its me, again, bc i adored your writing on my last req! i have another if that okay!

how would ghost (or maybe konig too, bc i luv him aswell) act if you told him you were pregnant? like this is early relationship, maybe a month or two into dating, only had sex about 4 times, and how would he go about telling soap and his friends and shit?

if you dont want to do this req u dont have to, but it was jus an idea! ^v^

again, thank you in advance, luv ya and your work!

HAI BBY! sorry this took so long to write >< i hope this makes up for it! i also saw your other req and im rly looking forward in writing it! thank you for this!

╰﹒ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Fem!Reader & König X Fem!Reader

OVERVIEW: Your partner's reaction to the news of your pregnancy.

C/W: A sprinkle of angst with cute comfort and fluff ^^ mentions of being pregnant.

You took a deep breath, trying to still the trembling in your limbs. Your hands were shaking as you reached for the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter. You closed the door behind you and sat down on the cold tile floor, closing your eyes as you waited for the result.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you looked down at the test. Two bold lines were staring back up at you. You couldn't believe it - you were pregnant! At first, you felt a wave of joy wash over you, but it quickly turned into terror.

You were pregnant... with a baby. His baby.

You didn't know how to tell him, you were terrified that he would leave you if he found out. Tears streamed down your face as you collapsed onto the floor, sobbing inconsolably.

You had always dreamt of having a baby, but this was too much. It was too early. You were scared, alone, and entirely unsure of what to do. The idea of bringing a human being into this world was daunting, and you couldn't shake the fear that you wouldn't be a good parent.

You stayed there on the bathroom floor for what felt like hours, tears streaming down your face, until finally you heard the sound of your thoughts, telling you that you need to tell him. Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly wiped away your tears, trying to compose yourself, and scrambled to your feet to find him.

You opened the door and went out, sniffling away your tears. You were determined to do what was right, even though you knew it would be painful.

── ◜‹3◞  SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY :

"I'm pregnant..." you said, your voice shaking.

You stood in front of Simon, your legs trembling as you held the positive pregnancy test in your hand. You had taken the test a dozen times, and each time it came back positive. You had tried to push the thought of it away, to pretend it wasn't happening, but the reality was sinking in. You were going to be a mother. But more than that, you might become a mother without the man you love.

The words echoed in the silence that followed, as if they hung in the air between you two. Simon took a step back, his eyes growing wider as he tried to make sense of what you had just told him.

Simon stood in front of you, his eyes searching yours for an answer. You could see the shock and confusion written all over his face, and you knew this was the moment to tell him.

"What.." you heard him whisper. You thought he was going to run, to leave you to face this alone. But he didn't move, he just stood there, frozen in place..

That isn't a good sign.

You felt a lump form in your throat as the tears welled up in your eyes. This was too much to bear on your own, and you needed him, you needed his support, or else you didn't know how you would make it through this. But the silence was unbearable, and you felt like you were suffocating.

"I.." You took a step forward, your hand extended towards him. "Please, Simon, I need you."

You cradled your stomach and felt hot tears slowly going down your cheeks. You sobbed as you managed to choke out, "I can't do this alone, Si'. Please..."

Long gone was the distress in his eyes. Softness emerged from them as he realized the situation. And you swore you saw a shimmer in his eyes. You slowly watch as he reached out and took your hand, his touch sending an electric shock through your body.

"I'm here, sorry, love," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm here for you."

You felt like you could finally breathe again, like you had just been given a second chance. You felt a sense of relief wash over you, and you broke down in tears, finally letting go of all the fear and emotion that had been swirling inside of you.

Simon pulled you into his arms, holding you tight as you cried, his presence the only thing that kept you going. You look up at Simon, tears streaming down your face.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper. "I know this is a lot to take in, and I know it's not the right time."

Simon's eyes soften as he lowers himself to one knee, taking your hands in his. "Don't be sorry, love," he says. "We're in this together, we'll figure it out. I love you. I'll do everything I can to be there for you and our baby."

You feel a rush of relief and gratitude wash over you, and you lean in to hug him. "Thank you, Simon," you whisper.

Over the next few months, Simon goes above and beyond to show his support. He does research on pregnancy, childbirth, and newborn care, and he attends every doctor's appointment with you. He asks questions and listens carefully to the advice of the healthcare professionals, and he makes a point of being involved in every aspect of your pregnancy.

As you begin to show, Simon becomes more protective of you, helping you with simple tasks like carrying groceries or opening doors.

Despite his own uncertainties and insecurities from his abusive father, Simon still dreams to be a good father. He would spend time reading parenting books and attending parenting classes.

In those early days, Simon is a different man than the one he was before the baby arrived. He's more patient, more sensitive, and more thoughtful. He listens to you more deeply, and he makes an effort to truly see and understand you.

Simon walked into the pub, greeted by the familiar sound of laughter and the smell of beer. He made his way to the bar and ordered a beer, before taking a seat at their usual table in the corner.

Gaz, Captain Price, and Soap were already there, engaged in a conversation. As soon as Simon sat down, Soap noticed his presence and greeted him with a wave.

"Hey, mate," Soap said, his accent thicker than usual after a few beers. "What's up?"

Simon took a sip of his beer and cleared his throat, trying to come up with the right words to say. "I need to talk to you guys about something," he said, his voice sounding a little hoarse.

Gaz put down his beer and turned to face Simon. "What's up, man?" he asked, his concern evident on his face.

Simon took a deep breath, steeling himself for the reaction he was going to get. "My girlfriend and I are expecting a baby," he said, feeling a mix of emotions wash over him.

The three friends looked surprised for a moment, before bursting into a chorus of congratulations and questions.

Gaz asked if it was a boy or a girl, while Captain Price offered to help build the nursery and Soap promised to be there for Simon every step of the way, even bragged at the man jokingly that he would be the favorite uncle of his child amongst Gaz and Price.

Simon felt overwhelmed with gratitude for his friends' support. He felt like he could handle anything, knowing that he had people in his life who cared about him and were there for him, no matter what.

Simon, although still is quite insecure with himself to be a dad, he wants to be there for your child.

── ◜‹3◞  KÖNIG :

König is sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, unaware of what's about to happen and you shakily inhaled.

"Hun," you say, your voice trembling, "I need to talk to you."

He looks up at you, sensing that something's off.

"What's wrong, schatz?" he asks, placing his phone down and coming closer to you.

"I'm pregnant," you blurt out, feeling a wave of emotions wash over you. His eyes widen in surprise, and he takes a step back.

"W-Was meinst du?" he stammers in German, clearly taken aback by the news.

For a moment, there's silence between the two of you. You can see the fear and uncertainty in his expression.

"Are you sure?" he adds, his voice quieter than usual.

"I've taken three tests," you assure him and fumbled on your fingers. "It's... I'm sure."

You watch as König sinks onto the couch, rubbing his forehead as he tries to process the news. His social anxiety is starting to kick in, and you can see him pulling inward. You know this is a lot for him to take in, and you want to give him the space he needs to process his emotions.

But as you stand there, waiting for him to respond, you notice a sudden change in his behavior. He stood up to pace back and forth, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You can tell that he's getting increasingly agitated, and you're not sure what's going on.

This hurts you. So much.

Before you confront him about it, he abruptly storms out of the room, his footsteps echoing through the house. You're left standing there, confused and worried. Hurt, you cradled yourself for protection. Was it something you said? Did you do something wrong?

You spend the next few minutes in a state of anxiety, unable to shake the feeling that something is deeply amiss. You have no idea what to do or where to turn. But then, several minutes later, König finally comes back.

You hear him before you see him, his footsteps pounding against the floor. You jump up from the couch, your heart pounding in your chest. It's clear that he's in a state of panic, his hair disheveled and his eyes wide with distress.

"I'm sorry," König says, his voice shaking as he rushes to you.

He pulls you into a tight hug, his body trembling against yours. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, and you wrap your arms around him, offering comfort and reassurance.

"I'm so sorry, mein liebling," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please forgive me."

You're too stunned to even speak. Why'd he leave? And, he came back?

He takes your hands in his, tears streaming down his face.

"I never meant to hurt you," he says, his voice hitching. "It was just too much, too fast. I'm sorry, Es tut mir so leid, Süße."

"It's okay, König," you say, kissing the top of his head. "I understand. This is a lot for both of us to take in."

He pulls away slightly, looking up at you with teary eyes.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," he says, his voice cracking. "I'm so scared. I don't want to mess this up."

You caress his cheek softly, smiling at him. "We'll figure this out together," you say, your voice filled with kindness and love. "Okay?"

He nods, clinging onto you tightly.

"Okay," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude. "Danke, mein liebe. I love you so much."

König kissed your forehead and continued on peppering kisses all over your pretty face, making you giggle.

And in that moment, you know that everything will be alright. You're in this together, and you'll face whatever challenges come your way, hand in hand, united in love and determination.

The day König found out about the pregnancy was one of the most overwhelming moments of his life. He never expected to become a father so soon, and the thought of having so much responsibility suddenly weighed heavily on him.

As someone who struggles with social anxiety, he found it difficult to process his emotions and express them to you. He withdrew into myself, feeling isolated and like he was failing you.

But you refused to let him pull away. You gently but firmly pulled him back in, offering love and reassurance at every turn. You listened to his fears and concerns, and gave him the space to process them at his own pace. You were in this together, and he would be right there beside you every step of the way.

As the days passed, König slowly started to come out of his shell. He became more involved in the pregnancy, eager to learn and prepare for your new life as parents. He started to think about what kind of father he wanted to be, and how he could be the best partner he could be to you.

He was still anxious at times, but your support and love never wavered. You reminded him that he didn't have to be perfect, that you would face the future together, and that you would make mistakes along the way. Together, you faced every challenge that came your way, from picking out baby names to decorating the nursery. You became a team, united by your love for each other and your love for your child.

Through it all, König realized that you were his strength, his hope, and his happiness. You were his everything, and he couldn't imagine going through this journey without you. He knew that you were meant to be together, and that the road ahead would be filled with love, happiness, and joy.

König had always struggled with social anxiety, and it had been difficult for him to make friends. But he was incredibly close to his beloved grandmother, who he knew would be overjoyed to hear the news of his soon-to-be fatherhood.

So, he took a deep breath and started to write down what he wanted to say, practicing it a few times to help him feel more prepared. He knew that this was an important moment in his life, and he wanted to share it with the person he loved the most.

When he finally approached his grandmother's house, he could already hear her laughter and happy tears. It was as if she had been expecting the news, and he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders.

König takes a deep breath and approaches his grandmother, holding out the sonogram photo. His heart races as he waits for her to look up, eager to share the news.

"Großmutter," he trailed off. "I have some news to share with you."

"Oh, König, selbstverständlich!" the old woman said in her native tongue as she turns to him. "What is it, dear?"

"Großmutter," He clears his throat. "I'm going to be a father."

König watches his grandma's eyes light up and he felt so relieved to hear, "Oh König, that's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you!"

To his surprise, his grandmother responded with the sweetest words of love and encouragement that he had ever heard. She told him how proud she was of him, and how excited she was for your journey ahead as the mother of her grandkid.

He replies back in German, "Thank you, Großmutter. It means so much to have your support."

The old woman stood up and hugged him tightly, "Of course, dear. You know I'll always be here for you."

His grandma then kisses his cheek. He could see the joy on her face as he told her about the new life growing inside him, and he felt a warm sense of love and acceptance. Konig felt an overwhelming rush of happiness and gratitude as he hugged his grandmother tightly. For someone who struggled with social anxiety, the kindness and love that she showed him made him feel more confident and secure in the journey ahead.

With their love and guidance, König was excited to embrace the next chapter of his life as a father. He knew that he would never have to face life's challenges alone, he had you. You had always been there for him in the past, and he knew that you would continue to be there in the future. And with the new life growing inside him, he felt a sense of hope and happiness that he had never experienced before.

König can't wait to be the father of your child and shower him or her with endless affection and support.

[becsabillion4]

take it out on me (carmen berzatto x reader)

so this is my first time posting a fic of mine on tumblr since i was 14 and i'm slightly terrified by the formatting but i posted this on ao3 yesterday and someone told me to post here too (<3) so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoy the thought of getting pounded by carmy in the walk-in

pairing : carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary : Carmy is having a terrible service, and you're sure some time in the walk-in will help him cool off (although it gets hotter in there than you might think).

word count : 4,410

tags: SMUT, rough sex, angry sex, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, choking, semi-public sex, ending with soft carmy which makes it all okay, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and also this is NOT an advert for safe sex, it is merely a fantasy i have been playing with since my own days as a waitress and carmy has helped me to realise it. also i'm obsessed and i know y'all degenerates won't send help so instead i ask that you send me asks so i can write more about this wonderful man

Disorienting. Overwhelming. Stressful, painful, unrelenting. Burning your hand hard enough for it to stick to the pan, hard enough that you know on the way to the sink it’s too late, that you’ll bear the scar of that mistake for the rest of your life. Knives slicing always so close to your skin, living on the point of pain, focus trained so hard on the blade you can’t even blink. Shouting, screaming, the place could be on fire, and you wouldn’t look up from the art you’re creating. Flames licking at your apron. Beautiful.

Kitchens are the prison and the heart of a chef, and the one at The Bear is currently the pride and the bane of your life. Plating up your one billionth focaccia of the evening as Marcus rushes by holding a tray of cannolis aloft, you try to tune out Sydney shouting instructions to the new servers, trying to drill something, anything, into their panicked, under-developed skulls. 

But none of this worries you. What worries you is the ominous, creeping silence from the station to your right, where you know Carmy is cooking up not only the best food you’ve ever tasted, but an internal storm that is going to be unleashed any, second, now-

“Chefs! Where the fuck is my garnish? Tina, are you dead? ‘Cos you need to wake the fuck back up.”

Tina is already by Carmy’s side with the garnish, but the damage is done. She doesn’t bristle at his words, but shoots you a worried look as she slides by, murmuring, “Sorry, Chefs. Behind.”

Since you started working at The Bear six months back, you’ve witnessed a rare few Carmy outbursts, and you know everyone feels the same way when they happen. It’s like the moment you miss a step on familiar stairs, stomach lurching and fear sweeping through your body. Carmy is this kitchen, and his boiling point is the moment things tend to spin out of control. 

And yet, Tina’s reaction is everyone’s; disappointment in herself, instant forgiveness because she knows Carmy is doing everything he can for this team. Last week, after you and Sydney spent the evening getting wasted on her couch, she’d confessed to you how hard Carmy took his notorious opening night failure, and how he’s been struggling to make up for it since then. And it’s been working; his kindness, patience, and passion for elevating those around him have always outshone the occasional harsh word during service.

But this service is just bad. It’s been bad since 5AM, when you got here to take in the delivery and found out that the grapes needed for the welcome broth had somehow been left off of the order. It’s been bad since Marcus ruined three batches of cannolis in a row, and when Sydney tried to touch his shoulder and ask him what was going on, he stormed out. Since Sydney snapped at Richie for singing Taylor Swift badly during family. The hundred little underlying frissons of tension that normally dissipate as soon as service rolls around have congealed today, like oil in balsamic vinegar, rubbing together but refusing to meld into the team you know everyone can be.

And you know Carmy can feel it. His anger is a physical thing beside you, like standing next to a hot pan with too much oil in it and just waiting for it to start spitting at you. Knowing you have to keep stirring it anyway.

“Four top, two steak, one bucatini, one fish,” Sydney rattles off, and everyone responds “Yes, Chef!” a little too loud.

“Can I get some hands for this focaccia,” you shout through the din, pushing the two boards forward, but nobody responds. “Hands, please, get these off my station before I eat ‘em!” you call, trying to bring some levity to the atmosphere before-

“Hands, fuckin’ hands, Chefs, FUCK!” Carmy explodes, appearing by your side so suddenly you almost jump. His hands hover over the foccacia boards like he wants to adjust something on them, fix something, but you know as well as he does that they’re perfect already.

And of course, this just makes things worse.

Carmy properly looks up for the first time, straightening out of the “chef about to have an aneurysm over plating this fish” posture and into his “everyone here is about to get fucked” pose. “These are good to go, why are we not? Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. Go fuck yourselves-” one of the new waitresses approaches with trembling hands and Carmy pushes the boards at her, disgusted, almost taking them over the edge of the pass, “-all of you, what is the point of any of us being here if nothing is leaving the fucking kitchen!”

“Carm, it’s okay, they’re going out,” you can’t help cutting in, but you should know better than to try to soothe a wild animal. Carmy doesn’t say anything, turns back to plating up his fish, but his beautiful artist’s hands, which you often find yourself trying to draw in the margins of inventory checks, are shaking now. You’ve never seen him this bad. The whole kitchen waits on a knife edge. You glance up, watching the waitress leave with your focaccia, and have a brief but fervent desire to be her as the doors swing her out of this hellhole.

The fish is beautiful as Carmy puts the finishing touches to it. A server steps up to take it as other dishes for the same table coalesce at the front of stations, all elegant, all perfect, all more than worthy of the restaurant’s Michelin star.

Carmy is completely still. Staring. And you know it’s too late.

Plunging his fist down, he crushes the fish into sea-scented pulp. The shells of oysters, hand-selected, crack into broken-mirror shards; the sauce is peppered with shoddy scraps of lobster tail.

It’s still not enough for Carmy, as he picks up the plate and sends it spinning into the back wall, narrowly missing Sweeps’ head. “ Shit, ” Carmy mutters, turning back to his station and searching for more things to destroy. You watch him contemplate the knives, and you can’t stay out of it any longer.

“Carmy. Chef. Carmy,” you say as you reach out to grab his muscled arm, pulling him round to face you. You can feel the tension corded deep under his skin, see the sheen of sweat coating his tattoos. Normally, any skin contact with him sends your brain into overdrive, but you can’t afford to be anything but calm right now.

His eyes are wild, but you watch him steadily, and he watches you straight back. You’re not sure why, but the moment reminds you of how you felt on those rare occasions he invited you and Syd over to brainstorm new recipes in his cramped kitchen. Especially that time Sydney couldn’t make it, and you were midway through describing your idea for a yuzu-infused scallops course to him - “with maybe, like, a garnish of broccoli just absolutely smothered in hollandaise” - when he reached forward, tucked a scrap of hair behind your ear, and the very idea of food whisked straight out of your head - but you still felt hungry. And whilst he’d tried out your broccoli idea over and over again that night, you found yourself blushing every time he passed you a spoon to taste it. 

You never could get that dish right. Every time you thought about it, you couldn’t separate the flavours from the curious look in his eyes, the way he drank in your ideas, absorbed them before he responded, how his eyes tracked every thought that crossed your face.

Now here you are again, staring at that measured, thoughtful man turned savage, and you wonder if you have the guts to do what you’ve been thinking about doing for a while.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you murmur beneath the clatter of plates behind you, just for him. You don’t look away even when you hear something shatter. You move your hand from his arm, up over his shoulder, push your palm into the curve of his neck and hold it there. 

Then you wait, feel his shoulders jumping up and down with his rapid breathing. Wait until he leans into it a little, chasing your solidity, and it’s all the response you need.

“Come with me.” It’s not a question, but he nods anyway.

“Sydney, you got this?” You ask, never taking your eyes from Carmy’s face, worried that if you do, you’ll lose whatever grip you have on him right now.

“Yes, Chef,” she replies, and you feel her edge round the side of Carmy to put another fish on rapid fire. He catches her eye as she passes, and brings his hand up to his chest, rubbing it once in what has become the team’s official way to apologise during service. She responds in kind, and he lets you drag him off the station, past the others shooting him worried looks, straight into the walk-in.

You shut the door carefully, recalling the stories of Carmy’s previous imprisonment. It’s still securely closed, giving you both some calm and privacy to cool off.

Except cooling off is not really what you have in mind.

You turn to see Carmy slumped in the corner, curled in on himself and running his hands through his already-chaotic hair. He stands again suddenly, bracing his hands on the wall behind him as if to remind himself they exist.

“Carmy.”

“Yeah, shit. Sorry, I just need a second. It’s just, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I was thinking about doing something with ceviche, but I couldn’t figure out what fish would work best, and then that sorta spiralled into a panic attack which kept me up whisking eggs for something until three, and then-” You watch his eyes darting over the shelves around him as he talks, and you realise he’s taking stock of what’s there. Even during a full-blown meltdown, he cannot stop working, stop thinking. He starts pacing.

“Carmy,” you say again as you try to catch his eye. He’s staring at some spare T-bones like they’ll explain to him whatever dish he was whisking eggs for last night. Fuck it. You grab his chin, tilt it until he has to look at you.

“D’you know the best way to calm down?”

“Lock yourself in the walk-in for three hours?” He’s trying to relieve some tension, but you have other ideas on how to handle that.

“Sex, Carmy.”

There. You’re terrified that you finally acknowledged it, finally confessed to what you’ve been thinking about for months, but thank God it’s out in the open. You’ve been blushing at his compliments on your food for far too long, ignoring how good he looks in a white tee for even longer. And today has been such a shitshow it can’t possibly get any worse by admitting to this too.

You wait for Carmy to shut it down, laugh it off, maybe even fire you, but he just looks shellshocked. Then again, that is his default look.

“I, um…” He rubs a hand over his forehead, glances up at you almost shyly. “I mean, um. What?”

“Listen, you’re fucking up service. You’re distracted, tired, stressed beyond belief. I want to help you, and I won’t pretend it’s just out of the goodness of my own heart. I’ve been interested in you for a while, Carmy. You can take that or leave it or kick me out of this walk-in if you want, but I’m here. I want to help you work through things, through all this anger. And…I want you to know you can take it out on me. And maybe even feel better at the same time.”

Carmy is flushed, and you’re all out of words. You kind of wish he was still looking at the T-bones.

“We, uh, we can’t.” Carmy leans back on a freezer for support, crossing his arms in a pose you normally associate with him working something out in his head, deciding what a dish is missing or what it needs to take it up a notch. “I mean, not now. Not here, at least. And I don’t know, we work together. I’m your boss. It’s not a good idea.” He reaches a hand round to his back, starts massaging the strain away there. It’s an especially effective position as he doesn’t have to look at you as he does it, as he says, “Sorry.”

You shrug a little, smile. Try to pretend it doesn’t hurt. Keep it professional, or as professional as you can get in a kitchen. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Get some sleep, Chef.”

You turn to go, hoping that stirring and slicing and plating up will shake off the embarrassment currently burning through to your bones.

But you don’t live to regret the offer as Carmy grabs your arm, spins you and shoves you hard enough into the walk-in door that it rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, everything okay in there Chefs?” you hear Marcus call, and it’s a reality check you absolutely don’t want right now. Carmy doesn’t even seem to have heard him, trailing kisses down your neck, collarbone, shoulder as your body arches into the feeling. You’ve had one too many fantasies about this walk-in since you started, but the actual feeling doesn’t begin to touch the dream.

“Yeah, all good Chef!” You manage to reply, but you barely get the ‘Chef’ out before Carmy’s lips slide over yours, pushing, demanding entry as his body keeps you pressed up against the door. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place, is all you have time to think between kisses.

There is no room or time for playing around. Carmy needs this, and you intend to provide, but you’re damn sure getting everything you can out of it just in case it never happens again. One of your hands curls deep into his hair, pulling his head back as your teeth click together in the ferocity of the kiss. You swear you can taste blood, but neither one of you pulls back, the saltiness only urging you on. Your other hand is busy loosening his belt, and you tug it hard to pull the silver prong free of the leather, hard enough that his hips jerk forward into yours and you moan, long and low.

Gravity suddenly spins on its axis as Carmy lifts you, turns and drops you down onto the freezer Fak installed last week. And for once in your life, thank you, Fak. The movement seems to shake Carmy out of it for a second, and he pulls back, hesitates. A hand curves around your cheek, and you can feel an apology coming, see the reticence forming in his eyes. And honestly, fuck that.

You hook fingers through his belt loops, dragging him closer and then using them to tug his trousers down. You’re not gentle as you reach into his underwear, wrap a hand around his cock, and you can tell that’s what he needs as he hisses, his head drifting back.

Removing his hand from your cheek, you guide it slowly down to your neck. His head snaps up, and there’s a darkness, a need, that wasn’t there before as you move your hand slowly, torturously, down his length.

“Hey,” you whisper, reluctant to interrupt the low grunts spilling from him with each of your movements. “I’m not going to break.”

You squeeze his fingers around your throat a little tighter, and it’s this that has him surging forward, messy mouths pressing together again and everything condensing into a rippling, burning, rightness as the fingers of his other hand shove themselves between your legs.

He lingers there for a moment, breaths short and sharp in your ear as he breaks free from your kiss and whispers, “If we had more time, I would clean up the mess you’re making all over my freezer, Chef.”

“My apologies, Chef,” you pant, the sweetness of the apology marred slightly by your fingers tugging hard through his curls. Then you’re pushing up his white shirt at the back, reveling in the heat of him, the muscles straining under your touch. “What’s my punishment?”

Carmy hesitates, then withdraws his fingers from you slowly, and it feels like the calm before the storm. One hand is still pressed loosely around your neck as he brings the other up to your face, runs the edge of his still-wet fingers over your lips. Asking or demanding, you don’t know, but you’re happy to comply. His pupils are blown so wide you can barely see the blue behind them, and when you slide your mouth over his fingers, taste yourself on him, he closes them in momentary bliss. And it’s so beautiful to see that you can’t resist pulling him in to share.

A Michelin-star chef with one of the most sophisticated palates on the planet. A renowned food critic once wrote of him, “In my next life, I’d like to be just one of the taste buds in Carmen Berzatto’s mouth.” And here he is, savouring you, tongue searching out every corner of your mouth as if he wants to figure out each and every component of your taste. Add the recipe of you to his menu, and make it every night.

You’re both done waiting, and the clock is ticking. You can faintly hear Sydney calling orders through the wall, although she sounds steadier now. You don’t know whether anyone out there knows what you’re doing, but a rampaging elephant couldn’t stop Sydney when she’s on a roll.

Carmy pulls you closer to the freezer’s edge, jeans and underwear falling to his ankles and suddenly he is right there, and-

“Oh, fuck,” is all you can say as he pushes forward in one swift, animal movement. And oh, pain flickers down your spine as he slides almost free of you and thrusts back, relentless, and this is exactly what you signed up for.

“ Fuck ,” he echoes, hand sliding down your neck to settle over your racing heart. “Fuck, you…I don’t know how you do this to me,” he pants, and you try to keep your moaning down so you can hear as words spill from him, “When you come in with your hair down before a shift, when you - ah - when you borrow my knife and I see you using it all service, when you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. Shit. You drive me crazy on purpose, and you wanna know what the worst part is?”

You can’t breathe, let alone answer him.

“The worst part is I eat that shit up every time, ” he snarls, punctuating every word with a short, sharp thrust.

This is the animal you saw tonight, spitting curses, destroying his own food, all sharp edges and uncompromising will. Grunting as he bottoms out inside you, fingers clenched around your upper thigh hard enough to bruise, littering bites over your neck as if your colleagues aren’t an unlocked door away.

But the animal isn’t the end of Carmen Berzatto. There is more to him than the bear, and you intend to remind him of that before you’re through.

“Look around you,” you pant as he thrusts again, harder, sweeter, and you have to get this out before you tip over the edge. So you risk bringing the hand you were using to support yourself forward to turn his chin towards the walk-in’s walls, to beyond them, to the restaurant hard at work and the satisfied diners metres away who have no idea what’s going on in here, and fuck if that doesn’t make it all the more delicious. “Look what you made. Look who you are.” You watch his flushed face, hope he understands the praise, but you can’t hold on anymore to see your words land.

“You’re fuckin’ unbelievable, Carmy,” is all you manage to choke out as every muscle in your body lights up, tenses and releases in a flood so strong you wonder if you’ll ever surface, and if you even want to.

Carmy fucks forward into you twice more, and his head drops onto your shoulder as he groans, shudders, relaxes fully for what may be the first time in his life.

You stroke a hand over his head, pull him closer. You’re not quite sure when this stopped being a no-holds-barred quickie and became a quiet, intense embrace, but it feels right. All the desperation, the keyed-up energy, is gone from him. And if he never wants anything more than that, even though the idea is more than a little disappointing, you can take consolation from the fact that you at least managed to stop a raging Carmy in his tracks.

Although it is a little quiet.

“Carmy?” You ask, hesitant to break the silence. Thankfully, it still sounds like it’s all bustle outside. You wonder how long you’ve been in here, and try not to think about how you’re going to emerge with any shred of dignity intact.

Carmy pulls back, and you can’t define the look on his face, but it worries you. His eyes shine slightly, and his gaze skips across your face, down your body, not holding your stare.

“Are you okay?” You ask, praying this isn’t about to get really awkward really quick. The man’s still inside you, for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah. I, um, I should be asking you that.” Carmy’s hands skim down your sides, fingers pressing in randomly as if to check for bruises. He tilts his head to look under your chin, as if to check he hasn’t caused any permanent damage to your neck. “Jesus. Are you alright? I’m sorry, that was rough.”

“I’m totally fine.” You don’t know what to do to reassure him, so opt for two big thumbs up. “See? Voice working and everything.”

Carmy chuckles unevenly, takes a careful step back, and you try not to consider how empty you feel and how cold and slippery the freezer now is underneath you. You hop off, catching yourself on the side when you realise just how shaky your legs are. When you glance up at Carmy, he’s just staring at you, which is, frankly, unnerving.

“Do I look that bad?” you ask, pulling your hair out of what’s left of a ponytail to start again.

“No. No, I’m just…I’m just taking you in.” The raw honesty in his eyes pins you in place for a moment. But of course, Richie shouts “ Cousin!” before you can read into it too much.

There is a moment of panicked dressing and clean-up, a nod to each other to confirm you both look relatively sane and not totally fucked (even though you doubt it), and then a collective deep breath as you push open the door of the walk-in.

You don’t catch anyone’s eye for a second as you head to your station, Carmy’s presence like an open flame behind you.

“Corner. Corner. Behind, sorry Chefs,” you call as you slide back into place. Two quick glances calm you; one at the clock - seventeen minutes - and one at Sydney, who doesn’t look like she’s about to throw up and only has three tickets in front of her. You spare a final one for Fak in his position by the door, who you are positive would be grinning gleefully if he, or anyone else in the kitchen, knew what just went down in the walk-in.

“What do you need, Syd?” you ask, picking up the familiar back-and-forth of the kitchen again with some relief.

Carmy is quiet, focused, for the last half hour of service, but you can’t keep your mind clear. As soon as last orders are sent out, you slink to the back for a cigarette, hoping the smoke will at least wipe out your brain fog. It does the exact opposite. When you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. You exhale, waving the smoke away as the words churn through your brain. I eat that shit up every time.

“Hey,” you hear, and you’re almost thankful to speak to the real him just to distract yourself from thinking about earlier.

“Hey.” You offer him a smoke, and he takes it, sinking onto the step next to you. The brush of his leg against yours is a lot more comforting than you expect it to be, relaxing a secretly worried part of you.

He takes a long drag, the kind of drag you only take when it’s been a shitshow of a day. “I just want to say I’m-”

“Sorry? It’s okay. It doesn’t have to happen again,” you finish for him. It hurts less that way.

“What? No.” He looks at you until you reluctantly meet his gaze. “Not for that. I’m not sorry about that.” He lets that hang there for a second, holds your eye. “But I’m sorry for losing my shit earlier. Nobody deserves to be around that, and…I want you to know I’m working on it. I wanna be…I wanna be good at this.” It’s a stilted apology as he thinks through every line, and it feels all the more sincere for it.

“That’s okay. I know. We all know.” You reach a hand out to touch his arm, and after a second, he lowers his head to rest on his knee, although his face is still turned towards you. You see his eyes flicker from your hand on his arm to your face.

“Although that wasn’t exactly how I expected that to go by the way,” he says after a moment.

You don’t try to pretend you don’t know what he’s referring to. “What, in the walk-in?”

“Oh, no, I’ve thought about it in the walk-in.” You ignore a pulse of feeling at his casual confession, at the idea that he’s thought about you. “I just didn’t imagine it so…heated, I guess.” Carmy raises his head again, traces a finger along your hand where it rests on his arm until you shiver. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”

You hesitate for a second before replying. Before extending the branch. “Well, I’m sure there’ll be other times, Chef.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and it’s your turn to watch his thoughts flickering there, watch as the fog clears, the idea forms, and he says, “Yeah. Next time.”

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

wow guys thank you for reading i pray through the act of writing this that my jeremy allen white obsession will calm the fuck down, but i fear i've made it worse

if you'd like to keep up with me on ao3, you can find me here and please do send me any comments or feedback or prompt ideas, i would love to hear them <33 thank you!!

[muiitoloko]

Hi, could you write something a bit different for Turpin, less harsh like if his girl is in pain with his period (yes in fact I am currently in pain with my period 🙄) and he takes care of her though he his still the death judge but for his wife, he his a better version version of himself because she is his special one.

Title: Husband's duty.

Summary: It is a husband's duty to care for and love his wife, and Turpin takes this duty seriously.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warnings: none

Author's Notes: Hey there! Oof, sorry to hear about the period pain, I feel you on that one! 😩 But hey, let's switch gears and imagine a softer side to Turpin, shall we? Wishing you a speedy recovery and sending lots of good vibes your way! 💕

Also read on Ao3

First, Second and Third part here.

As you gradually awaken to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, you feel the familiar ache of menstrual pains coursing through your body. Turpin, your beloved husband, stirs beside you, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist, drawing you closer to him. You can sense his arousal pressing against your backside, a common occurrence in the intimacy of the morning.

However, today, the pain is too intense to ignore, and you gently push him away, wincing at the discomfort that courses through you. Turpin grumbles softly, his deep baritone voice tinged with irritation. "What's troubling you, woman?" he murmurs, his brows furrowed in concern.

You try to convey your distress through soft words, knowing his temperamental nature all too well. "I'm not feeling well," you whisper, hoping he'll understand the severity of your discomfort.

Turpin's eyes narrow slightly as he takes in your pained expression. Despite his reputation for cruelty and a demeanor that often strikes fear into others, he has always been different with you. His hooked nose and stern features soften ever so slightly as he shifts to sit up, his hand moving to gently brush a strand of hair from your face.

"What ails you, my love?" he asks, his voice losing its edge and becoming tender. The contrast between his usual harshness and the way he treats you never ceases to amaze you.

"It's... it's my time of the month," you admit, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "The pain is quite severe today."

Turpin sighs, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. Not at you, but at the situation. "I see," he mutters, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your abdomen, as if trying to will the pain away. "Why did you not wake me sooner, [Your Name]?"

You offer him a weak smile, touched by his concern. "I did not want to trouble you, Richard. You have enough burdens to bear."

"Nonsense," he replies gruffly, though there is a softness in his tone. "Your well-being is my foremost concern."

He stands up from the bed, his tall frame casting a shadow over you. You watch as he moves to the dresser, pulling out a small vial of laudanum, the tincture he keeps for such occasions. He returns to you, uncorking the bottle and carefully measuring out a dose. "Here," he says, holding it to your lips. "This will help ease the pain."

You take the laudanum gratefully, the bitter taste a small price to pay for the relief it promises. As you lie back down, Turpin sits beside you, his hand returning to your waist. "Rest now," he murmurs, his fingers stroking your hair gently.

You nod, feeling the laudanum begin to take effect. The pain starts to dull, replaced by a comforting warmth. "Thank you, Richard," you whisper, your eyes fluttering closed.

"Think nothing of it," he replies, his voice soft and tender. "I am your husband. It is my duty to care for you."

In the quiet of the morning, you drift back into a more restful sleep, the pain receding under Turpin's watchful gaze. He remains by your side, his stern exterior a shield he uses against the world, but never against you. In this moment, you are reminded of the complex man he is: cruel to others, yet tender and protective of you.

As you sleep, Turpin's mind drifts to the day ahead. His duties are many, and his temper short, but with you, he finds a sanctuary from the harshness of his existence. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, a silent vow of his enduring love and protection.

After ensuring you were comfortable and drifting back into a peaceful slumber, Turpin gently slipped out of bed, his movements calculated and precise. His mind was already occupied with the tasks of the day, but he couldn't shake off the concern for your well-being.

Padding down the creaking wooden staircase of their grand estate, Turpin's presence seemed to command the attention of the household servants. He didn't have to raise his voice to be heard; the mere weight of his gaze was enough to instill fear in those around him.

"Where is that lazy Beadle?" Turpin barked, his baritone voice echoing through the hallways. "Summon him at once!"

The servants scurried to obey, knowing better than to incur their master's wrath. One of them darted off to find the Beadle, while another rushed to prepare a cup of tea for you, following Turpin's orders with trembling hands.

Turpin's patience wore thin as he waited for the servants to carry out his commands. "Hurry up, you fools!" he snapped, his voice laced with contempt. "Do you want me to do everything myself?"

The servants hastened their steps, fearing the consequences of any further delay. They knew all too well the price of crossing their master, and none dared to risk it.

Finally, the tea was prepared, and a servant timidly approached Turpin, offering him the cup on a silver tray. "For Madame," the servant murmured, her eyes downcast.

Turpin snatched the tray from her hands, his hooked nose wrinkling in disdain. "About time," he muttered, striding back up the stairs to the bedroom.

Entering the room, Turpin found you still sleeping peacefully, the lines of pain on your face softened by the laudanum. He set the tray down on the bedside table, his gaze lingering on your serene expression for a moment before turning around to get ready for the day.

When he was ready, Turpin went downstairs again, and his mood worsened once more. The servants scattered before him like leaves in the wind, but their fear only fueled his frustration.

"Useless lot," he muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with disdain. "If I had my way, I'd replace the lot of you with machines."

The servants dared not respond, their heads bowed in submission as they went about their tasks. They knew better than to challenge Turpin's authority; in his presence, they were nothing but mere pawns in his game of power and control.

With a final glance back at the bedroom where you slept, Turpin steeled himself for the challenges that lay ahead. He was a man of many faces: cruel to his enemies, tender to you, and merciless to those who dared to defy him. And as he stepped out into the morning light, the world trembled beneath the weight of his presence, knowing that Richard Turpin was a force to be reckoned with.

When Turpin returned home from the court, weary from a day spent dispensing justice with his characteristic severity, he went straight to his bedroom. Pushing the door open quietly, he found you still curled up in bed, your form barely stirring under the layers of blankets. He approached the bed with a tenderness reserved solely for you, his footsteps measured and careful.

"My love," Turpin murmured softly, his deep voice echoing in the quiet room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair away from your forehead. "I'm home."

You stirred at his touch, blinking sleepily as you gradually woke up. A small smile graced your lips as you saw Turpin's familiar face hovering above you.

"Richard," you murmured, your voice still thick with sleep. "You're back."

He nodded, his hooked nose catching the light as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Yes, my dear," he replied, his voice softer than usual. "I've been thinking about you all day."

You reached out to him, your fingers finding his hand and squeezing it gently. "I missed you," you admitted, your eyes searching his face.

Turpin's expression softened even more, a rare vulnerability in his stern features. "And I, you," he confessed quietly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "How are you feeling now? Has the pain eased?"

You nodded, grateful for his concern. "The laudanum helped," you replied, your voice still tinged with drowsiness. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"It's my duty," Turpin said, his voice firm but filled with warmth. "You're my wife, and I will always care for you."

He gently lifted the blankets, carefully sliding into bed beside you. His large frame enveloped you as he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

"Rest now, my love," Turpin murmured against your hair, his breath warm against your skin. "I'll stay with you."

You snuggled into Turpin's embrace, finding solace in the warmth he offered. His day had been tiring, with countless cases to judge and the weight of his judicial responsibilities bearing down on him. As you asked him about his day, his expression softened, a rare glimpse of vulnerability crossing his stern features.

"It was a day like any other," Turpin sighed, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "So many cases, so many lives affected. The burden of justice weighs heavily on my shoulders."

You listened attentively, your hand gently rubbing his arm in a soothing gesture. "You carry the weight of the world, my love," you murmured sympathetically. "But you always come home to me. Let me help you."

A faint smile crossed Turpin's lips as he met your gaze. "You already do, my dear," he replied, his voice softening. "Your presence alone brings me comfort."

As you settled more comfortably into his embrace, Turpin's warmth eased the lingering pain from your menstrual cramps. You sighed contentedly, feeling grateful for his care and love. But there was something that was bothering you, something you hadn't been able to get out of your mind since you woke up that morning.

"Richard," you began softly, hesitating slightly, "do you ever wonder if we will have a child?"

Turpin's brow furrowed slightly at your question, his thoughts drifting to the future. "I do," he admitted, his voice tinged with concern. "We have tried so hard, my dear. But I am certain it will happen soon."

You sighed, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "What if... what if it doesn't happen?" you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Turpin's expression softened, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "Then we will face that together," he assured you, his voice unwavering. "But I am confident it will. You will make a wonderful mother, [Your Name]. I believe that with all my heart."

You nodded, comforted by his words but still troubled by the lingering doubts. "I just worry," you admitted, your voice wavering slightly. "What if I cannot bear children? Would you still... want me?"

Turpin's eyes softened, his fingers gently wiping away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "Oh, my dear," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You are everything to me. More than a child, more than an heir. You are my heart, my love."

You swallowed hard, overwhelmed by his declaration. "But the Turpin line..." you began, your voice trembling. "You need an heir."

Turpin's expression turned pained, his hand moving to gently caress your abdomen. "Yes, I do," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I cannot bear the thought of losing you, [Your Name]. I would rather the Turpin line die with me than lose you."

His words hung in the air, the weight of them sinking into your heart. You had never seen this side of Turpin before, this vulnerability that he rarely showed to anyone. Despite his ruthless reputation, in this moment, he was just a man deeply in love, torn between his duty and his heart.

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Richard," you whispered, your voice filled with love and understanding. "I love you. And I want nothing more than to give you an heir. But I need to know... if I cannot..."

Turpin's thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand. "I will choose you," he said firmly, his eyes meeting yours with unwavering determination. "Every time, my dear. I would choose you over everything."

Tears welled up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his love for you. "Oh, Richard," you breathed, pulling him close. "I love you too. More than anything."

Turpin held you tightly, his embrace a silent promise of his devotion. "We will face whatever comes together," he murmured against your hair. "I swear it."

In that moment, as you clung to each other, you knew that no matter what the future held, you and Turpin would face it together. His love for you transcended duty and lineage; it was a love that would endure, no matter the trials ahead. And as the day faded into evening, you found solace in the knowledge that you had each other, and that was enough.

[gojos-fr-bae]

The Altar Alternate Ending

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: Itty Bitty Angsty but There's light at the end of the tunnel this time. Cussing and heavy emotions as well so proceed with caution

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: Surprise Surprise. SURPRISE SURPRISEEEE. Ok so I wrote the original with a sad ending but honestly I can't bear it. I wanted write a part two were the had a happy ending (well not really happy, but hopeful that it will get better) but I just wrote this so you guys can have both options for those who prefer a happy ending aka me😤😤 If you haven't read the first version, You realy don't need to, but feel free😉 Also, I'm so sorry for being gone for so long, I have been hella sick the past two months I couldn't write, better now tho so yay😌😌

(Requests Open)

Today was the day. Your wedding day. The day you had been dreaming of since you found out what weddings were. As much as you knew that weddings technically weren’t a necessity, you wanted the whole world to know that you were marrying the love of your life. But the more you sat in your dressing room in your elegant white dress, looking up at the clock as seconds ticked by terror and dread began to sink in.

It was an hour since you were meant to be called out to walk down the aisle and you couldn’t take it anymore. You burst open the double door and ran halfway up the parted crowd of people before you noticed how everyone was looking up at you in pity.

Your breathing began to pick up and you began to feel dizzy, turning around and being met with his best man, Suguru, looking at you, face coated with pity and anger.

“I’m so, sorry Y/N” he whispered.

“Suguru what the hell is going on”

He just looked down at his feet, apologizing again In an almost inaudible tone, fists gripped around his phone so tightly they were shaking.

“SUGURU WHERE THE FUCK IS HE!” you shouted no longer caring about all your family and friends looking at you with worry.

“A mission came up in Tokyo and he said he’d be quick but-” You didn’t hear the rest of his sentence as your ears began ringing, and tears began to cloud your vision. Sobs wreaked through your body as you ran away. Ran away from Suguru, your parents, and the altar.

You ran from it all, and you never turned back.

~

“Y/N! Y/N PLEASE! MY LOVE WHERE ARE YOU!! PLEASE!!”

You heard your now ex-fiancé shouting at the top of his lungs, stumbling his way around the apartment frantically looking for you. His heart stopped as he looked down at you, no longer wearing your stunning wedding dress nor your engagement ring which sat on the ground next to the suitcase you were frantically packing.

“Y/N STOP! SWEETHEART WHAT’S GOING ON!” he sobbed, running towards you and desperately trying to pull you away from the suitcase but you were too heartbroken and angry to be stopped.

“My love please! Don’t do this! I’m sorry!”

“Sorry!? FUCKING SORRY?! THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF AFTER FUCKING ABONDONING ME ON OUR WEDDING DAY YOU JACKASS?!” You screamed, slapping him clean across the face, but he seemed completely unfazed as he picked up your engagement ring before trying to pull you into his arms as you zipped up your suitcase. 

“Y/N please, stop! Let's talk about th-”

“No! I’m done fucking talking Satoru!,You always do this!, missing a date or anniversary I can forgive! BUT OUR FUCKING WEDDING DAY!?!? I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS ANYMORE! YOU ALWAYS DO THIS, ALWAYS BREAK MY HEART AND I FORGIVE YOU OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND I'M TIRED! I’m so fucking tired Satoru. I can’t- I just, can’t. I’m sorry.”

You ran to the front door and tried to reach for the door but Satoru squeezed himself between you and said door. His back was pressed to it with one of his hands back to clutch the handle, preventing you from leaving.(Imagine that one scene from the kdrama My name where the dad is trying to stop the killer)

“Satoru please move” you begged, voice cracking as you pleaded with him. You no longer had the energy to shout and fight anymore. You were mentally, emotionally, and physically fatigued. All you wanted to do was to collapse onto your knees and sob till you had no tears left to cry. But you knew you couldn’t stay. No longer could you force yourself to be in a relationship where you were no more than an afterthought.

“Baby p-please, please don’t-don’t leave. I promise I can fix this, please. You can punch me, kick me, stab me a thousand times. Rip me apart if you need to j-j-just don’t leave.” He begged, Tears streaming endlessly down his face. His entire body was shaking as he tried to convince you not to leave.

The weight on your shoulders finally became too much to bear as you fell to the ground and began to cry painfully. Satoru knelt down before you and wrapped his hands around you. Together, you spent the better of 6 hours in shambles, finally letting all the emotions out at all once.

***

You two were still sitting on the floor, breaths finally steady. Satoru still had his arms around you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. Neither of you had the energy to even stand up, as you both basked in the silence.

“They were gonna kill you,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. If the room hadn’t been so quiet, you likely wouldn’t have heard him.

You pulled away from him, despite his attempts to prevent it. You tried to meet his eyes but he had his eyes trained on the ground.

“What?” you questioned, thinking you just heard your own things.

“They wanted to kill you…the higher ups…they were going to kill you.” he repeated, tone pained and somber.

“Satoru, what on  Earth are you talking about?” you pressed trying to understand what on earth he was on about.

He finally raised his eyes to meet yours. Your chest tightened as you saw all the pain he held behind them.

“The higher ups didn’t want me to marry you. They had even planned for me to marry some zen’in girl. They told me that if I married you, they would kill you. At first I thought they were bluffing. They couldn’t possibly try to kill you under my watch, buta few weeks ago, while I was on a mission, they sent a curse-user after you. By the time I got back, It was almost too late. If I had gotten there even a second later I-I-” he choked up, stopping to take a deep breath before he continued.

“I knew that they wouldn’t give up until you were gone, so I went to try talk them out of it-”

“And that’s why you ditched me at the altar?”

“I s-swear I didn’t mean to! I went yesterday and they sealed me in some prison realm thing. I barely even managed to escape! By the time I did get out, got dressed and reached the venue-”

“I was already gone?” you whispered, looking up at him., suddenly feeling slightly shitty.

He nodded slowly before speaking up again “P-Please don’t blame yourself" he quickly said, before pulling you back into his arms,”Everything you said was true. I have been a horrible partner and I don’t deserve to have you as my fiancé, let alone my wife, but please don’t leave. I’m so so so sorry for ruining our special day but I mean It when I say I would rather cease living then have to spend the rest of my life without you by my side. Please, my love. Please”

You were at a loss for words at what had just transpired. Of Course you didn’t wanna leave him, you LOVE him. But at what cost?

Finally, can restt. Also, for anyone that previously asked to be on the taglist, I got mixed between you and the tags for Liar so if you still want to be on the taglist pls lmk.

© gojos-fr-bae

[lady-raidia]

Hi my fellow german ♡

If you're up to, I'd love to request a Gil-Galad x reader writing (: I'm so sad that there is still not much out there. Something fluffy like love at first sight or first kiss (or both haha)

Thank you so much in advance!♡

Hey there! 💗 I am so sorry that you had to wait such a long time for me to respond! :( I was suffering from a writers block and I couldn't write anything for months :'( But I am back and I am trying to catch up! I hope that you enjoy this One-Shot (or maybe two shot hehe) even though it ended up a little bit shorter than I wanted to. But I will try to write a part 2 for this one, so we can have more Gil-Galad content hehe. Again, I am so sorry that you had to wait for such a long time! And I am sorry if my english sounds weird in the story :o But please enjoy! 💗💗

FOREST HEART - GIL-GALAD IMAGINE

Pairing: Gil-Galad x Reader

Summary: You are an old friend of Galadriel and visit her in Lindon, where you wander off into the forest. You just wanted to enjoy the nature but you found a hidden treasure that will change your life.

Warnings: None, just some Gil, snobby language and bad english.

Request Here / Masterlist

Nestled amidst ancient trees and shimmering waters, you have lived a life full of peace and harmony. You had chosen this life, far from Lindon, to escape the gossip and side-eyes you would get when passing by other elves who knew you were not like them. Your father was an elf, but your mother was of the race of men. She was the most beautiful woman you have ever seen but the fragility of a mortal life took her away from you. After her passing, your father followed her into death, since his heart couldn't bear the grief and loss it had suffered.

You grew up in a small cottage close to Lindon, the place your mother and her mother were born and raised. It was your sanctuary, your haven, and as a child, you thought Valinor must have looked exactly like your home. Even after your parents passed away you stayed at that small cottage to care for the garden your mother cherished so much.

Even though you lived your life far from others, you still had close friends you have known since childhood. One of them was Galadriel and you would refer to her as your best friend. You held her dear in your heart and even though you hadn't seen each other for centuries, you regularly wrote letters to each other. You would usually write about how your garden is growing and that the birds are nesting again, while Galadriel would entertain you with the adventures she had been on. (If you can call it an adventure. She is trying to hunt down orcs to find Sauron and with each letter you get from her it becomes apparent that she is slowly losing her mind. You are worried for your friend because she seems too fixated on Sauron being still alive.)

A couple of days ago you received an invitation to Lindon to celebrate Galadriel and her troop for „freeing the world of all evil“. You were happy to hear that her efforts to hunt down every orc are finally being acknowledged! And you wouldn’t be her friend if you wouldn’t tend that celebrations! So with a mix of excitement, worries and nostalgia you went on the journey towards Lindon.

When you arrived, Galadriel greeted you with open arms and a radiant smile on her face! It must have been decades the last time you have seen each other. But before you could talk about old memories and laugh about the shenanigans you did when you were children, she introduced you to Elrond, the herald of the High King. He offered to guide you around since Galadriel had business to do and while he was giving you a small history lesson that wasn’t really anticipating, he also warned you to not get too deep into the forest. For someone who doesn’t know the woods very well it is easy to get lost in them. And the last thing Elrond wants is to lose you and having Galadriel yelling at him for not paying attention. You had to promise to not go on your own and to always stay in the city. And you really wanted to keep that promise. You really did.

The days before the celebration you tried to spend as much time with Galadriel as possible. But she still had some duties she had to attend to, so she would usually leave you alone in the evening. It is your third evening here in Lindon and you already wish to be back at your small cottage. Elves aren’t a noisy folk but still it seemed like their voices were yelling at you. All the people, the talking, the faint music in the distance - you weren’t used to it, so for that moment it was just too much for you. You needed a moment of silence and since you arrived in Lindon it seemed like the trees were talking to you. You remembered the promise you’ve made and said to yourself that you would only walk for a bit - not too far off, so you can easily find a way back. Also, you have the senses of an elf, so nothing could go wrong.

With a sense of childlike wonder, you ventured off the path that was before you and headed straight into the woods. The forest with its towering trees, vibrant flowers and singing birds, mesmerized you and you have totally forgotten the words of Elrond. With each step you take, you get further away from the city but closer to the calmness of your soul.

Lost in the magic of the moment, you failed to notice the sun slowly going down and being replaced by a soft darkness.

„Beautiful isn’t it?“ Suddenly, a voice broke through the silence of the trees, dragging you back to reality. Startled, you turned to find a men standing in front of you with a gentle smile on his face. His presence was both mysterious and comforting. You have seen his face before, many years ago, but you can’t remember who he was. Maybe a friend of your father?

„Indeed. While the soil here might look like any other forest, it is made of hope and wishes from those who have walked here before us." You spoke softly while maintaining your gaze on the man in front of you.

He came a few steps closer to you with a light smile on his face. „It has been a long time since someone recognized Lindon's beauty. Too many became used to its sight and stopped wondering what miracles it might hold.“ You listened carefully to his words and nodded „But it seems you are not from Lindon. Lost, perhaps?“

„Galadriel is a friend of mine, and I am not lost. My feet tend to carry me places where my heart wants to go but my thoughts are too afraid of.“ The man before opened his mouth to share his thoughts with you but was interrupted by the voice of Galadriel who came running towards you.

„Y/N you shouldn’t be here!“ She looked at you and then made eye contact with the dark-haired elf in front of you. „I apologize! Y/N is a visitor and a friend of mine, my king.“ You nearly tripped over a root when you heard your friend address that man as „my king“. The reason his face was so familiar is because he is the High King of the Noldor, Gil-Galad.

Galadriel drags you away from him before you have a chance to speak, scolding you for being so careless. You apologized to her several times and felt that by not addressing him by his title, you had offended the king. In fact, he felt no offense at all. The thought of your conversation still lingered in his mind as he watched you and Galadriel walk away. Whenever his shoulders are unable to bear the weight of the crown, he retreats into the forest to enjoy the silence. Usually, the elves of Lindon don’t go that far into the woods so he can be on his own. But today, you were carried deeper into the woods by your own feet without a care in the world. For a while, Gil-Galad watched you admire the flowers and trees while the last light of the setting sun was reflected in your eyes. He was in awe and for the first time in his long life, he didn’t have the courage to speak. But when darkness slowly reached out, he talked to you and he was immediately enchanted by your voice and words. He always thought that he had lost his heart in the woods but it seemed that you found it. Now it is up to you if you want to claim it for yourself.

To be continued 💗

@fenharel-enaste @starlady66 (I am back, I hope it is okay I tagged you guys again! :) )