#i've HAD IT with these cheating plots

[androgynousmoonboy]

i can't with this fucking show

[youremyonlyhope]

I took this quiz. And some episodes were easy. Some made me just plain mad (Anti-Mavity Motorbike. No. I hate this stupid running joke). Some made me mad because I understood IMMEDIATELY what they meant (Awkward Bed Sharing, Paving Slab, Smacked Bottom) and it annoyed me that it made sense. And some made me mad because I knew the exact episode but could not remember the actual title for the LIFE of me (PE Teacher, Floating Fingers). And others made me want to sob (Cup-A-Soup, Solid Right Hook) because I loved the description choice so much.

Anyway. I need there to stop being so many "the [Blank] of the Doctor" episode titles. I can't keep track of them. At a certain point if I knew it was an 'of the Doctor' episode I just skipped it.

[bannock-freak]

Chicago inspired Victuuri AU where Yuuri gets thrown into the slammer after he kills a shitty manager, gets very talked down to (JJ maybe?), then promptly seduces (mostly accidentally) The Best Defence Attorney This Side Of The Country Victor Nikiforov, who initially is only in it for the money until Yuuri pins him with his big'ol eyes and despite his attempts to resist, is immediately doomed. Plus side, Yuuri's on the highway to hell with him in the passenger seat so aaaaye

Now they just need to make sure Yuuri doesn't get the death penalty but in the meantime, well.... Yuuri's already in jail for murder, making out with his lawyer can't be any more against the law...

[hellaverse-critical-confessions]

(from this video)

[justakaku]

Another load of Jealousy - Yunho x f!reader

Summary: Yunho isn't about to even entertain the idea of his girlfriend talking to another man. It doesn't matter how many loads of love, care, and cum it takes to make her remember that she is his and he is hers. Genre: smut (mdni!!!) Pairings: bf!Yunho x f!reader Tags/Warnings: SMUT MDNI, mean dom!yunho (kinda sweet after some time), sub!reader, fingering(?), penetration, unprotected sex, established relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding kink, choking, bulge (lmk if something is missing, I have never done this) A/N: This is the 3rd smut I've ever written in my life... I haven't posted the first two since they were written a couple years ago and were bad, so I hope this is worth posting. The plot isn't anything great because this was mostly for trying to see what it's like to write smut and I didn't want to waste a good plot on this if this turned out bad LOLLL. So please, keep in mind that I've almost never written smut! Word count: 2 300 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If someone asked you if you loved Yunho, you’d answer ‘yes’ in a heartbeat. He was more than just a lover or a boyfriend; he was your worshipper, kissing the ground you walked on. And if someone asked you if you’d ever cheat on him, you’d give a firm ‘no’ and tell the person off. Although you wanted to make it clear to everyone you were Yunho’s girl because you loved him, it wasn’t the only reason to push people away. You’d be in big trouble if he started to consider the possibility of you holding affectionate feelings for anyone else than him. 

“Baby, what are you doing? ~” 

Despite Yunho’s needy tone and presence next to you on the couch, you couldn’t tear your gaze off of your phone. 

“Wait a second, Yuyu,” you murmured. 

He watched as your fingers tap-danced on the small screen, obviously writing a message to someone. Someone who was robbing him of your attention. Your eyes reflected the light coming from the phone screen but Yunho’s eyes shone with something else. He was getting frustrated. 

“Please, I’m lonely,” he whined, his hand creeping up on your thigh, trying to go unnoticed yet wanting desperately for you to pay attention to him. 

Still, you didn’t even glance at him. It was subtle but Yunho noticed how you tried to hide your phone screen, leaning away ever so slightly. 

The longer your attention was on the mysterious person you were talking to, the angrier Yunho became. 

You felt him squeeze your thigh, silently demanding you to finally look at him in the eyes. It was a final warning. Only when his long fingers dug onto your inner thigh, you turned to face him. 

“Who are you talking to?” 

Yunho’s icy voice shouldn’t have surprised you – this was nothing new, given his possessive nature. And like always, while it made you nervous, it also caused your pussy to clench around nothing. You couldn’t help but get horny when he looked like he’d devour you any second now. 

“Just work stuff,” you murmured, taking a glance at his hand. No matter how many times his beautiful fingers had been inside you, reaching the deepest, sweetest spots, you just couldn’t get enough. 

“At this hour? That’s bullshit.” 

While Yunho’s eyes were cold, they were undeniably burning with both fury and lust. You knew the look way too well just like he knew your body. 

“I’m friends with him so I feel comfortable texting him even in the evening. It’s just about a work project.” 

“Him?” Yunho’s eyes narrowed. 

You were too nervous to break eye contact with him, but you didn’t need to see to feel his hand hover over your core, so close but so far. Even though he was barely touching you, he was probably able to feel how your wetness seeped through your night shorts. 

“Please, Yunho... Don’t tease me,” you let out a quiet whine, hoping it’d persuade Yunho into touching you. 

Immediately, he pulled you roughly into a kiss. In a normal situation he would have kept you begging for him, but right now his desire and anger towards you were too much to handle for both of you. His lips claimed yours and showed no mercy or signs of going easy on you. You were enthusiastic to kiss him back, but his need to have you was even stronger. 

The way he started nearly biting on your lips would have soon left bruises, if you hadn’t pulled away. The both of you were breathing heavily after the intense moment, but Yunho wasted no time in trying to rest. 

“Who is that coworker? A friend you say?” 

You felt your pussy get wetter by his demanding words and you tried your best to give him an answer – one that would satisfy him enough yet encourage him to fuck you senseless. 

“We’re not close, but enough to be considered friends-! Yunho!..” 

He interrupted you with his fingers suddenly under your clothing, circling your clit. 

“What do you need friends for when I’m here? Don’t I give you all you need?” 

You squirmed around at the movements of Yunho’s skillful hands. It was hard not to feel even slightly embarrassed; you didn’t want him to know how aroused his possessiveness made you. 

“Y-You can’t do work projects for me... I need him.” 

Your choice of words pushed the wrong buttons in Yunho, and he took his hand out of your panties. He didn’t care when you whined at the loss of contact, just pure jealousy burning in his eyes. 

“You say you need him? Baby, I’m all you need,” his voice was low and dangerous, “There’s nothing and no-one else.” 

It didn’t take long for him to have dragged you into the bedroom, his fingers wrapped around your wrist in a bruising grip. You tried to savor every moment despite knowing there were more to come after this. 

The streetlights outside were the only source of light in your dim bedroom. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, but apparently Yunho saw well enough to push you onto the bed. Maybe he wouldn’t have cared anyways if he had pushed you accidentally on the floor. Whenever he got like this, satisfying his need to claim you was the top priority. 

“Strip.” 

You immediately started taking off your nightwear which you had just changed to after shower. Your hair was still damp and smelling like your shampoo. It was definite you’d have to take a shower again after this – preferably with Yunho. 

“You’re too slow,” he scolded. The way he started pulling your shorts and panties off was surprisingly gentle; even though he was mad at you, he was still your mere worshipper and saw you as his goddess. 

Finally, when you saw him properly, your breath caught in your throat. He wasn’t standing, just on his knees on the bed, but his height was still intimidating. You loved it though. You loved every moment of this, and your pussy throbbed with desire to have him fill you up to the brim. 

His chest was heaving with anticipation, and although seeing it bare always excited you, your eyes were fixated on that cock of his. 

“I-It’s bigger than I remembered...” 

“You’re going to take it nonetheless. You don’t deserve this after how you’ve acted but I need this now,” Yunho stated, his tone leaving no room for discussion. 

You felt like a prey, his next meal, as you watched him crawl closer on the bed and lay you down rather harshly. The intense eye contact just added to the arousal you felt leaking out of you. You needed him so bad, and your legs spread open automatically to give him way to your core that was aching for him. 

“You need a damn reminder every week of who you belong to. I don’t know if I want you to stop teasing me like that or not,” Yunho whispered, his right hand finding its way to your neck, “At least I get to fuck you like this.” 

He turned your gaze back up to him by gripping your neck, when you tried to look at his cock. You managed to see how its tip was covered in clear precum. It was as hard as it always was when you had moments like this, if not even harder. You wondered how it had ever managed to fit inside you with the impressive girth and length. 

“Look at me in the eyes. I want you to look at me clearly so you’ll remember my face every time you talk to another man.” 

You didn’t have time to process Yunho’s words. As he pushed his cock inside you, it was impossible to think about anything else than him. Although you were as wet as ever for him, it was still almost hard to take him in. No matter how many times he had made love to or fucked you, no matter how fast and rough or slow and romantic, he stretched you up nicely every time. 

“My girl. My baby,” Yunho muttered more to himself than to you. His hips had started moving some time ago already, but only now you were coming down back to Earth. 

His hand was on your neck like to use it to support himself, but the grip was still somewhat gentle. It tightened every time he thrusted in, and the lack of air just made you lose your mind in the pleasure even more. 

Your walls were slippery and starting to adjust to his size, so he slid inside with ease. It didn’t mean there was no delicious friction left though. 

“Who do you belong to? Him or me?” he growled into your ear. Although the pace of his hips had grown faster, he made sure to push deep inside you, drawing out every moan he could get from you. 

Your attempt to answer was cut off quickly as Yunho’s hands started squeezing your throat. It would have been hard to breathe even if you weren’t breathless already from having him ram your insides. 

“Answer me. A little choking shouldn’t shut you up like this.” 

Again, you tried to tell Yunho that you were only his to love, fuck, and take care of. But he held your throat tighter again, clearly teasing you. It was impossible to win this game, and you loved it that way. 

A mocking smirk spread on Yunho’s lips, “You don’t have to say it. I know you’re mine by the way I’m the only who ever gets to be balls deep inside you.” 

He released your neck and pressed his hand lightly on your lower stomach. It was no secret that your boyfriend’s cock was big, but the way you could see a clear bulge, the way your lower abdomen moved up and down with Yunho’s thrusts, made you clench down on him. 

“F-Fuck... You make it so hard to stay mad at you,” he groaned out. 

You watched his eyebrows furrow as if he was holding back. Finally, you had been able to catch your breath, although it was still difficult due to his relentless thrusts. 

“I love you. I’m yours, Yunho...” 

Your pleasured admission not only softened his heart a bit but made him even more lustful. He knew you were his. If you tried to leave him, he’d find a way to make you stay – even with force if necessary. But hearing you say out loud once again that you were his satisfied him. 

“I know. I know, my pretty girl, and I love you too,” his eyes met yours in a gentle way even. 

A loud moan slipped past your lips as Yunho’s fingers found your clit, finally continuing what he had started on the couch in the living room. Circling, pressing, and pinching on it – he did it all. Your sensitive skin tingled and almost felt like on fire. 

“W-Will you fill me up?” you grasped at the sheets under you, making them all rumpled and look unkempt. They were dirty anyways due to the sweating. 

Yunho moved your hands on his shoulders. There was nothing more that he wanted than to see your nail scrapes on his skin, a mark of who he belonged to. 

“I’ll fill you up, baby. My cum will be leaking out,” he looked at you before turning his eyes to his cock, slightly amused, “I’ll just fuck a new load tomorrow then. You’ll have my babies in no time.” 

His talk about breeding you brought you closer to your release, and he definitely noticed it by the way your pussy squeezed his thick cock. 

“Look at your pussy, how it’s clenching down on me. It likes to be bred, huh?” 

“Yunho, I-I'm close... so close,” you whimpered, gripping his shoulders like they were your savior. But you knew nothing could save you from the climax you were reaching quickly. 

Yunho smiled down at you a bit cockily, “Have I made clear who you belong to?” 

“Yes!” you whined, thighs trembling. 

“And who do you belong to, baby?” 

If you weren’t in such a state of mind-blowing pleasure, you could have teased him on purpose and said the name of your coworker. However, now that you were so close to coming, you couldn’t ruin this. 

“You! You, Yunho!..” 

A genuine, sweet smile tugged the corners of his lips slightly upwards. By looking at his furrowed eyebrows, it was clear he was holding back as well, near to orgasm but fighting back for your sake. 

And Yunho knew your body so well, that he recognized your sounds of enjoyment and body language, so that just when you reached the peak, he closed the distance between your lips. Your cries of pure pleasure were muffled by his mouth. 

His body shook and it didn’t take long for him to go over the edge, to let out a few stifled groans. Hot cum spurted out inside you, filling you just like Yunho had promised. 

“So, you’re going to block that man’s number, right?” Yunho mumbled, his head lying down on your chest. He could hear your heart beating rapidly after the intense session but eventually calming down to steady, slow beats. 

You chuckled, caressing his hair slightly damp from the sweat, “I can’t block my coworker’s number.” 

A surprised and disappointed whine fell past your lips as Yunho got up and pulled his now softened cock out of you. He looked down at your pussy, watching with glee how his fresh cum leaked out. There was a lot of it still inside you, but it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was ever enough for him when it came to you. 

“I guess you can take another load then.” 

[beargyu313]

adult swim

Jake sim x fem!reader, Ni-ki x fem!reader

Summary: What happens when Niki walks in on you and Jake fucking like animals? He of course tries fucking you too. word count: 9.6k, mdni, A/N: this used to be in three parts but i've decided to put them together this is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent anyone in real life who is mentioned.

a/n: THOSE teaser photos actually ruined me, pg divider by firefly graphics on tumblr

Tags: nsfw, CHEATING - dont like it? dont read it, NO plot, semi-public sex, p in v, some fingering, everybody is very horny lmao, heavy petting (I had to), some slight dry humping, making out, they’re being watched but don’t know it :) angst, betrayal, jealousy, power play, use of bdsm gear, controlling and angry Jake, forced submission, brat tamer Jake, dom!jake,, brat!niki, sub!reader, niki and reader are restrained by rope, jealousy, general sneakiness, Niki is younger than reader and Jake, pwp, filming (dubcon), op is toxic and Niki is slightly pervy, size kink, manhandling, blackmail, tummy bulge, creampie and I think that should cover everything ??

One minute you two were excusing yourselves from everybody else, going inside the house with the only intention of drinking some fresh water.

But the way Jake was leaning against the kitchen counter, smiling at you. You just had to kiss him.

So naturally one kiss turned into a whole makeout.

And it is precisely why and how you find yourself pressing your chest into his naked one, your back arching.

Jake’s hands on your ass, pushing you against his hardening dick – still hidden behind his swim trunks.

“J-jake,” you whimper, “please, I need more.”

“We can’t,” he sighs, letting both of us catch our breath. He slides his hands on your waist, effectively pulling you even closer to him.

“Stop that,” Jake says, a slight whine in his voice. He’s referring to the way your nails are raking over his chest, your thighs rub together trying to relieve some friction. Any friction really.

And the way Jake is looking down at you isn’t helping, unknowingly your lips turn into a pout, eyes widening before a sharp and quick slap lands on your ass.

You audibly moan at that, biting your lips as you look at Jake through your eyelashes, “if you’re trying to turn me on even more, it’s working,” you tell him.

Jake pushes his hips into yours creating some of the friction you know the both of you are craving.

“It’s not my fault you get turned on by everything I do babe,” he tells you with a quick peck to your lips.

Jake continues “but really though, we shouldn’t do anything here with that big ass window, someone could see us.”

He’s referring to the glass walls separating the kitchen from the outside pool where the rest of the guys were currently at. With their never ending games in the pool you doubt any of them would even glance in your direction.

“I don’t care,” you tell him “besides, they’re all in the pool nobody is gonna look inside, c’mon please Jakey at least finger me while we makeout,” you shamelessly beg.

You see hesitation on his face and don’t feel even slightly bad when you push your ass into his hands, letting your hands slowly and deliberately reach the back of his head – you start playing with his hair, lightly tugging on it - a weakness you knew Jake had.

“Please Jakey,” you further beg, “I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be quiet, nobody is gonna see us.”

“Fuck, okay okay, I can’t even fucking concentrate when you look at me like that,” Jake says, landing another slap on your ass – this one lighter, not painful as was the previous one, but still enough to leave a light delicious stings.

You smile into the kiss, knowing you’ve won this time and lean completely into him.

You feel his hands slide below your swim trunks, touching the naked skin underneath. His hands are gripping your ass when you feel his right hand slide towards your wanting hole.

“Jakey,” you murmur, spreading your legs apart to give him easier access. Your kiss is turning more and more messy the longer you two stand in the kitchen, saliva mixing together. A loud squelching sound can be heard throughout the kitchen – you both paying it no mind.

You grip his bicep when he finally pushes his middle digit in, sighing in content.

“Please Jake, gimme more,” you moan into his mouth, “I’ve been thinking about this – about your fingers, your dick, your tongue, o-oh, all day Jakey, ah, yeah all day.”

Jake continues fingering you, his left hand wrapped around your waist – holding you up. You had completely relaxed as soon as he started curling his finger inside of you.

“Yeah princess?” Jake groans, “is that why you’ve been teasing me all day,” he asks pushing his middle and ring finger in and out of you with hard and precise motion, finger fucking you exactly the way you like it, “think I haven’t noticed you pushing your pretty tits into my face all fucking day, I should punish you really, but here I am instead giving you exactly what you want.”

Suddenly his fingers leave your wanting pussy and you gasp as he turns you around right hand tightly gripping your hip as he pushes your back down with his left one.

Jake has manhandled you into a doggy style position. This way you can feel the bulge of his hard dick pressing against your clothed slit.

“Mmm are gonna fuck here Jakey?” u whine, shimmying your pussy against his dick, “you gonna fuck for me for anyone to see?” you ask, whimpering when he spanks you in two quick motions.

“Stop being so damn slutty,” Jake whispers, “what feeling shy suddenly?”

He’s referring to the way you flinch when a loud scream is heard from the outside, you try to stand up but Jake is already pushing your bottoms to the side.

“Gonna give it to you just the way you like it princess, don’t care if anyone sees us, I’ve had it with your slutty behavior today, maybe this will teach you a lesson,” Jake rambles as he lines his dick to your wanting entrance.

“F-fuck you’re so wet, you wanna get caught huh,” he asks, a slight smile in his words. Wordlessly you grip your cheeks, spreading them apart in silent command.

He starts pushing his dick into you and you do your best to muffle your moans, the way he’s stretching your gummy walls-

“Yeah, you want someone to see us? Look how fucking wet you’re getting, you’re practically creaming on my dick already,” Jake groans.

You whine at that, pushing your ass back and forth, the slow rhythm Jake set driving you crazy.

“Faster Jakey, need it faster please,” you whine, perhaps a bit too loud. An action that grants you another slap on your ass.

You moan again, unknown to the both of you that Ni-ki had just walked into the kitchen. Jake continues to pound into you his eyes fixated on the way his dick disappears into you. Watching – almost mesmerized – the way your lips grip onto his dick, a thick white ring hugging his dick tightly.

Jake moans when he feels your walls stretch and squeeze his dick, shutting his eyes shut so he doesn’t cum too quickly.

Ni-ki freezes as soon as he both hears and sees you two – not knowing what to do. He had originally came inside to see where the two of you were, not expecting to see a scene like this.

With you being bent over in the middle of the kitchen and Jake pounding you from behind. He can’t help it when he feels his dick getting hard, your moans making his brain short-circuit. He watches Jake grip your tits from behind, feeling his own dick twitch.

“J-jake, fuck I’m so close, Jake” he hears you moan, watching as your hand travels to your clit.

Niki watches your fingers work in circular motions over your clit and that’s when he decides. He shuffles himself behind a wall, effectively hiding himself from both of you as he makes quick work, wrapping his hand around his hard dick.

Niki quickly spreads his precum over his dick, furiously jacking himself off. He has never done anything with a girl before and he thought you were hot from the first time Jake introduced you to him.

Watching you fall apart under Jake made him think of all the other times you and Jake had disappeared together.

“Baby, ooh, I can feel you squeezing me, fuck,” Jake moans, he sounded so whiny and Niki couldn’t help but notice and store every single detailed in his brain.

So Niki continues watching, gripping his dick harder and watching with his lower lip between his teeth. He watches his hyung as he pushes his hips into yours so hard you stumble forward. Watches you press one hand over your mouth as your other hand works in quick motion over your clit. Niki watches as Jake – still inside of you – lets you stand straight and lean on him. Niki’s so turned on right now, so much so that he cums embarrassingly fast, your and Jake’s orgasm triggering his own.

Post nut clarity hits Niki hard, feeling embarrassed he runs to the bathroom to clean himself up. And yet he can’t deny he wants more, he wants to watch you two again – maybe even join in? But no, he knows Jake would kill him if he ever found out even about this time.

Meanwhile you and Jake are just coming down from your orgasms.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” Jake whispers to you, his hands feel light on your stomach where he is caressing you. Your hands are over his, tracing over the veins on his hands.

Just a mere week after you had a pool day with Jake and the rest of his teammates, you found yourself hanging out with them yet again.

This time around the company prepared a team dinner – the comeback promo was wrapping up and everybody was still chasing the buzz that only a successful comeback brings.

At first you were a bit apprehensive about joining Jake but he insisted, saying some of the guys wanted to see you, and yes, they really didn’t mind you tagging along. But still, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Seated between your boyfriend. And right across from you was Niki. Niki.

After Jake and you fucked literally in the middle of the kitchen sense finally seemed to hit you. You still vividly remember coming back outside to everyone else (with Jake next to you of course), and feeling the sense of dread filling your stomach.

Niki wasn’t there.

The rest of the guys were still in the pool, hadn’t even noticed Niki had disappeared.

You tried subtly asking when he went back inside, IF he even is inside but nobody could answer.

And so since then, since the seven days have passed you have declined every one of Jake’s invitations to come over to his dorms and chill. You knew he was slightly hurt over your refusal but you couldn’t risk facing Niki.

Because after he had joined everybody else outside he couldn’t even meet your eyes. Averting his gaze whenever you looked at him.

He made you feel tense, so much bigger and taller than you, at first you just wrote it off as being intimidated by him. But now you can’t deny why you feel so on edge around him.

Hence why you tried to avoid him all together.

And now here he was, sitting right in front of you.

You try not to stare at him, try not to stare at his defined chest, his open shirt hiding nothing underneath. You try not to imagine the way the necklace he was wearing right now would feel hitting your face whilst he fuc-

“you okay baby, you look tense?” Jake asks, waking you from your daze.

You wish he wasn’t so kind to you, wish his actions didn’t make you feel guilty for thinking what you were. And what you weren’t thinking about – him, your boyfriend, your loving and caring boyfriend who noticed immediately if you weren’t feeling great and tried to help.

No, instead here you were trying to sneak glances at Niki. And with the way you noticed him trying to subtly stare at you… you knew this wouldn’t end well.

You needed to stop before things escalate and someone gets hurt.

Niki on the other side of the table is feeling somewhat nervous. Not sharing the same guilt you’re feeling, he is instead trying to recall every detail of how you sounded and looked that day. He hasn’t been able to forget it.

It didn’t help that Jake just couldn’t shut the fuck up about you, constantly bringing you up. One day it was the selfie you sent to Jake that Jake just had to show off ‘isn’t she just so cute,’ and then the next day mopping around, missing you.

And Niki just wanted some fucking break from you.

He was exhausted of thinking about you. And here you are, sitting in front of him and looking so pretty. It’s like you were teasing him on purpose, coming here in a dress that hugs your body just right, smelling divine.

Niki stares at the way your fingers trace the edge of your wine glass. Gulping as he remembers how just a week ago he watched those same fingers play with your clit.

He wanted to talk to you as soon as he saw you, somewhat missing you when he didn’t see you around the dorms. He couldn’t decide if he wanted your absence to mean you and Jake were having issues or not.

He doesn’t care really, as long as he gets to see you, talk to you, maybe even cop a feel sneakily.

And yet, you haven’t so much as glanced at him a couple of times. But that wasn’t enough for Niki, that wasn’t what he wanted.

He subtly stretches out across his seat, moving his leg so it rests next to yours. He sees you flinch slightly at the touch. You glance at him in disapproval – but you don’t move your leg.

Niki softly grazes your calf, half surprised but also pleased when you stretch your leg out – closer to his.

He watches as Jake - clueless to what is going on right in front of him - protectively puts his arm on your back rest.

Niki sees Jake whisper something to you, you shaking your head in answer, and he can’t help but feel an ugly feeling overtake him. He swears to himself it isn’t jealousy and yet he calls out to you. Shifting your attention back to himself.

“Noona?” Niki tries, his voice cracking embarrassingly, he winces and asks you to pass him the soy sauce.

Jay calls him out, pointing out the sauce is closer to Jay than to you.

Niki ignores him.

You on the other hand were feeling a bit taken off guard. With the glare Niki directed at Jake’s hand, the footsie play he started under the table and the way he keeps looking at you… now you’re pretty sure he saw or at least heard you and Jake the other day in the kitchen.

You thought acknowledging that would make you uncomfortable, and maybe if it were any of the other guys you would be. But since it was Niki, it strangely feels exhilarating.

And maybe, just maybe it makes you want to see how far Niki is willing to take this game he started tonight.

So, naturally you decide to test him.

You slide your foot up his leg, when you reach his knee you lightly push your heel into it. You hear Niki hiss the high heel pressing into his knee uncomfortably, you smirk when he  listens  and spreads his legs. Your leg travels higher and higher. Closer and closer to his crotch. But after you reach his inner thigh you pull back.

You feel Niki wrapping his fingers around your ankle, trying to keep your foot on his leg, but you manage to pull away. The look he gives you is enough to have your thighs squeezing together.

After that someone, maybe Jungwon decides the guys – and also you, need to wrap up the night alone.

And so the seven guys and you, find yourselves back at their dorms.

There’s drinks and a quiet hum of rnb music present throughout the living room.

Everything happened so fast, meaning you couldn’t really play with Niki anymore. Which was a shame, because he looked cute flustered. And also hot. With flushed cheeks, partially closed eyelids and dilated pupils.

Fuck, you really needed to stop thinking about him before anything escalates.

As a poor attempt at distracting yourself you decide to go to Jake. Luck really wasn’t on your side tonight as you see him on the living room couch – conversing with Niki.

You slide next to Jake, deliberately on the side further from Niki.

“What’s up baby?” Jake smiles at you, pulling you into his lap and smiling stupidly up at you.

He was so drunk. And now you’re straddling him. In front of Niki. Again, you and Jake are being inappropriate in front of Niki again.

You try to keep your dress from hiking up your thigh, feeling a burning look on the exposed skin. That you know isn’t coming from your boyfriend.

Jake wraps his hands around your body pulling you into him and breathing you in.

“You smell good,” he mumbles.

“Thanks Jakey,” you say as your hands subconsciously travel to his hair.

Jake starts kissing your neck and you, hyper aware of Niki’s presence try to push him away, but Jake only pouts at you.

Niki tries not to watch as you kiss Jake back, tries to ignore the way you’re looking at Jake. When you should be looking at him instead.

When the two of you start full on making out, tongues meeting, Niki dazedly watches Jake’s hands explore your body – your lower back, your waist, naked thighs.

Niki wants to take Jake’s place so bad, wants to make you moan and whine and whimper. Wants to make you feel good, make you fall apart for him. For Niki.

The three of you get interrupted by a playful shout coming from the kitchen. Sunghoon was annoying Sunoo, holding a drink above his head – just high enough so Sunoo can’t quite grab it from him. Their banter enough to break whatever was starting on the couch.

“I-I should go,” Niki hears you say.

Jake pouts at you, letting you stand up, “but I thought you were gonna sleep over?”

“No sorry, I have a work thingy tomorrow,” you lie.

“If I’d known I wouldn’t have drank so much baby,” Jake whines, “how are you gonna get home?”

“You know I could take her,” Niki quickly interjects.

Niki sees you tense at that, your arms wrapping around your body as if you could read his wanting thoughts.

“You would do that?” Jake asks, eyes big.

Niki only nods in agreement, amazed that getting you alone really would be that easy.

“You okay with that baby?” Jake asks you. Niki notes the slight hesitation and tension in your voice – but you don’t disagree. Jake doesn’t notice the way the air in the room seemed to shift.

Jake walks the two of you to the doors and bids you goodbye. Kissing you in farewell. Niki doesn’t miss the way Jake’s hands slip to your ass and giving you a squeeze.

He just smirks as he looks away. Deciding right here that this was going to be his spot soon. And you were going to let him. You would enjoy it.

And you do. You let Niki accompany you home. You unlock your door stiffly, hyper aware of Niki’s gaze on your hands as you pull down the doorknob, letting the hallway light steep into your apartment.

“Um, thanks for walking me home Niki,” you speak with your eyes on the floor, unable to meet his intense gaze.

With his hand under your chin Niki gently lifts your head up. And you feel the tension melt of your body, feeling an invisible string pulling you to him.

“Are you thanking me or the floor?” Niki teases, a smirk on his lips. He bites his lip as he stares down at your smaller frame. Subtly crowding you towards the door.

You take a step back and Niki follows, follows until the two of you enter the privacy of your home.

Niki softly kicks the door behind him closed and you finally manage to take your eyes off him.

“What are we doing?” you ask.

“Everything we want,” Niki easily replies. He rests his arm on the wall fully entering your personal bubble.

You try not to show him the affect he has on you, try to calm your breathing but still your chest betrays you. Betrays your deep breaths, your forbidden thoughts.

The cut of the dress was dangerously low and you can see Niki glance at your heaving chest. Your lacy bra peeking out. He licks his lips and you want to whine with how much you want to kiss him right now.

Want him to touch you.

“Noona,” Niki breathes, “I know you want this too, so just let me make you feel good.”

“It’s not that simple Niki,” you tell him, pressing yourself into the wall. You badly needed to clear your head, get a grip, but the close proximity and Niki’s scent were driving you crazy.

“Yes it is,” he says, a hand experimentally reaching out and touching your waist. “Interesting, some things you’ll do without closing a door, but this? This is where you want to draw the line?"

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asks, even though you fully know exactly what Niki was implying.

“What me and Jake do is none of your business,” you tell him sharply. You try to push him back but Niki holds your wrist in place, trapping you between the wall and himself.

He knows how small and weak you are compared to him and a twisted part of him gets off to that. To know he could just do whatever he wanted to you right now, and you would just have to take it.

Niki shifts in his place, the bulge in his pants straining uncomfortably.

“Oh, but you made it my business,” he says, a crazed look on his beautiful face. He’s still holding you in place when he kisses your neck.

You try to hold back any noise, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But this only spurs Niki on to be rougher. He bites your neck and the pleasure travels straight to your pussy.

With your hands on his chest you try to push him away, “Niki stop, you can’t leave a mark.”

He listens, pulling away with a smirk on his face, “please, as if Jake would notice with how drunk he was tonight.”

“But enough about him noona, where’s your bedroom?”

You wordlessly take him to your bedroom, trying to ignore the sound of clothing hitting the ground.

Anticipation is killing you as you reach your room. You start to pull your tight black dress off your body when Niki stops you.

“I want to,” he says, clad in only his boxers. You think you see him drop his phone on your bed but that thought is quickly forgotten when Niki’s mouth is on yours.

Niki unzips the dress, and you think you hear him gasp behind you when it falls open. Cute.

You bend down so the dress can be fully taken of, but also because you know Niki is behind you and watching your every move.

He fondles your ass, hands traveling to your hips so he can push your ass against himself.

Niki hisses when his clothed dick rubs on your ass. Fuck, this was exactly how he watched Jake have you.

Niki thinks the plum shade of your matching lingerie set looks stunning on you, but he also wants to rip it off you. Wants to reveal your aching cunt to him. He can feel it pulsate where his dick meets it.

“Nikie, c’mon, do something,” he hears you whine.

He sucks in a sharp breath when you turn around, unclasping your bra.

When you face Niki topless you can just feel his dilated gaze drinking your every curve in.

It makes you slightly insecure but it much more turns you on. You can’t remember the last time Jake looked at you with so much raw want.

 You shake the thought of Jake out of your mind, kissing Niki instead.

When he kisses you this time he is less careful, more rough. Harshly pushing his tongue into your mouth and shifting you down so you are laying on the bed.

Your bedroom is full of whines and moans as you help Niki take his boxers off.

“Nikiii,” you whine, not caring if he finds you pathethic, “please just fuck me already, I want it so bady” all your senses filled with him. His touch, his scent, his deep voice.

Niki is serious as he stares down at you, contemplating something.

“Promise you won’t be mad,” he says and before you can eve say ‘what’ he is ripping your panties off of you.

“Ohmygod,” you whisper, legs wrapping around him in instinct. He doesn’t give you any time to complain as he lines his dick on your pussy.

You both whine in sync. Both realizing jut how big his dick was compared to your tiny pussy.

“Niki it won’t fit,” you tell him, “you need to prep me first.”

“Fuck noona, I can’t wait, please I’ll put it in slowly I promise,” Niki mumbles, shifting himself closer to you.

He is once again so close that all your senses are overcome with only him. Only Niki.

“O-okay,” you agree, your hands resting on his back – ready to scratch him if he hurts you.

Niki guides his dick to your wanting hole but he doesn’t just push his dick into you. No, he playfully nudges it against your hole a couple of times before pushing his mushroom head into you.

You loudly moan when you feel him stretch your tiny walls apart, “fuck, fuck, fuck wait Niki,” you panic, nails pushing into his back.

The pain of your nails piercing Niki’s skin had the opposite wanted effect. His hips stuttering, dick twitching with Niki closing his eyes tightly.

“Noona,” he speaks, voice so deep it makes you painfully clench around his mushroom head, “don’t do that or I’m gonna cum.”

“And that would be a realshame,” he continues, pushing his dick now slower between your gummy walls, “because-“ thrust “I really-“ thrust “wanna-“ thrust. “give it to you.”

By the time he had stopped speaking his dick has fully bullied his way into your gushing pussy, stretching your walls impossibly.

The fullness felt so good, and you subconsciously sunk your nails into Niki’s back again.

He moaned and you loved the sound, “you like pain Niki,” you tease. Experimenting how much pain he could take as you continued with your administrations.

“Okay, fuck that,” Niki says, pulling out of you. You gasp at his sheer strength as Niki easily lifts you as he manhandles you so you’re – still on the bed – on your hands and knees.

You arch your back, laying on your forearms instead when his you see his phone right next to your hand on the bed.

Niki is pushing his dick into you again, “agh, Niki, you’re too big, mmhps, push it in slower.”

Listening to your whines Niki slows down, reaching for his phone.

“What are you doing?” you ask, feeling way too much pleasure to gather the strength to look back for yourself and see.

“Filming.” Is all you get.

You freeze, momentarily forgetting about the way his dick is stretching you.

“What?! Why, stop!” you start freaking out, Niki holds your body down, continuing filming.

“I don’t think so noona, now be a good girl for the camera,” he darkly says. A thousand thoughts are racing through your mind right now, heart beating erratically.

But sill, his thrusts are making your traitorous body heave in pleasure.

“C’mon fuck yourself on my dick pretty,” Niki riles you on, “be good and I won’t show this video to anyone,” he threatens.

You whine, but comply anyway. It felt humiliating pushing your ass into his still hips. Yes, it felt humiliating, but a dark and twisted part of you knew you have never before in your life been turned on more than you were right now.

“That’s right noona, show me how much you like this,” Niki praises you.

He stops videotaping, putting his phone away as he locks in again.

“Now it’s my turn,” he tells you before he starts pounding you.

You moan at the pace he set, feeling his dick bulge inside of you. When you look down you’re also able to see his dick disappear in your pussy, before seeing its shape bulging out of you.

You’re a moaning mess, when Niki speaks again, his voice hoarse, “c’mon pretty, show me how you touch yourself.”

Niki is full of praises when you do exactly what he tells you to. His thrust are starting to get more erratic and you can tell he’s close.

The thought of Niki spilling his dick and filling your pussy with his cum is enough to bring you to the edge.

Your walls squeeze and pulse around his dick and you hear Niki softly curse before you feel warm inside.

He just came inside of you.

“fuck I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I wanted to pull out but you were squeezing me so tight I couldn’t,” he apologizes, his low voice making you clench around nothing.

“it’s ok, it felt good,” you tell him shimmying your hips a little.

“Look,” you tell him when you feel his cum start to trickle out of you.

“Fuck, I think I’m hard again,” Niki tells you. He reaches for his phone and this time you don’t stop him.

He takes a quick picture and then he’s off. He comes back with a towel helping you clean up.

Niki doesn’t stay for longer, doesn’t offer to cuddle and just gruffly tells you “keep in touch.” And then he’s gone.

The guilt was consuming you. You couldn’t understand how this happened. Aware that the situation could be avoided if only you held back. You also blamed Niki to some extent.

Whatever feelings he has towards you, he should’ve squashed. Should’ve just left you alone, not walk you home, you could’ve managed by yourself. But you didn’t want to raise any suspicion with Jake.

Ugh. You wish you could just forget anything even happened.

And so, you do your best pretending. You go to the dorms as you usually would, and for the past two days, you haven’t seen Niki. You kind of were avoiding him to be honest, but Jake was your boyfriend.

And you would fix whatever you broke – even if Jake didn’t know about anything.

You two are curled up on his bed, on your second movie of the night when your phone dings. You were almost too comfy to move away from Jake, contemplating ignoring it. Laying down on his chest, him in a half-sitting position, with his back to the bed’s headboard.

The second ping forces the curiosity out of you, as you reach for your phone.

‘yo, come into my room real quick,’ it reads. Annoyed you contemplate leaving him on seen.

‘ik uve read this,’ when you still don’t reply he texts you for the third time in a row.

Dread fills your stomach when you read his message.

‘i think Jake would like to see our video…’

‘Niki stop, im not coming to your room,, delete the video’ you quickly type.

‘not unless you get your ass in here,’ he replies just as quick.

“who’s texting you baby?” Jake asks, trying to read the message over your shoulder.

“O-oh it’s nothing,” you try hiding our phone.

A little bit too quickly.

And now Jake knows something is up.

“Give me your phone,” he tells you and when you try to move from him, Jake gently holds you.

He softly calls out your name, and the difference between Jake and Niki is so clear to you now. Even clearer than it was before. Where Niki is rough, Jake is soft.

And the realization makes you sad, you possibly just gave something great up. Reluctantly you give Jake your phone.

He’s still looking at you with his pretty puppy eyes and you can feel tears swelling in your eyes.

Moving to the edge of the bed, you’re unable to meet his eyes.

After a moment of silence, Jake asks why is Niki texting you.

You can’t reply, not knowing what to say, that wouldn’t be an excuse. You know you fucked up and there’s no way to fix it.

“What video is he talking about baby?” Jake reaches out to you, hurt written all over his face.

“What are you doing? Oh my god, don’t text him,” you gasp, straddling Jake and trying to wrestle the phone out of his grasp.

You snatch the phone away from his quickly reading over the last sent message. From Jake to Niki.

Send me the video.

You really really hope Niki doesn't. But are left disappointed as you see he sent the video. Not messaging anything else.

Jake speaks again, his voice unlike anything you’ve heard before. He sounded empty and slightly mad. Not the cheerful and loving tone you were used to hearing him direct at you.

“Sit on my lap and press play,” he commands.

You move at a snail pace, crying as you climb into his lap. His warmth was comforting, but he did nothing else to calm you down. He didn’t pet you, didn’t hug you or tell you it was okay. Nothing like he was usually like.

You were both aware watching the video would change your relationship forever.

“C’mon press play,” Jake urges you, his back stiff and straight, mentally preparing himself for whatever he was about to see.

With shaky fingers you click on the video, your gasps and moans breaking the deadly silence in Jake’s room.

The video Niki took opens with a wide shot of your round ass. It was obvious Niki was the one filming, his big hand adorned with chrome hearts rings on your buttcheck, making it painfully obvious what was going on.

Niki pans down further, filming his dick disappearing in your pussy and reappearing in quick rhythm.

‘Be a good girl and fuck yourself on my dick,’ his voice rasps through your phone.

“We don’t have to watch this Jake-“ you start, locking your phone. When you turn to look back at Jake, he is peering down at you, brows furrowed.

“Text Niki to come downstairs.”

“No, why?”

“You’re going to text him. And when he gets here, you’re going to show him exactly who you belong to.”

Your breath stalls. “Jake…” you murmur, unsure if it's a protest or a plea. He doesn’t move, instead he continues watching you, silently daring you to disobey him.

“You’re not embarrassed you let him fuck you,” he says, voice low and steady. “You’re embarrassed I know he did.”

He reaches out—his fingers trailing up your thigh, possessive, not tender. “So let’s remind him—and you—what’s mine.”

There’s no room for negotiation. Not in the steel of his gaze. Not in the way your phone is already in his hand, screen glowing with the message app open, Niki’s name highlighted like a threat.

"Tell him to come downstairs. Don’t keep me waiting."

You reluctantly listen, fingers numb as you hit send.

Jake steps back, slow and controlled, eyes raking over you.

“Clothes off. All of them. And don’t cover yourself. You wanted him once—now he can see what he doesn’t get to touch unless I say so.”

You do as Jake says. Taking off your shirt, then shorts. Just as you start to hesitate Jake speaks again.

“Wasn’t acting so shy with Niki, did you? Did I say you can stop?”

Never seeing Jake like this before, you briskly unclasp your bra, your panties following in suit shortly.

“Good girl,” Jake murmurs as he stands in front of your small frame – sitting at the edge of his bed. You’re turned towards the door with Jake’s backside facing said door.

Jake’s look is intense as he towers over your sitting frame, his hand moving to your lips. The intensity and uncertainty of what he’s going to do to you sending bursts of shameful arousal straight to your core.

“Suck,” he tells you as he pushes a finger in your mouth.

You comply, applying pressure and letting spit pool in your mouth. You let it drool down your lips, knowing Jake likes it sloppy. He’s smirking down at you when you get interrupted.

Three short raps at the door are all it takes to bring stillness back into your body. You’re frozen as Jakes speaks, not looking at you. He calls out, calm as ever.

“Door’s open.”

It creaks open slowly, as if Niki isn’t sure whether this is a trap or an invitation. You don’t turn your head, you don’t dare. But you feel Niki enter. Feel the air shift when he sees you—seated, exposed, held still by the quiet command of Jake’s presence alone.

“Took you long enough,” Jake says, folding his arms. “Go ahead. Take a good look.”

There’s a silence that stretches, thick and stifling. You can sense Niki looking at you, his breath shallowing, hesitation and hunger caught in his throat.

“This what you wanted, Niki?” Jake asks, his voice dropping, dangerously soft. “You wanted to see my girl? Blackmail her into coming to your room?”

Niki swallows, and for once, he says nothing.

“She’s not hiding anything from me this time,” Jake continues, stepping forward and running a single finger down the curve of your spine. “She’s mine. Every sound she makes, every inch of skin you saw—mine.”

Then he turns to you, eyes sharp, unrelenting.

“Kneel.”

You obey, trembling in half fear and half arousal. You can feel Niki watching, his silence louder than any breath. The room is hot, full of something palpable neither of you have a name for. It feels like the three of you just stepped into melted honey, your skin too warm and sticky. Niki not much better, his shirt clinging to his body.

Jake on the other hand looks unaffected by all of this. Whatever hurt he was feeling before is gone – replaced with anger and jealousy.

Jake circles slowly, like a man preparing the next move on the board.

“Since you two can’t be trusted to behave, I’m going to make sure you both learn the difference between what you want—and what I allow.”

When neither of you speak Jake looks at the two of you.

Scoffing, he turns to Niki “thought you liked showing off, where’s the boasting now, huh? Or can you only manage that with a camera in your hands?”

He continues, “and you,” stepping in front of your naked and kneeling frame. Jake crouches down in front of you, your gazes’ level with each other.

“Since it seems I’m not enough for you, princess, I’ll give you two options. Do you want Niki to touch you too, or should he just watch?”

Your mouth drops open; you look towards Niki – still stood by the door and notice the bulge in his pants. Jake follows your gaze to Niki, and when he sees the strain in his pants, he lets out a humorless laugh.

“Of course. Pathetic.”

His hand drops from your chin as he rises, towering again—an authority neither of you can ignore.

“You don’t get to choose this time,” Jake says flatly, decidedly. His eyes are on you but his words meant for both of you. “You already chose when you let him put his dick in you once. So here’s how we are fixing this—he touches. I direct. You obey.”

Niki shifts, uncertain. You blink, caught between panic and heat, your body reacting faster than your brain.

Jake walks a slow circle behind you again, like a predator pacing around something already his.

“Strip,” he commands—not to you. To Niki.

There’s silence for a moment. Jake raises a brow.

“What? Too shy now? Didn’t seem that way when you were filming her moaning your name.”

Niki hesitates, but his fingers start working on his shirt. Jake watches him for a beat, then looks back down at you.

“Eyes down, sweetheart. You don’t get to watch him. He gets to watch you.”

Then, stepping closer, Jake speaks low and dark against your ear.

“Let him see what you sound like when you’re mine. Every moan. Every twitch. Every fucking breath—I’m in control of it.”

Jake steps around in front of you again, gaze sweeping over your body like he’s assessing his own work. Then he holds out his hand—not to offer, but to claim.

���Up. Hands behind your back.”

You rise on shaky legs, the soft weight of anticipation mixing with a flicker of nervous excitement. Your wrists slip obediently into place behind you, the subtle tremble in your fingers betraying the storm of sensations swirling beneath your calm exterior.

Jake moves with quiet confidence, producing a length of soft rope from the nearby dresser—he’s prepared, deliberate. Every movement he makes is controlled, practiced. When the rope wraps around your wrists, the binds are tight enough to hold, but never cruel—just enough to remind you of the control you’ve willingly handed over.

“Stay still.”

 Your breath catches slightly, a delicious mix of trust and vulnerability tightening your chest. Then Jake turns to Niki, his gaze sharp but dismissive—he doesn’t even look at him.

Then to Niki—Jake doesn’t even look at him.

“You’re going to kneel in front of her.”

A beat.

“Now.”

Niki drops to his knees, eyes flickering briefly to meet yours. There’s a complicated mix of emotion in his expression—submission, frustration, and something softer, like reluctant respect—before he lowers his gaze again, accepting his place.

Jake moves behind you, one hand on your shoulder to keep you steady, the other trailing slowly down your spine.

“Don’t get cocky,” he warns Niki, tone like ice. “You touch when I say. You stop when I say. You breathe when I say.”

He bends forward slightly, speaking so only you can hear.

“Let’s see if you still moan for him while you're tied up in front of me.”

Then, louder “start with her thighs. Touch nowhere else.”

“You think I need your permission?” Niki suddenly asks, hands reaching towards your thighs anyway.

Jake doesn’t flinch. “No. But you’ll wait for it anyway.”

Niki bristles at the command, the sharp edge of his impatience flashing in his eyes. He wants to touch you freely, to claim you without restriction. Yet, beneath that simmering arrogance, he understands the game—and for now, this small allowance is better than nothing. It’s a taste, a promise of control over your pleasure that stokes the fire in his veins.

His hand grips your thigh—soft, plush skin that responds instantly, the warmth of your skin sending a pulse racing beneath his palm. You’re on edge, every nerve heightened, every tiny touch magnified into delicious sensation. A soft whimper escapes your lips as Niki teases, fingers inching closer to that most sensitive place, his large hand enveloping your thigh as if trying to claim it whole.

“Spread your legs, baby” Jake directs. You comply immediately glancing to see him staring at the two of you. His hands crossed in front of his chest.

“C’mon play with her, I know you want to,” he taunts Niki. Who looks at him, gambling on whether or not he is going to listen to his hyung.

Before he could protest, Jake is stepping closer “either you listen to me or don’t get to do anything with her. Ever again.”

Jake taunts Niki, who looks up at him, his expression a mix of hunger and hesitation. He’s already obeying, fingers grazing your skin, but Jake’s eyes flash—something dark and possessive stirring beneath the surface.

Niki inches his face closer to you, the smell of your wet cunt pulling him in. He looks up at you and it’s enough to bring an ache to your core.

You try to grip his hair, frustrated by your physical restraint. Still, you shuffle closer to Niki, thrusting your hip into his face.

“Easy baby, I didn’t tell him he could taste you, yet.”

“Why not,” you pout.

Niki glances up at you, his fingers now slowly rubbing tight circles over your clit. You moan—needy, aching, bound and desperate.

Jake watches in silence, still and unreadable for a long, charged beat—his eyes narrowing just slightly, a storm building beneath his calm exterior. The air thickens, the power in the room shifting. Your loud moan and Niki’s satisfied smirk up at you is enough for Jake to decide.

“You’re not touching her. Not now. Not anymore.”

Niki’s fingers freeze, his breath hitching as Jake’s presence presses over him like a storm. The sudden denial sharpens the tension in the room, twisting frustration and jealousy into something raw and potent.

Jake straightens, stepping behind Niki, his voice dripping with cold satisfaction.

“You can’t even follow simple instructions. So now you get to watch.”

Niki’s jaw clenches, eyes dark with a mix of anger and reluctant submission. He sinks back onto his knees, forced to witness, powerless to touch the woman he craves.

You shiver against Jake’s hand, the mix of emotions swirling inside you—desire, frustration, and the undeniable thrill of being so completely claimed.

And then to you “get on the bed. Face him.”

You blink—Jake’s words hitting you just as your knees threaten to buckle.

Jake doesn’t repeat himself. He simply reaches down, grabs the rope between your wrists, and guides you toward the bed like it’s a leash.

“On your knees. Face him.” Being led like you're on a leash sends a thrill through you—vulnerable but alive, burning with need. You glance at Niki, his hungry gaze fueling the fire inside you.

Your knees threaten to give out, but you force them steady. The rope between your wrists pulls tight—a constant reminder of how completely you’re his. Jakes. The ache between your legs sharpens, pulsing with every breath.

The mattress dips beneath you as you climb up, spine straight despite the pulse between your legs. You position yourself the way he said. Spine straight, chest rising and falling fast. Every nerve hums, every touch imagined, your body aching for more. You obey—knees spread, wrists bound—eyes locked on Niki.

Jake turns to him with all the calm of someone deciding which tool to use on a disobedient dog.

“Chair. Now.”

Niki doesn’t move fast enough.

“Try me,” Jake snaps.

That does it. Niki rises and drags a nearby chair across the floor, placing it exactly where Jake points—just a few feet in front of the bed. Jake shoves him down into it with one hand to the chest.

“Back straight. Hands on your thighs. You’re not touching anything now.”

The room hums with heat—every breath, every glance charged with desire. Niki’s restrained but wide-eyed, his frustration mingling with a grudging arousal. Jake’s control is absolute, but it only fans the flames burning between all of you.

Jake takes a step back, admiring the setup. His girl tied, exposed, flushed.

You feel every pulse in your body—bound and exposed, every nerve alive, every ache delicious. Jake’s gaze sears into you, possessive and fierce, while Niki watches, caught between yearning and submission.

But Jake’s not done.

Jake retrieves a second length of rope, tossing it over his shoulder as he approaches the chair.

“You want to act like a wild dog, Niki? Fine. Then I’ll make sure you sit like one.”

In minutes, he has Niki’s wrists tied to the arms of the chair—tight enough to hold, not enough to hurt. His thighs are spread, dick standing proud for you and Jake to see.

Jake steps back into your view, eyes locking with yours. There’s a burning desire but also an edge of a warning.

“Let him watch what you sound like when I’m the one inside you.”

Then, his fingers tilt your chin up. His thumb strokes your lower lip.

“No pouting this time, princess. You’re gonna moan for me loud enough for him to regret ever opening his mouth.”

You dumbly nod, anticipating his next move.

“Lay on your side,” Jake softly instructs.

He has you positioned directly in front of Niki, but your eyes are only on Jake.

You watch him as he drinks you in, bare and tied. His eyes revealing a crazy need.

Jake finally strip, his dick is swollen, red. You watch as Jake wraps his hand around it, stepping towards you.

Opening your mouth in silent invitation, you let Jake push his length in. You try to take him in all the way but your awkward position on the bed doesn’t allow you to do so.

You gag, Jake cooing in mock sympathy.

“Too big for you? Didn’t seem to have a problem with Niki,” he tsks.

Still, he doesn’t try to force you down on his dick, to take more than you can handle. He lets you suck him for a little longer.

“Make sure my dick is nice and wet for you, sweetheart,” Jake tells you, before he is glancing at Niki.

“Isn’t she such a good girl?” he asks him, his hand tangling in your hair.

You shut your eyes in pleasure, Jake’s dick still in your mouth. And just like with his fingers in your mouth, you let spit spill down his length.

You open your eyes when Jake pulls his dick out of your mouth.

“Look all you want,” Jake says to Niki, voice calm. “You wanted her, didn’t you? This is what it looks like when she’s not yours.”

And then he’s kneeling on the bed behind you. He fondles with your ass, as he tugs on his dick a couple of times.

You whimper when he enters you, his length spreading you apart, enough to make you dizzy with pleasure.

Jake doesn’t let you savor the moment, doesn’t let you adjust to his size. This was your punishment after all.

His thrust are hard, forceful. Your body moves back and forth with his, the bed squeaks and you look at Niki.

So much precum is leaking from his swollen dick it almost looks as if he came already.

His dark eyes are on your tits and when he notices you looking at him, his dick twitches.

You moan, wanting Niki yet again and Jake sees it. He stops.

“Eyes on me. I said he gets to watch—not be part of it.”

It’s a subtle but brutal blow to both of you.

You whine, shuffling on the bed in a more comfortable position. You plop on your chest, hips still sideways on the bed.

You don’t mind the odd position, not when Jake’s hand is on your pussy.

“Baby, you’re gonna show Niki just how good and loud you get for me, aren’t you?”

Jake fucks you the way he knows you like it, his fingers on your clit.

“She’s so fucking responsive for me. You ever get her to shake like this, Niki? No—you just got lucky once. That’s all it was.”

Niki’s gritting his teeth, as he watches Jake touch you, “You really think this proves anything? She still wanted me.”

Jake scoffs, gripping your thighs angrily. He sets a faster, rougher pace as he continues fucking you.

And the pressure of it all, still feeling Niki’s burning gaze on the two of you, Jake’s husky voice in your ear, his dick hitting the right spot and his fingers playing with your pussy.

It’s all too much for you and Jake knows he. He smiles, a wild look in his eyes as he feels your pussy tighten around his dick. He has to make an effort to pull in and out of you, your pussy sucking him in, but he doesn’t care about the squeeze. His focus elsewhere.

“I bet it’s killing you, huh? Watching her fall apart and knowing you can’t do a thing about it,” he taunts Niki, his voice tight and strained.

Niki grows quiet and in more pleading tone he begs. He fucking begs.

“Let me touch her. Just once. I can make her—”

“No,” Jake immediately stops him. You clench around him and it seems to set Jake off.

He grips the ropes holding your hands together, as he fucks you while simultaneously pulling you by the rope back and forth on his dick

You still, body frozen and moans momentarily stopping as you feel the pressure inside of you release in crashing waves.

Jake, finally relenting, hip stuttering as he pushes his dick impossibly deep into you. His hips pressed tightly against yours.

You can literally feel his balls on your skin, can literally feel them twitch as Jake comes undone inside of you.

You shake under him once again. The sheer sensation of it all, enough to bring you to a second orgasm almost immediately after the first one.

After a beat Jake starts slowly, carefully pulling out.

“He’s drooling over there. Poor thing. Should’ve learned to follow orders,” he whispers in your ear as he glances at Niki.

Jake shifts behind you, his hand smoothing down your spine in a comforting manner. You can feel the raw ache between your legs, the mess he's left inside you, and the quiet pulse of another orgasm still echoing in your core. You rest your cheek against the bed, catching your breath, but your eyes drift to Niki.

He looks wrecked.

Chest flushed, arms tense against the restraints, a furious, desperate hardness still present. But it’s not lust in his eyes anymore, it’s defeat. Bitterness clings to him like sweat.

“I get it. You win. You’ve made your point. Just let me go,” Niki pleads, voice cracking.

Jake’s laugh is soft, humorless. He presses a kiss behind your ear before answering.

“You think this was about winning, Niki? This was a lesson. About obedience.”

You feel Jake’s fingers curl around your thigh possessively. His tone is still even, but the tension beneath it is unmistakable.

Jake tilts his head, continuing.

“You filmed her. You threatened her. And now you want grace? You’re lucky all I did was tie you to a chair.”

Niki looks away, jaw clenched. He doesn’t argue—maybe because there’s nothing left to say. The sight of Jake holding you, the sounds you made, the second orgasm that broke you… it was more than punishment.

You shift slightly under Jake, uneasy. Your voice comes out quiet, but it lands in the stillness.

“Jake… maybe that’s enough.”

He glances at you. For a moment, he says nothing. Then, softly.

“He doesn’t deserve your mercy.”

Your gaze flicks to Niki, “I know. But I’m not doing it for him.”

Jake studies you. Something in his gaze softens—just a little. Then he sighs and shifts, rising from the bed.

Niki tenses as Jake approaches.

“You ever so much as look at her without permission again, I’ll do more than take your freedom.”

He leans in, voice a whisper only Niki can hear “Next time, I’ll take your pride.”

And just like that, he begins untying him.

Niki stands slowly, the weight of defeat settling heavily on him. His wrists ache where the restraints bit into his skin, and every movement feels raw. Yet, it’s not just physical pain—it’s the sting of being humiliated in front of you both.

He doesn’t meet your eyes. Instead, his gaze flickers between the floor and the door, a mixture of bitterness, regret, and something else you can’t quite place—maybe a flicker of longing.

He dresses himself, as Jake unties you. Moving toward the door, the heavy silence between the three of you stretching taut. You watch him go, the door clicking shut behind him like a punctuation mark on the chaos.

You lean against Jake, heart pounding—not just from what just happened, but from the whirlpool of emotions crashing inside you.

Part of you is flushed with relief, Jake was mad yes, but not enough to break up with you. Still beneath that, a twisting knot of guilt and confusion in you tightens.

You had felt… something for Niki once, hadn’t you? Or maybe it was just the thrill, the dangerous spark of temptation. Now, watching him leave broken, you feel a strange ache.

Your fingers twitch, reaching up hesitantly to touch Jake’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“Jake… do you think he’s gonna be okay?” you quietly, hesitantly ask.

His fingers curl around yours, squeezing gently, a silent confirmation.

Jake’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the world shrinks to just the two of you.

The heat between you is fierce, but so is the complexity. You’re tethered to each other not just by desire, but by this raw, tangled web of control, loyalty, and vulnerability.

And somewhere deep down, you know this night has changed everything.

[billiesoxytocin]

parent-teacher conference

pairing: wanda maximoff x female reader

summary: reader is billy and tommy's new teacher. milf!wanda comes down for the termly parent-teacher conference and uh.... things escalate..... somehow.... a little heavy on the plot building too, i feel.

warnings: 18+ mdni. legal age gap. cheating-ish (but not really) wanda using her telekinetic powers on you. sliiiiiiight mommy kink.

word count: 2.6k

monday

"goodbye, my darlings," you hummed as you let go of the twins before they went running to their dad, as they always do.

or not.

you stood corrected when your eyes followed their movements, leading you to whom you thought was the most gorgeous woman you've ever laid your eyes on.

"holy shit..." you mumbled, your eyes wandering from her luscious ginger locks, to her green eyes and down to her legs that went on for days.

"wanda maximoff"

yelena's voice interrupted your thoughts as she smirked in your direction.

you nodded slowly, not even the least embarrassed that you were caught staring at your student's mother. you watched as the woman helped the boys into the car before she went in and drove away.

a breath left your system. you didn't even know you were holding your breath.

"she's–"

"hot, i know"

you turned to look at the other teacher, only to see her looking at you with a knowing smile.

"how come she's never picked up the boys before this? i mean, i've only been here for a month but still," you wondered out loud as you both started walking back into the staff room.

the blonde just shrugged, as she crossed her arms. "busy woman, i assume. ceo and everything"

your lips pursed as you nodded in approval.

damn. ceo, huh?

you cleared your throat as a thought crosses your mind. "will uh– she be here for the parent teacher conference this friday?"

yelena snickers in amusement, looking at you incredulously as she pushes open the staff room door. "i wouldn't bet on it"

a small pout of disappointment appears on your face as you unconsciously longed to see the redhead again. the 2 introductory minutes you had to see her simply left you yearning for more.

wednesday

"this is so unfair," tommy whined as he threw his bag onto the floor.

you closed the classroom door and turned to give him a glare. he sunk down in his seat under your stare, and you couldn't help the small smile that eventually made its way to your face.

you adored your students, you really do. you knew incidents like these were bound to happen when you took on the job of caring for 5th graders.

"keith went home with a bloody nose, tommy," you sighed as you took a seat on your chair across from the kid.

he looks down at his crossed arms, a look mixed between guilt and pride on his face.

"look, i know you didn't mean it. but i'm still going to have a conversation with your dad about this"

as if right on cue, two knocks were heard from the wooden door of the classroom. you rose an eyebrow at the kid before you walked over to the door, mentally preparing yourself to speak to mr vision.

"hello, thank you for– oh"

your breath hitched as you laid your eyes on the familiar redhead in standing in front of you.

"hi! you must be ms y/l/n, we haven't met"

oh god. her voice.

"right– yes. that's me,” you cleared your throat as you tried your best to dial down the surprise in your demeanour.

the woman flashed you a toothless smile that had you weak in the knees as she held out a hand.

“wanda maximoff”

your bottom lip was tucked behind your two front tooth as you fought the foolish grin threatening to appear on your face.

your shaky hands reached out to take her hand in yours for a firm hand shake.

“y/n y/l/n, but you already knew that– anyway please, come in and have a seat. wherever you want. though, beside your son would be ideal”

the woman let out an amused chuckle at your rambling as she walked past you, the scent of her perfume hitting your senses delightfully.

“fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you sucked in a breath to stabilise yourself.

get your shit together, y/n.

you hurried over to your seat behind your desk before shooting her another smile.

“i told mr vision briefly what happened on the phone, i’m not sure if you’re informed that little tommy here was involved in a fi-“

“it was barely a fight,” tommy groaned as he covered his face with his hands.

“no, no, tommy don't interrupt. let your pretty teacher speak,” ms maximoff says nonchalantly, her eyes never leaving yours and an almost sinister smile plastered on her face.

you felt heat rising to your cheeks at her choice of words, quickly breaking the eye contact before she could figure out just how flustered you were.

you cleared your throat for what felt like the tenth time since this conversation started.

“um- yeah, the other kid keith, went home with a bloody nose and a fuming mother. i’m not entirely sure what went down, so tommy– the floor is yours”

tommy lets out an exasperated, dramatic sigh before starting off his side of the story.

at first, you nodded in acknowledgement as you actively listened to the kid. but it was when you glanced at the woman beside him and caught her staring straight at you.

you blinked once, giving her a shy smile of acknowledgement.

she never looked away.

and neither could you, truthfully.

green orbs turned into red, and it was as if you were caught in a trance. you watched as her lips opened slightly, and suddenly you felt hot breath on your neck.

what. the. fuck.

your hands clamped down hard on your thighs in attempt to calm yourself down as your mind tried to fight both the intimidation and arousal that’s being caused by the redhead.

you flinched as you felt a sudden warmth surround your body. and you somehow knew it was the doing of wanda.

“jumpy little thing, are you?”

and suddenly it was cold again.

you blinked once, sitting up as you broke out from the trance you were in. refusing to acknowledge what wanda had just said to you, you turned to tommy to see that he had indeed finished explaining his side of the story and was staring expectantly in your direction.

"thank you for that, tommy. ms maximoff–"

"–wanda, please"

you paused and gulped, nodding once. it took every fibre of your being to look away from the redhead's eyes.

"tommy, wait in the car please. mommy will be there soon"

mommy will be there soon

you almost choked on your spit as you heard the words come out of her mouth.

why was that so hot?

you watched as tommy grabs his backpack and dashes out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

shit. what now?

"well, uh– thank you for coming down, mrs maximoff–"

the loud sound of the chair being dragged across the floor cut me off as the redhead stands up abruptly. she placed both her palms on your desk, towering over you with a menacing smile on her face.

"what did i just say, pretty girl?"

you couldn't help but feel small as you looked up at her nervously. you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

she lets out a small chuckle that made your heart do backflips. a hand reaches to push a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear, and you had to fight the urge to lean into her touch.

"perhaps mommy will be easier for you to say. what do you think?"

she takes a look at your stunned demeanor and snickers, her thumb softly swiping against your bottom lip.

it felt as though you couldn't move. and even if you could, you wouldn't even know what to do.

she lets out a little sigh before pulling away, turning around to grab her purse.

"i'll see you this friday?"

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, although your stomach was fluttering at the thought of seeing her again so soon.

"y-you're coming?"

she turns to look at you and winked, "only if you want me to"

friday

two knocks on your door snaps you out of the anxious episode you were in. a loud gasp left your lips, loud enough for the person on the other end of the door to hear.

"relax, it's just me"

you heard yelena's voice before the door was pushed open, revealing the smirking blonde.

you let out a relieved sigh, your thumb rubbing the sides of your temple.

"i take it that she hasn't shown up yet?"

you shook your head, a frustrated whine leaving your system. "she's killing me, lena"

she chuckles before taking a seat opposite you, where all the other parents have sat on throughout the evening.

"look, i get that she's a milf," she starts off and you looked up to glare at her, "but you really don't have to be this nervous. she's just like every other parent"

other parents don't put you in a trance and make you call them mommy, yelena.

before you could think of an appropriate response to yelena, the classroom door burst open. a ragged-breathing redhead came into view and you immediately felt your heart drop to your stomach.

"sorry, i'm late, dear"

yelena gave her a quick smile and a nod of acknowledgement before she got off the chair and left the room, closing the door shut.

"that your girlfriend?" wanda asks as she strides over to where yelena was once sat.

you snickered slightly, nervously as you shook your head. "just a colleague, mrs-"

you stopped yourself, remembering the situation you caught yourself in with the redhead just a few days prior. you were definitely NOT about to call your students' parent, mommy.

you cleared your throat, looking up at her to see her already boring her green eyes into you, a small smirk playing on her lips.

"just a colleague," you repeated yourself more convincingly this time.

wanda crossed her legs, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor as she leaned forward, arms resting on her knees. her eyes never left yours.

“you seem nervous, ms y/l/n.”

you blinked. “me? n-no, i’m–”. you paused, glancing down at your clipboard just to look at anything but her. “just a long day. lots of parents.”

“mm. and yet you seem to save the best for last.” her voice was low, velvet with mischief.

you almost dropped your pen. “i—i don’t get to choose the order, the slots are randomly assigned–”

wanda tilted her head, her red hair spilling over her shoulder. “relax, sweet girl. i’m just teasing.”

her smile deepened when she noticed the way your shoulders tensed at the pet name.

you managed a polite nod, flipping through tommy’s file like it actually mattered right now. like your heart wasn’t threatening to beat out of your chest.

“i can hear your heartbeat from here,” wanda murmured, eyes half-lidded. “so loud, so fast. does mommy make you nervous, baby?”

your pen slipped from your hand, clattering to the floor. you bent down, cheeks burning, but before you could reach it—

you froze.

you couldn’t move.

your body locked in place, suspended just an inch above the ground, arms mid-reach, knees slightly bent.

and then she appeared beside you, crouching gracefully, hand outstretched with a glimmering red thread dancing between her fingers.

“hmm,” she whispered, lips almost at your ear. “look at you. so tense. poor thing.”

her magic curled like silk around your thighs, slithering beneath your skirt, warm and electric and everywhere. your breath hitched.

“wanda—”

"don't worry, baby. i'm going to take real good care of you."

a red surge flowed through you, and you were gently but firmly pulled upright, seated back in your chair like a puppet on strings. the door clicked shut with a flick of her wrist. blinds twisted closed. lights dimmed.

"do you trust me, sweet girl?" her voice was low and soft, with edge to it.

you looked up at the wanda who was looking at you almost lovingly, and that itself made you nod without a second thought.

the air in the room has become incredibly thick. wanda stood before you, the red in her irises glowing brighter, more ravenous. her hand falls slightly on the side of your face, and she feels the slight tremble on your skin.

“nervous,” she husks, now whispering against your ear. “or needy?”

you whimpered.

her lips brushed your earlobe. “tell me to stop.”

you didn’t.

“that’s what i thought,” she purred, and before you could even process it, a shimmer of red dragged across your core — not fingers, but pressure, warmth, movement. like she was touching you with invisible hands, everywhere at once. your hips jerked, legs trembling, but the magic held you still.

“wet already? god, you’re so easy, aren’t you?”

your hips jolted slightly, and she chuckled. the sound was low and dark and entirely in control.

“look at you. trying so hard to be composed. miss professional,” she mocked gently as the magic grew bolder — teasing your clit with firm, precise circles, even as a phantom pressure slipped inside you, thick and curling just right. it felt too good, too overwhelming, and you couldn’t squirm away. couldn’t stop it.

“but this pretty pussy’s begging, isn't she?"

her mouth ghosted over your jaw. “look at you. tied down, stuffed full, and still trying to pretend you’re not enjoying it.”

you whimpered.

“say it,” she whispered, breath hot against your ear. “say you like it.”

“i—I like it,” you gasped, shame thick in your voice.

her tongue licked a slow stripe up your neck. “mm. that’s a good girl.”

your hand shot out, bracing yourself against the desk. “wanda—please…”

she hummed like she was considering it. “mm, try again, baby”

your eyes rolled back as you felt her magic, whatever, teasing you. you were so close, but it felt as if she was purposely holding you out.

fuck it.

"mommy, please..."

stillness settled over the room.

wanda stilled like a predator who’d finally cornered its prey — pleased, hungry, and so devastatingly in control.

she exhaled slowly, as if savouring the sound of it. her eyes fluttered shut for just a second, and when they opened again, the red glow had deepened.

“say that again,” she whispered.

you swallowed, voice barely steady. “mommy.”

a small, pleased laugh escaped her lips — not mocking, not cruel. proud. warm.

“there’s my good girl.”

with that, you felt it — her powers humming around your skin, invisible threads of scarlet that coiled like silk. they slipped under your clothes, not ripping or tearing, but pulling. adjusting. lifting. like she was unwrapping you, slowly, carefully. reverently.

the pressure increased — harder, faster, more. the magic rolled through you in waves, forcing you open, dragging you to the edge without mercy. and wanda watched it all unfold with a terrifying calm, eyes glowing as you writhed in her hold.

"come for me,” she commanded.

and you did.

the orgasm ripped through you like lightning, your cry strangled in your throat, thighs shaking as wave after wave hit you — magic holding you upright even as your body collapsed under the pleasure.

finally, the invisible bonds eased. your wrists dropped limp to your lap, and you slumped forward, breathing hard, trembling all over.

wanda brushed a thumb across your cheek, almost gentle now.

“you’ll be thinking of this all weekend,” she whispered. “and next time?”

she leaned in, lips barely grazing yours.

“you’ll beg for my fingers instead.”

then she turned, her heels clicking on the tile, door swinging open with another casual flick of her magic — leaving you ruined and dazed, sitting in a puddle of your own need behind your desk.

read: my sweet girl (part 2)

[catastrophicdisasters]

apologies, i'm still angry abt TUA S4

so, if we take out all of the blatant issues with the season (character assassination, 'resolutions' that create more plotholes than they solve, rushed scenes that make no sense, side plots that go nowhere, raymond vanishing for no reason, etc etc), what are we left with? let's see:

fatphobia (multiple jokes made about 'chubby Diego', when David just looks hydrated and healthy)

SA played for jokes (it's clear that Klaus having sex while possessed is supposed to be funny, but he's being held hostage and forced to do this for money, when we already know he didn't even want his powers back??)

cheating

problematic / borderline problematic age gaps (either way you spin it, either Five is physically 20-26 while Lila is likely mid 40s, or Five is mentally 70s while Lila is mid 40s; Aidan was 19 while filming, and Ritu was 34)

waiting for the actor to come of age before introducing a romance (we already know what some fans can be like over Five/Aidan, this will not have helped; I would be horrified if I found out the show runners had planned a romance arc with a coworked 15 years older than me and then waited for me to turn legal age to execute it)

sexism (i was reluctant to call it that but i also don't know what else to call it - Lila basically had her agency stripped away to become the love interest two men fought over; Steve wanted Five to have a romance and didn't care who with - use Lila simply because she was there)

complete disregard of character trauma (Klaus being buried alive despite it having been mentioned in every prior season that he was locked in a mausoleum by Reginald, including literally being left to die)

possible overstepping of an actor's boundaries (i've not been able to verify this, but i've seen it said that robert sheehan has requested not to do sex scenes?) (still havent been able to prove this; wasn't an issue with other roles so... hesitant to leave it)

actors requests being ignored (David asked multiple times if the Lila cheating sideplot was required, but clearly it went ahead anyway)

bad cgi

that awful vomit montage

Reginald (im not quite calling it abuse forgiveness but uh. it's not far off tbh)

i don't even know what to call this, but basically told the Hargreeves the abuse they suffered was their fault because they shouldn't even exist??

what did i miss? (im sure there's something)

from the replies:

the song in the ep3 dance scene uses a slur for romani people (and is also about a man and an underage girl)

SA dismissal (it's literally never addressed that Allison SA'd Luther last season. like, at all. everything's just a-okay now!)

more sexism (Allison's arc was also reduced to serving men; there's a single line to explain that Ray left, with no mention of why (i could go OFF about this but this post isn't supposed to be about mishandling of characters); even after everything, all her bonding with Claire comes through Klaus's storyline. also, Sloane is just gone and nobody gives a shit - Luther has one line and that's it??)

so many issues with consent (all of the girls shown in the place Klaus works look drugged / Klaus doesn't want to be there and doing any of that, it's all against his wishes / they all get their powers back against their wishes - although they do tell Ben that wasn't his choice to make / Klaus gets his powers back against his will when Allison is pressured to do it to save his life)

[myheadphonesareneverloudenough]

me when i’m the audiences’ least favourite character and finally get my redemption arc only to be reduced to a stripper joke in the finale. and the woman i would give my life for disappears and i don’t spend any time looking for her, and only reference her once to make someone else happier about their life.

me when i’m a well loved character that audiences love because of my spontaneous acts of chaos and caring soul, only to be shoved aside and have my whole life ruined in the finale.

me when i’ve had so much taken away from me in my life that i had to resort to becoming the villain of my own story just to return to the people i love, only for my love interest which i fought so hard for to be left barely mentioned in the finale, and his absence doesn’t do anything to motivate my actions.

me when i spend years on self improvement before getting sucked back into my dark, self destructive ways and barely any of my so called family notices. and then my entire arc is left unnoticed and does absolutely nothing to my character development.

me when i spend my whole life trying to protect my family and have a clear set of priorities and passions, and then i throw that all away when i see a chance to get with my brother’s wife who’s physically 20 years older than i am.

me when i'm practically sacrificed because the girl i love is is the key to the end of the world, and all i do is turn into a hideous creature without any real sendoff or significant death scene.

me when i've been arguably the most significant character for the whole show just to get zero character development throughout the finale as i'm separated from the rest of the main cast.

me when i was introduced later in the show because of my vital importance to the plot, only to have my personality stripped from me so i can cheat on my fan favourite husband with his brother.

me when i'm a squid that swallows a girl and no one cares to explain why.

[district4loading]

Blonde

Twice Sana x Male Reader

6K Words

Content Warning: angst, mentions of cheating, hate sex, possessive sana, breeding kink

Minors DNI

A/N: I've been wanting to write something about THIS^ Sana for a while now but I didn't really know where I wanted to go with the plot. That is until anon requested an interesting kinda angsty and toxic dynamic between reader and Sana.

From anon - "hear me out POSSESSIVE POWER BOTTOM SANA WITH A BREEDING KINK BUT WONT LET IT SHOW BECAUSE SHE’S A FUCKING BRAT AND YOU HATE HER BUT NOT HER BODY"

apologies to anon because I went a tad bit off script..

-

She's fucking blonde.

-

You don't know how you could ever allow Minatozaki Sana to ruin your life.

She's only five foot four and just a little over a hundred pounds but the heavy weight of her presence always seems to anchor you and keep you in her grip. You're broken up, you've been broken up for three months now. You made the decision to go no contact and completely cut her out of your life. It was the betrayal, the lying, the manipulating that acted as the final nail in the coffin, killing and burying any real love you had left for her. Now it's all bitter hatred.

It's taken you a while to get where you are. From thinking about her every day to only thinking of her maybe once a week. From not being able to listen to the songs you used to listen to together to merely flinching when they played on the radio. You weren't going to let memories of her turn the once normal parts of your life sour.

That's what you think right up until your doorbell rings.

You quirk your eyebrow and look up from your phone, wondering who could be at your door at five in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Package? No. Doordash? I wish. A friend? Maybe. You begin thinking of the possibilities as you walk the short distance from your computer to your front door. First you look through the peephole but you're only able to see your neighbors door. "Did I order something?" You mutter to yourself, checking your phone for a moment to see if you missed any emails.

Then you finally unlock your door and open it when you see that there was no email. You look down then you poke your head out, looking left then.. right. Your lips part and your eyebrows furrow as you try to process what the hell you're seeing in front of you right now. Or rather who. It takes you a minute to recognize that it's Sana and that's because something about her is different.

She's fucking blonde.

You're at a complete loss for words because you haven't seen or talked to her in months and now she's in front of you, staring into your soul with a fucking smirk on her face. She notices your gaze, full of confused awe and she thinks it's a good thing. "You like it? I did it for you" Her bottom lip juts out as she looks into your eyes.

"What..What are you doing here?" You begin to stammer as you ignored her question, having to remind yourself to breathe. She's just a girl.

"Are you saying I need a reason to visit my boyfriend?" She crosses her arms and you almost scoff, having half a mind to shut the door in her face. But you don't.

Instead, you make a face and shake your head "We're not together anymore Sana" She steps forwards and touches your hand and you almost immediately recoil and step back into your apartment "Don't touch me, I don't know where you've been." Sure it's a bit immature of you to say but after what she did to you, even feeling her hands on your body made you hostile. You want her nowhere near you.

"Seriously? It's been three months Y/n, get over it." She begins to get upset as if she had any right to. "I made one mistake and now you want to punish me for it forever! Listen he came on to me and-"

"You let him" You finish her sentence off coldly, your jaw clenching as the pain comes flooding back. That distinct ache in your chest, the turning in your stomach, she brought it all back and all she had to do was show up at your door. Your words stop her from talking and she gets this annoyed look on her face but before she can say anything else you actually gain a bit of strength and move to shut the door in her face. Sana puts her foot in the door before you do and stops you from closing it. "Listen, Sana I have a lot going on right now and the last thing I want to do right now is talk to you, just go"

You can't bring yourself to make eye contact and Sana sees it, she sees right through you. She's smart like that, she knows you like that. So she pushes herself through the door to enter your apartment because you'll let her. "Oh please, what else would you have going on besides jerking off?" She says it in that arrogant, sarcastic tone of hers. You open your mouth to protest as she walks in but then you close it and instead you exhale a frustrated huff.

"Why's that the first thing that comes to your mind?" You ask, moving to shut the door as you figured you could maybe say some hurtful things to her—get in her head and make her hurt like she made you. So you stand in the middle of your living room, keeping a good distance as you waited for her response.

"Well, you're a man and you haven't fucked in three months. You must be so pent up, baby" She uses that sweet, sultry tone to finish off her sentence, purposely pouting with those perfect lips right when you manage to take a glance at her face.

Fuck

If there was one thing about Sana? She was fucking sexy. The sexiest girl you've been with in your entire life. Now she has bleach blonde hair and you hate to admit it, as a matter of fact you wouldn't ever admit it, but she looked even hotter. It was such a shame, such a waste that her personality was awful. That she couldn't be trusted.

A little after you ended things you wondered what went wrong and you even tried to make sense of why she would do such a thing because you thought everything was going well. The intimacy was there, you saw each other all the time, there was never a day that went by where you didn't tell her you loved her and more importantly, the sex was hot.

You were ultimately perplexed until you had a good friend sit you down, slap you in the face and then explain to you that cheaters will cheat no matter what and that's probably when the hatred started.

If only he could see you now

A chuckle escapes your lips as you take a few steps forwards, tucking your hands in your pockets "What makes you think I haven't fucked in three months?" You give her a look, one thats calm and collected as if you had no care in the world, as if your heart wasn't beating out of your chest right now and this time, you get yourself to look at her. You watch as her cocky relaxed demeanor turned damn near rigid upon registering what you just said.

"But you haven't" Sana says the words in this matter-of-fact tone like she's expecting you to nod your head and confirm, but you don't. You almost laugh out loud, watching a vein nearly pop out of her neck at the mere thought of you with someone else.

Ironic isn't it?

You stay silent to build the tension, feeling a small boost in your confidence now that hers was noticeably shrinking. Now you can tell that her minds working and that's when you know you've struck a nerve. You try not to smile cause she's staring, watching every one of your moves like a hawk as you take a few steps closer to where she's sitting, right up until you're facing her. You manage to ignore her death stare and you only shrug "And if I have?"

That's when you actually get to appreciate her eyes. They're blue--or at least the color of her contacts are--and she's just staring. "Why the fuck are you playing with me?" She asks blatantly, the curse word leaving her mouth so aggressively, so seriously. Then you begin to lose your cool a bit, having a sort of flashback when you first found out about everything and that distinct feeling of betrayal came back.

The fucking entitlement was getting to you.

"You can't seriously be mad right now" You scoff bitterly and you cross your arms.

Sana stands up and you step back "Who?" Is the only word she utters and she's seething, visibly getting angrier the longer you make her wait.

"Sana, I want you out of my apartment. Now, or else I'm calling the cops" That's all you say before you turn around and walk off in the direction of your room, hoping she'd find her own way out.

You think that'll do it, you think that acting like you don't care and alluding to the possibility that you've fucked someone else would've did it for her.

You're wrong, because instead of leaving like you expect her to, Sana follows behind you closely "You mother-fucker, answer my question" You feel her small fingers wrapping around your arm and you wince when her nails nearly pierce the flesh.

You turn around to face her, yanking your arm out of her grip roughly. Then the annoyance on your face goes away and you freeze. Everything goes away because she's so close and her hand has found it's way on your arm again. She's mad at you, that's very obvious but she looks incredible and you notice how soft her hand is. "Who did you fuck? Tell me" She asks it again, more specifically this time.

"Sana-" You try to step back and the moment you do, your back hits the wall--because of course it does--and Sana doesn't miss her chance to corner you.

"Who?"

At this point you're looking into her eyes and you hate how pretty they are—how pretty she is. Then there's that familiar feeling in your belly. It's back, she still gives you butterflies. "I.." You start, and your words fall short almost immediately and just like that the power dynamic has shifted. All she had to do was get close. "No one" You relax your body, not noticing how tense you were until your shoulders dropped.

It's the truth, you haven't been able to do anything with anyone else since the breakup. It wasn't like you couldn't get laid, you had options but the attraction just wasn't there. Not for any other girl.

Her hand loosens on your arm, but she still keeps it there and her eyes sort of soften. "You're such an asshole, fuck" She hits your arm then huffs like she'd been holding a breath forever, stepping back from you to run her hand through her blonde locks.

"Oh really? Now imagine if I actually did fuck someone else? It would've felt really shitty wouldn't it?" You ask, that bitterness still so prominent in your tone. You couldn't help it, the irony of the situation is just too perfect.

Sana just glares at you and crosses her arms. For some reason you still can't bring yourself to move. You're still stuck there. "Will you ever be able to forgive me for that?" She asks and her demeanor stays the same. But you look into her eyes and you can see that she's genuinely asking like she wants you to forgive her, like she recognizes the pain she's put you through and she wants to fix it.

I don't know

"Sana...you fucking cheated on me, I've only been good to you... I just can't... why would you do that to me? How could you do that to me?" You ask the question that's been in the back of your mind for the longest time.

She comes closer and you allow it. You allow her to take your hand in hers as you stare into her eyes, waiting for an explanation, a reason. You need to know if it was your fault, if you could've changed anything, if you could've done something. "I was dumb and I wasn't thinking, baby" Her hand roams, reaching your face and she cups your cheek in her hand.

Shamelessly, you lean into it and it feels so warm, so soft. You hate it, you fucking hate her for doing this to you. The way she calls you baby makes those butterflies come back and you don't know how to feel. "Sana" You sigh and before you're able to say any words she's dropping to her knees in front of you. "What are you..." You start, but the words get caught in your throat when you realize what she's trying to do.

"I should show you how sorry I am" Her fingers hook over the waistband of your sweatpants and you let it happen.

Sana pulls them down, then your boxers go with it and you're soft. "I know you've missed me" She looks up at you as she takes your shaft into her hand. You exhale and look into her eyes but you don't respond to her. It's like you're outside of your own body, watching yourself in third person and you just can't bring yourself to do anything but watch.

Her soft hands are stroking you and it doesn't take long for you to get hard--less than a minute actually. "Sana" you whisper as she holds her fist at your base, then she opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out. When the warm, wet muscle comes into contact with your tip the pleasure overcomes you. "Fuck" your eyes are hooded and your mind's going blank.

You can't think of anything else, not even what she's done to you, nothing but her tongue lapping at your precum. She swirls it around then it's eventually in her mouth and her lips are so soft, pressed up against your shaft. You close your eyes and allow yourself to feel every filthy suck, slurp and lick. The sounds begin to echo in your hallway as everything gets sloppier.

Sana begins twisting her hand around the shaft jerking you at the base while she handles your sensitive head with her mouth. It feels amazing. She wasn't wrong, you missed this so fucking much. Off of pure instinct your hand is in Sana's hair and you're threading your fingers through the silky blonde strands. "That feels so fucking.. good" You bite your lip then take a sharp breath through your nose.

There's an eager humming sound that Sana makes but it's muffled as she continues to stuff you deeper into her mouth. She's going faster now, bobbing her head like she's hungry for you, like she's missed this too.

She moves her hand just so she can have your entire shaft inside and it slides down her throat so easily, no resistance as her lips touch your base. Sana holds it there and her eyes begin to water as she looks at you through her eyelashes then she fucking swallows. Your vision goes blurry for a moment and a guttural moan forces it's way out from your throat.

Then Sana drags back and it slips out of her mouth. She takes a breather, wrapping two hands around your shaft one after the other and she begins to stroke up and down. "I want you to fuck my mouth with this big, thick cock" She leans forward and flicks her tongue on the tip, catching more precum. she takes one hand and massages your balls throughly "Use me, and don't you dare fucking stop until you dump this load down my throat." She squeezes your balls for emphasis.

Your jaw almost drops "Sana" then she prepares herself. She opens wide and tilts her head back slightly. So inviting. Then she allows you to take your cock into your hand and out of hers. You guide the tip into her mouth and push your hips forwards using both of your hands to hold her head in place. It's probably not the best thing to do but you can't control yourself, not when she looks like this. Especially because she's asking for it, offering you her mouth to show you just how sorry she is.

You have to admit, it's one hell of an apology.

"Your mouth is fucking... insane" You grunt as the tight warmth of her throat squeezes your cock. She gags and you let it stay there for a bit, she's struggling now that you're in control but she won't tap out. Not like this. It takes a moment until she's breathing through her nose smoothly and that's when you begin to move your hips.

You pull out, then right back in, almost losing it at the wet sound it makes. You lick your lips then you actually start fucking her mouth, using it just like she told you to.

It feels so incredible that you don't miss a thing. Especially her occasional gag when you accidentally lodge yourself too deep. The sight is one for the books too, she keeps her big eyes open as you use her. What Sana can't say, her eyes will. They're so inviting, telling you to keep going, keep using, keep fucking—everything.

It's so subtle that you barely notice it, but Sana begins to undo the button on her jeans. Then she pulls the zipper down and she circles her clit slowly. She moans softly, eyes squinting as she touches herself while you use her throat. You expected it sooner or later because it's what she usually did when she sucked you off.

"Ah" You moan, feeling the heat build up in the pit of your belly "You have no clue... how ready I am to dump this fucking load in your throat. She only looks at you because she can't even nod her head, your hold is too tight. She moans a little and you try to control your breathing. It's getting erratic and every muscle in your body is burning up. "Yeah, just keep letting me use this... fuck i'm cumming" You give her a warning right before it happens.

You hold her head extra firm as you slide your member all the way in, her nose touching your base as your cock pulses and throbs. You're completely filling her mouth with it, painting the inside white with your hot seed while you grunt through your teeth. The feeling is only extraordinary and pleasureful and when you finally come down, you slide your cock out.

She loses her balance, leaning over as she gasps and chokes and holds herself up with her hand. You allow her to take a second to breath and when she's okay, you watch as she slides the other hand out of her pants and sucks on her fingers. Then Sana gets up on her two feet and pushes you against the wall again, she kisses you harshly then uses her hand to stoke your hard cock "Sir" She uses the term that never fails to drive you crazy, it's the implied authority that gets you "I want you to take this cock and fucking use me until you're done. It's my apology to you"

If you weren't completely blinded by lust, you'd push her off of you and tell her to leave because what she did is unforgivable and she can't just fuck for forgiveness. But her gaze is way to powerful and you're not strong enough to push her away. So instead you nearly growl and grab her wrist to pull her into your bedroom. You fling her forwards and she catches herself on the bed, climbing onto it as you pull your shirt off.

You walk towards the bed and yank her jeans off, then her panties and you motion for her to take her top off as you get into the bed and in between her legs. She's looking at you like she fucking needs it, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth in the sexiest way. As you go to line yourself up, you stop when you remember something. You may have lost your mind but you still have enough sense to reach into your nightstand and grab a condom.

"What's that for?" She gives you a look as she watches you tear the package open with your teeth. You don't answer her, you just continue on to put it on. Once it is, you prod her entrance but Sana pushes on your lower abdomen to stop you. "Y/n" The look in her eye is serious, like it's unfathomable that you're trying to use protection right now.

"Sana"

"Take it off, I don't have anything" She blinks "and you should know that" You can tell she wants to hit you right now, but she refrains from doing so.

"It's not cause of that, I just don't want to make any mistakes" You shrug when you know that there's no true reason other than to punish her. "Now it's either you move your hand or you get the fuck out and you never see me again."

Just like you expect, she moves her hand. "but I can't - it'll be harder for me to.. you know"

"You told me to use you and that's what i'm going to do. I don't give a fuck if you cum or not"

The words sound so coarse leaving your lips and it causes Sana to shut her mouth. Her lips quiver a bit and her eyes start to well up but she holds her glare. You never liked being mean to Sana and quite frankly if you're being real with yourself it's a blatant lie. No matter what you want to have her cumming, creaming and squirting on your cock until she can no longer think.

But you won't let her know that

You slide in and the first thing you feel is this unfamiliar pressure that squeezes around you tightly. It's something you're definitely not used to but you'd bare with it because you have to. Then maybe you'll think about it.

Sana exhales a pleasureful sigh before grabbing you by your arms to pull you in and you lean over her and begin to move your hips. She's so wet and warm, so slippery that you can just glide your cock in and out of her cunt without any resistance. Almost perfect. 

There's also this noise that you can hear, it's the obscene sound of her slick coating the latex each time you bottom out in her weeping pussy. You can feel it just enough that it has you biting your lip to stifle your own noises.

She's moaning heavily under you, although she said it'll be harder for her cum you know that she's still feeling the wide stretch that your thick cock faces her with. She's got her eyes closed and her hands clutching onto your arms as she wishes she could feel you bare with each vein scraping against her insides. It's something she's missed, but still something she'd have to earn back.

"Fuck - your cock.. it's so fucking -" A long whine follows and it's like she's completely forgotten whatever she was going to say in an attempt to tell you how good you're fucking her. She clenches and you feel it, almost shuddering when you do. Sana pulls your body down, slowing your movements as she gets her lips on your neck.

She sucks hard and you know she's leaving marks where she shouldn't be, you shouldn't let her but her lips feel too perfect on your body. It's all fucked up and you hate the fact that she's leaving deep red or purple marks on your skin. It tells you many things, one of them being that she still thinks you're hers and that you'll be hers forever. 

The thing is, she might be right to think that way because you don't move or flinch. You can't tell if you hate her or love her. "Sana" You murmur, feeling her cunt begin to squeeze you wildly, like it's trying to suck you in deeper. She's stopped the assault on your neck by now and your mouth is right by her ear so she can hear every grunt and moan you let slip. "This pussy feels so fucking perfect wrapping around me" You kiss her cheek and let your jaw hang open, your teeth scrape against the soft skin and you get a taste of the sweat that's built up on her cheek"

"T-The best you've ever had... right?"

You almost lose yourself and say 'yes' but you stop right before. She gets off on that, she always has. So you keep quiet and you quicken your pace. The moment she begins to react to the change in speed is absolutely priceless. Her high pitched moan, her mouth hanging open, the look of pure devastation in her eyes, everything. "Shit - please, please, please"

You hum and she wraps her legs around your waist, ankles pressing into you lower back. "Aw look at you. You're getting so close, Sana" You say it in a smug tone, hot against her ear. "What happened to having a hard time cumming?" 

"I'm - I'm - I'm - I - Fuck" She sputters "Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop" A crackled whisper escapes her lips and you have to bite back a smirk. Does she seriously think she has any power right now? Is what you ask yourself before doing something so villainous, you think she might actually cry or curse you out.

You slip your cock out of her wet heat and the guttural sob that escapes her throat is nothing short of perfection. The raw emotional grief in her voice makes you feel all too powerful and it might make you even more fucked up than she is. "Fuck you!" Her legs loosen around your waist and she kicks her legs at you and you stop her by grabbing her legs, laughing a bit in response. "I fucking hate you" She huffs.

With a smirk on your face, you grab her by the hips and in a swift motion you flip her over. You straddle the backs of her thighs, remembering just how much she loved to be pinned and fucked like this. With her face buried in the sheets and her body being forced through the bed. So you slide your cock past her warm ass cheeks and back into that sopping cunt. "Fuck" She drags out as you push yourself to the hilt, knowing that this angle never failed to fuck her up. "You better fuck me hard, fuck me and make me fucking cum on your cock. I fucking need it"

"Not even a please?" You snicker while you prepare to actually wreck her. Despite her crude language you can tell she's so fucking horny and needy for you. Ready to cum all over your fucking cock and be used until you release your load anywhere you want. 

Definitely not inside

"Fuck y-" She can't even curse you right because you've decided to shut her up by completely bottoming out in her cunt. What cuts her insult short is nearly a scream that could probably be heard by everyone on your floor.

You lean over and plant your fists in the mattress for better leverage. It allows you to plow into the soft cushion of her ass so easy, your cock angled perfectly to jab into that spot that can turn her dumb in no time. Her moans go into that higher pitch and you watch as her hands search recklessly for something to grab. The sheets do just the right job.

"Sana..." You grunt "This cunt is fucking creaming for me" You look down, just to see how the condoms been completely painted white with her sticky substance. 

Her walls start to convulse and clench erratically and she's right there, just so close to letting herself go. You keep your pace, deciding that you'll be nice and let her cum because this'll be a day she'll remember for years no matter where she ends up, or rather who she'll end up with. 

Cause it can't be you, right?

You don't think about it too much, you're focused on the mindless murmuring that you can't even begin to make out because she's doing it with her face pressed into the bed. Her back arches and her ass raises into your thrusts and that's when you know it's happening. "Already sweetheart? we've just switched positions" You snicker and she doesn't even have the brain power to curse at you because she's right fucking there.

Sana gasps and her upper body presses deeper into the mattress while her ass just chases your cock, like she needs it deep forever. "Cumming - I'm fucking - God" She groans and shudders through the remainder of the orgasm. Her entire body is feeling the waves, the shocks, everything as she cums and that's how you just know it was good.

She stops and her body lays flat on the bed again so you begin to move your hips. "Now it's my turn" You grunt as the heat builds up in the pit of your stomach "Where do you want it Sana?" There's nothing she says, she just moans weakly into the sheets "Want my load on your back?" No response "Want it in your mouth?" Nothing "Want it all over that pretty face of yours?" You continue and it's almost as if she doesn't really care where you cum. 

Or thats what you think until "Or... do you want me to pull this condom off and fuck my cum deep into this raw cunt" She clenches tight, and you almost lose it right then and there.

"Where... ever - fuck - you want" She does her best to turn her head and look up at you, those eyes telling you that she wants to be bred and claimed by you. But she doesn't say it, it's like she can't bring herself to. Or she just won't. 

Either way, you're not giving her what she wants.

It takes you a few more strokes and just a bit of concentration because of the condom but you're just about ready to burst. You think about it for a moment, getting careless and fucking a baby into her. Maybe you'll raise it together, maybe it'll mend your broken relationship. You seriously think about it, knowing that she probably isn't on any birth control and you could actually breed her, right here, right now. This pretty thing thats under you, writhing and moaning would be tied to you forever if you had a kid together.

"Fuck" You gasp as you pull out with swiftness, peeling the condom off before struggling to get to where her face is. Sana opens her mouth weakly and you get your cock into your fist the moment it all happens. You're cumming, almost keeling over when the ectasy hits you like a brick. You look down and it's absolutely covering her, some getting in her mouth. You make sure to pull the rest of it out, smearing the last bit of white on Sana's face.

She swallows what she caught in her mouth and gives you a smile "I hope you take it into consideration, what with my apology and all"

"Take what into consideration"

"Taking me back"

Yeah right, Hell no

-

Maybe you aren't to be taken serious, maybe no one should ever take you serious because you obviously can't even take yourself serious. It's only been a month since that day with Sana. How the fuck does she keep ending up in your bed, every. fucking. night. 

She's like a fucking disease, you can't get rid of her.

You tell her you hate her, she giggles and says she hates you more. You tell her to get out, she stays and you end up fucking. You tell her you don't love her, she kisses you. It's like she knows you're full of shit, like she knows you. 

Each day she shows up at your door she proves that theory right. 

It's no surprise that you're in love with her, you've come to terms with that recently. But somehow, this new look of hers has really been wrecking you. It's the way she rocks the bleach blonde hair with such confidence. Like she knows whenever she walks into a room, all eyes are on her and they don't stop staring until she isn't present anymore. 

She loves the attention and it kills you. You first witnessed it when she convinced you to take her out a week ago. The waiter couldn't keep his eyes off of her and it didn't help that she wore a dress that had her tits practically spilling out. Instead of telling her to cover up, you ended up punching the guy right in his face.

Then you took Sana home and fucked her on your couch cause you were too impatient to make it to the bed. You needed her to know she was yours in that immediate moment.

It wasn't always like that before. When you could actually trust her you couldn't give a fuck about what she wore or how she wore it, cause you knew that nobody else could have her.

Now that that's not so clear anymore, you need to make her aware of it every time.

It's maybe one in the morning and you're fucking her again. You've got her bent over, on her hands and knees in your hallway. Again, you couldn't make it to the bedroom because when you got here you pushed her against the wall and began kissing her. Then you had her pinned as you fucked her into the wall and somehow you both sunk to the floor.

"You've been such a good fucking girl for me lately" You mutter as you bring her to the brink of her next orgasm "Keeping yourself all nice and untouched for me"

"All for you sir.. I'm yours I'm fucking.. yours" There's a shudder in her voice and in no time "I'm gonna fucking - fuck!" She warns, her needy body meeting each one of your thrusts. It's like you've got her addicted to you and she can't help but need your cock deeper inside.

A harsh slap lands on her ass and she yelps "Do it Sana, cum for me" You grunt and it takes a moment for her to get through this one because it hits her like an 18-wheeler. The way she freezes like a deer in headlights then falls apart like she's having a seizure. She's cumming so hard that you think of asking her if she's alright. But she's more than alright, the way she fucks her cunt on your cock tells you that much.

You're not wearing a condom and you know it's stupid and reckless but you went through all of them and when you reached for one, there weren't any left. Sana looked all pouty, telling you that you could always just pull out while also reminding you that she's been good and that she's just so fucking horny and needy for you that nothing else could satisfy her that wasn't your cock going so deep down her cunt that you hit her cervix. Maybe not literally, but you catch the drift.

Anyways the idea of pulling out starts to seem more and more impossible as you allow yourself to enjoy the feel of her velvety walls. The way they squeezed onto you all slick and wet and warm. It felt almost too good. You have to slow down, cause if you keep going at this rate you might... 

That's not good

"Gonna cum soon" You announce and you don't even know where. There's only one thought in your mind. Fill her, fill her, fill her. It tells you and your entire body begins to tremble. "Sana, be a good girl and tell me what you want" You hunch your body over hers because if you're going to do this, you need to hear it from her. She presses chest into the floor, now she's face down ass up. She doesn't say anything and you're only getting closer so you fist a handful of those blonde locks. She moans loudly but that's not enough "Say it Sana, or else you're not getting fucked for a month"

You know that'll be just as much torture for you as it is for her but you're hoping to God that of all things she knows about you, she doesn't pick up on that. "Fuck okay! I want you to fucking breed me... need your cum deep in my fucking cunt" She finally breaks and just like that your cock begins pulsing. You loosen your grip on her hair as you use her cunt and fuck your load deeper.

She clenches like she's trying to milk you for absolutely everything you've got "Thank you" She whispers.

-

"So.. you came in me"

"Yep"

"And all of a sudden you actually want us to try again? No bullshit"

You nod your head, trying to make sense of it all in your own head. You don't know why exactly you're taking her back, nor do you know why you're climbing into bed with her. "All I know is that... despite what you did to me, I still love you. I love fucking you, I love cuddling you and I love waking up next to you" You sigh cause you know it's pathetic and she doesn't deserve it but the way she holds you and runs her fingers through her hair has those butterflies coming back.

Maybe you do know how you allowed Minatozaki Sana to ruin your life

[vinnyvamppp]

HEAR ME OUTTT

You should write for Nolan Grayson, the drought for fics w/him are very much real 😭

The Replacement PT 1

NOTE: I'VE BEEN WANTING TO BUT THE AMOUNT OF MARK GRAYSON OR INVINCIVLE VARIANT REQUESTS I HAVE ARE MAKING MY FINGERS CRAMP. With that being said, I present to you:

Synopsis: Earth has made him comfortable. Weak, even. His half-human son may never be strong enough to carry the Viltrumite legacy, and his pet or wife is a distraction he can no longer afford. But you offer him a solution: a true heir.

Warnings: Considerations of Cheating, Drama, Childhood Friends, Changes to Plot For Convenience, Pre-Invincible Timeline, Nolan's Beginnings To Conquering Earth, AND DW HE STILL HAS HIS LOVING FAMILY. Word Count: 1,493 (PART TWO)

Omni-Man/Nolan Grayson x Fem!Viltrumite!Reader

The air was thin at this altitude, but it was nothing to you. Standing on the snow-dusted peak, your loincloth barely moved in the wind. The desolate breeze calming the maelstrom of thoughts whirling about. Below, the world stretched in all directions, so vulnerable, so fragile.

"You've been here for too long, Nolan." Your voice was measured, but sharp enough to carve through the silence. Across from you, Nolan Grayson stood with his arms crossed, his expression impassive, but you knew better. He had always been good at masking his thoughts, but you had centuries of experience reading him. His stance, the way his fingers subtly tensed, told you everything.

"I don’t need a reminder," he replied, his voice laced with something close to amusement. "I assume you didn’t travel across the galaxy just to lecture me?" You took a step forward, tilting your head. "No. I came because your absence has been noted."

His brow twitched, just slightly. Even after all these years, Viltrumites hated the idea of being monitored. "They sent you?" You scoffed. "They don't know I'm here." Now, that got his attention. His eyes, those sharp, calculating things, narrowed as he studied you. “And why would you withhold that information?”

"Because I know you, Nolan. Better than they do." You folded your arms, mirroring his stance. "I know why you’re hesitating." For a moment, he said nothing. You let the silence stretch between you, let him wrestle with the implications. It wasn't hesitation from weakness. No, that wasn’t Nolan. But sentimentality? Attachment? Those were cracks in his foundation, and cracks were dangerous.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose. "You think I’ve gone soft?" He asked, your lips pursing momentarily in thought. "I think you’ve gone comfortable," you corrected, your gaze flicking toward the horizon where a city pulsed with artificial lights. "This planet is changing you. The longer you stay, the harder it will be to finish what you started."

He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "You sound like Thragg." That name sent a flicker of irritation crawling down your skin. "Thragg wouldn't have given you the courtesy of a conversation." His amusement faded. He knew that was true.

You took another step, closing the distance between you. "You need an anchor, Nolan. A reason to return to Viltrum when this mission is complete. And her—" your lip curled slightly as you referenced the human woman, Debbie, "—is not it." His eyes narrowed. "Careful."

"Don’t pretend you care," you retorted, undeterred. "A convenience? What is she to you, Nolan?" Silence. “She’s nothing compared to us—compared to what we are.” He began his admission, “But I allowed myself to pretend otherwise. A weakness. She is nothing more than that, and she never was.” His fingers twitched at his side, mulling over the betrayal in his words.

"You may think you've bought yourself time, but Earth won't make you stronger, and neither will playing house with a human," you continued. "But if you were to have a child with me—one who could be raised with the strength of our people, not poisoned by human frailty, you wouldn’t have to do this alone." Nolan’s jaw tensed. “Mark is already half-Viltrumite.” "Mark is half of something weak," you countered. "Would he ever be allowed to stand among our kind? Would you? You know the truth, Nolan, when the time comes, he will be an obstacle. She will be an obstacle." His silence was damning.

You let the weight of your words settle. Then, more softly, you added, "You’re too valuable to be cast aside, Nolan. But without proof of your commitment, they will find someone else to finish what you couldn’t." His eyes met yours again, and for the first time in years, you saw something shift behind them.

"You can still have what you came here for," you pressed, voice just above a whisper. "A family. A legacy. But one that ensures your survival when all of this—," you gestured to the planet below, "burns." For the first time that night, Nolan didn’t have an immediate response.

And that was the first sign that you were winning. The wind howled between you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then— "I need time to think," Nolan said finally, his voice low, rough as he remained perturbed. "You need time to think," you echoed, tilting your head slightly. "Very well. But let me give you something worth thinking about, Nolan."

His eyes flicked to you, wary. He had always disliked being cornered, and yet, here he was, trapped by words instead of fists. You turned away from him slightly, eyes tracing the horizon, as if lost in thought. Then, your voice softened. Not weak. Never weak. But calculated. Controlled. "He needed time too," you murmured. Nolan’s brow furrowed. "Who?"

"My husband."

The words alone felt like steel being drawn across a whetstone—sharp, deliberate in preparing for something deeper. "You never spoke of him," Nolan said after a pause. "Because there was nothing to speak of," you replied. "Not anymore." You let the silence stretch, allowing the weight of your words to settle before continuing.

"He was strong, Nolan. Stronger than most. He had earned his place in the Empire a thousand times over. Conquered dozens of planets before we were even paired." Your voice remained even, but there was a restrained edge beneath it. "And yet, for all his strength, for all his victories, he died." Nolan's eyes darkened, watching you carefully. "How?"

You exhaled sharply through your nose, gaze still locked on the distant city below. "An inferior race." The words dripped with disgust, as if merely saying them left a foul taste in your mouth. "A species that should have never been a threat. But they were desperate. And desperation, as you know, makes lesser beings reckless."

Your fists clenched at your sides, but your voice remained steady. "They used weapons he hadn't accounted for. They didn't fight—they ambushed. A tactic born from fear, not strength. A coward's strategy. And he paid the price for underestimating them."

You turned back to Nolan now, expression tense. "I watched as they burned his body. As the remains of a Viltrumite were reduced to nothing by hands that should have never been capable of harming him." His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

And so, you pressed further.

"You understand now, don’t you?" you asked, voice low. "It doesn't matter how strong we are if we allow weakness to fester. If we allow ourselves to hesitate." A pause. "You think I’m hesitating?" Nolan’s voice was quieter this time, as if testing the words himself.

You gave him a pointed look. "I know you are. We have been friends for centuries."

For the first time since your arrival, he didn’t deny it.

A victorious chill crawled up your spine.

"I thought of you after he died," you admitted, stepping closer. "Among all the warriors of our kind, there are few I would have ever considered worthy. But you, Nolan... you have always been different." Something flickered in his eyes. It wasn’t pride, not yet, but it was something dangerously close.

"You are one of the strongest among us," you continued, voice soothing. "You were sent here because of that strength. But even the strong can fall, Nolan." Your words took a sharp turn, more insidious. "Do you think our kind will mourn you if that happens? Do you think they will even blink if you are slaughtered by an inferior race? You know what they will say?"

He didn’t answer. But you did.

"They will say you were not strong enough." The words hung between you, suffocating. Nolan’s jaw clenched, his fingers twitching at his sides. You could feel the trepidation building within him, the conflict. Then, you leaned in just slightly, gaze unwavering. "But you are strong enough, aren’t you? Strong enough to ensure your legacy does not die on a planet of insects."

Silence.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. "If we do this," Nolan said finally, voice low, measured. "It is not because I need your help. It is because it is logical." A slow grin tugged at the corner of your combined lips. "Of course."

He exhaled, running a hand down his chin, and for the first time, he looked… unsure. "I’ll contact you soon." The words left his mouth slow, deliberate. But even as he spoke, his gaze lingered on you for longer than it should have. There was no hesitation in his stance now, no rejection in his posture. Only consideration and calculation. He was already deciding. Already choosing, even if he refused to say it outright. And that was enough for now. "Take all the time you need." Then, with one final glance toward the city below, you added, "But not too much. We wouldn’t want you getting too... comfortable again."

And with that, you disappeared into the night, leaving Nolan alone in the skies with the weight of his thoughts.

Should I do a part 2? I just like being messy on here.

Materlist

[shewrites444]

pretty [ art donaldson x babysitter/age gap! reader smut ]

[ Hiii me popping up on here for the first time in forever lmao. I've been on a Challengers kick lately, let me know if I should write more on Art perhaps. :D ]

WC - 3.5k (unedited story, so apologies for any errors)

[ Summary - The reader and Art have been having an affair for the past few months after she became the Donaldsons' occasional babysitter. A lot of porn with a slight plot. ]

[ Warnings - Age gap (reader is college-aged, art is in his like mid-thirties), cursing, cheating/affair, oral (m&f receiving), dirty talk, tiny breeding kink mention, unprotected sex ]

-

It's not like it mattered to Tashi, well, anymore, what her husband did in his free time. A year or so ago, when Art found out about Tashi and Patrick's on-going affair at their challenger, he felt crushed, defeated, sickened, all emotions jumbled into one component, knowing what his wife was doing behind closed doors since they were teenagers. No amount of "I love you's" could make her drawn closer to him, no amount of care, compassion.. nothing. I mean, it would only make sense that an affair that lasted over ten years, especially with his former best friend and teammate, would fundamentally fuck up their marriage.

Tashi tried to fix it, she really did, by cutting off all connections to Patrick, promising Art she'd be better for not only him, but their daughter, Lily, and the careers and finances they shared together. She knew all the logic behind an affair was unjustifiable, and it made sense to fix a marriage with someone who genuinely cared for her and the family, careers, and finances they created together.

Art stopped playing tennis that year, and like they had promised each other months before, decided to work on the foundation full time, and with newer responsibilities, came the need for a sitter that wasn't only one of their parents when Art had a game or two.

That's where you came into the picture.

You were an undergraduate student at NYU, about to graduate in the spring with a heavy need for any sort of finances to help you afford your rent the rest of the semester. Knowing that your niece was in class with Art and Tashi Donaldson's daughter, that set up a fairly easy connection to a potential babysitting gig. They were millionaires, hell, maybe even billionaires at this point, so you'd be bound to get a pretty solid paycheck.

You were in luck. They needed an occasional sitter on the weekends, and a handful of nights during the week, and given that they both knew your sister, you were already trusted. Easy money.

You got along with Lily pretty well, too. Not to mention the Donaldsons were kind to you as well, and the amount of money they gave you for watching their one daughter, who was pretty self-sufficient other than needing to have a bedtime story or two read to her each night, was fucking ridiculous. Not like you were rolling in dough, but they surely overpaid you. Not like that was a problem for either parties, though.

Overtime, you talked more to Art when Tashi was starting to have more meetings, interviews, and other miscellaneous tasks that required her attention as they expanded connections to the foundation. At first, it was a bit awkward, given that when babysitting, usually the dad was a bit more absent, or quiet, but he warmed up to you after a few nights. He'd ask you about how Lily was, even ask you about school, or what you wanted to do after graduation, pay you, and that was really it. It was simple, really, until it wasn't.

And here you were, months later, standing at the small kitchen island in your apartment, which was, frankly, a bit inhumane in size for an inhabitant, but it's New York City, and it's what you could afford, even on the Donaldson's payroll. You had a small salad bowl in front of you, sliding the grape tomatoes off the cutting board in your hand into the mixture, as no other than Art Donaldson stood next to you, the tongs in his hand as you handed him the bowl.

Playing house with a married 35-year-old man wasn't on your list of things to do this year, but it's not like you were complaining.

From an outside perspective, it felt wrong, but to you, it felt just right. It was cliche, and well, bad, being apart of an affair for a multi-millionaire last name, and a man that was married, with a whole family, but you tried not to think about it.

Did you love him? You had never been in love, so you didn't really know, but probably not, at least not yet. Did he love you? You didn't think so, but he definitely favored you more than his own wife, and you weren't even thinking that because of the situation, you genuinely knew he preferred you.

"You want me to put a show on?" Art asked softly, glancing down at you as you walked over to the kitchen, rinsing off the cutting board. His eyes averted to your ass, glancing at the sweat shorts that hugged your figure, before looking up to meet your eyes when you turned around.

You knew he checked you out, it's not like that came to a surprise. Art was sweet, really, but it's not like he wasn't a sexual man because he was older. If anything, that made his sex drive higher. You shrugged, sliding past him to open the fridge and grab the salad dressing. "Eh, I'm good with whatever."

You can hear him set the bowl down, and his free hand travel to the side of your waist, over the thick cotton of your sweatshirt, as you grin to yourself, shaking your head while you set the dressing on the counter. "Shouldn't we eat first?"

"Just missed you today." Art muttered, lightly turning you around to face him before giving your forehead a light peck. "Haven't seen you all week, pretty."

Your cheeks redden, and the familiar pit in your stomach follows directly after. Fuck. Art was older than you, yes, but an emotional man at the fact of it, but he was so fucking needy. He'd come see you, not even two or three days between, and act like it had been two months without contact. He'd lay his head on your chest, play with your fingers, tell you how much he missed you, all because you hadn't seen him in not even a week. From the outside, that probably looked pathetic, a married man, who had a wife and child at home, coming to a college-aged girl's apartment, not even the size of his bedroom, cuddling her like he was a teenager. It was fucking toxic, actually, but again, you tried not to think about that part of it.

"Well, why don't we eat, and then you can show me that you missed me later, hm? That okay?" You step back slightly to look up to him, reaching forward to cup his rose-tinted, pale cheeks. You lean up to kiss him, pulling away to slide out of his embrace, your eyes following the meal you had just made together.

Art was pouting, basically, as he frowned at the corner of his mouth, walking towards the other side of you and gently taking the tongs out of your hand. "I'd rather show you now. You can't tell me you don't want me to fuck you right here, sweetheart."

"Art." You purse your lips together, shooting him a glare. You could pretend to be annoyed all you want, but he knew you weren't aggravated with him. It's not like you didn't enjoy him fucking the shit out of you on your kitchen counter, or anywhere, matter of fact. He'd fuck you right in your car when he walked you out of his house after babysitting, he didn't give a fuck. He liked you a lot, way more than he should, even in the given scenario of an affair.

"What?" He tilted his head, looking down at you with that stupid cheeky-ass grin he'd always give you when he knew you were fibbing. You wanted him, obviously. Sometimes, he didn't know why you even pretended to act like you didn't want it right then and there.

Art really wasn't even the most dominating guy, but if that's what you wanted, he'd put on a fucking show. He'd bend you over and fuck the shit out of you if that's what you wanted him to do. He'd make it hurt, if that's what you wanted him to do. But again, he liked you, so he'd never actually hurt you.

You glance down between you, the obviously erection in his sweatpants pointing right at you. You look back up to him, that look of pure want on his face so obvious. You glance to your bedroom. You don't have to speak, he already knows, and he listens so fucking easily.

The chemistry between the two of you was a fucking pain sometimes. You'd be so wet when he'd do as much as touch your back, it would piss you off sometimes, and you would think that after fucking him for a few months now, that feeling of freshness would go away, but it didn't.

You'd do more than just fuck, too. If he wasn't such a public figure, he'd take you out on real date, probably try to pursue you in some way if he wasn't married, and just a more normal-status guy, but that wasn't the case. He would make efforts though, buy you flowers sometimes when he'd come over, order the two of you something to eat, whether it was Chinese takeout or a 5-star review restaurant steak, he didn't care. He just wanted to please you, the best he could. All the time.

Right now, his definition of pleasing you was gesturing for you to lay down on your twin-sized bed, and plant his face between your legs, eating your pussy until you were begging him to fuck you with something other than his tongue.

You wiggled yourself out of your shorts and underwear in one, Art assisting you by pulling them off your ankles and onto the wooden floor. He spread your knees apart, kneeling on the hard ground before his hot breath was planting kisses between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

You gulp, averting your attention to his mouth. You watch him get closer, and you can only gasp when he latches onto your clit. You feel him move his hand onto your thighs, wrapping around them from the back and holding your sides, his pale, calloused hands digging into your skin. It didn't hurt though, not at all.

"Oh my god." Leaves your mouth without a single thought. Art knew exactly how to please you. "Art, you're gonna make me cum before you even fuck me."

He looked up to you, lips still pressed against your pussy, his eyes locked with yours for a moment, before he focused his attention to your body again. He didn't care. Guess that was the point.

You shake your head in disbelief, your back naturally arching as he pressed his tongue harder against you. God, you couldn't even imagine what it was going to be like when his cock was inside you, even though you'd slept together plenty of times before.

His tongue kept pace on your clit, as he moved one of his hands off your thigh and closer to your pussy, gently pushing his middle finger through your folds. Fucking hell, as if he couldn't make you more turned on.

"Art." His name rolled off your tongue. "You're gonna make me cum. I wanna finish with you."

He listened to you, and he obliged, despite how much he wanted you to cum now. Art slowly pulled his finger out of you, and his mouth away from you. He leaned up, motioning himself on top of you, before you moved your hands to lightly push him off.

"What's wrong?" He asked, almost immediately, his eyes dropping, almost disappointed. You knew his cock was aching to be inside you.

You lean up, your hands traveling to rest against the sides of his broad shoulders. "Here. Lay down."

Art wasn't going to fight that. He eagerly nodded at your request, your positions switching in seconds as he laid down on your bed. Your hands began to pull at the waistband on his sweats, and his underwear, sliding them off his body in one.

You weren't one for sucking cock, but with Art, you fucking adored it. You liked to watch him fall apart at just your mouth, knowing that he'd crumble once he fucked your pussy. You liked edging him to the point he was whining, begging, pleading to fuck you, or you to fuck him. Just depended on the day.

"You gonna suck my cock, pretty girl?" Art asked you, softly, a half-smile on his pink lips as he moved one of his hands to cup your cheek, his elbow propping his body up slightly. "Gonna let me fuck your mouth?"

"Mhm." You murmur, nodding as you move down to spit on his cock, wetting the tip before you peck a few kisses against his tip, glancing up at him as you laid on your stomach towards the end of your bed, front of your body aligned with his middle. "Gonna let you fuck my throat, Art."

Art's grin followed the rest of his lips, his cheeks dark red as his mouth hung open. He watched you lean down, his cock enveloped by your mouth. You had pretty, plump lips. Pretty and full lashes you'd bat when he fucked your throat. He could watch you suck him off all day. He could just be with you all day.

"You're so beautiful, [Y/N]. My pretty girl." He praised you, his hand still glued to your cheek, bits of spit against his thumb as you bobbed your head, his cock hard and full in your mouth. "Gonna let me fill your mouth up, hm? Or should I fill your pussy instead? What do you want, baby?"

It's not like you could answer the question. You keep sucking him off, looking up to his blue eyes, before you force him down your throat, muffling any sort of gag that your body desperately wanted to let out. You wanted him to know you could take his cock.

"God." He moaned, his eyes never leaving yours. He rubbed your cheek. "Your mouth feel so good, but I really wanna fuck you. Please, baby. I wanna cum in you. That pretty pussy, please."

It didn't take you much convincing to slide his cock out of your mouth and lay down on your bed. It made you feel embarrassed, desperate even, with how eager you were to have him stuff his cock inside you. Not like he judged you for that at all, just internal thoughts you'd have occasionally.

He sat up, his cock hard and straight, as his knees dug into the mattress. He took his shirt off in one pull, tossing it into the pile of your combined clothes before he moved you more towards the middle of the bed. He aimed his cock at your pussy, your legs spread wide for him, before he leaned forward, slowly pushing himself inside you, the both of you moaning at the raw feeling.

Art could be rough if you wanted him to, and you'd do the same for him, but typically, he savored the moment he entered you each and every time. He'd told you several times, that you were no where near in comparison to any woman he'd been with. No competition. You were it. In every way. Part of him wished he had met you earlier, maybe at Stanford or even grade-school. God, he would've worshipped you back then, all the way to now, and the future. You checked off all his boxes, physically, emotionally, sexually, everything. In a different narrative, he would've married you and had a life with you. Fuck tennis. Fuck everything. He'd rather whatever life he could've had with you.

"You feel so good, pretty. You always do." Art leaned down to press a hard kiss against your lips. He pecked your cheek, his lips moving to your ear. "I'm gonna fill that pussy. Gonna make you mine, baby, my sweet girl.. You want that? You like that?"

You nod, your mouth open as you moan, rather loudly as he picked his pace up the more he talked to you. "Y-Yes, baby, fuck yes, fill me up. You're so fucking sexy.. You fuck me so good, Art."

Art groaned at your response, moving his head back to align above yours, his overgrown curls bouncing with his movements, the bed squeaking underneath you. He'd let his hair grow out a bit more lately since you complemented it awhile back.

"Gonna fill this pussy, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum." He muttered, almost to himself, as he looked between your bodies at what he could see, watching himself fill your hole. It was obvious you were fucking a former pro-athlete. He could fuck you for hours if he wanted to with the amount of stamina he had, regardless of his age. It was fucking hot, how much, and how long, he could fuck you.

You could feel your orgasm increasing the more he penetrated you, the more he pulled his cock nearly out of you and forcing it back inside you, sending jolts through your body. You were already overstimulated enough from just slower sex, him fucking you like a bunny was almost too much for you to take. Not like that was a bad thing though.

"Come on." You talk to him, watching between the two of you, too. "Make me cum, baby. I wanna finish with you, Art. Please, baby. Fuck me so good."

He nods, his body rocking against yours, your legs moving up to wrap around his hips, keeping him closer, and more inside you. You wanted him to fill all of you, not missing a drop of his cum. You wanted him to make you ache when you woke up tomorrow morning.

"Fuck." He groaned, moaning into your mouth as he kissed you, his tongue sliding against yours as he came inside you.

You felt your body jolt, finishing at the same time, as he filled your pussy up. It felt so good to be on the same level, the same energy, as him. So fucking good.

He gave it a few seconds before he pulled out of you, sitting back up, making sure he fucked your right. He rolled to the side before he pulled you closer to him, his hand running through your frizzy hair, kissing the side of your forehead.

You smirked, looking up to him, a small laugh leaving your lips. "What? You can't be shocked, we've had sex so many times I can't even count it at this point."

"I'm not shocked." Art laughed, playing with your hair as he looked up to the ceiling. "It just feels so different with you. You know how much I like you, [Y/N]. Just feels good is all."

"Hm." You watch him look up. You wanted to bring something else up, more emotional topics, but, as much as you knew he did fancy you, you didn't want to fuck up the moment. "Feels good to me, too." Is all you say in return.

Art looks down at you after a moment. "Yeah?" He grins, moving closer to you as he kisses your lips. "Good."

"Yeah." You return his kiss, slightly leaning up as you look to the door. "You wanna eat now? Got your energy out?"

Art shrugs, sitting up. He pecks your bare shoulder. "Maybe not. Maybe can let the rest of it out later."

"God, you're hornier than me." You scoff, pushing him off with a red face, laughing to yourself at the man before you. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

"Whatever you say." He smirks, clearly teasing you, before stepping out of the bed, grabbing his clothes and tossing yours to you.

And that was what was odd about you and Art. It was casual, but not in a hookup sense. Casual in the way that you could sit down and eat with him, make a meal with him, watch shows and movies together, like a normal couple. It drove you insane sometimes. He felt the same way, but how the hell could he tell you that, when he could never actually be with you? He'd have to mask it some type of way, and usually that was through sex. Not like he didn't enjoy it solely for sexual reasons, because, god, he enjoyed fucking you, but he also enjoyed you.

He watched you finish your plate as you sat on the sofa together. You were gorgeous, the perfect picture of the woman he'd want to be with for more than just this. But that was something you'd have to figure out later.

[sceletaflores]

Being a professional masseur for players and taking care of our boy art.

Hes just so sad and so pretty that you just giving head to make him feel better 😔

Plot twist: he falls in love with you because duh? Hot+sex=you being promoted pookie, you are now the donaldsons elite employes!!!!!!

Baby, show me where it hurts...

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you never intended on becoming a "celebrity" massage therapist. you just wanted to be a massage therapist, the whole celebrity thing just sort of happened, you blame cali for that. but the novelty of your job wore off long ago, you hardly blink at the clients on your table nowadays. that is until tashi duncan calls you and absolutely fucks everything up

— or: art donaldson needs a massage therapist…

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, oral (m!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), p in v, fingering (fem!receiving), angst? maybe? could this be considered angst?, slight age gap, no tashi duncan erasure because i don't stand for that, cheating but not really cause tashi knows, she always knows, she is an all seeing eye, and she kind of orchestrates it, SOOOOO much plot, like way too much i'm sorry, art being sad and tired, art also being kinda pathetic a little bit, unprofessional massages, no use of y/n.

word count: 10k+ (someone stop me....pls still read this lmao)

author's note: this ask was blessedly placed in my inbox and it was all i’ve thought about since. this is my first big fic since my mike schmidt days so hopefully i'm not rusty! i've seen this damn cursed hell movie ten times, so hopefully i do it justice. i'm also still struggling sooo much with art and tashi as characters so please bear with me if they aren't movie accurate i'm trying my best. okay. thank you. hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

You don't get starstruck often, not anymore at least. The clients that find their way onto your table are just that in your eyes, clients. You don't see them as big time "celebrities”. Just men and women who need your professional help.

That being said, you almost dropped your phone the first time the Tashi Duncan called you.

It was a normal work day for you, spent buried in paperwork and training a new secretary. You're folding the steam room towels on your lunch break when your phone rings. No caller ID, you answer it anyways.

"Hello, you've reached Lush Retreat Med Spa," you rattle off into your phone, placing it between your ear and shoulder to continue folding. "How can we help you?"

"This is Tashi Duncan calling for Art Donaldson, we've heard great things about you and were hoping to schedule an appointment."

The towel drops from your hands, your mouth falling open in shock. You reach up to tightly grip your phone, not wanting to embarrass yourself by dropping your phone with Tashi fucking Duncan on the end of the line.

Of course you know who she is, but doesn't everyone? The tennis prodigy from Stanford who was on top of the world when a tragic knee injury stole everything from her in a single second. You absolutely idolized her when you were in high school and playing tennis competitively. You watched all the recorded matches you could get your hands on, wore your DUNCANATOR shirts to practice constantly, only bought the tennis rackets she used. You had her fucking posters plastered on the walls of your old bedroom for Christ's sake.

That was until you, ironically, shattered your wrist in a car accident and had to hang up the racket and pleated skirts forever. Just like her.

Now, Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson are California royalty. An unfairly beautiful couple living what seems to be the dream. You'd never kept up much with Art's career like you did Tashi's, but you follow them both on Instagram and you see his face on billboards all over the city almost daily so you can assume it was fruitful. It may help him that he's extremely easy on the eyes, or "super fucking hot!" in your coworkers words.

"Hello?" Her voice ringing out from the tiny speaker ripped you out of your thoughts and back into reality.

"Y-yes, sorry," you cringe internally at yourself, stuttering over your words like a loser. You force yourself to sound professional when you speak again, "We'd love to help you any way we can. Do you have a certain time and date in mind already?"

"We're not home right now, we were thinking next Thursday. Around four." There's no question mark on the end of her sentence, you know that she isn't asking you, she's telling you. You don't even bother to check the schedule before you're answering.

"We will be free that day. I'll go ahead and put you in our system." you rush over to the front desk computer and open the calendar, thankfully you are actually free for Thursday. "I'm assuming you know our location?" you ask as you type in the appointment details, ignoring how your fingers shake ever so slightly as you type Tashi into the slot.

"Actually," Tashi's voice has a different tone to it when she speaks again, it’s something you can’t quite place, your fingers slow down slightly as you listen, "we wanted to make this a home visit."

You stop typing completely, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at your computer screen. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Donaldson but we don't do at home appointments…per our policy." you reply meekly, almost surprised that you're denying her.

"Duncan, actually,” she corrects you nonchalantly, you don’t have time to unpack that before she’s speaking again. “We did read that on your website, but we'd hope you might make an exception. You wouldn't need to bring much. We have our own table." Her tone isn't harsh or impolite, just firm and certain, like she knows you'll give in to her.

You do.

"Well," you bite your lip as you wrestle internally with yourself, torn between what you want to do and what you should do. "Okay, we can do that for you."

"Great. I'll send you the address. See you then." She hangs up without saying goodbye.

You plant your phone next to you and stare at the filled out appointment slot taking up your computer screen, processing what just happened. You're going to Tashi Duncan's house. To give her hot pro-tennis player husband a massage. In their house.

"What the fuck."

SIX DAYS LATER...

The walk up to The Donaldson's huge mansion on a mountain has your stomach turning in on itself. All week you were a ball of nervous energy just floating around your office, trying to find anything to distract you from your upcoming appointment. Now that it's here, you feel you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

You hardly got any sleep last night, tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you gave up, barging into your building's gym to try and sweat your nerves out. When that didn't work you just retreated back to your apartment and got ready.

You try not to think about why it took you so long to get ready, longer than most work mornings. Taking more time in the shower, more time doing your hair, more time doing your makeup.

You even choose an outfit you'd hardly ever wear in front of regular clientele. A matching white polo set, a skirt in place of shorts. You tell yourself that you just want to look good, who wants to look like a mess in front of Tashi Duncan?

Your hands white-knuckle the steering wheel of your car on the drive over. You couldn’t even play any music, the noise in your head already too loud as it was, only cranking up the AC and silently following the crisp voice of your GPS reading off the directions Tashi sent you.

The closer you get to the door the more you want to turn and run down the insanely long driveway, get back in your car and haul ass home without ever looking back.

You don't because you're a professional, or at least that's what you keep telling yourself.

Your hand shakes as you ring their doorbell, hearing it echo back at you from the inside. You only wait a few seconds before the large door swings open and there she is.

Tashi Duncan is every bit as beautiful in person as she is splashed across the pages of magazines and blown up twenty feet on billboards. She looks so effortlessly classy in her Ralph Lauren sweater and flowy black dress pants.

Your name falls from her lips, and all the blood rushes to your ears. Her silky voice wraps around each syllable with an enticing heat that makes you weak in the knees. You feel sixteen years old all over again, standing at the woman who basically molded you into who you are today. It's a dizzying sensation, the rush of nostalgia and emotions flooding in like an avalanche. The memories you have locked away in your brain of the countless late night practices, the hundreds of hours spent on the court, the trophies and ribbons littering your moms basement collecting dust, the refusal to give up and pushing your body past its own limits because you wanted to be just like her. You wanted to be Tashi Duncan, and when you catch yourself nervously rubbing your thumb over the scar spanning your right wrist, you guess in some sick twisted way that you kind of are.

"So glad you could make it," she greets breezily, stepping to the side to let you in. “We were worried you’d get lost.”

The house is, of course, beautiful on the inside. Tall ceilings, big fireplace, a beautiful staircase leading to the second floor. There’s toys strewn messily along the living room floor, the TV mounted on the wall is paused on ESPN.

You hope you don’t look as crazy as you feel taking in the space, taking in the fact that Tashi is standing right in front of you. 

“No, the directions were very helpful,” your voice only slightly wavers as you respond, you count that as a win, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donalds–uh–Duncan.” You cringe at your fumble, but try to power through by extending Tashi your hand.

She watches you for a second, sharp eyes flicking over your body quickly like she’s inspecting you. It makes your cheeks feel warm as you struggle to not squirm underneath her gaze. Finally, she takes your hand in hers and gives it a firm shake. You ignore the way her touch makes your palm burn.

“Art should already be in the massage room, it’s in the pool house,” Tashi says, gesturing to the huge windows in the living room showing off a lavish underground pool with a smaller building situated next to it, “I have to take a phone call here in a few minutes so I trust you’ll find your way there.”

You nod slowly, adjusting the strap of your supply bag on your shoulder. Tashi doesn't even pause walking further into the house as she speaks to you, heels clicking with each step as she makes her way to the large staircase in the middle of the room. There’s still no question marks tacked on to the end of her sentences, just like over the phone. 

“It’s just through that door, first room on the left. I told him to leave the door open for you.” She continues, reaching the stairs and making her way up slowly. She tosses her head over her shoulder to make eye contact with you again. “He’s been complaining about his shoulder acting up. The right one, it’s what needs the most attention. He serves with that arm, we need it at a hundred.” she fires off casually, like she’s recited this information before.

You go to speak but her phone ringing cuts you off, echoing off the house's crisp white walls. “Thank you for coming to see us, it was nice meeting you.” Tashi says politely, giving you one final once over before she’s answering her phone and disappearing up the stairs.

“It was nice meeting you too…” you trail off quietly, fully caught off guard by whatever the hell that was. Out of every single time you’d fantasized about what meeting Tashi Duncan would be like, none of them were quite like this. At least it’s over you figure, and you even managed to not make a complete fool of yourself.

You hold onto that tiny win as you walk through the living room doors and outside, making your way to the pool house like Tashi instructed. The entrance is unlocked as you step inside, thankfully you spot the cracked door a little ways in front of you. 

The sound of your footsteps are loud as you make your way down the short hallway, tennis shoes making small thump sounds against the concrete floor. You pause for just a second outside the cracked door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open and stepping inside. The room is empty, the only things inside are some shelves lined with various essential oils and lotions, and an expensive looking massage table in the center. You muse over the fact that their table looks a little better than the ones in your own spa, no wonder they wanted a home visit.

The room is well lit as you walk around, dim in a way that promotes relaxation. The soft, ambient lighting bathes the room in a gentle, golden glow, complemented by the flicker of aromatic candles placed strategically around the space. You wonder who lit them, Tashi? Or maybe Art? You let out a small laugh at the idea of Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson fawning over the room before you showed up, setting up candles and mood lighting to make it feel nicer, less clinical.

You’re probably just reading too much into it. You always urge clients to ask for anything that will make them feel more comfortable, apparently Art just likes eucalyptus sage candles and mood lighting. It has nothing to do with you. 

Your name being said from somewhere behind you rips you out of your own mind. You whirl around, and find yourself face to face with six time Grand Slam Champion, Tashi Duncan’s super hot husband, Art Donaldson. And he’s only wearing a fucking towel.

“Hello,” he greets with a kind smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “it’s nice to finally meet you, thank you so much for taking the time to come out here.” 

Art is already worlds different from Tashi, or that’s what you’re inferring after spending less than five minutes with each of them. It’s still extremely apparent, Tashi has an almost overpowering presence to her, everything about her commands respect and she knows that. She uses that to her advantage, she likes it like that.

The man standing in front of you is nothing like that. The Art Donaldson in front of you doesn’t seem like some big shot tennis player with more impressive stats than you could wrap your head around. You’ve come to know that a few pro-sports guys like to swing their dicks around, bragging about their booming careers non-stop during a session. Yet everything about Art is unassuming as he stands in the doorway like he’s trying to make himself look smaller. 

“Hi, Mr. Donaldson,” you’re not sure if it's appropriate to offer a man wearing a towel dangerously low on his hips your hand, you decide against it. “It’s no trouble really, I’m happy to help.”

“Please, call me Art.” The tone of his voice makes you want to shiver, smooth and warm like honey. 

You try your best not to stare, but it’s so hard to ignore the toned expanse of Art’s body when it’s right there. He’s all broad shoulders, firm pecs, sculpted legs, with a cut Adonis belt. He’s like a marble statue, made in Michelangelo's perfect image.

Your eyes trail back up his body, lingering on his chest before rising up to his face. You’re mortified to see he’s staring right back at you, effectively catching you in the act. Your cheeks burn as you tear your gaze away, looking at anything and everything other than him. In your panic, you don’t notice the way his eyes rake over you in the same way.

“Okay, Art,” you say a little breathlessly, tightening your grip on the strap of your bag. “It’s nice to meet you. Mrs. Duncan let me know about your major problem areas, I’ll be sure to focus on them.” Involuntarily bringing up Tashi has your stomach clenching up in guilt, you just got done ogling her husband's body. You hope he takes the silent cue you're giving him to get on the damn table so you can start the massage and get the hell out of here.

Art nods silently, walking over to the table and moving to lie down on his stomach. You busy yourself with prepping your oils, taking them out of your bag and setting them on a small side table next to the massage bed uncapped for easy access. You can’t help but sneak glances at the rippling muscle of Art’s back as he shifts, his skin looks soft and is littered with freckles. You don’t miss the hiss he lets out when he lays his weight on his shoulder.

You usually don’t speak much during appointments, only engaging in conversation when your client initiates it, but you feel the need to fill the silence between you and Art. The quiet atmosphere makes everything seem far too intimate, and sure on some level it always is, but this feels different.

“How’d you hurt it? Your shoulder. If you don’t mind me asking.” you ask once he’s settled, placing your fingertips to the middle of his right shoulder, feeling around for any tension. Art tenses slightly at your touch, taking a sharp breath. You guess you should have warned him, you open your mouth to apologize but he lets out a small breath and relaxes onto the table again.

Art sighs, his voice tinged with weariness. "It was, uh, during a match. I overextended trying to return a serve. Haven't been able to move it properly since."

You nod, hands starting to move in slow, deliberate circles across the muscle. “That sounds about right. Most people don’t realize how brutal tennis is to the body, injuries are common,” you pointedly try to ignore the flashbacks of your wrist failing to swing a racket properly after you healed from your accident, flashbacks of watching as the bone pierced through your skin. “Sounds like you might need to take it easy for a while.” you continue, trying to keep the conversation light.

Art chuckled, though it was devoid of real humor. "Yeah, I’ve been playing a lot lately. Guess I pushed myself too hard." He winces slightly as you work on a particularly tight knot, shoulder tensing under your hands. 

You pause, your hands stilling momentarily as you catch the underlying tension in Art's voice. "The season’s almost over, maybe it's time to give yourself a break, take some time to rest and recuperate." you remark softly, your tone gentle yet concerned.

Art's gaze flickers to yours, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. "I wish I could," he admits, his voice heavy, "But it's hard to step away, especially when it feels like it's all I have that’s still keeping everything together."

Your heart clenches at the raw honesty in his words. He’s completely silent afterwards, you wonder if he’s regretting telling you something like that, like maybe it just fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. Without a word, you continue to knead away the tension in his muscles, offering a silent gesture of support.

As you continue to work, hands skillfully moving over Art’s shoulder, you can’t help but notice the weariness in Art's demeanor. His presence feels heavy, almost broken, as if the physical pain was just a small part of what he was carrying. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. You can feel the weight of struggles pressing down on him, the way his shoulders sag slightly even under your careful touch.

“I can feel the tension here," you say gently, applying a little more pressure,  "Just try to relax.” 

With each knead and press, you remind yourself of your role. You’re here to help him heal, and that was all that mattered. But as your hands move over his warm skin, you can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what you had anticipated, something that made your heart race with both excitement and anxiety. You were so worried about meeting Tashi you completely forgot about Art. It’s a different story now as your hands explore the smooth planes of his back to the steady sound of his breathing.

"You're really good at this," Art says after a while, his voice a bit lighter. 

You smile, a genuine one, the first real smile you’ve had since you got here. “Thanks. I’d hope so after all this time.”

Art lets out a small chuckle muffled by the table, it makes your stomach flutter. “How did you get into this? Massage therapy seems interesting.”

You laugh but it’s a bitter sound, moving your hands down to focus lower on Art’s shoulder. You try not to think about your tennis career, even after all this time you struggle with the memories despite all the good it brought you. “That’s a long story.” you mutter under your breath, even to your own ears you sound resentful.

“I’ve got time.” It’s a simple reply, but it’s so honest. Like Art’s genuinely interested in you, in getting to know you. It makes you feel dizzy.

“I, um,” you worry your lip between your teeth, working your hands harder over Art’s back. “I actually used to play tennis. When I was in high school.”

Art makes an interested noise, shifting under your hands as he moves his head to lay on the side of the table so he could look up at you. “No shit?” he looks more shocked than anything. 

You nod, humming in confirmation as you finally move onto his other shoulder. “Yup, I was pretty serious about it back then, until I got injured.” You don’t meet Art’s gaze, but you can see how his face falls in your peripheral vision. You kind of want to laugh at how ironic this moment is, you wonder if Art’s thinking about Tashi’s knee. You know he was at the match, you’ve seen the blurry footage of Tashi Duncan’s fall from grace, watched Art vault over the net to get to her.

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.” He sounds like he means it.

“It’s okay, wasn't like it was my fault or anything,” you say, finally meeting his eyes with a rueful smile and raising your right wrist to show him your scar. “I got hit by a drunk driver coming home late from practice one night. Nasty fracture, bone went straight through.” You hope your voice is coming out as nonchalant as you’re trying to make it sound.

Art's eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in your scar, a mixture of shock and sympathy evident on his face. "Wow, that's...terrible," he murmurs, his voice tinged with compassion.

You shrug, the memories still vivid despite the passage of time. "It was tough, it was awful actually. All the physical therapy in the world couldn’t get a racket back in my hand,” you confess softly, fingers tracing the outline of the scar absentmindedly again. “But it also forced me to reevaluate things, in a way. It made me realize that life doesn't always go according to plan.” You see Tashi’s knee buckling in your mind's eye. “When I finally realized that I could take all the hate and all the anger I was feeling and channel it into something good, something like massage therapy, I never looked back."

You immediately regret over-sharing, feeling silly telling Art your sob story, but when you meet his eye again, he has an odd look on his face. His expression is soft as he looks up at you through long lashes, understanding and empathy swimming in the blue of his eyes.

"Well, silver linings, huh?" he says after a few seconds, there’s traces of a smile playing on his lips. You let out a small laugh, nodding your head slightly.

"Yeah," you agree, a small smile on your lips. "Silver linings." 

As the conversation fades into a comfortable silence, you and Art find yourselves locked in a silent exchange, your eyes meeting and holding a depth of something you can’t quite pick up on. In that moment, the world around you seems to blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in a shared moment of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that has formed between you, as if you've uncovered a piece of each other.

The shrill ringing of your phone’s alarm pierces through the moment, both you and Art jump at the sudden sound. It’s like a cold bucket of water pouring over your head, washing away whatever just happened between the two of you. The session’s over, you’re done. 

“Okay,” you say a little too loudly, taking your hands off Art's back like his skin could burn you any second. “Looks like we’re all done.” You try to smile but it feels fake, forced, so you turn your back to Art and start capping your oils to shove them back in your bag.

Art’s voice breaks the silence as you pack up, sounding a little less confident than it did earlier. “Uh, my neck has been bothering me too, recently,” he says offhandedly as he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “I think I may have slept on it wrong.”

You stop what you’re doing, turning to face Art again, silently cursing him for not just letting you leave. “Do you want me to take a look before I go?” You pray he says no. You should know it won’t be that easy, not with your shit luck.

“If you don’t mind?” His tone is so hopeful and his eyes are so big that your feet are walking towards him before your mind can catch up. 

“Not at all,” you reply, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. You step closer, practically between his slightly spread legs, feeling the warmth of his skin even before you touch him. Your fingers brush against his neck, and he shivers slightly, the muscles tight and knotted beneath your touch.

"Just relax," you murmur, trying to maintain any shred of professional demeanor. As you work, you can't help but notice the way his breath hitches, the tension in his body melting away under your skilled hands. The room feels smaller, the air heavier with each passing second.

He closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "That feels amazing," he whispers, and you swallow hard, trying to focus solely on the task at hand. As you work, the intimacy of the moment isn't lost on you, and you can't help but wonder if he feels it too.

Minutes tick by like hours as you work the tense muscle of Art’s neck. You're acutely aware of every sigh, every shift in his body, every subtle reaction to your touch. You finally pull away when you think it’s been enough time, eager to get out of this damn house before you do something you’ll regret.

You didn’t notice how close you really were to Art until you pulled back only to be met with his face mere inches away from yours. Startled by the sudden proximity, you freeze, caught off guard by the intensity of Art's gaze. His eyes, dark and searching, seem to hold a silent question, a silent invitation.

Now, Art’s body is one thing, it’s objectively perfect. He’s a professional athlete, of course it’s perfect. It has to be perfect. It’s his damn face that gets you.

He’s beautiful, beyond beautiful. He looks like he should be splayed across canvas hanging in the Louvre. The dim lighting in the room illuminates his face beautifully, his golden hair haloing around his head makes him look ethereal. Each of his features look as if they were handcrafted by a master sculptor, each contour and line a testament to perfection. His chiseled jawline speaks of strength and determination, while his lips, soft and inviting, seem to beckon you closer with every breath. His eyes are deep pools of ocean blue, though this close you can see a small splash of brown in his left eye you didn’t notice before, swirling with emotions that stir something deep within you. 

Something more shocking than Art’s beauty, is how fucking tired he looks. Lines of exhaustion are etched along his face, subtle but undeniable. The weariness in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent plea for respite from the relentless demands of tennis. And yet, even amidst the exhaustion, there's a flicker of longing. He’s staring at you like he needs you, eyes wide and yearning. His chest rising and failing a little more harshly than it did before, each exhale coming out ragged and sharp.

“Art…” you whisper, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. He’s so warm, the heat emitting off of him makes you want to lean into it. You want to crawl on top of his powerful thighs and bury your face in his chest and never leave. Your hands flex where they’re draped over Art’s neck.

It happens in slow motion, Art’s hand trails up the skin of your thigh as your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and it’s like you’ve been electrocuted. You’re rearing back with a sharp breath, dropping your hands from his neck and taking a couple steps back. 

“It was really nice to- uh to meet you, Art.” you say frantically, swinging your bag firmly over your shoulder and rushing to the door. Art’s still sitting on the table, silently watching you panic. He doesn’t try to stop you. “I hope your shoulder feels better,” is all you say before bursting out the door and speed walking out of the pool house. 

Your heart's racing as you walk through the backyard, hands shaking even through the death grip you have on the strap of your bag. What the hell was that? What the hell was that? Did Art Donaldson just make a pass at you? You must be imagining things. 

The thought rattles around in your mind, refusing to be dismissed. His words, his tone—they seemed to linger in the air, haunting you with their implications. The way he touched you, like he couldn’t help himself. But no, it couldn't be. He was married to Tashi, and besides, he was just being polite, right? You try to convince yourself of that as you make your way back to the house.

As you walk inside, still slightly shaken up, Tashi’s the first thing you see. She’s sitting in the living room, laptop open on the coffee table in front of her. 

“Hey,” she says, sitting up straighter on the coach, “how was it?”

You swallow, urging yourself to calm down. “It was great, he should be seeing some improvement over the next few days.”

Tashi nods her head, seemingly pleased though it doesn’t show on her face. “Could this be a weekly thing, these appointments. He could really use them.” 

No question marks. Motherfucker.

You flounder, stomach dropping. “Weekly? As in every Thursday?”

Tashi’s brow raises, eyes looking over you inquisitively. “Yes, preferably all home visits.”She stands from the couch, taking a couple steps towards you. “We read on your website you take permanent clients, is that not the case anymore.”

You shake your head, eyes wide as they follow her while she walks. “N-no, Mrs. Duncan we do. We could pencil you in if you’re willing to pay monthly for the time slot. Would you like to talk to some of my other employees to work out a rotating schedule?”

Tashi stops a few feet away from you, hands in her pockets. “Actually, we were hoping you’d be the one coming down. The only one.” You blink, her words slam over you like a ton of bricks. Just you, in a room with a half-naked Art. Every single Thursday. That can’t happen, not after what just went down between the two of you.

You can practically hear the warning bells blaring in your mind, urging you to refuse, to put an end to this before it spirals out of control. Yet, there's another voice, quieter but no less insistent, whispering seductive promises of what could be if you were to stay.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you grapple with the conflicting desires warring within you. Tashi's expectant gaze weighs heavily on you, waiting for your response, and you know that whatever decision you make will irrevocably alter the course of things between you and Art. With a shaky breath, you steel yourself, the weight of your choice settling like a stone in your stomach.

"I...I'll do it," you finally say, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them. "I'll make sure to pencil you in for weekly sessions, Mrs. Duncan."

Tashi's lips curve up slightly, satisfied, but beneath the surface you can sense the tension thrumming through the air. You've made your choice, for better or for worse, and now you can only hope that it won't lead to the downfall of everything you've worked so hard to build.

“Wonderful,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her to the front door. You trail behind her like a loyal pet, silently allowing her to drag you wherever she pleases. “Thank you again for coming out, and please,” she pauses with her hand on the doorknob, turning to meet your eye, “call me Tashi.”

"Thank you, Tashi," you murmur softly, the weight of her name feeling foreign on your tongue when you’re actually saying it to her for the first time. "I'll make sure to arrange everything at the office."

Tashi's smile widens, though there's a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. "I look forward to seeing you, then," she says, her tone laced with a hint of anticipation. "And please, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to reach out."

With a final nod, Tashi opens the front door, the outside world beckoning beyond its threshold. You take a hesitant step forward, the weight of your decision pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. As you step out into the cool evening air, you can't shake the feeling that you've just crossed a line from which there may be no turning back. But for now, all you can do is steel your nerves and hope that you haven't made a huge mistake.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Your sessions with Art continue on. The guilt settling deep in your stomach each time you set foot in the Donaldson/Duncan house also continues. It worsens each time the two of you are alone in that damned massage room. Technically you’ve done nothing wrong, but you know deep in the back of your mind that what you’re doing isn’t normal. Each meeting is a strange mixture of tension and familiarity. When you arrive, Tashi always greets you warmly, her trust in you unwavering. It feels like a dagger each time, twisting deeper and deeper into your conscience. 

Neither of you talk about it, what happened during your session, and Art doesn’t treat you any differently. He still goes out of his way to make polite conversation, asking you about your life, about your business, he even brings up old anecdotes you told him offhandedly. He doesn’t talk about tennis, and he has to know you can keep up in conversation with it since you told him about your history with it, you just assume he doesn’t want to. 

That makes sense, you always think back to the first time he met you. How he brushed off any conversation about his career, how his demeanor changed when he spoke about it. How drained he looked. There was a sadness in his eyes, a weight he carried that seemed to go beyond just a few standard aches and pains. You remember how it struck you then, and it strikes you still, each time you see him.

His shoulder is getting better, you can tell. He can lay on it, or raise it above his head, without wincing. That makes your heart swell, knowing that despite how weird and kind of fucked up everything is, he’s healing. 

The familiar sound of your timer ringing pulls you out of your thoughts. You’re shocked at how fast this appointment flew by, but you could tell as soon as you walked into the massage room to find Art already sitting on the table waiting for you, that something about this session feels different. It’s silly to call it “sensing a bad vibe”, but that’s exactly what you felt entering the room's threshold. 

Art didn’t speak much as you worked, just laying on the table silently after saying hello and asking you about your week. The silence is definitely odd, Art’s not a chatterbox by any means, but he usually keeps some form of conversation flowing. After a while, you start to think it might be something you did, like maybe he’s mad at you. It sounds so stupid in your head, like you’re some poor high school girl getting hung up over a fucking guy giving you the silent treatment.

The only thing more stupid than that is how much it’s actually affecting you. Art has you over analyzing everything you’ve said or done over the last couple visits, you dread that maybe he just came to his senses after all this time. That he finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and remembered he has a beautiful wife, and that he doesn’t really want you.

“Alright,” you say softly, stepping away from the table, “All done.” As you turn off the timer and gather your thoughts, you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You force yourself to bury it, Art doesn’t owe you an explanation, he doesn’t owe you anything. You aren’t his.

You glance over at him as he slowly sits up, his expression unreadable. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. You offer a small smile in return, trying to squash all the ugly feelings mixing in your stomach. You turn to busy yourself with packing up, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu.

Art’s voice cuts through the silence, sounding weary. “Are we still pretending it didn’t happen?”

It catches you off guard, making you drop the bottle in your hands back onto the table loudly. Your heart races as you turn back to face him, unsure of how to respond. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, demanding a response you’re not sure you’re ready to give.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I...I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I was hoping we could just…forget about it.”

Art’s eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. “I don’t think I can,” he confesses, his voice tinged with sadness.

The same feelings from that day rush back in your mind, flooding all your senses. It's as if time folds in on itself, bringing you right back to that moment where everything changed. You feel panic clawing its way up your body, fight or flight response waging a war inside of you.

You chose flight, shoving the last bottle in your bag and making a break for the door. Ready to run just like you did back then, run and come back next week with your tail between your legs desperately trying to forget that this ever happened, again. Art’s voice stops you just as you have your hand on the doorknob.

“Please…” he whispers, he sounds so broken, so vulnerable. “Please, don’t run.”

You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the repressed feelings, or your shitty back bone, but whatever it is makes you pause, hand falling off the doorknob to lay limp at your side. You turn back to face him, the raw need in his eyes mirrored by your own emotions. It tugs at your heart, making it impossible to leave. You feel a surge of guilt and hesitation, but the longing in his gaze holds you captive. Slowly, you make your way towards him, taking small slow steps like you could still leave at any minute, but you know you won’t.

You walk until you’re crowding him, standing between his spread legs just like you did all those sessions ago. His eyes are wide, almost disbelieving, like he thought you’d turn around and slam the door on him instead. Which is what you should do, you should walk out that door right now and never step foot in their house again. 

Art whispers your name, his voice a soft caress that sends sparks zapping down your spine. You're close enough to feel his breath fanning over your face, warm and intimate. You inhale, like you’re trying to absorb his words, his essence, his everything. 

His hand takes yours, bringing it up to his chest. He presses it firmly against his pec, right on top of his heart. You can feel the rapid, uneven thumping beneath your palm. His thumb caresses your wrist gently, making goosebumps pebble over your skin.

It’s easy to get lost in Art’s eyes, so you’re shocked to notice something that very quickly grabs your attention. Art’s towel is tented obscenely, hard cock straining against the thick material. You swallow roughly at the sight, feeling the need to touch, to take, to help.

Your knees hit the floor before you fully realize the entire gravity of what you’re doing. You don’t care about any of that anyway, not right now. 

Right now Art Donaldson is swiping his thumb across the scar on your wrist with his big sparkly eyes desperately looking into yours, unashamedly begging for you to touch him. 

Who are you to deny him?

Your hands find the knot of his towel and yank it roughly, ripping it off Art's hips and tossing it aside. His hard cock springs out, slapping up against his stomach enticingly. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, pleased to see he’s perfect all over. 

Art’s cock is long, and thick. He’s big, but in an exciting way, not in an intimidating way. He’s already steadily drooling pre-cum from his soft pink tip, already so hard and you haven’t even touched him yet. You reach up, tracing your finger along the length of him lightly. Art inhales, his eyes fluttering closed as you touch him for the first time. The anticipation in the room is palpable, a heady mix of desire and need that seems to swirl around you both.

You circle your hand around the base of his cock, stroking up and up until your hand bumps into the head, where you start to rub your thumb back and forth gently, spreading the wetness from his pre-cum before sliding your hand back down. Slowly, you lean in, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth, savoring the taste of him as he groans deeply, hands gripping the massage table tightly.

“Shit,” he grits out, casting his gaze to the ceiling, chest already heaving raggedly. 

You slide the warmth of your mouth down the shaft of his cock, moaning at the heady taste of him, skin soft and velvety on your tongue. 

“Fuck, your mouth…” Art whispers above you, his words trailing off into a string of breathy moans. You hum in response, working his cock faster to draw out more of those noises. Hollowing your cheeks, you sink down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slippery slurping sounds. Art’s hand lets go of the table, coming up to cup your cheek in a move way too intimate for what the two of you are doing.

You chance a look up, and your heart skips several beats at what you see. Art’s already staring down at you, his face twisted up in pleasure. His pale cheeks are flushed, brows drawn together tightly, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. All that is enough to make you feel ten feet tall, but that’s not what makes you pause.

It’s his eyes, the way Art’s looking at you.

The look in his eyes is…worshipful. Reverent. Like you’re a celestial being, a divine grace walking among mortals. Not some girl on her knees for a married man in his house’s private fucking massage room.

Yet the longer you hold his gaze, while still working your mouth over his hard cock, you feel something strange stirring inside you. Art’s eyes holding such a longing reverence so intense, it was starting to elevate you to a pedestal of adoration. Of devotion.

Right now Art’s like the sun, burning so brightly you feel you need to look away before he consumes you, but you don’t.

“Please,” Art begs desperately, voice so soft you barely even hear it. There’s tears welling in his eyes, his red rimmed and so so tired looking eyes. It breaks your heart, how could such a wonderful man be reduced to this?

You pull off Art’s cock, hand still pumping firmly over him. He whines at the loss of your mouth, hips bucking up to chase after the warm heat. His tip bumps over your lips as he moves, trailing a thin line of pre-cum across them.

Without breaking eye contact, you speak.

“You’re so good, Art.” 

It’s those four words whispered against the tip of Art's leaking cock that has him coming with a hitched breath and a soft cry. A few bursts of his warm come land over your parted lips before you take the head of his cock back in your mouth to greedily swallow down the rest. 

"Thank you, fuck, thank you...!" Art grates out as his body trembles above you, hand squeezing yours so hard it borders on painful. You know you’re never coming back from this, but you still  squeeze back as hard as you can all the same.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Maybe this is just your life now, fucking the husband of the woman you worshiped like a God for years on end. It’s like you can’t stop, like you’re an addict or something. No matter how disgusting and shameful you feel every time you get home from Art’s appointments, you can’t help but give into him. It’s a twisted dance, a cycle of pleasure and regret that you can’t seem to break. One look into his sad, kicked puppy eyes and you crack. You’ve convinced yourself it's just you reveling in the feeling of being truly wanted for the first time. But deep down, you know it’s more than that. It’s the way he makes you feel alive, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world.

Art wants you. He needs you. He’s made that more than clear every single visit since you dropped down on your knees for him. The guilt gnaws at you, a constant reminder that you can't escape. Yet, every time you see him, every time he reaches out to you with that desperate need in his eyes, you find yourself powerless to resist. 

You’ve never kissed, not on the lips. Art’s certainly tried, lips seeking yours out as your oiled up fist slips up and down his cock, as you sit on his lap and grind against him until he’s dirtying his towel. You just turn your head every time, letting him trail kisses along your jaw and neck instead somehow feels less real. Kissing Art will make it feel real, you know it will. So you don’t.

Funnily enough, you think things are going well. Maybe even as well as getting a married man off every Thursday can go. You can see a change in Art, in his behavior and the way he holds himself. He smiles more, he laughs more, it’s like he’s giving more of himself to you each time you meet with him. It’s exhilarating, the way your presence has this effect on him, almost as if you’re breathing new life into him.

Art’s newfound lightness is infectious. You find yourself looking forward to Thursdays with an anticipation that borders on impatience. The way he looks at you, the tender touches that linger just a bit longer, the conversations that flow more freely–it all feels like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from. 

You should have known it was too good to be true, that this little world you created in your head was just the calm before the storm.

Everything about this session was normal to start. It’s a little less intense since Art’s shoulder is doing better, now you have free reign over the rest of his body. Greedy hands free to glide over the planes and planes of muscle you’ve become familiar with.

As you work on his lower back, your hands moving in practiced, soothing motions, you notice a subtle rigidity in his muscles. “Everything alright?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

Art hesitates before answering. “Yeah, just…a lot on my mind.”

You frown, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Art stays quiet, still laying silently on the table face down. You stare at the back of his head, like if you stare hard enough you’ll be able to tell what he’s thinking. Taking his silence as not wanting to talk, you continue on. You don’t want to pressure him to confide with you, not when he already has a wife for that.

As your hands continue to move over Art's tense shoulders, he lets out a deep sigh, breaking the silence. "I need you,”  he whispers softly, his voice filled with an unexpected vulnerability. He shifts on the table, leaning up to look you in the eye; his own eyes are watery, lashes clumped together with unshed tears. “It's not just the massages. I need you in my life, no more of this half-assed bullshit. I need all of you.”

You feel your whole world turn upside down in a single second, the distinct feeling of your heart lurching out of your chest and your stomach dropping to your feet. It’s like the walls of the room start moving in on you, caging you in. It makes your chest feel tight, breath coming out in short jagged rasps. Panic grips you, and you violently rip your hands off Art’s body, stumbling back from the massage table.

 "I-I'm sorry, I can't," you stammer, voice choked with emotion, as you turn to flee from the room, not even bothering to grab your stuff. But before you could escape, Art was right behind you, reaching out to catch your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. "Please don't go, please," he begs, his eyes pleading with you to stay and talk. You wrench your hand free and run out of the room. 

You think you hear Art calling out your name through all the static rushing through your ears, but you’re not sure, and you don’t look back to check. Your feet pound against the tile as you run out of the pool house feeling like you’re about to throw up, or pass out. Art’s confession is the only thing running through your mind. The only thing that’s still clear through your dizzying panic.

You finally start to breathe again when you burst into the house, leaning back against the cool glass of the door to try and relax before you start to spiral. The silence inside is almost oppressive, the only sound the rapid thudding of your heart in your ears. You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down, to find some semblance of control.

Your name being said grabs your attention, and you open your eyes to find Tashi at the top of the stairs.

“Is everything okay? I heard the door slam.” Her expression is a mix of concern and confusion as she takes a few steps down. You push yourself off the door, you need to leave as soon as possible, before Tashi can reach you and coerce you into staying. 

“Everything's fine!” Your voice sounds shaky despite your best efforts to calm yourself, you’re basically speed walking to the door. “I just, I got a phone call, and I need to leave. Right now. I’m so sorry.”

You don’t even wait for her to reply before you’re yanking the door open and rushing outside. You hope to God that she doesn’t follow you outside. She doesn’t.

You walk, arms wrapped around yourself tightly in a feeble attempt to stop shaking. There are tears burning your eyes and making everything in front of you blurry. The wind whips your hair around your face, stinging your cheeks as you walk further away from the house.

Each step feels heavier, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to make sense of the storm inside you. The chaotic weather seems to mock your turmoil, perfectly matching the chaos you feel. You struggle to piece together what just happened, the intensity of Art’s words echoing in your mind.

“I need you.”

His voice had been so raw, so vulnerable, and it scared you. You weren’t ready for that kind of emotion, that kind of responsibility, that kind of guilt. The weight of it had sent you running, and now you’re left grappling with the aftermath.

Fuck.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX HOURS LATER…

The drive home was a blur. Rain and wind beating against the windshield nearly the whole time. You’d laugh at how ironic it was, like God’s punishing you with shitty weather, but you’re too busy fighting tears to find the humor in it. 

The dread didn’t set in until you got home, stumbling through the front door on shaky legs until you reached your kitchen where you promptly emptied everything in your stomach into your trash. After you force yourself into the shower to wash the rain, and guilt, off of your skin. You scrub yourself raw, skin pink and sensitive to the touch, like that will somehow erase all that you’ve done.

When you finally step out, the bathroom mirror is fogged, a ghostly reflection staring back at you through the mist. You avoid its gaze, wrapping yourself in a towel and padding through your room to collapse onto your bed. The silence of the house presses in on you, letting your thoughts consume you. 

Art’s words play on a loop inside your head, the look on his face burned to the forefront of your mind. The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air, rocking you with its intensity. Running away had seemed like the only option at the time, a knee-jerk reaction to the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to engulf you. 

You know you didn’t run from Art because you don’t want him, you ran because there’s nothing you want more. In the aftermath, running felt less like a choice and more like an instinctual response to the storm of emotions threatening to consume you whole since the first day you met him. Every step away from Art was a battle against the gravitational pull of your desires, a struggle against the overwhelming urge to surrender to what you both shared.

The truth is crystal clear: you didn't run from Art because you're devoid of feelings for him. You ran precisely because your heart beats in synchrony with his, because the depth of your longing for him is as boundless as the universe itself. 

Your phone pings from the dresser, you ignore it. A second later, it pings again, and again, and again. You furrow your brows, glaring at your nightstand until you reach over and pick up your phone. It’s an unknown number, but you know who it is.

UNKNOWN NUMBER I need to see you.  Please, I can send a car. It's Art. Tashi isn’t home tonight.

Maybe you’re the worst person in the world, but all the fight leaves your body the second you read Art’s texts. You need to see him as much as he needs to see you. Your fingers type out a response before you can think twice.

Art okay.

You send him your address, jumping out of bed to throw on the first things you see. A black SUV was waiting for you as soon as you got downstairs, just as promised. You climbed in after getting confirmation from the driver, and sat in the backseat quietly as you went down the familiar streets. 

As the house comes into view, you can see the front door’s light is still on, waiting for you. You barely wait for the car to stop before you’re opening the car door and stepping outside. The rain immediately drenches you, seeping through your thin sleep clothes. You take two steps before the front door swings open and Art comes rushing out into the rain. He’s only wearing sleep pants, his bare feet smack wetly on the concrete as he runs to you.

Art stops short of you, hesitating, like he doesn’t know whether to touch you or not. You want him to touch you so bad you’re scared it might kill you. The air between you feels charged, every drop of rain a tiny spark. Finally, Art reaches out, his hand trembling as he brushes a soaked strand of hair from your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you step closer, collapsing into his arms. The rain continues to fall around you, but at this moment, it’s just the two of you.

"Art," you breathe, your voice trembling. "What are we doing?"

He gazes into your eyes, the raw emotion in his expression mirroring your own. "I don't know," he admits, his hands gently sliding down to your shoulders. "But I can't let you go. Not now." His words hang between you, a fragile thread of honesty that binds you together. You can feel the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as his words sink in. The honesty in his gaze, the desperation in his touch—it all overwhelms you, leaving you breathless. The only thing you can think of, the only thing that feels right, is kissing him. So you do.

You lean closer, your heart pounding in your chest, and gently cup his face in your hands. His eyes widen for a moment, a flicker of surprise mingling with the intensity of his emotions. Then, as if drawn together by an invisible force, your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative and sweet, a question and an answer all at once. His lips are cold and slightly trembling, matching the fluttering in your chest. You can taste the salt of your tears mingling with the sweetness of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

Gradually, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and fervent, a silent expression of everything words can’t convey. Art’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his fingers threading through your hair. The heat between you intensifies, both your breath coming faster, mingling as the kiss grows hungrier.

Art’s heartbeat echoes against your chest, you can feel his grip on you getting tighter like he's scared of letting you go. Your hands slide down to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscles as you press closer, your bodies molding together. His tongue flicks against your lips, seeking entrance, and you part them eagerly, welcoming him in. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of desperation and passion that makes your head spin. A soft moan escapes your lips, and he responds with a low growl, his hands roaming down your back, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“Art,” you say in between kisses, panting into his slick, open mouth. “I need you to fuck me.”

You can feel Art’s whole body shiver, groaning unabashedly into your mouth like he’s dying for it. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally admit that.”

The two of you tear through the house, all tangled limbs and bumbling steps, you trail water all over the floor. Somewhere in the chaos you drop your phone and keys on the large kitchen island. Art refuses to let go of you to walk properly, blindly leading the way so he can keep kissing you breathless.

Art only stops kissing you when you finally make it to his bedroom, pulling away to wrestle the now soaked sleep pants off his legs. You follow by example and peel your shirt off, skin damp and cold but you could care less, not when Art’s pants are pooling at his ankles and he’s throwing his boxers carelessly over his shoulder.

“God,” he breathes out, shaking his head like he can’t believe you're giving him this, “You’re so beautiful.”

The raw honesty in his tone has your cheeks burning, you cast your gaze to the floor instinctually, feeling too overwhelmed by his charged gaze raking over you. You can hear his feet softly padding against the floor, making his way closer. You watch his feet come to a complete stop in front of you, he takes a hold of your chin gently forcing you to look up at him. 

His eyes, intense and unwavering, lock onto yours. “You’re fucking perfect.”

With a gentle push, Art lowers you onto the bed, his weight a comforting presence above you. He tilts your head back and kisses you breathless, one big hand sliding lower and lower on your stomach till he’s got his hand down the front of your shorts, he groans when his hand makes contact with your bare skin. You’d almost forgotten you hadn’t worn any underwear. His hand so close to your aching center has your breath hitching as you kiss, hips bucking up towards his palm.

You reach for his cock, an angry shade red and leaking steadily, but he catches your wrist before you can touch. You meet his eyes confused, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s been about me the whole time, baby. Let me fix that,” he whispers.

You nod your head wordlessly. You wouldn’t dream of denying him, not right now. He smiles, pecking your lips again before he starts to kiss his way downwards. He explores your body with his mouth with such care it has you shaking under every brush his lips. He kisses all down your jaw and neck, taking extra time on your chest to map out the skin of your breasts with his tongue. He circles your right nipple with the tip of his tongue a few times over before he takes it in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth gently. It has your back arching into his mouth, hands scrambling for a purchase on the silk sheets. One long finger slides around your entrance and dips inside, shallow, then deeper, stretching you slowly, carefully, while his other hand rubs your clit with light, gentle touches. “Is this good?” Art asks quietly, voice tinged slightly with insecurity, like you’re not completely unraveling because of him.

“God yes! Yes – fuck! – Art,” you mewl loudly, hips grinding down roughly onto his finger, desperate to take in more of him. You can feel him smile against your skin, pulling off to blow cool air over your hard nipple and repeating it all over again on your left. His finger slides through the wetness collecting in your hole, spreading it to your throbbing clit. He finally sinks a single finger into the warm, tight, heat of your cunt.

Art pulls away from your chest to kiss his way down your stomach, sliding lower and lower on the huge king size mattress, he doesn’t stop the rhythm of his fingers as he peels your shorts down your legs, tossing them aside. A guttural groan leaves his lips at the sight of your slick cunt parting over his fingers, taking them so well. He pitches forward like he can’t help himself, like his lips are magnetically drawn to your cunt, and presses a small kiss to your clit. 

“Fuck!” You squeal and writhe as his finger fucks in and out of you, hands tangling in his messy hair, cheeks flushing at the sound of your leaking cunt squelching against his wrist with each thrust. Art's lips tighten over your clit, sucking for a brief second before he moves back to start laving his tongue over your cunt in careful, slightly clumsy, strokes. The sounds he's making, almost filthy slurping, accompanied by little moans now and then send small vibrations through you that shock your system, making you fist his hair even tighter. 

Art’s lewd noises fill the air, mixing with your own moans to fill the room. His eyes stay closed for the most part, fluttering open every couple seconds to watch you fall apart. Your thighs shake uncontrollably around his head when you make eye contact, threatening to clamp around his ears and keep him there.

A sob tears from your throat when he adds another finger, then he curls them inside you and pulls back and god, shit, shit, fuck, fuck me, god, Art, please fuck me.

“Fuck me Art please fuck me I need it so bad please-” you ramble nonsensically, pulling at Art’s hair desperately. You can feel the warmth starting to pool in your stomach, but you don’t want to come on his tongue, or on his fingers, you want to come with him inside you.

Art lets you drag him up, the bottom half of his face is slick and shiny, drenched in your wetness. He makes his way up your body quickly, hands gripping tightly to your hips, not hesitating to kiss you even as your juices decorate his lips. You kiss back desperately, tasting yourself on his tongue. The head of his cock bumping against your twitching, empty hole has you whining. 

“Fuck me, Art,” you breath hotly, hips canting up needily. “No condom, I’m on the pill. I want you to come inside me. Please, I need it.”

Slowly, he starts to sink in. Feeding you inch by inch torturously slow. He kisses you the whole time, greedily swallowing the moans flowing out of your mouth as he stretches your cunt on his thick cock. You grab at his shoulders like a lifeline, kissing back with everything you have.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he says through gritted teeth, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. “So fucking perfect for me, such a perfect pussy for my cock.”

“Move.” Is all you can manage to squeak out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders.

Art starts to move, thrusts slow and gentle, like he’s easing you into it. You’re grateful for it, you’ve never taken anyone as big as him. Slowly, his thrusts speed up, cut hips smacking against the fat of your ass a little rougher than before. You revel in it, pushing your ass back greedily for more more more. From this angle, the thick head of his cock drags against your g-spot perfectly every time he plunges back into your dripping cunt.

“Shit! Right there, don’t stop,” you slur breathlessly, feeling the familiar warmth swirling through your stomach as he fucks you.

“I love you.” Art confesses against your lips, his breath hot and erratic. His sweaty forehead pressed to yours as he pounds in and out of you, the motion both relentless and tender. His eyes are wide open now, so blue and so big and so honest as they bore into yours so intensely it’s suffocating.

It’s soon, it’s way too soon. You’ve barely known each other for a couple months, but you can't deny the warmth spreading through your chest, mingling with the heat of the moment, making everything feel both overwhelming and perfect.

Now that you're here, with Art’s cock fitting so perfectly in the wet heat of your cunt, you can’t believe it took you this long. You love Art. You’ve been in love with Art since the first time he spoke to you. Since the first time he touched you like you were the solution to all his problems.

Art must take your stunned silence as rejection, head falling to rest on your shoulder dejectedly, but his hips don’t slow their rhythm. If anything he speeds up, hips thrusting against you desperately.

“Please, please say it back,” he begs, voice thick with emotion, “Say it back, I need to hear you say it. Please,”

You surge up, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you can, ankles locking together across his back. Art couldn’t pull out of you if he wanted to, judging from the long whine he lets out, he doesn’t mind.

“I love you, Art” You whisper back, barely audible over the lewd slap of his hips stinging your ass. Art groans so loudly you can feel it reverberating off the sensitive skin of your neck.

Hips speeding up even faster, Art turns his head to catch your lips in a searing kiss. This kiss is different than any of the other ones you’ve shared tonight, full of so much emotion and unspoken words. You swear you feel your heart grow three sizes, almost full and threatening to break out of your chest.

“I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna fucking come,” he breathes between kisses. You can only moan in response, right on the brink of your own orgasm. His hips start to lose their rhythm as he chases it, fucking into you faster and harder.

Art’s cock gives a final twitch inside you before his hips are stilling and he’s coming with a broken moan, unloading everything he has into you. You’re right behind him, vision whiting out as you come, thighs shaking where they’re draped around his hips. 

Art collapses onto you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high of your orgasm’s. You lay like that for a while, heaving and sweaty wrapped up in each other's arms. You feel something slot into place, something that you’ve been missing.

Art’s soft voice pierces through the afterglow, “Will you hold me?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, circling your arms around his shoulders.

…

When you wake up hours later you’re beyond thirsty, dehydrated from all the crying, and maybe from the sex. Art’s head is laying across your bare chest, tousled hair tickling your jaw and arms snug around your waist. He looks so peaceful, eyes closed with his long lashes fanning over his cheeks. The sound of his steady breathing is almost enough to lull you right back to sleep. You smile softly, running your hands through his hair slowly. Savoring how at peace he looks, so different from the battered, broken man you met.

You slip out of his arms as carefully as possible, not wanting to wake him. Rolling out of bed to search half-assedly for your clothes in the darkness. You can’t find your shirt, only your underwear and shorts. You notice a red shirt strewn over the dresser next to the bed, illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the blinds. You pick it up without thinking, it's soft in your hands, the fabric thin and worn down. You toss it on before padding out of the bedroom.

You get a little lost in your thoughts as you make your way to the kitchen, Art loves you.

The thought has you biting back a giddy smile. Art loves you and you love him too. It sounds fucking crazy, but you know it’s true. Your life is so completely fucked, you don’t know if you care.

Art loves you.

Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you turn the corner, arms wrapped around yourself tightly, the warmth of Art's affection lingering like a gentle caress.

“He smiles more.”

The soft voice ringing out from your left makes you stop in your tracks. You turn, and there in the kitchen illuminated by the soft glow of the ceiling light, like an angel, is Tashi Duncan. 

Tashi looks at you from her spot across the room with an impassive look on her face, she’s got your keys in one hand, fiddling with them boredly. When you don't reply she speaks again, "He's playing better, won the last three tournaments he was in." She says casually, setting her half full wine glass down on the island.

You don't need to ask her who "he" is.

You're silent for a few more beats as she stares at you expectantly, silently urging you to say something. You rack your brain for a response, caught like a deer in headlights under Tashi's gaze.

"What?" you softly mutter, words cutting through the air weakly.

Tashi sighs in exasperation, like you're a child who doesn't understand the simple question she's asking. She raises her wine glass back to her lips, draining the rest of it before setting it down once more and making her way over to you.

You know you should flee, make a break for the door before she reaches you. Running away from the woman whose husband you’re fucking - whose husband you just got done fucking, and who told you he loved you - while she pays you seems like the easiest thing to do in the moment, but you don't.

You find yourself glued to the spot as Tashi's commanding presence looms over you, until she's all you can see. Until her expensive smelling perfume is all you can breathe, until she's towering over you, miles of soft skin on display in a classy black nightie.

She stares down at you, her face completely unreadable. It feels like hours as her brown eyes burn into yours, your heart must be beating a thousand beats per second.

When Tashi finally moves, it’s her hand you see rising up in your peripheral vision. At first you think she's going to hit you, get you back for sleeping with her husband, for falling in love with her husband. You tense up, bracing for the slap, it would be the least of what you deserve, but it never comes.

Instead, Tashi's hand finds its way up to the side of your face, cupping your cheek gently. You can feel the chilled metal of her wedding band make contact with your warm skin.

You feel like you might pass out staring into the eyes of Tashi Duncan. Everything you ever wanted in high school flashing rapidly right before your eyes.

If Art Donaldson is the sun, Tashi is the moon. Her light draws you in and keeps you looking at her, and never wanting to look away.

Her thumb slides across your bottom lip, the same lip that’s kissed her husband. Ever so slightly, she pushes the tip of her thumb into your parted lips, far enough to touch your bottom teeth. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening in shock, your pulse is fluttering wildly. You distantly wonder if she can feel it on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m his coach, I need to be hard on him or he fails. I refuse to let him fail,” she says softly, tone casual like she’s not brushing the tip of your tongue with her fingers. “But I’m not stupid, I know what he needs. Someone sweet, someone gentle, someone who looks at him and doesn’t see tennis.”

You couldn’t answer her if you wanted to, but you wouldn’t trust yourself to speak anyway. You feel far away and floaty the longer her fingers sit in your mouth, your brain feels like molasses.

“I can’t give him what he needs. I’m not that kind of person,” Tashi says, eyes roaming your face languidly, like she’s window shopping your features. Her voice is nearly a whisper the next time she speaks, “but you are. You could be that for him.”

Your heart drops, the haze surrounding your brain rips away so violently, like someone took a leaf blower to it. Her words make everything start to fall into place, the at home visits, the “exclusive deal”, the weird ass run-ins you’ve had with her over the weeks. 

This was never about the goddamn massages.

For a few seconds you both stay like that. Standing inches away from each other in the half-lit kitchen of her and Art's house. For a second, you think you can see the tiniest smile playing on her lips before she drops her hand from you completely.

"There’s a car waiting for you outside,” she says, still close enough that you can feel her breath fan over your face, “See you next Thursday."

Tashi turns on her heels and leaves you alone, disappearing down the long hallway leading to her and Art's bedroom. You watch the whole time she goes, until she completely fades into the shadows. Your lip still tingling from her touch.

There’s only one thing on your mind as you incredulously stare down the now empty hall…

These people are so fucking weird.

[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

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@sharonxdevi @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @foxinnie8 @riraives

[ay0nha]

Please Forgive Me | Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch

SUMMARY: You needed to let go of the illusion that it could have been any different. You were both slowly losing yourselves and your patience. Instead, resented for being weathered and callous. But the pain and hurt were still there; nobody acknowledged how it had gone so long ignored.

Where you and Robby explore the first steps towards Ho'oponopono.

PAIRING: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!attending!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

WARNINGS: Canon-typical things, blood, death, smoking, Myrna, ANGSt-heavy, the "Kraken" mentions (mental health is no joke, I have opinions), seizure mentions (also no joke, although used humorously), plot driven by movie magic, reader getting physically hurt, flashbacks, arguments, fluff if you squint, word vomit, therapy session w/Kiara, mentions of terminal cancer, incarcerated patient, razor blades, glass, (let me know if I missed anything, I've been staring at this too long), etc.

Inspired by @skulandcrossbones's post, @xxdrixx's post, and @sunkissedburns' post. Also inspired by Joan Didion, that one Grey's episode, and other things I can't remember, so remind me if I missed things. CREDIT GOES WHERE IT IS DUE.

A/N: So I REWROTE this part because it was just Not It for me tbh. It didn't hold the angst/vibes I wanted it to, so please forgive me (*wink*) if this is confusing or jumbled, I just felt like this fit better for what I'm trying to do. Comments are HEAVILY encouraged; they truly keep me going and motivated to write. Many thanks to @hummusforthewin, @est1887, and @sunfairyy for helping me out! Enjoy.

prologue

“They all say ‘Life doesn’t work that way,’ ‘Live with the consequences and learn,’ ‘No one can cheat the system,’ but I did.” You paused, letting the admission be a placeholder. “Why would I regret that? They want to humanize everything; they just see wanting to die as a crime.”

Kiara always started with a baseline. It helped ease you into conversations you avoided. Yet, today the air was different. You came in with vexation. You kept storing up all that anger. You hoped for it to spill over. Otherwise, you’d drown in it. 

“And you don’t?” Kiara prompted. She was subtle with her interjections, learning your habit to retreat when prodded. 

You’d already mourned what could have been, what would not be, what you couldn't save. It was a daily practice. But this, what got you here, this was different. This didn’t come with the same leverage of sadness and authenticity; this felt radical even for you.  

“I’ve seen so much life and death that it’s become one and the same.” You continued. “I’m not trying to be clever, here…I just—” Another pause before you decidedly gave up. “—don’t get it.” 

Kiara hummed. She balanced her opinions well. She never pressed you too far, but you could tell that with your little progress, she needed to be more critical. 

“How poetic.” Kiara rested her hands on her lap. It was picture professional, minus the smirk settled on her face. “Yet another doctor who thinks they can control life—death. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”  

“Administration doesn’t see it that way.” You welcomed being brought down from a pedestal. It was the last thing any doctor’s ego needed.  “Aren’t I lucky?”

“Who doesn’t?” She challenged, eyebrow perked. “You gave Gloria more paperwork, but more than that,  she doesn’t have the time—or energy to evaluate your morals, frankly.” 

“Dana—

“Please,” Kiara laughed. 

You frowned. 

There was no point in arguing; you’d fallen for the bait you’d spent weeks avoiding. Kiara saw it firsthand, eyes always finding yours when you were both on the floor of the ED. It was easy to brush off, blaming time and urgency. 

Now, you were just stuck, trapped. Your eyes fled to the clock, its slowness insulting you. 

“Everyone’s eyes are always on me, waiting for me to crack with regret, with…guilt…” You held in the bitter laugh, knowing the reaction would be scribbled down. Your humor wasn’t always appreciated. “...but—nothing. I know what I did and I didn’t hesitate.”

As the topic shifted, the spacious room felt like it was suddenly collapsing in on you. You kept your breathing even. You learned young that nobody touched you when you looked sharp, but Kiara’s gaze could see through whatever facade you felt the need to put up. 

“If Robby is who you’re referring to…” She eyed you as she pressed further. 

“Robby?” You scoffed, echoing Kiara’s humor. “Please.”

“Your anger seems pointed.”  Kiara was specific with her words, adjusting in her seat. 

The office felt awfully small.

Robby stood far away from you, leaning against the opposing wall stiffly with hands in his pockets. His hair was a mess, a clear indication of the utter frustration he was in. 

Despite the distance, the tension between the two of you was palpable. He was absolutely livid.

Deservedly so. You should have listened to him and stayed out of it, but you didn’t—couldn’t. Now you had to simply stand and take whatever he was about to throw at you.

You swallowed the knot in your throat, preparing for a half-hearted apology. “I’m so—”

“You—” He straightened himself, finger pointed out in accusation, “—had one job. I asked you to stay out of it— no, I ordered you to stay out of it. And what the hell do you do? The absolute fucking opposite. The actual fuck were you doing?”

Robby’s eyes narrowed deeper, the sharpness of the glare hitting you right in the chest. You flinch. “What makes you think you can ignore the rules? Have you forgotten that I’m your attending? I—”

“Do not pull rank with me.” You snapped. So much for just standing there and taking it. “You know damn well I am just as competent as you are.”

“Competent doesn’t mean that you’re—” Robby paused, taking in a tight breath. His voice stayed level, a refusal to let his anger get the best of him. “You were reckless. Out of line. I have to pull rank if you choose to act like one of the students.  What is not clear here?”

 You can’t help the bitter laugh that burst from your lips. You had a meanness inside you, real as an organ. With a slit down your belly, it might slide out, meaty and dark, drop on the floor just so you could stomp on it. 

“You can pretend to be Adamson all you want, but this morning, you froze.” Low blow. But the ripple of emotion in Robby’s face was satisfying.“ So, sure, I’m fucking sorry for taking things into my own hands when you couldn’t.”

“This was not your patient, and you are too stubborn to understand that. Now she’s dead.” Robby kept going, “Gloria is expecting you this afternoon. You will listen to her if you want to stay here. Don’t fuck up again.”

You tried opening your mouth, but nothing came out; your face was too hot, too hurt, too full of rage. 

“I’m not angry.” A lie.

“What’s your diagnosis then?” Kiara was kind, her tone carrying her warmth. 

Just like most people in the ED, you struggled to show your appreciation for Kiara. She was always present and shared everyone’s bad days. She braved the follow-through once the doctors walked away after the patient stabilized. She not only took on the burdens of the patients, but also the doctors. 

The guilt made you prickle. 

“She was going to die anyway. By my hand or theirs.” You put it starkly. “I just made her fate more bearable��she deserved the dignity…” 

You had never addressed what you had done so directly. It always lingered as something you both just knew. Everyone knew. It was memorable. You sat in the quietness, letting your words sink in, remembering the day the Earth stood still. 

“...what I did was wrong. I was willing to lose my license—prepared even.” Your arms crossed across your chest protectively, your voice becoming hushed. “But Robby—Robby told me I was playing God..…can you believe that?”

The words came to you so suddenly, it felt like you’d lost your breath. They wrapped around you like a boa. You heard them when you slept, and they loitered until you rubbed the exhaustion from your eyes. It had never cracked down on you like this.

“And now, this—” You gestured around you. “It’s a Sisyphean act, never-ending, useless—whatever you want to call the write-up, the babysitting, the obligation, the—t-the…”

One must imagine Sisyphus happy. Robby’s words mocked you. 

“You can convince anyone that I meant well. Robby, though? You’d die trying.” You jeered. “He expects me to be grateful for keeping me here. Prick.”

Kiara was proud; you could see it in the soft look she gave you. The foundation was finally laid bare to explore. 

Yet, you recoiled at your vulnerability. At your harshness. It shocked you, how gentle a tug it took to unravel everything that you built up. Truthfully, you were petrified. The core issue had been exposed, and you felt like a child throwing a tantrum. 

However, it took many years of vomiting up all the filth you’d been taught about yourself, and half believed, before you were able to walk on the earth as though you had a right to be there. You’d be damned to forget that because of him.

—

The ED was slow. 

No one acknowledged it; everyone was too superstitious to. 

The quiet no longer felt like rest. The weather consisted of sleet that kept everyone off the streets. All that could be done was to wait idly for those who were brave enough to come in and those who had no choice but to succumb to the danger of it all. 

The snow fueled your smoke break; it was a subconscious way to find warmth and stave off the anxiety that lingered from your morning with Kiara. Neither was remedied. Instead, your fingers were stiff from the temperature, and there was no relief from how the pit in your stomach grew. 

“I could fake a seizure.” 

“Too ‘boy who cried wolf’…” You shook your head. The strike of your lighter was motivated by agitation. On the first exhale of your newly-lit cigarette, you said, “It has to be a…casual—believable lie.”

“All this for what? Feelings?” Myrna gestured at the air with mocking disgust. “I know a thing or two about a crime of passion.”

“Robby’s allergic.” Something swirled in your chest, but you brought the cigarette to your lips to suffocate it. 

“Oh, honey, I knew you were stupid, but not that stupid.” Myrna cracked with humor. Her insults made you feel electric. Normal. They humbled every egotistical vein in your body. “Robby looks at you with nothing but feelin’.”

“That ‘look’ is….” Disgust? Resentment? Loathing? “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I’d bend him over my knee for what he did to you.” Myrna carried on with her opinions, humoring herself as she continued. “I like big butts and I cannot lie…”

Your eyes sparkled with the image. You’d pay good money to see Robby’s face painted with discomfort. His self-control irked you, got under your skin without even trying. It used to drive a competitive friction between you both, one that was light, teasing, even. But it festered to the point it controlled you; you relied on proving a point. 

“Breach of duty, my ass.” She barked. “So you were a drug dealer, so what! I know plenty. God forbid you did something about healthcare in this country.”

“Myrna,” You warned. You wish you were just a ‘drug dealer.’ Instead, you became the judge, jury, and executioner.  “When are you going to stop bringing it up?”

“When you do something better.”  

“It’s temporary, anyways.” You said more to remind yourself. It hadn’t quite stuck as a mantra, but it was enough to get you through a shift. “Family emergency? No—Robby would call my sister and that’s—

“Find an obituary.” Myrna shrugged. “You’ve got four grandparents to choose from.”

“Can’t.” You filtered smoke through your nose, half-lidded eyes remaining ahead. The thought caused your lips to tingle with indifference. Deep down, you knew nothing would change.  “Used that one not too long ago, Robby’d sniff that out…”

“You asked me how to get him off your back: seizure.” Myrna snapped playfully, not letting your eyes glaze over for too long. “Give me a few minutes, I’m sure I can start foaming at the mouth.” 

“He’s already onto us.” You didn't have it in you anymore to struggle and fight and suffer; you wanted to enjoy the quiet when you could find it. You smiled. “‘Fruitcake,’ though—that always gets me through the day.”

“Happy to oblige.”  She snorted. “Now, if you really need him gone—I can make it look like an accident.” 

A laugh bubbled through your chest. “I’ll remember that for when I really need it.”

“Listen, girlie…” Myrna gave you the least offensive nickname in the ED. It was why you passed the dwindling cigarette to her; you always played favorites. “...whatever you do, don’t bet on a losing dog.”

You hummed in response. You didn’t need to look too deeply into her words, but you knew they’d ring true when things got too quiet, when you’d want to avoid them the most. 

“I’ve made that mistake before, and lemme tell you: not worth it.” She smothered the roach on her wheelchair, flicking the remains to melt into the snow. “Sad eyes comin’ in, twelve o’clock.” 

The hospital door popped the bubble created. The interruption was overdue. 

“Everything alright out here?” Robby’s voice was traced by the cold air, cautious enough not the call too much attention but aware enough to know you weren’t.  

“Just gettin’ some air.” Your sigh was heavy. Your day was not ruined. Your world was not over. Take a deep breath. It’s just temporary. 

“Patients shouldn’t be out here.” Robby's lips pressed together. You knew he wasn’t surprised, but entirely unimpressed. 

“I don’t clock in for another…” You looked at your watch. “...eight minutes. Not my circus, not my patient.” 

“Myrna.” He greeted her. Robby ignored you, nodding to the nurse who followed him out. “Please make sure someone keeps an eye on her.” 

Before being rolled past him, Myrna winked at you. “Fruitcake.”

Robby stayed quiet, head dipping with feigned politeness. 

You looked ahead, avoiding his eyes. It gave a moment for Robby to imagine the way your fingers deftly played with your lighter. The way your side profile was traced as you exhaled the smoke. The smell lingered, and his finger twitched with desire. 

From your peripheral vision, you watched Robby rock on his heels, wanting to say something. You didn’t smoke often, so he knew nerves formed the habit. His attentiveness made you nauseous. 

“Need something, doctor?” You snapped first. 

“Nicotine lowers the seizure threshold...” He hummed. You focused on Robby carefully, watching how his disappointment fed through his body language. “...but there’s no way Myrna can smoke with those handcuffs, right?” 

“Right.” Your tone was always tight around him. Sterile. “I’ll meet you inside.”

You meant to be firm. To give Robby no option other than to leave you to the cold. However, the more you spoke, the more he lingered. 

“You’re gonna freeze out here.” His hands were deep in his pockets, as if talking about himself. “Coffee’s fresh in the lounge.”

“I’ve got a few more minutes until the frostbite kicks in.” You clicked your teeth with sarcastic resistance. 

Robby left, his attempt futile. He only got a few strides away before bursting. 

“You’ve got to stop—” Robby rubbed his palms to his eyes. “Besides it being extremely unprofessional, you’re doing my head in. You fucked up. Accept it.” 

Your eyes widened. It was early for him to be fed up with you. It usually hit after the day’s first coding, or if Gloria hit below the belt. This was new. Anger rarely settled so explicitly in Robby’s voice. 

You were always quick to retaliate. “You think I enjoy this?” 

“I’m starting to think you do, yeah,” Robby egged you on. He’d come to his boiling point. “We save lives, we work with the circumstances given to us. We strategize. We treat. We cope—

“She swallowed razor blades—” You bit. Prepared.  “—then, a lightbulb, Robby! How’s that for coping, huh?”

“She wanted a break from solitary, do you know how many incarcerated—

“She did what she did because she had to.” 

“That is not for you to decide.” Robby provoked in a low voice. Hissed. “And neither was her death.”

“She was metastatic! What difference would it have made?” Your words were weak with exasperation. Yet again, a repeated conversation. “What I did was safe and comfortable. No one deserves to go through that in prison—”

“She would have received another round of radiation—”

“She was non-responsive to chemo for years.” You laid the well-known facts bare. The patient wouldn’t have made it to the end of the month. It was a surprise that the ED was able to bring her back. “Besides, you know prisons are the first place the shortages affect.”

Robby spoke to you distinctly. Professionally. He didn’t delve into morals or politics, but standards of care, something he was usually willing to be flexible on. He was the first to put himself on the line or take the hit for perilous risks. Yet, now he suddenly remembered standard treatment: evaluations that measure the quality and adherence to established medical protocols or best practices. 

“We did what we were supposed to do.” Those textbook methods always forgot how much empathy could treat. “You went rogue.” 

“This is more than that—”  The air stilled. This was new. Things haunted. Things existed long after they’d been smothered. “—and you know it.”

You remained leaning against the brick building. It’s frigidness bled through your thin scrubs. Yet, you could feel the warmth, the frustration, in Robby’s movement towards you.  

“What are you saying?” The lines of worry between his eyebrows deepened, and hands hands pulled at the ends of his stethoscope to stop fidgeting.  Yet, they couldn’t decide to settle with irritation or confusion.  

“I doubt you would’ve batted an eye for Abbott, Langdon—Jesus—even Whitaker.” You finally confessed the truth, your anger. “They’d get a slap on the wrist. Yet, I’m not allowed to be anything but perfect; you second-guess my every breath, Robby.”

You’d noticed it before, a pattern when Robby was sinking. The days were hard, the hours unrelenting. The times that were harder than others, his inclinations, conscious or not, took control. Robby moved on instinct, but it always revealed how he saw you. 

Now, he understood. You accepted your so-called punishment. You just expected more from him. Disappointment was never a welcome feeling, and it struck Robby sharply, painfully. He didn’t move fast enough to apologize, so you did. 

You pushed off the wall, the eight minutes up. “Forgive me that losing this patient only proved my point.” 

—

Mr. Krakozhia woke up. 

The sedation wasn’t monitored. The fault didn’t fall on anyone when the ED had resources spread thin; no available beds, never enough nurses, and emergencies that required split attention. 

No one volunteered to restrain the ‘Kraken.’ Robby declined Dana’s request for assistance, merely providing a verbal order for sedation. Nurses, inexperienced learners, and you were left to haphazardly fill the gaps. All your strength combined, you still received a boot to the mouth. 

A metallic taste spread in your mouth. You tongueed at the teeth that’s nerves felt stunned. All twenty-eight were accounted for, but blood spilled from your tongue and lip. 

“Oh, he got you—you alright, kid?” Dana laughed sympathetically, pulling you up from where you’d been knocked back. “I’ll keep ‘em off your back for a little. Take a break. You know the drill: direct pressure, cold compress.” 

You had a love-hate relationship with hospitals. You thought they were always too bright with a bleak atmosphere. There were phones constantly ringing, monitors always beeping, people coughing all of the air out of themselves; everything was too overwhelming to the senses.

So, your attempt to decompress, to stop your lip from throbbing against your heartbeat, was always found in the stairwell. They were rarely used and acted as a sound barrier to the city’s whelm. 

You sighed heavily, letting your head drop. 

The tears that fell from your cheeks left dark bruises on your scrubs. Quiet, like they always do. You wiped at your eyes; your tears felt like a burden. But they wouldn’t stop until they ran out. Then, you were still and silent. Because if you opened your mouth, you were afraid you'd never stop screaming.

“Hey—” 

You hadn’t heard the door creak. Or felt the hand that rested on your shoulder. It was the first time in a long time you didn’t flinch. The words I’m fine died before you could breathe them out. Instead, Robby met you at your level, sitting on the stairs next to you. 

“Let’s take a look.” Robby’s gloves were pulled on with dexterity. Your bloodshot eyes were wide, reading worry on his expression. Robby assessed you softly. Even softer when you winced.  “Tender?” 

“Dana told you where to find me?” You exhaled slowly, the edge of defiance in your posture softening into something a little more tired.

“She could only hold me off for so long.” He pulled his gloves off, hands retreating tentatively. “Feeling dizzy, headache…did you hit your head?”

“No LOC, EOM intact, just a busted lip.” 

Your pupils were wide with stress, but they were equal and reactive. You knew Robby wouldn’t press further, but he was reading into every twitch and movement just in case he missed something crucial. But he knew not to misread your calmness, healthcare assault, accidental, incidental, or not, happened. 

For the past few shifts, you didn’t need to avoid Robby. He gave you space, still processing your last interaction. You wouldn’t admit it, as if felt hypocritical, but it was strange not having him close. Even his eyes had stopped tracking you, and it felt like something was wrong. 

It felt like your fault that one day you both woke up, no longer speaking the same language. You hadn’t heard from him since. You couldn’t translate how badly Robby wanted to tell you he knew you didn’t need to be saved, protected. That you needed to be found and appreciated. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Robby started, but you heard an undercurrent of hesitation. Nothing haunted him more than the things he didn’t say. “About what you said…”

You’d been thinking too. 

You knew he’d been trying to catch you for days. Weeks. But his irritability got in the way. Impatience for Gloria got in the way. He had trouble sleeping, and when he was awake, he was vigilant. Then, when you didn’t see him, you knew he carried his sadness to the roof.  

“Let’s not—not now, at least.” Your plea was soft. You cleared your throat, as if telling the tears that pricked your waterline to stop. 

“Okay.” Robby swallowed everything with that tight-lipped, polite smile and nod. That smile that he wore—it didn’t shine. Soft and a little sorry. It settled over guilt.

You needed to let go of the illusion that it could have been any different. Both Robby and you were slowly losing yourselves and your patience. Instead, resented for being weathered and callous. But the pain and hurt were still there; nobody acknowledged how it had gone so long ignored.

You were both stalling, not used to being so close for so long. You both desired one last deep breath, but the air was running out. You both didn’t know how to exist so softly. 

You heard a new tone when people asked how you were, a tone you had not noticed before and found increasingly distressing, even humiliating: these people seemed impatient, half-concerned, half querulous, as if no longer interested in the answer. As if all too aware that the answer will always be a complaint. 

You’d been trained to speak, if asked how you were, only positively. That was healthcare; you were not allowed to not be OK. You framed the cheerful responses. What you believed to be the cheerful response, as you framed it, emerged, as others hear it, more like a whine. 

Do not whine. Do not complain. Work harder. Spend more time alone, you told yourself. 

You listened. 

You did not whine when hunger sawed your body in half. You did not complain when, after you worked for hours, trying to get the sound of a sentence right. You bled politely all over Pittsburgh. 

However, the cold was catching up to you. So was the exhaustion. It weakened your senses and put your emotions at the forefront. You wanted to be held, to be cared for in ways you couldn’t provide alone. Robby was familiar with the feeling, but was better at hiding the ache. 

Now, Robby could handle your anger. Anger was good. Anger meant that there was something he could react to, challenge. But your self-restraint dwindled. The smallest gesture of affection brought a lump to your throat, whether it was directed to you or at someone else.

So, Robby stood, hand reaching for yours. He had the awkward tenderness of someone who had never been loved and was forced to improvise. 

“Ready?” For the chaos.

He pulled you gently, eyes still roaming you for discontent. It felt good, as if one thing were normal. The rest of the shift, you knew he’d be back to lingering, back to playful chiding that would burn your skin, and watching you so closely for any pain he could relieve. 

It wasn’t a long-term solution, but this shift’s abatement. 

“Yeah, yeah,” You sniffed through your words, clearing any emotions that loitered. “I want a good case after that beating.” 

Once you stood, Robby was going to release you from what he suspected was torture. Yet, your grip tightened, palm to palm. You clung to his hand so that something human could exist in the chaos. Hand in unlovable hand, you stay attached until the buzzing took over at the nurse’s station. 

Robby understood why people held hands: He'd always thought it was about possessiveness, saying, "This is mine." But you had revealed to him that it was about maintaining contact, speaking without words, and saying, regardless of everything, "I want you with me, and don't go."

[jazzy11scorpio]

Turns Out, He Liked Me Too

Chapter 1 Office Secrets

Summary: You're an assistant with a secret crush on your boss, Harry Castillo. After your fiancé cheats on you, a late night at work turns into unexpected encounter with Harry, who's also dealing with heartbreak.

Pairing: Reader x Harry Castillo

Tags ⚠️: Adult Content, MDNI, smut with plot, age gap (early 30's / late 40's), use of Y/N, unprotected sex, mention of cheating, boss/assistant, quickie, rough sex, oral sex (m/f), dirty talk, squirt, breast play, office sex, creampie, power dynamics, SMUT.

Word count: 3,7 k

Note: Hello, my dear readers! I'm back again! I've deleted my old blog, so consider this a fresh start. My writing inspiration has returned, and I'm so excited to share this new story with you. I really hope you enjoy it.

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

It was Monday morning, the start of another busy work week at Castillo Company. Your life felt… okay. You had a good job, someone you were going to marry, a future that looked right on paper. But under your calm life, you had growing feelings for your boss, Harry Castillo.

For the last two years, you had worked for him. You started at a low-level job, but you worked hard and were smart, so you quickly became his helper. Now, near the end of this time, you knew all about his business and helped him every day.

You really respected him. Harry was everything you liked in a leader: smart, driven, and surprisingly down-to-earth even though he was very rich. He was always nice and treated you with more care than just what you'd expect from a boss. Sometimes, that care even felt… personal. You'd see him look at you for a moment longer than needed, a warm feeling in his brown eyes that made your heart beat faster. But he was a good person and never did anything wrong, always acting like a boss should.

Still, those looks and that extra bit of kindness made you wonder "what if?" You tried to ignore it and focus on getting married and the future you had planned. But hiding your feelings for Harry felt like holding your breath – a constant, small worry.

This Monday was different from the start. Harry, who was always on time, was late. When he finally arrived, he seemed a little different. He seemed a bit happier, with a small smile, but his clothes looked a bit messy, which was not normal for him.

He walked into his office and quickly said, "Morning, [Y/N]," like a young boy, before sitting in his leather chair. "Coffee, please," he asked, his voice a little rough.

As you turned to make his usual black coffee, you felt a bit worried and also curious. What had made him late and act so unusual? And more importantly, how would this slightly strange start to the week make it harder to ignore your growing feelings for Harry?

You bring Harry his coffee, and the strong smell fills his office. "Good morning, Harry," you say, "Just a reminder, you have a meeting with the Sterling Group at ten, and Mr. Davies from accounting will come by around eleven."

He takes a thankful drink, a real smile on his face. "Thank you, [Y\N]. You always save the day." He sounded happier than usual.

You ask carefully, "Did you have a good weekend, Harry?" It was a normal question you often asked, but today, you were more curious than usual.

His smile got bigger, a bit more private this time. "Actually, yes, it was… quite nice." He stopped for a moment, then added, almost like he just remembered, "Could you order a very fancy bunch of red roses for me? Have them ready for tonight, around six." He looked at his watch.

A small, tight feeling started in your chest. So, there was someone. A date. Tonight. You imagined the beautiful red roses, which mean love and romance, and you felt a small, sharp feeling like jealousy, which you didn't want to feel. It reminded you that even though you worked closely with him, you weren't part of his personal life. The difference between boss and helper, between Harry and you, suddenly felt bigger and harder to cross.

You nod, trying not to show any emotion, putting on your work face. "Of course, Harry. A big bunch of red roses. Would you like a card with them?" You tried to sound calm and professional.

"Yes, a note would be a nice touch. Just something simple… for Lucy. How about: 'Looking forward to exploring where this beautiful serendipity might lead. Harry.'"

"Lucy?" you ask, the name feeling foreign and unwelcome on your tongue. You try to sound merely inquisitive, but a slight edge of curiosity, perhaps even a hint of something sharper, might have crept into your voice.

He leans back in his chair, a sigh escaping his lips. "Yes, Lucy. She's… quite something. A young matchmaker from New York. We met last night at Amelia and Charles' wedding party. Rather unexpectedly, actually."

A soft smile plays on his lips as he recounts the encounter. "Intelligent, driven… and quite charming, herself. I liked her. I'll swing by the florist around six to collect the roses before my date."

Young, ambitious, charming – everything you perhaps secretly wished you could be in his eyes, beyond just his efficient and reliable assistant.

Each word feels like a tiny poke to that little corner of your heart you try to keep locked away. Lucy. Met at a wedding – a party celebrating love. Sounds like things went well. And now, a date, complete with red roses and a casual but clearly interested note. It's a stark reminder that Harry has a life outside the office, a life that doesn't include you in that way. The lust you've been trying to ignore suddenly feels a little heavier, a little more… pointless. You make a mental note: red roses, card, Lucy, six o'clock pickup. Just another task. Right.

He leans back further in his chair, the earlier contentment still lingering. "And how was your weekend, [Y/N]?" he asks.

"It was fine, thank you," you reply. You manage a small smile, the practiced gesture feeling brittle and insincere even to your own ears. The image of Harry picking up those roses for another woman flashes in your mind, and the casual inquiry feels almost pointed, a stark reminder of the separate paths you walk.

Without waiting for a further response, you turn and leave his office, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on you.

The day just crawled by. Harry's happy face talking about Lucy kept popping into your head, which was annoying enough. But then you got home, opened the door, and BAM. There he was. Your fiancé. With some other woman. Right there in your living room.

Yeah, you kind of lost it. Like, full-on crazy. All that pent-up frustration from work, mixed with the shock of seeing that… you just snapped. You started yelling, screaming, chasing them out of the apartment like a maniac. It was a total mess. Your hands were shaking, your voice was cracking, you were just… done. Done with pretending everything was fine, done with being blindsided like that. The whole picture of your life just shattered in that one awful moment.

The silence that followed their hasty exit was deafening. The apartment, once your home now felt tainted, poisoned by their betrayal. A hollow ache spread through your chest, a crushing weight of heartbreak and disillusionment. You felt utterly betrayed, not just by him, but by the future you had envisioned.

That night, you didn't reach out to anyone. You poured yourself a drink, then another, the cheap liquor burning a temporary path down your throat, a poor substitute for the inferno raging inside you. Alone in the suddenly vast emptiness of your apartment, the reality of your broken engagement sank in. The pain was a raw, gaping wound.

Compounding the agony was the unwelcome resurgence of those feelings for Harry. The man you couldn't have, who was now happily pursuing someone else. The unfairness of it all was a bitter pill. You loved Harry, a love you had tried to bury, and now, the man you were supposed to love had just ripped your world apart. The irony was cruel, the pain almost unbearable. The alcohol numbed the edges, but the core of your being ached with a profound loneliness, a stark realization of the double loss you were now facing.

The next morning dawned with a pounding headache and the lingering taste of cheap whiskey. You were late, the numbers on your alarm clock a blurry insult. Still reeling from the night before, a potent cocktail of anger and heartbreak churning in your gut, you rushed to get ready, the events of the previous evening replaying in fragmented, painful flashes.

Arriving at the office, disheveled and clearly not yourself, your colleague, Sarah, intercepted you near your desk. "Hey, [Y/N]! Harry's been looking for you. Said you two have an important appointment together this morning." There was a hint of concern in her voice, likely noticing your state.

You found Harry in his office, walking back and forth near the window. He wasn't calm like usual; his shoulders were tight. He turned when you came in, you saw a quick flash of anger on his face.

"You're late, [Y/N]. Our meeting with Dubois is in fifteen minutes." His voice was sharp, showing he was not happy.

But when he really looked at you, the anger seemed to go away, and he looked worried instead. He saw that you looked messy, with dark circles under your eyes, and that you seemed very upset.

His voice became soft right away. "[Y/N]? Are you okay? You don't look well." The earlier anger was gone, replaced by a quiet worry that, surprisingly, felt a little bit comforting when you were so upset.

Your hands shook as you looked at him, and you still had some tears from last night on your eyelashes. "I... I'm sorry for being late, Mr. Castillo," you said, your words getting stuck in your throat.

He walked closer to you, he saw your hands shaking a little and that your eyes were red. Slowly, carefully, he reached out and gently touched your arm, just above your elbow. It was a quick touch, but it was the first time he had ever touched you when it wasn't about work.

Being so close suddenly felt strange. You could smell his cologne, a light, nice smell that was always around him. His touch, even through your sleeve, was surprisingly warm, very different from the cold feeling inside you.

Then he moved his hand to take your right hand, holding it firmly but gently. His brown eyes looked into yours, really wanting to know why you were upset. "[Y/N], what is it? You don't seem good. You can tell me."

The warmth of his hand and the worry in his voice almost made you cry. For a moment, you thought about telling him everything – the bad thing that happened, the sadness, how your life felt like it was falling apart. But then, you felt cold inside. You couldn't bother him with this. Not now. Not ever.

You pulled your hand back, feeling a shiver even though the office was warm. Your voice was flat, with no feeling. "It's... nothing, Harry. Just life. You know how it is. Life is hard sometimes, I guess." You tried to smile a little, but it didn't look real. "I'll be fine. Really."

He looked a little unsure, he looked at you for another moment, his eyes searching, like he was trying to see past your fake smile. Finally, he sighed softly, and you could tell he was still a little worried.

He nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, his voice softer now. "I hope so, [Y/N]. I really do. But if you need anything… anything at all…" He stopped talking, leaving the offer hanging in the air between you. He didn't ask more questions, respecting that you didn't want to talk, but you could still see the worry in his eyes.

The meeting with Dubois went by quickly. Your head hurt a little, like a quiet echo of the sadness inside you. Harry, on the other hand, seemed happier. His earlier worry was gone, and he seemed a little excited about something. You tried to pay attention to the meeting, but you kept thinking about his hand on your arm, that quick moment when you felt close.

The workday ended, and you walked out of the office building. The cool evening air felt a little bit better against the upset feeling inside you. As you walked down the busy street towards home, you saw him. Harry. He was standing near a corner, a small smile on his face, looking at his watch. He was waiting for someone.

And then she came. Lucy. Young, full of life, with a bright smile that looked like his. You could feel a strong connection between them as they looked at each other. He greeted her with a warm kiss and a long hug that showed they were very close. His smile, the one he gave her, was open and real, very different from the polite worry he had shown you earlier.

Watching them, you felt a sharp, painful feeling in your chest. It felt like your heart was breaking into many small pieces. What you saw was a clear sign of what you had been trying not to think about.

As they walked away together, you could hear their quiet laughter in the evening air. You stood there, unable to move, feeling very empty. The world felt like it was spinning, and the familiar city around you looked blurry.

A quiet, sad sound came from your mouth, a raw cry from the deep sadness inside you. "What's wrong with me?" The question hung in the air, with no answer, showing how lonely you felt. "Why doesn't anyone love me? Why doesn't anyone want me?" The fact that the person you were going to marry had hurt you, and now seeing Harry happy with someone else, was a very cruel double blow.

That night, you couldn't sleep. The darkness was all around you, and the only sound was your quiet crying, each tear showing how broken your heart was. You kept seeing Harry and Lucy in your mind, their easy affection making your own loneliness feel even worse.

Days turned into weeks, each day reminding you of how broken your life felt. The sharp pain from what your fiancé did had started to become a dull, constant ache. But seeing Harry so happy was like a new, sharp pain. He seemed… bright. He was lighter, happier than you had ever seen him. Sometimes he would hum quietly to himself, he smiled easily, and his usual serious look was often softened by a dreamy look in his eyes.

Then one day he called you into his office, with a big, almost childish smile on his face. He held out his hand, and you saw a small, shiny ring in his palm. "Look at this, [Y/N]," he said, his voice full of excitement. "Isn't it beautiful?"

You held your breath. It was very beautiful – a classic style with a diamond in the middle that shone brightly. You knew what it meant. This was for Lucy. A real sign of the happiness you could only watch from far away.

You felt a tight knot in your chest. You managed a weak smile, and your voice didn't show how upset you were. "It's... stunning, Harry. Absolutely beautiful."

The words felt like they tasted bad. It was almost cruel. He, the man you had feelings for, was now showing you how happy he was about getting married to someone else.

The casual way he showed you the ring, asking for your opinion, felt like a strange, painful twist. It was a clear, shiny reminder of the life you couldn't have, the love that would never be yours.

The days kept going by, each one showing how different your lives were. Harry stayed happy, and the thought of getting married made him even brighter. You, on the other hand, went through your days acting calm, but the constant ache of your own sadness stayed with you.

Then one evening came. You were working late, the only one left in the quiet office. The city lights made long shadows on your desk as you worked on a very hard project. The only sound was the tapping of your fingers on the keyboard.

Suddenly, the door to the outer office opened, and Harry walked in. He wasn't walking with his usual energy; he looked tired. His shoulders were bent, and he had a frown on his face. He looked… sad. And yes, you could see a bit of that familiar, controlled anger under the surface.

He walked into his office, threw his briefcase on the leather couch, and turned to you. "[Y/N]," he said, his voice low and a bit rough. "Order some dinner for us. Something filling. And maybe… a bottle of that Cabernet we like."

You nodded, feeling a bit worried instead of surprised that he was back. You quickly ordered the food, the quiet efficiency a normal thing in the suddenly tense air.

Soon, the smell of grilled steak and roasted vegetables filled the office. Harry had poured himself a glass of wine, the red liquid moving in his hand as he looked out at the city lights.

You sat across from him at the small table, and the silence felt long and full of things unsaid. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and quietly spoke. "Harry," you started, your voice soft. "Is everything okay? You seem… worried."

He took a long sip of his wine, the silence stretching between you, thick with unspoken emotions. He finally looked at you, his brown eyes clouded with a genuine sadness you hadn't seen before. "Why is love so damn hard?" he asked, the question almost rhetorical, a sigh escaping his lips.

He swirled the wine in his glass again, "I thought… I thought I felt something real. Something… significant." He paused, a bitter smile twisting his lips.

"Clearly, she didn't feel the same way. Lucy… she doesn't want to rush into marriage. Not yet, anyway."

He took another, larger gulp of the wine, the frustration evident in the set of his jaw. "Apparently, 'exploring where beautiful serendipity might lead' has a different timeline for her than it does for me."

He shook his head, a raw vulnerability in his expression. "No, worse than that. There's… someone else. She wants to be with someone else. Not me. What the hell is wrong with me?"

The raw pain in his voice hung in the air, mirroring the unspoken question that often echoed in your own mind.

You looked at Harry, your own recent pain still a raw ache in your chest. His raw vulnerability, the echo of your own question – "What's wrong with me?" – resonated deeply.

"Well," you said softly, your voice tinged with a weary understanding, "it's probably better she left you now, Harry. Better than finding her in bed with him later."

The image of your own devastating discovery flashed unbidden through your mind.

A flicker of realization crossed Harry's face, his brow furrowing as he truly saw you for the first time that evening. His gaze dropped to your bare ring finger.

"[Y/N]..." he started, his voice showing he was starting to understand. "Is that... is that why you haven't been wearing your ring anymore?" He looked back at you, his eyes searching, asking without words. "He...he cheated on you?"

One clear, simple word said yes to his question, a quiet way of agreeing about the shared sadness that suddenly connected you in a surprising and deep way. "Yes."

You looked at him, your own recent sadness still feeling fresh and painful. A strong feeling of wanting to protect him, a sudden wave of longing, grew inside you. Without thinking, the words came out, honest and real. "Harry," you said, your voice softer now, with a truth that cut through the tense feeling. "If I were her… I wouldn't wait even a moment to be your wife. To have the chance to love you…"

A deep quiet fell over him. He stopped moving, his eyes locked on yours, the sadness in his eyes slowly changing into something you couldn't read, a quick look of surprise, maybe even… understanding?

Suddenly, you felt very aware of yourself.

The wine you'd sipped felt like it had loosened your tongue too much. You stood up abruptly, a nervous energy coursing through you. "I… I should probably just… get back to work," you mumbled, avoiding his intense gaze. You knew you had crossed a line, revealed a truth you had tried so hard to conceal.

But before you could retreat, his voice, low and husky, stopped you in your tracks. "[Y/N]… wait."

A blush crept up your neck. "I... I'm sorry, Harry," you stammered, "This wine... I'm talking too much. Please, just forget I said anything." You tried to go away, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

His eyes, those warm brown eyes you had tried so hard not to dwell on, were now fixed intently on yours.

"No," he said, his voice low and unwavering. "Don't apologize. Don't take it back."

He stood up, closing the small distance between you. He took your hands, holding both of yours in his. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, a stark contrast to the sudden heat rising in your cheeks.

"Tell me, [Y/N]," he urged, his voice softer now, "Tell me what you feel."

He searched your eyes, a knowing look in his. "I've... I've noticed, you know. The way you look at me sometimes. The little things. But I didn't want to… I didn't think it was… appropriate. But tell me. Please."

His gaze was intense, unwavering, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to truly see the vulnerability reflected in his eyes, a mirror to the turmoil in your own heart.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, the alcohol in your system amplifying your anxiety. "Look, Harry," you said, your voice a little shaky. "We're probably both just a little drunk right now. And… and you don't want me. I'm your assistant. And let's be honest, I'm not exactly your type."

The image of the beautiful Lucy, the woman he had just been heartbroken over, flashed in your mind. She was everything you weren't – confident, worldly, seemingly his equal.

His grip on your hands tightened slightly, his gaze unwavering. "Why do you think that is, [Y/N]?" he asked you.

"You are so incredibly beautiful. And smart. You anticipate my needs before I even voice them. You're the most capable person I know."

He paused, his thumbs gently stroking the back of your hands. "The only reason I never… flirted with you, the only reason I kept a professional distance, was because I knew you were engaged. I respected that. I wouldn't have crossed that line for anything."

His gaze softened, a hint of something deeper flickering in his brown eyes. "But now… things are different, aren't they?"

His thumb brushed softly across your cheek, the unexpected tenderness sending a jolt through you. "Tell me, [Y/N]," he urged, his voice a low, persuasive murmur. "Come on." His eyes held yours, a silent question hanging in the air.

The intimacy of the touch, the raw vulnerability in his gaze, was almost overwhelming. You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a fleeting moment, the carefully constructed walls around your heart threatened to crumble.

But then, the image of Lucy, the beautiful ring, his earlier happiness, flashed through your mind. You pulled back, a sudden wave of doubt washing over you.

"Don't do this, Harry," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "You don't want this. You want her, Lucy. Not me. This is just… the wine. And pity."

"[Y/N]," he said, his voice firm, a hint of something akin to hurt in his tone. He reached out again, his hand gently cupping your other cheek, his gaze intense. "And who says I don't want you?" His eyes searched yours, a flicker of something undeniable igniting within their depths. "And don't tell me you don't feel it too. I know you want me, [Y/N]. I've seen it."

His gaze intensified, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me what you feel before, [Y/N]?" he asked, his voice a low, earnest murmur. "All this time… why the silence?"

You looked around him, a nervous energy bubbling up inside you. "What… what do you mean?" you stammered.

A wry smile touched your lips, a sudden boldness fueled by the wine and the raw honesty of the moment. "You wanted me to just… come in one morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? 'Good morning, Boss, here's your coffee. Oh, and by the way, I want you to fuck me right here on this table?'"

You gestured towards his imposing desk, then let your gaze drift to the supple leather couch in the corner. "Or maybe a more casual approach? 'Hello, Mr. Castillo Just wondering if you'd be interested in a little… riding session on that couch over there? Hmm?"

A surprised laugh escaped his lips, a genuine, unguarded sound that sent a thrill through you. He cursed softly under his breath, a mixture of shock and something else… something that felt a lot like desire.

He stepped closer, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, unexpected hug. His chin rested on the top of your head, and you could feel the warmth of his breath in your hair. "And you've been thinking all that about me, huh?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. The closeness was intoxicating, the unspoken tension finally beginning to crackle.

You leaned into his embrace, the unexpected warmth and security. "Yes, Harry," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper against his chest. "Every single day."

He tightened his hold, a low rumble vibrating in his chest. "Me too, darling," he admitted, his voice thick with a newfound intensity. "Every fucking moment I've seen you bent over your desk right here, I've imagined..."

Then he pulled back slightly, his eyes blazing with a raw, untamed desire. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice rough. "If you had only told me all this before… you have no idea how much I've wanted you."

Without another word, he swept you up into his arms, the suddenness of the movement taking your breath away. He carried you effortlessly, his gaze locked on yours, and gently placed you on the edge of his large mahogany desk, papers scattering slightly beneath you..

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he stepped closer, the hard ridge of his bulge pressing against your already aching core through your clothes. A low groan escaped his lips as he began to grind his hips against yours.

He started to kiss your neck, his lips hot and insistent against your skin. His hands, now free, roamed down your thighs, bunching up your skirt even further. Then, with a slow, deliberate slide, his fingers slipped beneath the elastic of your panties. You gasped as he found your slick heat, his touch sending a jolt of pure sensation through you.

He began to slowly rub your swollen clit, his knowing fingers eliciting a moan that escaped your lips. "So wet for me, darling," he murmured against your neck, his breath warm, "Just thinking about me, weren't you?"

Your own hands were busy too. You clumsily touched the buttons of his clean white shirt, your fingers shaking a little. As the shirt opened, you put your hands flat on his wide chest, feeling his heart beat fast under your palms. The warmth coming from his skin was very strong. Wanting to feel more, you reached down, your fingers closing around the hard, pulsing bulge pressing against his pants. He was very hard, showing the strong want that you felt too.

His fingers continued their exquisite torment between your legs, each slow, deliberate stroke sending waves of intense pleasure through you. "Tell me what you want, [Y/N]," he rasped against your ear, his breath hot.

Driven wild by his touch, you reached down, your fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt. With a shaky breath, you unzipped his trousers and gently pulled out his huge cock. It sprang free, thick and heavy in your hand. You began to stroke him slowly, your fingers gliding along its length, feeling the powerful pulse beneath your touch.

"I want to feel every inch of you inside me, Harry," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "Right now."

As you began to rhythmically jerk him off, his kisses grew more frantic, more demanding. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue plunging deep inside.

"Fuck, I want to feel that sweet mouth." he groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer against the edge of the desk. "Suck me, baby. I want to feel your mouth on me like you've been imagining"

He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through his chest as you knelt before him. His hands found your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as you took him into your mouth. You savored the thick, hard length, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head, your lips creating a tight seal. He tasted of pure, raw desire, and you plunged deeper, wanting to take every inch.

"Fuck, yes," he rasped, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "That's it, baby." His hips bucked slightly against your mouth, urging you deeper. You could feel the powerful pulse of his arousal against your tongue, driving you wild. You used your hands to grip his thighs, pulling him closer, your suction growing more insistent. "Swallow me whole, darling. Show me how much you want me"

He suddenly groaned, his hands tightening in your hair, pulling you back just enough so he could look into your eyes. His gaze was dark, primal. "Wait, not like this," he rasped, his voice thick with urgency. He stood abruptly, pulling you up with him, his eyes never leaving yours.

With a sudden, decisive movement, he reached down and ripped your panties, the thin fabric tearing with a sharp sound that echoed in the charged silence.

He didn't break eye contact as he turned you around, his hands gripping your hips, positioning you against the edge of the desk. The cool, smooth surface pressed against your stomach as he bent you over, your skirt riding high. "Now, like this," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. " I want to show how much I want to take you, right here, right now."

He leaned down, his hot breath ghosting over your exposed flesh, and then his tongue was there, a searingly intimate exploration of your wetness. He lapped and tasted, his ministrations sending jolts of pure, raw sensation through your core. You were slick and open, a desperate invitation he was now accepting. "So fucking wet for me," he growled against your skin. " And so ready for my cock"

Then, with a guttural groan that rumbled deep in his chest, he positioned himself behind you. You felt the thick, hard head of his cock pressing against your slick entrance.

Guiding himself with his hand, he plunged forward, burying himself deep inside you in one savage thrust.

A raw cry tore from your throat as he stretched you wide, filling you completely, every inch of him claiming you. "Mine," he bit out against your neck. "You're mine now, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't think straight." The force of his entry made you gasp, the intense pleasure bordering on pain, a stark and thrilling initiation.

He started to fuck you faster, each thrust deep and relentless, slamming into your core. You gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles white, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

He leaned down, his hand gripping the back of your neck, tilting your head down towards the polished wood. His fingers then trailed to your lips, his thumb brushing across your swollen flesh. "Tell me how good this feels, [Y/N]" he growled.

A wild, reckless abandon surged through you. "So fucking good," you moaned, your voice husky and breathless. Then, a wicked little smile played on your lips. "Am I better than her?"

His grip on your neck tightened momentarily, a primal possessiveness flashing in his eyes. "Fuck yes," he bit out, his thrusts deepening with renewed intensity. "A million times better. You're fire, darling. Pure fucking fire."

He pulled back abruptly, his slick cock sliding out of you with a wet, sucking sound that echoed in the sudden stillness. "Turn around," he commanded, his voice rough with spent desire and a fresh wave of hunger.

You turned, your legs still shaky, your gaze locked on his hard, glistening cock. Without hesitation, he parted your thighs wider, his eyes burning into yours as he slammed back inside you, filling you completely once more. The force of his re-entry made you gasp.

Then, he shifted, lifting your legs and settling them onto his broad shoulders. His thrusts became even deeper, faster, hitting that sweet spot with relentless precision. "Open your shirt, baby," he growled, his breath hot against your neck. "Let me see them." You fumbled with the buttons, your breasts spilling free, heavy and flushed. He reached down with his right hand, his fingers finding your swollen, throbbing clit, rubbing with a knowing pressure. His left hand squeezed your nipple, tugging gently, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your body.

The dual assault was overwhelming, and a strangled cry escaped your lips as you arched against his hand, the pleasure building. Your walls clenched around his thick cock as you came, a wave of pure, raw ecstasy washing over you.

Your body was still trembling from the force of your orgasm, but the insistent pressure of his cock deep inside you was already igniting a fresh wave of desire.

You looked down at him, your eyes glazed with lust, and gasped out, "Fuck me harder, boss."

His hand, still slick with your wetness, moved from your clit to your neck, his fingers pressing in your skin. He leaned down, his lips brushing against yours, his eyes dark and possessive. "You feel so fucking good, [Y/N]," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "So tight. I could stay buried inside you forever."

Then, with a guttural growl he began to thrust again, each stroke deeper, faster, more demanding than before. The rhythm built, a frantic dance of pure lust, until finally, with a shared, shuddering cry that ripped from your throats, you both reached your orgasam. He went still inside you for a long moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath ragged. Then, with a satisfied groan, he leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, still fully embedded within your slick heat.

When he finally broke the kiss, his eyes were dark and possessive. "God, Y/N" he breathed, his voice thick with awe and regret. "I wish I had done this before. You're fucking amazing."

The crazy, amazing high of just being completely lost in each other starts to fade into this… softer, quieter thing. Harry's all gentle touches and little kisses on your forehead, holding you tight like he doesn't want to let go. It's nice. Really nice.

Then BAM. Knock, knock, on the door. And then you hear her voice. "Harry? You in there? It's Lucy."

Your stomach just drops. Lucy. Right now? Seriously? This is getting messy, fast.

"Shit," Harry mumbles. He looks at you, and it's this mix of "oh crap" and something else… maybe a little bit of "what now?"

You're already pulling your skirt down, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. "Okay, I should go now," you whisper, feeling your cheeks heat up all over again. No way are you sticking around for that conversation.

But Harry reaches out, his hand catching yours. "Stay," he says, his voice low but firm. He quickly straightens his shirt, a new resolve hardening his features. Then, he walks to the door and opens it.

Lucy steps inside, her eyes widening in surprise as she takes in the disheveled state of the office… and then lands on you. A flicker of confusion, then something sharper, crosses her face.

"I wanted to talk to you alone, Harry," she says, her tone cool.

But Harry's grip on your hand tightens. "You can talk to me in front of her, Lucy," he states, his gaze unwavering. He doesn't let go of your hand, his touch a silent declaration.

Lucy looks from his hand to your face, clearly taken aback. You feel a flush creep up your neck. Not wanting to be the cause of further conflict, you gently pull your hand away from Harry's. "I... I should go," you murmur, offering Lucy a brief, apologetic nod before slipping out of the office, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air behind you. You don't want to hear their conversation. You just need to get away and process everything that just happened.

You didn't look back. You just walked, the rapid thump of your heart echoing in your ears. The office felt suddenly cavernous. You made your way to your desk, grabbed your bag, and practically flew out of the building. The cool night air hit you like a slap, but it did little to clear your head.

You walked for what felt like hours, the city lights blurring into streaks of color as your mind raced. Every touch, every word, every raw, desperate moment with Harry replayed itself. And then, the image of Lucy, her surprised face as she saw you, her demanding voice. What had just happened? What would he say to her? What did it all mean? Your body still hummed with the aftershocks of pleasure, but a cold dread was starting to set in. You had just completely upended your professional life, and possibly, your heart, all for a moment of desperate connection.

Sleep was impossible. You tossed and turned, the scent of Harry's cologne still lingering on your skin, a phantom warmth where his hands had been. The night stretched endlessly, filled with questions that had no answers and worry about what the morning would bring.

The next morning, you arrived at the office early, your nerves frayed, stomach in knots. You moved like a ghost, mechanically starting your computer, every click and whir seeming impossibly loud in the silence. You kept glancing at Harry's closed office door, a knot of dread tightening in your chest.

You'd barely settled when the outer office door creaked open. You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. But it wasn't Harry. It was Sarah, your colleague, her eyes wide as saucers, glued to her phone. She didn't even notice you at first, muttering to herself.

"Oh my god," she whispered, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief. "Did you hear what happened? Harry and Lucy... " She finally looked up, seeing you, and her eyes widened further. "Oh, [Y/N]! You're here early!"

A cold wave washed over you. "What about Harry and Lucy?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, dread coiling in your stomach.

Sarah's gaze darted around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before leaning in conspiratorially. "Apparently," she began, lowering her voice, "Lucy showed up last night, and get this... she slapped him! Right there in his office, yelling about another woman!" Sarah paused for dramatic effect, clearly relishing the gossip. "The night security guard told Brenda in accounting everything. Said it was a total scene."

Your blood ran cold. The other woman. That was you. And he'd been holding your hand when she walked in. What had he told her? Or worse, what hadn't he told her? The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place, a terrifying picture of the chaos you'd inadvertently caused.

"And now," Sarah continued, oblivious to your internal turmoil, "no one's seen Harry. He's not answering his phone." She ended with a dramatic shrug.

You felt dizzy, the floor swaying beneath you. Harry was gone. Because of you. A heavy silence descended, broken only by the frantic beat of your own heart.

You were still reeling from Sarah's gossip, the word "slapped" echoing in your mind, when the main office door swung open with a bang. You flinched, your head snapping up.

It was Harry. He looked like hell. His usually immaculate suit was rumpled, his hair a mess, and his eyes… they were dark with a mixture of fury and something else you couldn't quite decipher. He saw you at your desk, and his jaw clenched.

"My office. Now." His voice was low, clipped, and utterly demanding.

You started to stammer out, "I just need to –" as the phone on your desk began to ring, a shrill interruption. But he cut you off, his voice rising, "Now, [Y/N]!"

Your colleague, Sarah, visibly stiffened at her own desk, her eyes wide as she watched the scene unfold. Your stomach dropped. This was it. You were going to be fired. Your heart ached with a sudden, overwhelming sadness and worry. You slowly pushed yourself up, walking like a condemned woman towards his office, every step heavy.

As you reached his door, he stepped in behind you, and locked the door. You spun around, your hands trembling, the fear and sadness finally overflowing. "Harry," you choked out, tears welling in your eyes, "I'm so sorry. I… I heard what happened last night. I didn't mean to—"

But he didn't let you finish. He closed the distance between you in two strides, his hand reaching out to cup your face. His thumb brushed away a tear, and then his mouth was on yours, roughly, desperately, silencing your apologies with a consuming kiss. It was deep, hungry, cutting off your breath and your words.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still dark, but the fury had softened, replaced by an intense longing. He wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, darling," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "All night. Not for a single second."

"But… Lucy?" you whispered.

He looked into your eyes, "She wants me back," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. Then, his gaze held yours, unwavering, "But I'm already yours, my lady. Right?"

A tear, this time of overwhelming relief and joy, slipped down your cheek. You smiled through it, your heart soaring, and leaned in to kiss him fiercely. "Yes," you whispered against his lips, the word filled with all the love you had tried to hide. "Oh, Harry, I love you."

He let out a low groan, a sound of pure satisfaction, and in one swift motion, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the large leather couch in his office. He laid you down gently, but his movements were urgent, impatient. He quickly fumbled with your clothes, tearing at the fabric of your dress, a hungry look in his eyes.

"God, I need you naked," he breathed, his voice raw, as the dress gave way. "I need to feel all of you against me, right now."

You grabbed at Harry's clothes, your hands shaking with excitement, but a sudden thought made you shiver. "Slow down," you whispered, pushing gently against his chest. "Someone might hear or see us. We can't do this here."

He just looked at you, his eyes burning with a strong, uncaring passion. He reached down and held your chin. "Let them," he growled, his voice rough. "Let them know you're mine."

Then, he leaned in, his lips hot and firm on your neck, trailing kisses downwards. Easily, he unhooked your bra, letting it drop. His mouth found one breast, sucking and nipping softly, sending shivers through you as his other hand massaged the other. He kissed a path down your stomach, his warm lips creating a hot trail to your inner thighs. The same thrilling heat from last night sparked inside you, spreading fast.

He got on his knees, his hands reaching for your underwear, slowly pulling them down your legs. As he did, he lifted your legs, putting them on his wide shoulders. Then, he leaned forward, his head dropping, and you gasped as his hot tongue found your throbbing clit, beginning to pleasure you with slow, careful strokes.

He sucked harder, his tongue expertly teasing you, making you wild. You moaned, your hips naturally moving against his face. Then, two fingers, long and strong, gently pushed inside you, stretching your already pulsing core. "So tight and wet for me, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice muffled by your clit. "Just as I knew you'd be. You're going to come for me right here."

You held onto his strong shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin, as the pleasure grew, spinning out of control. A cry caught in your throat as your body arched, pushing down against his mouth, and you climaxed, hot and messy, onto his fingers, onto his tongue. He kept pleasing you, licking up every last bit of your release.

When you finally fell back against him, breathless and satisfied, he leaned back a bit, his eyes still dark with desire. He reached up, his fingers touching your wet lips, before leaning in and kissing you roughly, tasting yourself on his lips. "You taste like heaven, [Y/N]," he mumbled, his voice thick with desire. "So delicious. Makes me want to devour you all night."

He then stood up, his body clearly still needing more. He unbuckled his belt, and quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, showing his fully hard cock. He sat back down on the leather couch, his eyes shining with a challenge. "You said you wanted to ride your boss on this couch, sweetie," he growled, patting his lap. "So let's make that wish come true."

A playful smile touched your lips. You moved to sit on him, settling onto his lap. You took his hard cock in your hand, giving him a few slow, teasing rubs, the head of his shaft throbbing against your palm. You leaned down and kissed him, your tongue dancing with his, before slowly, so slowly, you rubbed the head of his cock against your wet folds, teasing him, putting off the moment.

He let out a desperate groan, his hips pushing up beneath you. "Damn, [Y/N]," he begged, his voice hoarse. "Just put me in. Please. I can't wait anymore."

You smiled, feeling powerful, and then, with a happy sigh, you slowly lowered yourself, guiding him deep inside you. A low moan escaped your lips as his thick cock filled you completely. You started bouncing on him, a slow, steady rhythm that soon got faster. His grip on your ass tightened, his fingers digging in as you rode him. He leaned back, pulling your head down, biting your neck, his teeth gently scraping your skin, and you loved it, the sharp pleasure mirroring the raw force of his pushes. The wet, smacking sound of skin on skin filled the office, a rhythmic sign of the raw, wild passion.

"You're so incredibly tight," he groaned, his hips rising to meet your drops. "Every part of you is hugging my cock. God, this feels so good. Ride me harder, baby. Show me how much you love this."

He began to push up into you, meeting your every bounce with strong upward drives. Your body arched, chest heaving, as you rode him with desperate hunger, the feeling building to an amazing peak. Each groan, each gasp, each wet slap of flesh on flesh showed the intense need you both felt.

You rode him with fierce intensity, the pleasure building with every thrust. "Was she good like this?" you whispered, the provocative question escaping your lips before you could stop it. "Was Lucy like this, Harry? Did she make you groan like this?"

His rhythm hitched, and a dark look crossed his face. "No," he growled, his voice tight with displeasure. "Don't ever mention her. Please. Not when I have this. When now I have you"

Then, with a sudden surge of power, he lifted you from his lap, he pushed you gently onto the leather couch, so you were on your knees, holding onto the backrest.

He positioned himself behind you, and with a guttural groan, slammed back inside you from the back. This time, he was harder, more primal, more passionate. He leaned closer, his arm wrapping around your neck, his hand cupping your jaw as he kissed your lips fiercely. Your breasts were pressed flat against the cool leather, nipples aching.

"I'm going to come again," you gasped, your body already arching back into him. "Oh God, Harry."

"Good girl," he bit out, his voice a low, rough command. "Let me feel every fucking bit of it. Give me all of it, right here, right now. Show me how much you need me." He thrust harder, faster, his weight bearing down on you, pinning you against the couch. His fingers found your clit, rubbing it mercilessly, pushing you over the edge.

A scream tore from your throat as you came, your walls convulsing around his cock. You felt a gush of warmth as you squirted, milking him, saturating him with your wetness. He groaned, a deep, satisfied sound, feeling your release engulf him. "That's it, darling," he rasped, his voice thick with his own impending climax.

"Feel how much you make me want you. You're absolutely perfect. God, you just broke me open."

He then pulled back slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and with a final, deep thrust, he came inside you, filling you completely with his hot, thick release. "I love when you fill me up, Sir," you whispered, your voice hoarse, utterly spent. "I love being filled by you."

He shifted, turning you gently, and pulled you into a tight embrace. He kissed you softly, tenderly, a stark contrast to the raw passion of moments before. You lay together on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms, his touch gentle and sweet.

"I love you, [Y/N]," he murmured, his voice soft, almost vulnerable against your hair. "I think… I think I've loved you for a long time. I just never let myself see it. You're everything I never knew I needed."

You burrowed deeper into his embrace, your heart overflowing. "I love you too, Harry," you whispered back, tears pricking your eyes. "More than words. And I've wanted you, longed for you, for so long."

You lay wrapped in Harry's arms on the leather couch, the lingering warmth of your shared passion a comforting weight. The world outside the office seemed a million miles away, but then a thought pricked at the edges of your blissful haze.

"Harry," you murmured, your voice still husky. "What happened last night with Lucy? I heard… I heard she slapped you."

He sighed, the sound vibrating against your cheek as he held you tighter. "She did," he confirmed, his voice a low rumble. "I told her I didn't want her anymore. That I was… with someone else now. She didn't take it well." He leaned down and kissed your hair, then your temple.

Just as his lips touched your skin, his phone, forgotten somewhere on the desk, began to vibrate insistently. Sarah's name flashed on the screen, a relentless series of missed calls turning into a new incoming one. Harry glanced at it, a frown touching his lips.

"It's Sarah," he said, pulling back slightly. "She says Lucy's outside. Again."

Your stomach clenched. Again? A wave of dread washed over you, mixing with the heady aftermath of your lovemaking. This was too much. You scrambled to sit up. "I have to go," you whispered, pushing against his chest. "I can't be seen here."

Harry, however, seemed to have other ideas. He quickly stood up, his movements decisive, and helped you gather your scattered clothes. As you hastily pulled on your dress, he smoothed his own shirt, running a hand through his hair to tame it.

"Don't go yet," he said, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint that, despite the chaos, made your heart flutter. "I want to ask you something."

He walked to the door, his hand on the handle, as Lucy's insistent knocking began again, louder this time, accompanied by a frustrated shout of his name. He ignored it, turning back to you, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"Will you go on a proper date with me tonight, [Y/N]?" he asked, "Dinner. Just us."

The knocking outside ceased abruptly. A chilling silence fell, then a sharp, audible gasp. You saw Lucy's shadow shift beneath the crack of the door. She had heard him. Every word.

Harry, oblivious or simply uncaring, took a step towards you, his hand reaching out. "Well?" he prompted, his eyes full of hope.

You glanced at the door, then back at Harry's hopeful face. The situation was exploding, but a defiant thrill shot through you. You could almost feel Lucy's fury radiating through the wood.

"Yes, Harry," you said, your voice firm, a triumphant smile finally breaking through. "I'd love to go on a date with you tonight."

The heavy silence from the hallway lingered, pregnant with unspoken rage. You knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that Lucy had just heard your answer. And you also knew this was only the beginning of the drama.

Harry opened the door. The moment he did, Lucy almost ran past him, her eyes still angry, but now with a hint of something else—despair. She didn't even see you at first, focused only on Harry.

"Harry, I am so, so sorry," she started, her voice sounding truly regretful, though some of her usual sharp edge was still there. She reached out and gently touched his arm. "Last night was… a mistake. I was upset. I just… I want to talk. Can we please get a drink? Just us. Like we planned." Her eyes begged him, a big change from the angry woman who had just been banging on the door.

Harry looked from her hand on his arm to your shocked face, then back to Lucy. His jaw was firm, and his face showed no doubt. "Lucy," he said, his voice steady, "there's nothing to talk about. And no, we're not getting a drink."

Lucy's face sagged a little, but then her eyes narrowed, looking at you with sudden meanness. "But… who is this?" she asked. "Harry, what is she doing here? What was that about a date?" She waved her hands between you and Harry, losing her calm. "You said you didn't want me anymore because of her?" Her voice got louder, almost a shout, the despair turning into fresh anger. "Your assistant? Really, Harry? This is a joke!"

You felt your face get hot, but Harry didn't move. He stepped closer to you, subtly placing himself between you and Lucy, his hand finding your arm again. "Lucy," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, "you need to leave. Now."

Lucy's eyes narrowed, a cold fury replacing the desperation. "You're going to regret this, Harry," she hissed, her voice low and venomous.

Harry just smiled, a confident, almost triumphant curve of his lips. "It looks like I'm not the one who regrets things, Lucy."

Her face turned red with anger. She spun around fast and marched out of the office.

Harry turned to you, the tension in his body relaxing as he took your hand. You could feel your coworkers trying to sneak looks and listen from their desks. Harry didn't care what they thought. He leaned in and gently kissed your lips, a soft kiss that made your still-shaking body feel warm.

"I'll pick you up at six," he whispered, his eyes shining with a soft promise. "And I have a surprise for you."

A real smile finally spread across your face. You felt happy, but still a little shaky from everything that had happened. "Thank you," you said, your voice a bit wobbly. "I'm so happy. I'll see you then."

You squeezed his hand, then turned and walked out of the office. The weight of the day, and the amazing things that had just happened, felt heavy on you. You knew for sure that your life had just changed forever.

Chapter 2

Thank you for the reading 💜