#& then it’s followed up with ‘so that’s why it shouldn’t be allowed. everything should be censored to a pg-13 rating that caters to me :-)’

[yokelfelonking]

Post 9/11 Trivia

Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:

There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)

On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.

People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.

As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.

Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"

People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.

"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)

People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.

On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.

Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)

EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.

Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)

And if all of this seems batshit...well, it was. But I want you to think for a moment how people react today over even trivial shit. People send death threats over children's cartoons. They call for blood if the maker of a video game had an opinion they don't like. If someone made a racist joke a decade ago when they were a teenage edgelord, folks will go after people who even associate with them. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE HARM THEY'RE DOING!?"

Now take that same level of over-the-top histrionics and apply it to the unprecedented event of passenger planes crashing into crowded buildings in America's most populous city and killing thousands of people all at once. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WE WERE ATTACKED!?"

[rosesradio]

.

[jk97]

Unprofessional Attraction | TWO

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

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I meant everything I said, yes.”

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

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

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

It begins easily enough. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love that, actually.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me, are you calling me old?”

“Possibly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your face is red. Was it too salty?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you comfortable if I kiss you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, maybe I should.”

That night, Yunho learns several things about you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

“YOU WHAT?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry! It was just—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope so, Yeo. I really do.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you for understanding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please and thank you.”

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

Sorry, I’m not single.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Y/N: 1 image]

[Y/N: Matchingg with my besssttieee]

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

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

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

[Y/N: 1 invisible ink image]

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

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

[Yunho: 1 invisible ink image]

[Yunho: only if you let me reciprocate after]

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It started off innocent, it really did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really want to know that badly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me a second.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got a minute?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Yunho: pls]

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

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

“Mr. Jeong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But… Right now? Here?”

“If you’re comfortable,” he adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you deserve to cum too—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is where his selfishness comes in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brows furrow, “Jealous?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But–”

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

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

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

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

“I also have an idea.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shit, ___–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is there an issue with something I submitted?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean like sucking off your teacher again?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spit it out already then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, would you like to exchange numbers?”

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

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

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

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Working Ethics

He watched you shuffle out the door as you ignored the 3rd guy who tried to pick you up. He almost went back to people watching when he noticed you leaving and some guy he hadn’t seen before start to follow you, you were drunk but capable. 

You are capable. 

But it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you got home safe. 

That’s what friends do. 

He abruptly stood up the drinks on the table sloshing slightly. 

“Where are you off to, pretty boy?” Derek appeared with another drink in his hand. He could finish the bars entire stock if Hotch allowed him to. 

“I’m done, see you guys tomorrow.” Spencer quickly shuffled out before Derek could sink his claws into him. He almost lost sight of you. 

“Come on sweet girl,” He did a complete turn to the alley down the side. “I promise tah treatcha right.”

“Not interested,” he slipped into a corner, he didn’t want to be all hero unless you needed him to. You were an incredible officer. You could whip up your badge and have him down in prison for half his life if you wanted to, maybe you wanted to let him off easy because he was drunk. 

"Hey now, don't be like that I can show you a good time.

“Let go of me you creep.” You sounded alarmed. “Hey, Hey drop the knife-” He didn’t even stop. He came over, pummelling the guy into the alley wall, a switchblade cluttering onto the floor. He dropped the guy and rushed over to where you were. The guy scuttled out the alley, cursing.

“Spencer…” he turns and he meets your worried gaze. Your eyes roving over him. “He didn’t cut you did he?” 

He looks incredulously at you. “Shouldn’t the roles be reversed?”

You were the one about to- so why were you- he-

The confusion must have shown on his face, you smiled. “Yeah but you could have also gotten hurt.” 

“Same as you. Put yourself first.” you looked away. You both know you’re not very good at that. He fully turns to you and you notice how his entire demeanour changes. He seems smaller now. He comes closer and checks you for any cuts. The warmth of the situation goes straight to your brain.

“Thank you,” 

“It’s…” what could he say. Common decency? He paused, “As long as you’re fine.” scratching the back of his head. You moved closer to him before you raised your hand. He froze. He literally stopped breathing. You chuckled slightly. You weren’t the only one going crazy.

“Breathe Spencer, I don’t want my saviour asphyxiating."

“Sorry.” He muttered breathlessly. You wordlessly reach forward and moved your fingers through his hair, careful as though not to startle him. A few knots here and there, you tried to ignore how he leaned unto your touch, how his breath came out ragged, how close you were and how his hands were levitating over your waist barely grazing.

"Thank you for saving me."

You couldn't help overthink everything that brought you here. His gaze was intense, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he was trying to read your mind and he just might he’s a damn good profiler after all. You felt yourself getting lost in his eyes, unable to look away, . 

“I’m drunk.” you said leaning into him.

“You’re drunk.” his hands settle on your hips, gripping tightly.  His brain wanted him to push you away but he found himself pulling you in.

“I should leave you alone.” you said wrapping your arms around his neck, despite your words you lean in.

“You should.”

“Should I?” You don’t know what you’re asking him, but he seems to know.

“Don’t but…” you could see his inner turmoil as he grappled with himself.

“But?”

“Working ethics, I don’t know if I can leave you after.” Your lips were so close, his breath ghosted your lips. 

“Maybe I don’t want you to leave?” You moved closer against him, chest against chest, he hissed at the contact.

“Angel, don’t say that, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you tilted your head. “This?” your lips grazed his. “Or this?” pushing yourself against him even more. 

He looked at you with a look so despicable. He kissed you, matching with how he wanted you. Hard and rough. His lips slotted with yours, stealing all your air, his fingers gripped you so tightly it made you dizzy, all you could smell, hear, see, feel was Spencer.

You could feel his heartbeat, his breath, he only had one drink,

“You’re drunk.” he repeated, extricating his hands from you, taking a step back. "I'd be taking advantage of you. I should be leaving you alone.” He kept kissing you though, kissing you silly. “Tell me no, tell me to stop.”

“I’m not leaving you tonight and you’re not leaving me.” dragging him out of the alley.

______________________________________________________________

“Reid, where did you run off to yesterday?” JJ asked from around the corner. Spencer's cheeks tinted slightly as he ran off an excuse.

“Tired, it was a long night.” He nodded as he went back to his files. 

“Really? That’s exactly what she said-” Spencer’s head shot up a little too quickly. Derek’s eyes sparkled. 

“Tsk, you almost got away with it kid.” Derek patted his back. “So your place or hers?”

“What- who’s I don’t know what you both are talking about.” Spencer went on the defensive, he tried to control his movements but unfortunately he was in a room full of profilers.

“Sorry Spence but we got evidence, Derek saw you two on his morning walk.” 

Spencer’s mind floated back to earlier when he was leaving you. 

“I really wish I could drive you instead of dropping you somewhere else.” Spencer whined as he hugged you. 

“It’s okay, I even need to change. I can't exactly go in the same clothes as yesterday, or in your clothes.” 

“I mean, you do look good in my clothes…” his words elicited a blush from you as you remembered last night's events. You couldn’t wear your clothes due to some tears in your clothes which you blame him for. 

“Spencer!!!” he laughs and it’s so soft and hearty you can’t help but laugh with him. 

“C’mere.” he mutters and brings your head closer to his, kissing you so softly you melt in him arms. He pulls away slight;y and smiles at you. “I’m ready to take this however you like, fast or slow, it’s all in your hands.”

“Spencer…” it’s your turn to gush. “How about boyfriend and girlfriend then we move up from there?” 

“I’d like that.” You smile.

“Me too.”

“I like you.”

“I like you too.”

“Seems pretty boy is reminiscing. So you and her huh? And you didn’t tell us.” Spencer ignores him as he turns to his desk. A door opens somewhere and he instinctively raises his head to catch you entering, removing your hair from your ponytail, you just came back from the shooting range. 

He was mesmerised.

______________________________________________________________

no. 4 of Spencer Reid's firsts

[neobora]

a definitive guide to actually fulfilling your desires

"i affirm and persist all day long but nothing is working!!"

"i ignored the 3d for a week straight and did xyz whenever i could but nothing happened"

stop forcing yourself to work for your manifestations. you can do tons of methods and challenges and still see zero change in the 3d. why? because states manifest. it‘s that easy.

now, when you affirm and visualize on loop to get your desires without success in what state do you find yourself?

in a state of lack. you are affirming to GET. you should never feel like you have to WORK for your manifestations.

"Ideas are impressed on the subconscious through the medium of feeling. No idea can be impressed on the subconscious until it is felt, but once felt - be it good, bad or indifferent - it must be expressed. Feeling is the one and only medium through which ideas are conveyed to the subconscious." - Neville Goddard (Feeling is the Secret)

THE ONLY THING YOU HAVE TO DO IN ORDER TO GET YOUR DESIRES IS TO FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE THEM. FULFILL THEM MENTALLY. read that again. you have to FEEL like you already have them. nothing else. everything else will follow.

"The subconscious never fails to express that which has been impressed upon it. The moment it receives an impression, it begins to work out the ways of its expression. It accepts the feeling impressed upon it, your feeling, as a fact existing within itself and immediately sets about to produce in the outer or objective world the exact likeness of that feeling. The subconscious never alters the accepted beliefs of man." - Neville Goddard (Feeling is the Secret)

isn't that amazing? you can genuinely have or be ANYTHING, yes, anything, just by feeling. and it will ALWAYS be expressed into the outer world as long as you fulfill it in the inner world ( -> your imagination).

now how do we go on about this?

first of all you need to actually realize that YOU ARE THE ONLY CREATOR. the only cause. everything you see in the 3d is dependent on your beliefs and ideas. you do not have to be anything you don’t want to be. you are consciousness moving through states. read that again. engrain it into your beliefs.

i recommend doing this meditation by edwartart. it really helped me realize that i don‘t actually need to see anything in the outer world, but can instead just experience it in my imagination. and as we learned earlier, "once it is felt, it must be expressed."

this is also why you really shouldn’t care about your 3d. you dont have to ignore it, but you should never identify with the outer world. you are pure consciousness. live in your imagination as much as possible, as imagination is reality. thoughts manifest -> the dominant feeling manifests.

and instead of consuming even more posts about manifesting, go try it out. you dont even have to meditate, just close your eyes and remove the outer world from existence. then be the person you want to be. experience living as that person. you‘ll soon realize that it‘s incredibly easy to manifest and you‘ll also automatically stop caring about the 3d when you reach the state of fulfillment.

and don’t say you "cant get into a state". once you get rid of that mental blockage and ALLOW yourself to feel and experience it‘s genuinely SO EASY. don’t force it! if it doesn’t feel good you’re probably imagining something you don’t really want. try imagining your heart‘s desires. imagining is so fun. do it whenever you can, when you’re waiting for the bus, taking a break etc.

read this post again if you need to. actually understand it.

now go live in your imagination. fulfill all your desires mentally and you‘ll soon realize the 3d automatically catches up without you having to lift a finger. the life of your dreams is literally just waiting for you to experience it!

~neo

[cobaltperun]

Lost (20) - Miracle

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 4.8k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Take a look around, it's you and me, it's here and now-

~X~ March 23rd, 2027 ~X~

It was cold, this entire place was as cold as ice for her, and it had nothing to do with the weather, or her clothing. She could put on the warmest clothes she owned, instead of her jeans and baby blue sweater, and she’d still be cold in this bare room with dull gray walls and a light that was too strong for her liking.

Truly, she should have been used to this by now, she should have known her life was going too well, that she was so happy, and that the universe wouldn’t allow that. Even after all she went through, all the horrible things that happened to her, it wasn’t enough, she had to experience true loneliness for the very first time in her life, to feel completely alone.

“I’m sorry miss L/N, we’ve been instructed not to allow any visitors,” the officer told her, and Tara had to take several deep breaths to calm down and not make a scene, though at this point she had no idea how she was controlling herself. Maybe because making a scene wouldn’t fix anything. It wouldn’t do her any good, it wouldn’t chase away the persistent cold. You had the right to visitors, much worse people had them, but apparently no one was allowed to see you. Not her, not your lawyer, despite threats that they would be sued for this no one budged an inch. There was no way to contact you.

Her hand touched her stomach, knowing there were plenty of reasons why she shouldn’t stress too much. “I’m her wife,” she repeated, hoping there was some humanity left in this man and that he would let her through to you. She needed to see you, even if it was in this cold, dark place, even if you were locked up. Even just seeing you would be enough to, at least for a bit, make her feel warm again. “I’m carrying her child, please, just for five minutes.”

He looked down, and while Tara could still hide it, a closer look would reveal that she was, indeed, two and a half months pregnant. “Well, it’s not exactly her child, is it? Get out miss L/N, this is your last warning,” he sneered and came up to her, ignoring her glare and ready to shove her if necessary.

“We get it, we’re leaving,” Danny stepped between Tara and the officer, just to be sure nothing would happen to her. “Come on, Tara, he won’t let you see Y/N,” he pleaded, gently taking her forearm and pulling her outside.

Tara let him, she followed him, through the nearly empty halls of the prison, defeated and not paying attention to the few officers that did look at her. You’ve been locked up for three weeks and no one was allowed to see you or hear from you. And Tara? Tara only had Danny left… You were locked up, Sam was gone, her friends weren’t there, they were dealing with their own lives, and while she missed them, Tara refused to ask them to come and stay with her. She didn’t want to involve them into this, she’d find a way to reach you eventually.

The fresh air outside the prison felt stale when you were locked up in the cold building she just exited. She got in the backseat of the taxi and Danny gave the driver his address as Tara got lost in her thoughts. Things were so much simpler and happier just a month ago, in fact, everything was going well ever since you recovered, over four years ago.

~X~ December 2022 ~X~

You were being mean, laughing at her and handing her the inhaler at the same time. Jerk… “You needed me so much you couldn’t breathe?” you dropped down unceremoniously next to her and pulled her closer the moment she returned the inhaler to the nightstand next to your bed.

Just to be slightly petty she playfully stuck her tongue out and turned her back to you, as much as her body tingled from what the two of you just did. And you just chuckled, spooning her and wrapping a strong arm around her waist. Despite your teasing she relaxed against you, enjoying the warmth and the feel of your bare skin against her back. “It’s not my fault you went crazy after I called you ‘baby’,” she sighed dramatically. She wasn’t sure she could move from the bed any time soon, not that she was complaining, besides, it was clear you got your stamina back and she was definitely no longer feeling pent-up.

You leaned closer to her, slowly kissing her just beneath her ear and Tara hummed in approval. She twisted around in your arms, baring her neck so you could keep kissing her. “I remember hearing something else as well,” you eventually reminded her, your tone low and slightly raspy and all the things Tara was weak to as she sighed when you left another mark on her neck.

She was confused for a moment, and then she turned completely red when she remembered exactly what you were talking about. “You’ll never hear that again,” she ducked down, hiding her face beneath your chin and just wrapping her arms around you.

“Whatever you say, Tara,” she could feel you smirking, she could sense it! Damn you for knowing exactly how to get her worked up, and for making her call you… no… she wouldn’t even think about that. She’d forget it! She’d make you sleep on the couch if you ever mentioned it. Or maybe not that. She needed you next to her to sleep well, so maybe she wouldn’t make you sleep on the couch. Forbid you from kissing her? No, she liked that too much to use it as punishment. She could sit somewhere other than on your lap?

Hell no!

She could take your car. Actually, that would get you to ban her from sitting on your lap.

She’d just make you play horror games without her. That’ll teach you.

She one hundred percent did not have that kink. Nope, it was a slip of a tongue, nothing more, and it would never happen again!

But then another thought popped into her head. And while there was a chance it was said in the heat of the moment, that it was just your desire and passion talking, you did kinda tell her you wanted to marry her. And while it easily could put you in a bad spot, she wanted to hear your thoughts now that you weren’t consumed by your desires. She didn’t doubt you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her, it was the actual marriage that she was wondering about, since you, somehow, never talked about your feelings on that.

Tara personally wanted to get married, she imagined how it would look when she was younger. Nowadays her imagination didn’t include big events, just something private, but she did want that with you.

“Say, Y/N, were you serious about wanting to marry me?” she asked, absentmindedly tracing random lines on your biceps. You still haven’t recovered all your muscles, but she could feel them under her touch, firm and strong, and she was sure you’d be back in shape before the end of the year. Not that you weren’t already in shape, just, you’d be back in the shape you were in before Bailey, his children, and Thomas attacked all of you.

“Completely,” you didn’t even hesitate, you just hugged her a bit tighter. “I’ll do the whole proposal thing sooner or later, but if you want to marry me, then yes, I am absolutely serious about that.”

Tara nodded, smiling brightly. “I do want to marry you,” she kissed you, from your neck, your jaw, all the way to your lips. “I want to spend my entire life with you,” the two of you haven’t even been together for a year, though it was close to a year now, your anniversary was less than a week away, but she had no doubt in her mind that what she said was exactly what she wanted. Her lips met yours and she nudged you slightly so you would get on your back, and she moved with you to straddle your abs. “I want to take your last name, to have-“ she suddenly stopped, just now realizing that was another topic the two of you never talked about.

“Tara?” you raised an eyebrow, confused by her silence.

“Do you want children?” she blurted out, because she did, she wanted at least one child, or two, maybe two would be better. Probably not more than two. She wanted to give someone a childhood she wished to have, as far as parents went. But even more than that, she wanted a family with you. Regardless of if it was just the two of you, or if there would be kids.

You kinda just… shrugged and now it was Tara’s turn to be confused. “Eventually, sure. I haven’t really thought about it, but I’m not against it,” you tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and Tara sighed in relief. “If you want kids, we’ll raise them together, if you don’t, it’ll be just the two of us,” you pulled her down for a kiss and Tara felt like melting. “It’s not a deal breaker for me, nothing is as long as I’m with you.”

She definitely didn’t want kids right away, she wanted to finish college, get a job, get married and then, eventually, when both of you felt you were ready, either adopt or get pregnant. That, however, was topic for another day. In the back of her head, she worried about Ghostface coming back, but she could only believe in you, in your ability to come back to her, and her own ability to make sure she came back to you as well.

“You know, it’s good that you called me-“ she shut you up with a kiss. She knew exactly where you were going with that, and she would not let you finish that sentence.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned you. You just grinned at her, and even though you stayed silent she knew the word was on the tip of your tongue. She’d have to make you say something embarrassing as well eventually. With that thought in mind Tara kissed you one more time.

~X~ December 13th, 2023. ~X~

This was it. This was how you were going to have your second heart attack and drop dead. All things considered your panic-filled mind wondered if this could be considered suicide, because, all of this was, after all, your own doing. It would be fine, right? Tara did want this, she said so! Granted, the one and only time the two of you talked about this was over a year ago, but surely nothing has changed since then, right?

You still felt like you’d rather run a gauntlet, fight the strongest women MMA fighters one after another right now than actually go through with this.

“I can’t,” you were pacing around the hotel room, not even daring to glance at the tiny box on the table. Oh, if a bird swooped in from the skies and grabbed it you would be the happiest woman alive, because you’d at least have an excuse to postpone this. Maybe you should go and ask for some bird seeds or something similar, just to leave them near the box and hopefully lure said birds inside.

“Y/N!” Anika grabbed your shoulders and pushed, but she couldn’t get you to move. “Sit down you… mass of muscles and ridiculous strength only Tara gets to move!” she grunted and then just threw her arms up, and sat down herself. “Fine! Stand there!” she gave up. “If you don’t do this today, you’ll have to wait until next year, remember?”

You looked to the side, annoyed that she was right. Her hair was braided, and she was wearing a nice, bright and colorful dress Mindy was going to drool over tonight. It was December thirteenth. The second anniversary of your and Tara’s relationship and you were ready to propose. Well, as far as setting everything up was concerned. You booked the restaurant in this hotel, hooray for successful business, got the ring, dressed up, everything was ready. Mentally though… you were absolutely not ready.

The proposal was also why you were on an urgent business trip, why Anika went back to her parents, and why Mindy and Chad had to visit their mom, and why Sam and Danny would be taking Tara to a restaurant so she wouldn’t feel lonely, and you’d be making up for the urgent business trip tomorrow, when Tara turns twenty-one.

Which was all one big lie, aside from Sam and Danny taking Tara to the restaurant, all so Tara wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Or maybe, hear me out, I say screw important dates, and just randomly ask her one day?” you suggested, raising your finger to make a point.

Anika got up and began jabbing her finger above your chest. “You, Y/N L/N, are one of the best women MMA fighters, you lived through being shot, stabbed, impaled on a rebar, falling from a roof and won Sam’s approval to date her sister, which is probably the most impressive accomplishment of them all,” she told you with enough conviction to make your own doubts slowly ebb away. “You are going to go downstairs, dressed in that,” she looked you up and down and just stepped back. “that… let’s just say Tara is lucky, because, well, you dressed to impress,” and you did. You went all out, finding the best clothes for the occasion.

And then the phone rang, and you saw it was Danny calling.

Afraid something happened you immediately picked up and put him on a speaker. “Yes?”

“It’s a disaster,” he opened dramatically, his voice filled with panic. “Tara won’t dress up!”

You felt the tension from all of this, all the pressure from wanting to propose to her, all the worry caused by his call, it all just vanished, and you felt like you could breathe again. “Dude, let her come in whatever she wants,” you laughed, no longer feeling nervous. This was Tara, your Tara and you suddenly felt silly for even being nervous in the first place.

“She wants to come in your damn shirt! Not even a really nice one, but a random shirt she picked out, it’s a miracle she doesn’t look like a fashion emergency!” he whisper-shouted and you watched Anika’s jaw dropping as she heard that.

You laughed a bit too loudly. “So let her! Let my girl do whatever she wants, it’s her night!” you just sat down on the bed and couldn’t wipe the grin off your face.

“It’s a five-star hotel and she wants to wear an oversized shirt that looks more like a dress on her and jeans! She didn’t even do her hair or put make-up on!” he nearly yelled while you had a dreamy look on your face knowing Tara would still look more beautiful than anyone else in this whole hotel.

“Yup, let her, just bring her here,” you sighed dreamily, your mood swinging in the exact opposite direction.

“Unbelievable, both of you,” he groaned and hung up.

You looked at Anika, still flabbergasted by what she heard, and then at your usual clothes. “You know what, Tara has a point,” you’d wear fancy clothes for some special occasion, maybe tomorrow night when you take her out not as your girlfriend, but as your fiancée for the very first time.

“No! Y/N! I won’t let you!” Anika cried out, but it was too late now.

~X~

Dressing up… as if Tara wanted to do that tonight. You weren’t there, and she was basically being a third wheel on Sam and Danny’s date, so no, she wouldn’t dress up. She wanted to stay home, watch a movie, and wear your shirt so she could feel like you were hugging her. But, Sam insisted and she couldn’t say no to Sam’s pleading gaze.

Well, she’d see you tomorrow, so that was nice. Urgent business trips have happened ever since you opened your own company. You used the money you got from your retirement and ensured you could mostly work from home, but you still needed to leave every now and then to meet up with your business partners. Did it suck that you had to leave on your anniversary? Yeah, it did. Was Tara angry? No, just a bit lonely since everyone else seemed to leave as well, but you called her plenty of times today and she couldn’t wait to see you tomorrow.

The hotel Sam and Danny took her to… well, now she felt a bit silly for being dressed so casually, especially since Danny went for a dark brown suit and black turtleneck sweater and Sam went through trouble of doing her hair and wearing a light green long coat with shirt and pants. And Sam didn’t exactly dress up that often, she preferred casual clothes she could defend herself in if needed, and while Tara became cautious after what happened last year, Sam took it to the next level, and that made Tara worried for Sam, she wasn’t letting anyone new in, no matter what, even at work she kept to herself and barely even got out unless Tara or Danny specifically asked her to.

That made Tara feel a bit guilty, because this was actually Sam’s idea, and now that they were here Tara wondered if she really should have dressed up. If for no other reason than to show Sam she appreciated that Sam wanted to go out. She wanted to apologize, but Sam still looked so happy, so Tara figured she could apologize later tonight. She didn’t want to make Sam and Danny’s date uncomfortable before it even officially began.

She walked in behind them, noticing immediately the hotel restaurant was empty, sure, it was expensive and all that, but completely empty? No celebrities at the very least? And since when did Sam and Danny want to spend this much money of a single date? And then add even more costs by inviting Tara with them? And several people greeted them and took them to the round table set up for six people, where Chad, Mindy and Anika were waiting already.

They were all dressed up, and Mindy was rolling her eyes when she noticed how Tara looked. “Seriously Sam? You couldn’t get her to wear something else?” Mindy shook her head in utter disbelief.

“She’s stubborn, and well, the three of you didn’t do a better job anyway,” Sam muttered, further confusing Tara.

Several ideas were crossing her mind, but the table was set up for six people, and all thoughts of you somehow popping up were ruled out by that simple fact. Unless that was what you wanted her to think. Since it wouldn’t be that hard to just move things around a bit and make space for one more person, in fact, there was suspiciously wide open space between Chad’s chair and an empty chair next to him.

But everyone was dressed up. Anika was stunning, Mindy looked just as beautiful in that red, slightly revealing dress and Chad went for a more casual, button up shirt and suit combination, and that worried her, because he loved dressing in a more casual way.

“Still the most beautiful girl in the room though,” her jaw dropped at the sound of your voice, and she looked to the side as you came down the stairs, dressed just as casually as Tara, just simple, slightly tighter polo shirt and pants and a smile on your face as she ran up to you and jumped into your arms.

“What’s this all about? How are you here?” she wasn’t complaining, not in the slightest, she just wanted to know.

You laughed, lifting her up and carrying her bridal style to the table. “Well, I wanted to make this a bit fancier, but,” you looked down at her choice of clothing and grinned. “I think this suits us much better,” you lowered her back to her feet and guided her to the remaining free chair. She sat down, still looking at your eyes. “Tara Carpenter,” you went down to one knee and pulled out a box making Tara’s jaw drop as she saw a beautiful ring that matched the necklace you bought her for her eighteenth birthday. “Will you marry me?”

Tara refused to cry, she wasn’t going to cry, she was absolutely crying as she fell into your arms and hugged you as tightly as she could. “Yes, a hundred times yes!” she exclaimed as your friends cheered around the two of you.

You laughed at that, and got up, lifting Tara up in the process and hugging her tightly. “I love you,” you kissed her lightly, but she wasn’t having any of that as she deepened the kiss right away, her hand cupping your cheek.

“I love you too,” she whispered against your lips when you separated and you put a ring on her finger and she pulled you down for another kiss.

~X~ Present day ~X~

The two of you got married on your third anniversary, exactly a year after you proposed, and last year you decided you’d try IVF and then, when Tara and you told Sam about it… well, that’s when it all started going downhill, as Sam grew more and more irritated and angry and would leave for several days at a time. Tara tried to be patient, she tried to understand her sister, to be there for her, but it was starting to take its toll on her as well, because no matter how she approached Sam nothing seemed to be working. And then something she feared the most happened. Despite how much she tried to tell you it was fine, it happened, you snapped.

~X~ December 2026 ~X~

Getting married didn’t change anything, Sam was still living with Tara and you, and her and Danny were still not living together. They’d spend nights together occasionally, but Sam never brought up the idea of him moving in, or her moving to his place. “Sam, please, just tell me what’s going on,” Tara pleaded when Sam once again chose to ignore how worried she was making Tara be.

“Nothing is going on,” Sam shut her down, not even once looking at Tara as she sat in your shared kitchen. You were out, buying groceries for tonight’s dinner, you and Tara wanted to make this dinner feel special, since it’s been a while since Sam was home for more than a few days. And this time she actually made it through the week without disappearing. “Just make sure to take care of yourself when you get pregnant,” there was frustration in Sam’s voice that Tara immediately noticed.

“Are you angry at me?” Tara asked, not really having any ideas as to why Sam would be angry, but it just felt like she was. Surely she wasn’t angry because Tara wanted to have children, right?

“No,” and Sam refused to elaborate and in her anger and frustration reached into her pocket for her cigarettes just as you came back home. Tara knew Sam never truly quit smoking, though she tried several times, but in all the years since Sam began smoking she never smoked near Tara, and she always made sure Tara couldn’t smell the cigarettes. So, Tara was shocked, but she didn’t say anything, fearing it would make Sam leave again. Her asthma was more manageable, she could handle a cigarette, she hoped.

The doors opened at the worst possible moment and Tara watched your face twisting in anger as you realized Sam had lit a cigarette. “Drop it! Sam, drop it right now!” if there was one thing, just one thing that didn’t involve actually harming someone you loved that would make you snap instantly, it was someone who knew Tara had asthma trying to smoke near her.

“Baby, wait,” Tara got up, stopping you before you could take the cigarettes from Sam. This was already a volatile situation, Sam was frustrated, you were angry, and Tara needed to calm things down. “Let’s just go to our room, okay?” she took the groceries from your hand and placed them on the table, noticing ojo de pancha from a nearby bakery Sam loved at the top. She reached up, cradling your cheek, feeling and seeing the tension on your face. She pulled you closer, relaxing slightly when she felt you relaxing a bit. “Do it for me?” she spent her entire childhood listening to her parents arguing, then to her mother and Sam arguing, she didn’t want to listen to you and Sam arguing as well, especially for her sake.

You sighed, but nodded, ready to just let it be, until Sam spoke, not even bothering to put the cigarette out. “What are you two even thinking? What if Ghostface comes after us again?!” Sam demanded and Tara turned to look at her, at the fury in her eyes.

“Sam?” she called out, not recognizing her sister. She knew Sam was paranoid, but this much? “We weren’t attacked for over four years,” she tried to remind her as she took your hand and took a few steps back, away from Sam’s rage and from the smoke and despite knowing Sam would never hurt her you stepped between her and Sam.

“Tara has me, I won’t let anyone hurt her, or our child,” you said, for the first time in fifteen years you’ve spent as Tara’s best friend, as her protector, as the one person she could always rely on, the guard dog barked at her sister. “You included, Sam, so put that damn cigarette out before I make you,” you warned, your tone dangerously low.

You would turn twenty-six in a bit less than half a year, and for the lack of a better word, you were at your peak. Stronger than even when you fought for the title, or when you fought against Thomas. Speed, strength, skill, all of that was as high as you could take it, and it was one of the reasons why you chose to start a family now, because Tara did worry about Ghostface coming back, and so did you. So, if the two of you wanted children this was the absolute best time to do it, even if it meant starting your family at a fairly young age compared to most couples. You’d be able to maintain this peak for several years, and you’d be close to it well into your thirties if you kept training the way you did now.

Sam scoffed and walked out, and despite Tara’s pleas, she didn’t come back for a week. And Tara? She just cried in your arms, feeling like she was once again losing her sister.

~X~

Looking back now, it was like Tara was looking at herself from back when you first came to New York, only Sam was almost thirty and angrier than Tara ever was. When Tara found out she was pregnant, she wanted to have you and Sam there, but Sam just… left… abandoned Tara again, and no one, not her, not you, not Danny, no one could reach her. For nearly three months now, Tara had no idea where Sam was. And she felt as if her life had fallen apart completely.

Chad, Mindy and Anika left New York a while ago, Chad pursuing his football career, which took him to Miami last year, while Anika and Mindy formed a rising star duo, directing horror movies all over the country for the past two years. So, her group was scattered, and while they all stayed in touch, Tara was only left with you as her constant. Danny was there as well, trying to be supportive while Sam was going through whatever she was going through, but it really was just you and her.

And then, three weeks ago you got arrested, framed for murder you didn’t commit. And the victim? Your own father? He was stabbed, and despite her best efforts, Tara had no idea why you even went there in the first place, she just knew you didn’t do it.

A/N: Right, Tara is pregnant. I’m sure that won’t raise the stakes at all. Anyway, this is my Scream 7, I'm not watching anything unless Melissa and Jenna are back. Have fun with Lost season 2!

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[solbaby7]

(For the blurb bar thing)

*sits on one of the bar stools and leans against the counter)

Can I have a frozen vodka cran with a sugar rim, and add lime please

Oh and here *slides a ten dollar bill across the counter*

oops, i may have added too much lime 😭🫣but it’ll still taste good i swear😬, bottoms up 🍹 alsooo idk what cave you cassian girlies crawled out of but when i tell u my inbox is flooding with cass requests. here yall, you get a beefcake, you get a beefcake, everyone gets a batboy beefcake

[ “why do you even care?” “because i do” + fluff / angst + cassian ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

It is what it is.

That’s the only phrase that keeps you going after countless hours spent hunched over bloodied bodies with their entrails held in their hands. Deep slashes from sharpened blades that leave skin flayed and muscle severed, tendons plucked out of place until sensitive nerves are screaming in agony. “I know it hurts,” You croon softly, care oozing out of every pore as healing magic pulses from you. “I’m sorry, it’ll be over soon.”

Dab with disinfectant there. Pressure to staunch the bleeding. Fire to cauterize. Magic to smooth it all over.

It’s an exhausting process, one that leaves you aching and has your head swimming as you shut the curtain for patient privacy but this isn’t the place to complain about that—not around all of these tortured souls as they endured a pain you couldn’t dare comprehend. “You should get some rest.”

You can’t fight the roll of your eyes at the sound of his voice. “And you should go back to your friends.”

Cassian keeps up with your stride with ease and while you refuse to acknowledge it, you walk a little slower when you catch sight of the neatly wrapped dressings around his thigh. “My friends are fine. You made sure of that. Azriel wouldn’t have made it if you weren’t there.”

“Yeah, well that’s my job.” You don’t bother hiding the irritation in your tone. It’s not normal for exes to be this present. But, you’re certain you catch the scent of him by your window every morning; sandalwood and eucalyptus, crackling embers and oak. A perfectly annoying blend of masculinity and comfort. It haunts you—follows you around the shops when collecting groceries for the week and lingers in your blind spots when treking home after a little too much to drink. Quiet but constant; an unspoken rule that Cassian was definitely breaking. “Something I really need to get back to so if you’re finished—“

“Don’t think I’ll ever be finished with you, peach.”

You hate that charming cadence. Despise the handsome grin that’s flashed your way because he knows how much you (love) loved it. “What do you want Cass?”

“Want you to take better care of yourself.” That’s a lie. At least partially because Cassian knows that what he really wants is to be the one to care for you. He knows he’d do it well—dedicate himself to the roll because there had been a time where it had been his only desire. But Rhys had come back after fifty years and Cass had a High Lady to protect now; had duties to uphold—responsibilities that wouldn’t allow the freedom necessary to take you on picnics in flower fields or to remember anniversaries. “You haven’t been eating enough and you’re always working. You barely even sleep.” He says it oh so gently but you can hear the underlying worry there. Can see it in the way his wings rustle and gaze scans the length of you, most likely noticing the way you resemble a deadman walking.

“You stalking me or something?”

“You promised.” His stance straightens out a little, syllables carrying a little more conviction as he tries to get his point across. “After everything between us, you at least promised that you’d be safe and take care of yourself.”

“You left me, Cassian.” His throat rolls under the shame, chest constricting as he’s forced to witness the way your eyes go glassy. “You walked out on me so what I look like without you shouldn’t matter.” Emotion holds thick in your voice and it takes true effort not to let tears fall down your cheeks. This was too confusing, the back and forth too exhausting, the hope too draining. “Why do you even care?”

A million possible answers claw to the forefront of Cassian’s mouth. Ones that scream, ‘because I love you! Because you’re everything to me.’ So badly he yearns to just let it out and confess how your safety was everything he thinks of when suiting up for battle and drenching himself in the blood of others with no regard for his own life. “Because, I do.” He says instead and he knows it’s not enough—can see the way the light in your eyes die out when you’re left hanging yet again. “Please peach, just get some rest. For me.”

He almost wishes you’d resist; to give him another reason to seek you out and darken your doorstep even if meant just a glimpse at you.

Your shoulders fall too low to be gearing up for a fight and the furrow of your brow wobbles with the effort it takes to keep you from crumbling all together.

Gauze patches at your battered heart. Dab with disinfectant there. Pressure to staunch the bleeding. Fire to cauterize. Magic to smooth it all over. “Fine.” You nod stiffly, the picture of professionalism. “And thank you, General, for your service.”

It is what it is.

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Love Bites | Old School Love Universe

summary: harry's not fed in a while and you just want to help.

word count: 2.1k

read time: 9 min

content warnings⚠️: vampire!harry x human!reader, fluff, angst (if you squint), mentions of biting and blood and vampire biology

a/n: i guess this is a series now? haha enjoy!

Old School Love Universe

For the last week Harry has been avoiding you, which is very unlike your boyfriend. A complete deviation from his normal, arguably clingy, behavior. He’d answer your texts, but would find every excuse not to see you, and your phone calls always seemed to be cut short. You knew it probably had nothing to do with you, but it was beginning to hurt your feelings.  Especially after turning a corner in your relationship following some doubts he’d been having about whether or not you really didn’t mind he was a vampire, you were worried about this seemingly massive step backwards. So you did what any rational girlfriend would do after being ignored by their boyfriend for a week. You showed up at his front door. 

Is forcing a confrontation with Harry a good idea? Probably not. But as the days went on you went from annoyed that Harry was ignoring your text to sad to down right worried about him. So you told yourself it was nothing more than a wellness check, and marched across town to his apartment. 

You exited the elevator of his building, and headed to his door to see a few packages at his front door. He either hadn’t bothered to open his door in a few days or worse, he hadn't been home since he left your apartment last week. 

You didn’t want to panic, he was a vampire he could take care of himself, you're sure of it. But the ‘what if’ swarmed your mind as you lifted your fist knocking on the door. You didn’t hear anything for a moment and decided to knock again. This time you hear some rustling on the other side. 

“Harry. I can hear you in there.” you sigh, relieved at some proof of life. 

After a few moments and more shuffling from the other side of the door, he opens the front door just a crack peeking his head out just barely. Still you can see he doesn’t look like himself.  He looks tired, skin dull with bags under his eyes, and a major case of  bedhead, despite it being mid afternoon. The worry that had dissipated at the knowledge that he was at least safe at home, came back at the sight of him. 

“Doll, what are you doing here?” Harry asks tightly. 

“Open the door and we can talk about it.” you pout, giving him your best doe eyes. 

“You shouldn’t be here, baby.” 

“And why’s that?” 

He looks down shifting his feet, shifting his weight “I - I haven’t fed in a while.” He admits and your need to be close to him grows, although he's determined to keep his distance. 

“Harry, let me in.” you plea, but he shakes his head. 

“Baby Doll, I really shouldn’t.” He wants to let you in, but he’s scared, terrified actually. He knows he won’t hurt you. He’d do everything in his power to make sure that you were safe, which is why he’s iced you out recently. But he’s also never been around you while being as hungry as he is now. His plan was to keep his distance until he was able to reup on his blood bags, get fed and then give you all the cuddles and kisses to make up for him going MIA. You showing up at his door unannounced was not part of the plan. 

“Open the door Harry…please.” There’s a bit of edge to your voice but your eyes are soft and full of sympathy. 

He chuckles a little, shaking his head at your attitude.  My stubborn girl, he thinks. He should have known you weren’t going to leave him be, especially after not having seen him in so long. He opens the door slowly, stepping aside and allowing you to come in. He turns and locks the door. When he turns back to you, you rush in to hug him, nearly knocking him over. 

“It’s dangerous for you to be here while I’m like this.” he sighs sadly as he melts into your hug, though arms don’t quite wrap around you like they normally would. 

“Like what?” you ask brushing some hair from his forehead, and the proximity makes him suck in a breath. He takes your hand kissing your knuckles before intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“I told you, I haven’t fed in a while. I’m too…thirsty for you to be here right now honey.” 

“I know you’re not going to hurt me.” you say confidently and squeeze his hand in yours, “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too, baby. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” 

Your heart breaks at that. You know Harry would never intentionally hurt you, and knowing that he felt he had to lock himself away to keep you safe broke you, just a little. “How long has it been?” you ask and he looks away from you, and your heart sinks, “You haven’t gone this whole time without anything have you?” you ask in a voice laced with worry. “Harry.” 

“I haven't had anything since I left your apartment Friday.” he confesses, “I was supposed to pick up more on Saturday, but my guy at the hospital said they were getting suspicious, and I needed to wait until after the blood drive this weekend, to pick up more.” 

“Why didn’t you call me?” 

“That’s why I didn’t call you.”  He hated to admit it, and he hated discussing  his diet and hunger with you.  But he promised you honesty after he told you his secret and he meant it. But seeing the worry in your eyes now, has made him realize maybe he’s done a shitty job at keeping that promise. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I was just trying to keep you safe. Keep my distance.” 

“I understand.” you sigh, “I just wish you would have told me instead of ghosting me. And I wish you would trust me with things like this H.” 

“I do trust you.” he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly, and then you get an idea. 

“Come here.” you say dragging him to his couch. You sit him down and sit in his lap. He tenses, hands on your hips to lift you off but you don’t budge. 

“Doll.” he warns, stiffly, despite wanting nothing more than to hold you close, “I think it’s best if you -” 

“I want you to drink.” 

Harry’s eyes snap to you, brows knitted together. “What?” 

“Drink.” you say, shifting closer, and pulling the hood of your hoodie to the side exposing more of your neck. 

Harry shakes his head, untangling your arms from around his neck, “No, Baby Doll. I’ll be okay. I can get some blood tomorrow and I’ll be good as new okay? Don’t worry about me.” 

“Too late.” you say, kissing his cheek. Harry turns away, sucking in a breath, but you move closer. “Drink.” 

“We’ve talked about this.” 

“And we agreed that you’d only bite me if I asked and feed from me in case of emergency. What would you call this?” 

“Not an emergency.” He insists, looking at you. 

“You’ve taught me enough about vampires by now for me to know that’s not true.” 

Harry sighs, because he hates when you’re right. He has taught you quite a lot, always answering your endless questions, even asking his friends for answers to some of the questions that he wasn’t sure about. And one of the first things you’d asked him was his diet. You’d noticed in your time leading up to his confession that he almost never ate. He’d cook for the two of you, make sure you were always fed but would only have a few bites himself. It’s when you asked about it that he told you that younger vampires like himself need more blood than a vampire older than him. And that the older he got the longer he could go without feeding and the more he’d be able to stomach solids, but for now, he pretty much lived on blood. And going as long as Harry had  admitted he’d gone without blood was bordering on dangerous. 

“Besides” you say, “You don’t let me miss a meal without a lecture. What makes you think I’m going to let you go for a week?” Harry smirks at you, and he shakes his head fondly. He leans forward and presses a much needed kiss to your lips. 

“What have I done to deserve you?” He looks at you in that love sick way that makes your stomach flip and your cheeks warm up.

“That’s very sweet.” you smile playfully rolling your eyes, “Now drink.” 

Harry chuckles, “You’re sure?”  

“Yes, please.” you say, he shifts you to come closer to him and places a soft kiss to your collarbone first, before moving up your neck to a safe spot. 

“Alright.” He sighs giving in. He’ll beat himself up for being too weak to resist later. Now, he was thirsty and physically weak and desperately needed to feed.  “Stop me if you start to feel light headed, okay?” 

“I will. I trust you.” you smile, “I just want you fed.” 

“Thank you.” He says placing a sweet kiss to your lips. 

Harry's bitten you before. Only briefly and only after you asked him too, curious about what it would be like, and wanting him to eat after you’d had your own dinner. And sometimes he’ll allow himself to indulge when the two of you are fooling around. But never has he bitten you while he was actually thirsty and he was a little worried. But knowing you had so much confidence in him, and his ability to control himself made him more comfortable. 

He places a kiss to your collarbone, and a few up your neck before finding a spot safe enough. He counts down from three, to prepare you for the initial sting of the bite before sinking his fangs into your neck. You move a hand to the back of Harry’s head, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, as he drank. 

He drinks slowly, hands on your hips, thumb stroking the skin under your hoodie to distract you from the slight discomfort of the bite. He drinks for a few short moments before he raises his head up. “You doing okay?” he says into your neck. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Just a little bit more okay?” 

You nod your head and encourage him to keep drinking and he does. With every second that passes you can feel yourself getting to that warm and fuzzy place that you tend to get to when Harry bites you.  He’d explained it was a high of sorts, brought on by a mix of the blood loss, and the ‘venom’ from his bite. Scientifically speaking, the purpose was to incapacitate a vampires ‘prey’, make them more pliant for feeding, and more susceptible to compulsion so they’d  forget the encounter after the fact. In cases like yours though, where said ‘prey’ gave in voluntarily, it would cause a short high and a brief spell of giggles. In cases where you and Harry had already been fooling around, well you’d get a little…needy. 

He drinks for a few more seconds, and then pulls away, full and satisfied. He licks the little bit of blood that's dribbled down his lip, wiping his mouth with the back of his own hoodie sleeve. With his fangs still out, he picks his index finger, drawing a drop of blood and rubs it across your bite marks watching them heal instantly. He kisses your neck one more time “There we go. Good as new.” He smiles, planting a kiss on your lips. He looks up at you and sees you looking down at him with dazed eyes, and chuckles. “Are you doing okay Doll?” 

“Yeah. I’m just - ya know.” you smile, waving your hand. “Are you sure you’re good? Full?” 

Harry nods his head, leaning into your hand that you’ve placed on his cheek. He turns, placing a peck to your palm. “I’m much better now.” He smiles sadly. Just that little bit of your blood, and he looks a million times better. His eyes, the bright emerald you were used to, his skin and hair far less dull than it was when you’d first arrived. He still had some bags under his eyes, but he looked leaps and bounds more healthy. 

“Thank you. For letting me…feed.”  

“You don’t have to thank me. Just glad you're okay. Please call me next time, if you end up in this situation again.” 

“I will,” he says holding up his pinky, “Promise.” you wrap your pinky around his, and he leans forward kissing his fists, and you do the same. 

Maybe it was the bite, or maybe it the way that Harry was looking at you, regardless you were pretty sure you were falling in love with a vampire. 

✨masterlist✨ ∣ ✨yap & request box✨

[eetherealgoddess]

TR: YANDERE BF - ꨄTALKING TO ANOTHER BOY HEADCANONSꨄꨄ

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Characters are 18+

❦Damn, you’re putting ppl at risk without even trying to❦

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Mikey: You had been confused as to why your boyfriend, Mikey’s behavior had become passive aggressive. Ignoring you and refraining from communicating even when you’re in his presence. You’d call and after a couple rings, it’d go to voicemail. You’d text and he’d purposefully read it, just to leave you on read. Confronting him is no use considering every time you do, he never explains himself, continuing to give you the same glare as he had been for a while. Finally, you return the favor by not contacting him, sick of being dismissed.

Surprising you, he showed up to your doorstep. Once you let him in, he gives you a mix between a look of sadness and anger. “How could you flirt with that guy and ignore me like that?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What guy? I didn’t flirt with anyone and it was you who kept ignoring me.” You rebutted as you crossed your arms. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. The problem has been taken care of.” He shrugs before walking to your couch and sitting on it, patting the seat next to him. You follow, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around you.

“I still want to know who you’re talking about. What problem?” His hand runs up your arm and gives it a tight squeeze. “Your coworker.” You take a pause of contemplation before realization hits. “Ah, Mikey I have to talk to my coworkers. You should’ve told me that’s what you’ve been so upset about.” You say before giving him a comforting peck. You spend the afternoon in each other’s arms once all is forgiven.

The next day you show up to your job at a retail shop, eyebrows furrowing when you see the manager and employees gathered around each other, murmuring. You walk up to them. “What’s going on?” One of your coworkers turns to you as the rest continue talking. “You haven’t heard? Isamu passed yesterday.” You gasp. “Isamu? What happened.” “Apparently he was found wounded in his home. They’re investigating it as manslaughter.” Your eyes widen. It’s insane to think of someone you had talked to only a few days ago, being pronounced dead, especially by murder.

“What guy? I didn’t flirt with anyone and it was you who kept ignoring me.” You rebutted as you crossed your arms. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. The problem has been taken care of.” He shrugs… The memory invades your mind. During your work day, you couldn’t stop replaying what Mikey said. As well as the timing of everything, so you confront him after stopping at his apartment unannounced after work.

“Did you do it?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Isamu, did you kill him?” You whisper the last part, still in disbelief. “No, why would you ask me that?” You furrow your eyebrows. “You shouldn’t worry your head about problems that don’t exist anymore, Y/n” You pause in contemplation before allowing him to pull you in. You shower before you decide to spend the night with him, still shaken up by your co-worker's death and a killer on the loose. As Mikey hugs you from behind while you bask in the warmth of his arms and the blankets, your eyes shoot wide open. “The problem has been taken care of.” “You shouldn’t worry your head about problems that don’t exist anymore.”

Kazutora: “Do you like him?” Your boyfriend asks as you walk hand in hand from the booth with a stuffed animal in your arm. “Like, who?” He gives you a side eyed glance before stating, “That man back there.” “The guy who worked at the booth?” He doesn’t respond, keeping his head straight ahead. You stop walking and turn to him. “Kazu, we have to listen to the rules at the booths.” “Yeah, but you did more than listen.” You sigh. “I just needed clarification on one of the rules which is why I asked him to repeat himself. That’s all, babe.”

“I didn’t like the way you looked at each other.” You look at him with disbelief. “l literally make eye contact with everyone I’m talking to because that’s what you’re supposed to do.” “He clearly wanted to do more.” You hold back from rolling your eyes, knowing your boyfriend gets insecure from time to time and overthinks. “Is there any way I can prove to you that I want you and not him?” You ask while caressing his hand with your thumb.

“You can kiss me.” He smiles. You chuckle before leaning in and meeting his lips with yours. He used his other hand to wrap around the back of your neck gently pulling you closer. You move back once he tries to use tongue, warmth in your face in embarrassment at the people who passed by. You continue your walk to the apartment you shared, getting ready for bed. You lie down as Kazutora tells you he’s going to grab some water right before you fall into a deep slumber. Instead, he grabs some gloves before passing the kitchen to the front door, heading straight for the carnival.

When he reaches the booth, he walks behind it, motioning for the guy to get closer. He snatches him by the shirt and throws him on the ground, glancing up to make sure nobody can see behind the booth. He covers the surprised man’s mouth and pulls out a switchblade. Before the guy could react, Kazutora swings the blade down, penetrating the man’s stomach. He repeats as the guy yelps against his hand, attempting to push him off by grabbing his shoulders. He continues his assault as the man becomes quieter and weak. Once his body was limp and lifeless orbs sat still, he stood up, wiping the blade off and shoving it into his pocket. He takes his gloves off and shoves them in his pocket as well before walking off as nothing happened.

You were still asleep when he arrived, smiling and kissing your forehead before he got ready for a shower. Once he finished, he eased into the sheets and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he kissed up your neck, purposefully waking you to have a passionate night.

Ran: You wince as Ran’s arm tightens around your waist, nails piercing your skin through the fabric of your shirt, though a smile on his face as you continue to converse with the old friend who’s telling him about your old endeavors. “Yeah we were pretty crazy in school.” You nod nervously, attempting to speed the conversation. Once finished, you both say your goodbyes as you and Ran walk off. “H-hey, you okay?” “Yeah.” Your eyebrows furrow as you eye the stoic expression. “Are you sure, babe?” He turns to give you his infamous smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be?” You sigh in relief, still a little suspicious, though willing to let it go if he claims to be fine. “I’m just making sure, your grip seems to tighten back there.” “Oh, sorry about that. I didn’t notice.”

“So you’re okay with us hanging out again? Like old times?” A pause of silence causes anxiety while you wait for his answer. “Of course.” You smile as you lean into him more while you walk. You give your kiss goodbyes as he drops you off at your apartment. Once the door is closed, he walks away, pulling out your phone as he contacts the old friend via message. He tells him to meet him at a cafe, in which the guy complies thinking it’s you. Once the friend is there, he looks around in confusion, searching for you outside of the building. Before he can walk inside to check, he’s grabbed by the shoulder, an arm reaching around his shoulders and walking with him towards an alleyway.

His eyebrows furrow at the baton in your boyfriend’s hand as well as the close eyed smile on his face. Before he knows it, he’s shoved to the dirty ground into a puddle of water. “What the hell?” Before he picks himself up, the object slams down on his shoulder before it’s slammed against his stomach. Attempting to pick himself up once more, he rolls over, face becoming wet with sweat and grime as he yelps and grunts, coughing up blood. Another hit though on his back causes him to drop back down, along with a scream of pain.

“Cancel your date with my girlfriend and delete her number.” “D-dude, it wasn’t a da-!” Another hit lands, this time to his face. He continues to hit him over and over until he’s limp and lying still in his own puddle of blood. “I’ll kill you if I have to do it myself.” The friend slowly grabs his phone while trembling and sends you the message, canceling plans and deleting your number. “Block her on everything.” He complies before finally giving into the darkness. Ran smirks before walking to his apartment to drop his stuff off and clean himself up, heading to your apartment after.

“Oh! I was wondering where my phone went. Thanks babe.” You smile happily. He gives you a kiss before you invite him in for a romantic night of cuddles and love.

Rin: He couldn’t help but eye your phone’s screen as he caressed you from behind, watching as you text back and forth with your step brother. “When did he join your family?” “Only recently when mom and his dad married. Why?” “Just curious.”

The next night, your new step brother comes to visit. A dinner made as you all sit at your family’s table. Rin watched with a stoic expression as the step brother would flirt and make jokes, occasionally gripping your thigh as you laughed uncomfortably, nobody but Rin seeming to notice the weird behavior. Sometimes the newcomer would even glance at your boyfriend whenever he would act out.

Once the dinner was over, you all decided to stay the night with your parents, you and Rin getting your old room while your brother stayed in the guest room. When everyone was asleep, Rin snuck out of the room and walked into the guest bedroom. Using a cloth he balled up, he shoved it into the sleeping brother’s mouth and hopped on top of him. He punched him, waking him up with wide eyes. Before the guy under him could attack, Rin pulled out the gun he brought without your knowledge and set it to the man’s head.

“You gonna flirt with her again?” The man shakes his head. “What about touching her thigh?” He shakes his head frantically, fear causing him to tremble under your boyfriend. He pulls the gun back as he flips his hair and readjusts his glasses. “Good. I thought I’d have to kill you in her parents' home. That wouldn’t have been a good look for me.” He smirks before hopping off of the scared man who pissed himself. “You should take care of that. It stinks.”

Sanzu: His eyes narrow while he watches you at your job, bartending amongst all of the dirty scum that hang around you. He regularly sits at a table where you can’t see him, watching as your personal guardian angel. You have no idea that your boyfriend hangs out at the place you work for hours. You have no idea that with every man that flirts with you is another name to his list of people to terrorize. You have no idea that he just caught someone trying to touch you, the security you called having to throw the drunk out of the bar without even knowing he threw him to a shark.

You had no clue that Sanzu had grabbed the man and pulled him into his car. You had no knowledge of the warehouse he brought them to. You also didn’t know that he ties them up and acts out different torture methods, killing them in the process. You couldn’t have known about the pile of bodies he’s chopped and burned. There’s no way you know about the clean up process as well as the shower he takes to wash the blood away once he reaches home.

You just go about your nights normally, cheerfully conversing with people as the parties go on. At the end of the night you clean up and go home to your lovely boyfriend who greets you with a sweet expression. Excited for your nightly cuddles and maybe even love making you get ready for bed, snuggling into his arms at night, unknown to the cycle that repeats the next day.

[kinglivv]

Is it Casual Now?

Kate Lethbridge Stewart x reader

Summary: You and Kate are closer than what friends with benefits should really be.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sex, dysfunctional relationship

A/N: based off the chappell roan song!

You’d promised yourself you’d stop sleeping with her.

You hadn’t told Kate this of course, but then why would you? It was casual. She’d told you that. She’d made it explicitly clear whenever you’d asked the dreaded “what are we?” question. You’d overheard her say it to Mel. You saw it in the way she never mentioned you to her kids.

The thing was, sex with Kate Stewart could never be casual.

Casual was not thinking about her every waking moment. Casual was not having an album of her in your camera roll. Casual was not baby-sitting her cat when she had a late night at the office.

But that doesn’t seem to occur to her and so, you decide, it’s probably time to stop having sex with your boss.

This plan lasts all of three weeks. Three weeks of ignoring her glances, missing her calls and pretending not to notice her stuff littered around your flat.

And then, as fate has it, you’re assigned to a stake-out with her. It was pure coincidence - you were the only two with enough experience and, as it happens, enough flexi-hours left to work outwith the usual 9 to 5.

You sit in the dark with her in silence for all of 30 minutes, before she turns to you and gives you that look. You know you don’t stand a chance and within minutes, you’re allowing her to clamber into you lap, willingly pushing your seat back and then she’s knee-deep in the passenger seat and her mouth is on you. You come on the expensive leather of the UNIT-issue car and you’re thanking your lucky stars for the tinted windows.

Later, when you’ve got her in the backseat and she’s in your arms, breathing finally evening out, she looks up at you and smiles, “Missed you.”

She doesn’t even realise you’ve been avoiding her. She thinks you’ve just been busy.

And just like that you settle into your old routine.

It used to be a rare occasion. It first happened after a tipsy kiss at the work Christmas do, and then a few months later it happened again after a successful mission when you were both giddy from the adrenaline. Then it became every few weeks. Then, it became every Friday evening. Then it became every Saturday morning, because you kept staying the night.

You talk to Mel about it briefly. She’s the only one who knows there’s anything going on between you and Kate, and she tells you bluntly that you shouldn’t be lusting after a twice-divorced, emotionally unavailable woman who was heading up the most clandestine department in Government. In other words, you’re a loser.

So, you try a different strategy to get over her. Said strategy involves sex with someone else from Tinder following a mediocre date. You can’t find your favourite bralette and although she’s pretty, she doesn’t make you come. It’s only afterwards when she’s fallen asleep that you remember the bralette’s in Kate’s dresser.

The following night, Kate turns up on your front step in a red silk dress and pins you against the door. She’d been at some boring dinner. She told you she liked the idea of your lap, her dress around her waist and your strap dipping in her. Just like that, your plan once again goes out the window.

You meet her mum one morning when you’re leaving Kate’s house for work. Kate mumbles some story about you needing to stay over because you had no hot water, and the old lady takes it at face value. You chat to her at the breakfast table whilst Kate makes coffee, and find you have everything in common. Before you know it, you’ve got an invite to her holiday home in St Ive’s - she’s too old to get down there now and how have you never visited before?

The holiday there with Kate is heavenly. You spent a whole week sleeping next to her in bed. She shows you her favourite lunch spot. You teach her how to plait your hair. You fuck her on the beach. Because your whole relationship revolves around sex. Of course. Obviously.

You argue about it once. Just the once.

You’re watching a movie, bowl of popcorn between you. It’s one of the rare evenings you’ve both managed to get home, and when you’d turned up at her door she’d held up a DVD of the Italian Job and invited you in.

You found yourself gazing at her in the light of the television, the chattering mere background noise.

“I could do this forever, you know,” you confess softly.

She tears her eyes away from the screen, smirks at you.

“No attachments, remember?” She teases.

Suddenly any semblance of peace and relaxation you were feeling evaporates. The anxiety curls up in your stomach like a dead spider.

“Yeah because our relationship is nothing more than sex,” you respond sarcastically.

She looks taken aback. You’re picking a fight, you know, but you’ve been desperate for an opportunity.

“We’re not together, Y/N.” She points out.

“Yeah but you’ll act like it. When it suits you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“We’re literally sat here watching your favourite movie at 10pm,” you say, “I have keys to your place. You know my middle name. You do know what I mean.”

“I really don’t.” She says, in that flat tone she uses at work when she makes an order. It means she’s right and she’s not entertaining any debate.

“Fuck off, Kate,” you shove the blankets off and hope she hears the door slam behind you.

She pulls you into her office the next day, and apologises for arguing but doesn’t apologise for what she said. She kisses you and you can’t help but forgive her.

The thing is, Kate gets you. She knows exactly what you want. She buys you matching lingerie for your birthday. She brings you coffee at work. She fucks you after a near death experience so you can feel something. She gives you lifts to your pilates class. She moans something suspiciously close to “I love you” when she comes in your shower, and you do your best to forget about it. She helps you choose what colour to paint your kitchen. She gets you off again. And again and again. The cycle is inescapable, all because you’re too weak to say no to those eyes.

The tipping point is some time around the one year mark, when this dilemma of yours is at least 5 months old. You can’t remember how many times you’d mentally called it off.

You’re in her bed (where else would you be?), suitably fucked and lying half on top of her, a strong arm wrapped around your waist. Her phone pings, and you groan as she pulls away to pick it off the bedside table.

“Oh,” she remarks, reading the message. “Charlotte’s cancelled dinner with Gordy and his new girlfriend tonight.”

“What?” You mumble, half asleep and pressing into her neck further.

“Charlotte.” She repeats. “We were meant to be going for dinner tonight with Gordy. He’s got a new girlfriend he wants to formally introduce to the family. But she’s got a migraine, says she’s not coming.”

You were used to the background noise of Kate’s family life. Charlotte and Gordy didn’t feature greatly in your relationship, busy at university, and Kate had purposely kept you at arms length from them. You knew everything about Charlotte and Gordy, but you’d never met them and they’d never met you.

“Do you…” she says hesitantly, “do you want to come? The reservations for four, and you know how much I hate meeting his rotation of girlfriends. I can’t do it alone.”

You look up at her.

“I thought I was a separate thing to your kids?”

“Yeah but, you’re one of my best friends. I’ll tell them that.”

You sigh an agreement, trying not to think of that word “friends”, and before you know it you’re sat next to her in a fancy restaurant opposite Gordy - who is rather disconcertingly the spitting image of his mother - and his timid girlfriend.

Kate’s hand is dancing on your thigh. You’re trying not to think about the suit she’s wearing. Gordy’s looking in between you two suspiciously, and vaguely you wonder if he’s used to his mother’s antics, if you’re not the first girl she’s fawned over.

She excuses herself between the main course and dessert and as she disappears into the bathroom she winks at you. You muster some excuse about needing to check your make up, and then you’re slipping into the bathroom behind her, locking the door and pleased to see there’s a mirror over the sink.

You bend her over it and fuck her from behind (you know that gets her off fastest and time is of the essence here), but you can’t quite bring yourself to meet her eyes in the mirror. Not three minutes later, she’s leaning into back against the sink and you’re straightening out her lapel and wiping away her smudged mascara. She dips down and kisses you, pushes you against the wall, starts to fiddle with the hem of your skirt.

“Wait, Kate. Stop,.” you push her off you. She steps back, frowning.

“What?” She asks.

“You’re not fucking me in a restaurant whilst your son waits at our table.”

She looks crestfallen. Offended, even. Not at your refusal, but rather at the way you’d laid out the reality of the situation so bluntly.

You return to the table - Gordy and his girlfriend seem too wrapped up in each other to have noticed your absence - and you can’t help but feel somewhat bitter and used. The atmosphere is icy. Maybe you are just some colleague she bangs on her sofa when she needs it.

Afterwards, when you’re sat in your car outside the restaurant, you send her the fatal text.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

She doesn’t reply.

[alwaysthefool]

Like lightning (x Jouno)

Tags/Synopsis: Jouno is scared of the extremely loud and close thunderstorm, comfort, gender neutral

Warnings: reader is a screw up*. again v personal, fear of thunder, loud noises description, cursing, you have symptoms of depression (lol)

You were something akin to a disgraced knight, and you shouldn’t have been allowed to be on any mission, let alone one with a hunting dog. This one, at least, should’ve been easy. You two simply had to stake out in the middle of nowhere, waiting to intercept a van, your own vehicle being hidden behind a few rocks.

You were technically just the driver, and maybe backup, but Jouno did not say anything to you on those lines, and you decided not to ask as you knew he preferred silence. Whatever, he probably has it under control already. You thought even though you did not know him outside his great reputation. You even kept a large distance, deciding to look out for the car at the other side of the road, where you knew it wouldn’t even be coming from. What you did see in the distance, however, were dark clouds approaching.

With a deep breath, mustering whatever confidence you had left, to walk over to him, trying to tiptoe as to not make any noise.

“What they say about you is true.” He stared directly at you, from at least 20 feet away. “You’re useless and sloppy. Was that an attempt at sneaking up on me? He raised his sword at you, closing a little of the distance.

You had heard those kind of words from everybody recently, so it did not affect you much. It was true, you were a mess, you ruined everything and there was nobody to blame. Neither your expressions, nor your heart faltered. There was nothing that could make you more disheartened. If anything, the only way up from that point in your life was up. “I think it’s about to rain.”

“You don’t say.” Jouno replied, a little disheveled and irritated. You could hear the thunder getting closer, the lightning flashes seemingly intense.

“You should watch out from the car, just to be safe.”

Jouno scoffed at that. “Do you think lightning will be able to do anything to me? I’m more durable than even rubber.”

“You’re still just human.” You murmured, stupidly hoping he did not hear your sleight. You thought your wish was answered as he did not respond to that, only telling you to go inside the car alone.

You did not realise when the clouds had come so close, until a lightning stroke struck downwards, meeting a tree not too far away from where you two stood, the light strong enough to make even Jouno flinch, and the thunder that followed within seconds making him hold on to your hand, cursing under his breath. Almost instinctively, you put your hand on his shoulder as a kind gesture, though you knew when he’d come out of the shock, he’d push you away with a nasty comment.

For some reason, he kept holding you, iron tight, his knuckles white, although it didn’t seem to hurt you.

���Hey.” You spoke softly.

“Shut the fuck up.” Jouno’s head was down, but you could still see his nervous expression from how tall he was.

Another flash of lightning struck between the overhead clouds, the sound a little lighter than before but enough to make Jouno cling to you a little closer. You too, held him close to you, realising he eventually turned the distance between you to into an intimate hug, his strong arms encapsulating your waist, his head on top of yours, and his hips as close to yours as they could get. You wondered if anyone had ever held anyone else closer than he was holding you.

“How-“ He flinched again when another stroke of lightning decided to strike on the open grass fields beside the road, not minding as your fingers found their way to his hair, taking off his cap and gently stroking his scalp. He breathed out in contentment, squeezing you a little tighter as if to tell you to continue. “How is your heartbeat so calm?”

You weren’t sure why either. You liked nature, and were used to loud sounds from machinery and weapons that littered your life. And it wasn’t like you cared that much about getting into dangerous situations. Whatever was meant to happen would happen, and there was no point resisting it. “Well, it’s much quieter than all the screams of my victims.” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

To your surprise, Jouno did let out a soft exhale.

“You really should go inside the car, Jouno.” You reluctantly pulled away to look at him, his sweet face as confused as a dog who did not why he was not receiving pets any longer. He gently tried to tug you into a hug again, but you put your cool hands on his warm face. “Go, I’ll take care of this.”

“No, I want to hear your body. It’s the only thing that- well, I mean-“ His face turned completely red and hot, but he did not pull away from your touch. And maybe for the first time that day, there was irregularity in your heartbeat.

“Tell you what.” Your hands crept down from his face to his hands, which he immediately interlocked with yours. “You can have me for as long as you need after we’re done with this.”

“Oh?” His lips curled into a smirk, but faltered immediately with another nearby stroke of lightning. “Okay.” He obliged, but did not let your hands go. You smiled, a contortion of muscles that felt almost foreign to you, as you reached into your back pocket, his hand that still held yours following, pulling out your phone and earphones.

“You can listen to my playlist to drown out the sounds.”

His hand finally pulled away from yours, as he put your phone in his pocket. “Are you sure you’ll be fine out here alone?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” You retorted. Jouno smiled as he walked back to the car, faithful that the person who could stand their ground against the wrath of the sky would be able to deal with some crooks from nowhere easily.

—x—

*for immersion you can imagine your most recent screw up. lol

[trenchcoatimpala]

Don't Fade

More of the same. Read also on archive

Dean wasn’t going to admit that it was awkward. Cas had been back for three days and he hadn’t been able to say anything. He didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, or if he could even find the words to make sense of what was going on in his head. Cas was patient, he didn’t ask for anything, didn’t bring up that day and Dean didn’t know if he was disappointed about it or relieved. 

He’d hugged Cas within an inch of his newfound life when the ritual had worked and the angel had appeared before him and Sam in the library. He may have cried but Sam wouldn’t know that and Cas knew well enough not to mention it, and why shouldn’t he cry? When a guy confesses his love to you and then dies you’re allowed to cry when he comes back. 

The problem with it all was that Dean didn’t actually know how he felt about Cas. He knew he cared about him, deeply, more than he’d ever cared about anyone except for Sam, but he also knew that he didn’t love Cas like he loved Sam. He said he did. Always calling Cas brother and friend, but there was something scratching at the surface of those words, something unspoken that Dean tried to suck the air from so it withered and died and he could leave it buried. 

But it was like that feeling thrived on being smothered,it was even more desperate the longer he let it simmer, suffocating under dirt and grit as worms tried to eat it, but it only grew stronger. A pull in his heart that yanked him by a chain, dragging him up and down a proverbial road, and he couldn’t shake it, couldn’t drown it, couldn’t burn it to the ground, it clung to him like a parasite, and he should admit it was a welcome one, but he couldn’t. Admitting it made it real and if it was real he could lose it. He’d already lost Cas, too many times, and each time was as unbearable as the last, as if he was the one suffocating, buried in his own grave with panic brawling in his chest as he tried to dig himself out. 

And he knew what that was like. The first time Cas had touched him had been to put him back in his grave and since then Dean had been gravitating towards him, wanting that touch to consume him. He’d often found himself staring at the handprint on his shoulder in the days following Cas’ sacrifice. It was a faint outline now, weathered by time. And terror had crashed into him as he realized this time Cas being gone might be for real, and this would be the first place Castiel, Angel of the Lord had touched him, as well as the last, and the remnants of that first time were all but a few bumps on pink flesh, and the shadow of the last time was fading fast in crusted blood on a jacket he couldn’t bear to throw away. 

Tears had poured hot and unsteady down his cheeks as he looked at the handprint he’d bore for the past twelve years. He didn’t have anyone left to pray to or believe in, but in that moment, staring at the reflection of what he had left of his best friend, the words came out of him, a wretched sob curled up in a plea; the sister of a prayer: “Don’t fade.” 

“Please don’t fade, don’t go, you can’t leave me,” Dean begged. “Not all of you, please, this is all I have left.” 

Don’t fade.

Don’t fade.

Don’t fade.

He had chanted over and over again, and yeah, okay, maybe Dean did know how he felt about Cas, and maybe that was why it was so awkward to be around him. What if Cas had changed his mind in the empty? What if he didn’t love him anymore? What if he didn’t know how? What if Dean didn’t know how to let someone in like that? What if an angel and human couldn’t even be together? Was there some kind of law against it? There probably should be. But Dean also didn’t want to care about all that because for once in his life he had a shot at something that would make him happy and shouldn’t he take it? Didn’t he deserve it? After everything he’d been through, everywhere his body had been dragged across the Earth by an Archangel, all the times his psyche had been toyed with, didn’t he deserve to let himself love? 

“Dean?” 

Dean looked up to see Cas in his doorway and he realized he was sitting with his hand cradling his shoulder, the shoulder that was home to Cas’ burning touch. “Oh, uh, hey,” he said awkwardly, shifting on the bed. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, ‘course,” Dean replied, forcing a smile. 

Cas sighed, long suffering and sad. “Please don’t lie to me.” 

“Cas-” 

“No, Dean, if this is about what I said to you before I-” 

“Before you died?” Dean finished for him, standing up so he could confront the angel. “Yeah, you know what, Cas, it is about what you said. How could you say that to me?” 

“I didn’t think I would see you again,” Cas said quietly, barely managing to look at Dean. 

Dean turned away from him, anger burning suddenly in his veins. “Is that supposed to make it better? What, you don’t think I can handle you being in love with me, so you leave it to a deathbed confession so you don’t have to find out!?” 

“I knew you didn’t feel the same way,” Cas replied defensively. “I didn’t see any point in bringing it up to you sooner.” 

Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Wait, so you just decided for me how I felt?” The confusion on Cas’ face only spurred Dean on. “You’re an idiot,” he snapped. “You don’t even know- God, Cas, you drive me fucking insane!” 

“I don’t understand,” Cas said, tilting his head to survey Dean. 

“How I feel about you,” Dean began, trying to reign himself in, “Cas, man, there aren’t words.” He shrugged off his flannel and pushed up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the handprint, “You gave me this, before we even properly met, and it’s all I had of you, every single time I lost you, it was the only thing I had left, and every day it gets harder and harder to see and you have no idea how much that hurts me. Because it’s like watching you fade away as if you never existed, as if we never had anything between us. And when you were gone I tried to remember what you sounded like, what it felt like when you healed me, how my name sounded when you said it, and I prayed for you back. I wanted it so badly I was dizzy with it. And now you’re here, and you dare to tell me you don’t think I love you back?”

Cas was staring at him, shock emanating from his very being. “I never thought- Dean, I don’t know what to say.” 

“I have a lot of issues, which you know,” Dean said as he drew closer to Cas, “and one of those issues is not being very good at saying how I feel, or letting myself want things, but I want you, Cas. I don’t know when it started but I do, and I don’t know who I am without that want.” Cas was close now, his eyes blown wide in surprise and lust. “Touch me,” Dean begged, his lips mere inches from Cas’, “touch me like it’s the first time.” 

Cas surged forward, one hand coming up to cup Dean’s cheek and the other to land on his shoulder. Fire surged through the contact and Dean felt the burn of Cas’ hand imprinting on his skin, refreshing a mark that had come to be Dean’s greatest companion, and the kiss that followed was a promise shaped in the hot brand of tongues sliding against tongues and prayers finally being answered.

tag list, ask to be added or removed

@undeadcas @tearsofgrace @hellerstiel @casgetoutofmyass0907 @wantstoflyafraidtofall @gayhuckleberryinatrenchcoat @thepixelagora@thelahatiel  @im-sam-fucking-winchester@piebook67 @bestiarum@theedeangirl@november5th@bixlasagna@ancient-fangirl@famouspsychicpizzabandit@you-cant-spell-subtext-without@bumbledumble1@cascigarette@addicted2demons @our-stars-graveside @fivefeetfangirl @evillittleguy

[idkiwasntsupposedtobebackhere]

ok so since people didn’t cut my head off for my unpopular opinions i’m gonna expand on the second one. so for people in the gilmore girls fandom it’s pretty much the general opinion that luke is a saint for taking jess in and that jess screwed things up and that it’s his fault luke kicked him out. ”he got himself kicked out”. even people who like jess seem to think this is fair. so as someone who watches gilmore girls mostly for jess i have a different perspective that i’ve never actually vocalized but i figured maybe this little corner of the internet wouldn’t hate me for this, as long as it doesn’t make it out of here.

so i also first of all think that the fact that jess has to work at luke’s and graduate in order to stay there is a bit sad. like everyone around him his age has somewhere they can stay without conditions, and people wonder why he’s the only one worried about making money. and yes, it’s a fine idea in theory, he has to change his ways if he wants to stay with luke bc that’s the point of him being there, sure, but luke could stand to NOT always bring it up to jess during fights that can’t stay with him if he violates the conditions.

bc the thing is that luke very clearly makes it known that he doesn’t want jess there and that the whole situation is kind of a pain in his ass that he’s doing out of obligation. a minor is entitled to a place to stay where they can be an asshole unconditionally, actually, and they shouldn’t have to be constantly grateful to have that. and if luke didn’t want to fully commit and be that place, he should have said no to taking jess in. you don’t get to get all the praise for doing a good deed and then get all pissy about actually following through with it.

like i know luke and jess aren’t the main characters and that their scenes and dynamic are for comedy. but then they play off jess leaving as serious so i should be allowed to analyze their scenes seriously. and my conclusion is… luke is not that nice to jess LOL. like i can’t think of a single scene where he responds to him in any other manner than pissed off or annoyed. he never stops treating him like a bad kid. we know luke cares about jess but does jess have any reason to believe that? or does he think this is all for liz? like i know their scenes are jokes but for someone who complains so much about what a difficult person jess is to connect with, i think luke missed a lot of moments to do it.

luke taking jess in in general is nice, YES, but i’m not talking about just good intentions here. and i know that it was a very good intention but i, again, just super dislike the whole ”you wouldn’t have anywhere to stay if it wasn’t for me, so watch it”-attitude. even in season 4 luke basically said that jess had to come to liz’ wedding because he was there for him when no one else was. and i think that’s a shitty thing to say to someone who deserved more. i know luke didn’t have to do it bc he’s not his parent and that’s why people forgive him and not liz, who is his parent and did have to do it. but i think luke agreed to be jess’ parent and if he didn’t want to, he could have said no to his sister for once in his life. anyways, i think i’ve made my point.

also, i love you luke, my world just revolves around your nephew. i know i’m putting a lot of unrealistic expectations on a guy who’s pretty emotionally constipated. and he did come through with the big things, like giving jess money in sesson 4. but i’m talking about the little things that could have made even more of a difference. just don’t get it twisted ok, luke and jess’ relationship is my fave on the show, i may like it even more than rory and jess’, but when i enjoy something i analyze it. so don’t think i don’t love them, because i do! i just want to squash the idea that luke did everything he could but that jess ultimately was too difficult, because i disagree with that.

[daytaker]

Only Human

Solomon thinks he deserves a little more credit.

Ship: Solomon x Reader (One-Sided) Word Count: 823 NightBringer Timeline Cross-Posted on AO3

Welcome home! What did you get up to today?

Ah… Uh-huh…

…What a headache.

Brothers, brothers, brothers. It’s always all about the brothers for you. It’s a little unfair, you know. Who’s there to protect you when things with “the brothers” go south? Hm? That’s right. But you just keep on charging after them as if they’re all that matters in the world. Never mind that I’m the one who literally followed you back in time. Never mind that I’m the only one who knows everything about your situation. Never mind that I’m the only one here who doesn’t have any agenda besides getting you home.

…Fair point. I suppose saying I don’t have any agenda isn’t completely honest. But who would I be if I didn’t sprinkle in some friendly, misleading comments with a big smile on my face?

I’ve become very attached to you. I’m not ashamed of that, and I’ve never tried to hide it. You’re a very charming person, and it’s only natural that if angels and demons are susceptible to that charm, I would be too. I’m only human, after all.

But please don’t forget this: you’re only a human too.

Allow me to reassure you that I’ll never become so resentful that I’d leave you behind. You’re far too precious for me to pull a stunt like that, and you’re far too unpredictable for me to even pretend I’d do it. For all I know, the minute I turn my back, you’ll somehow find yourself contractually obligated to serve as Vizier to the Acting Demon Lord for the next seven centuries, or be married to three or four of the brothers all at once. No, that isn’t how things work in the Devildom, but I still wouldn’t be surprised if you somehow pulled it off by sheer force of will.

Why don’t you just calm down and settle down with me instead?

Of course, I don’t suppose I plan on ever settling down. It would be awfully hypocritical of me to hold you to a different standard just because I felt a little jealous.

Yes, I feel jealous. You know I’m not ashamed of my feelings. That’s something I learned to get past after my first century or two of life. Being ashamed over your own feelings is a good way to make yourself miserable.

So I’ve come up with a great way to make myself less jealous and make you less attached to these past versions of the brothers. Are you ready to hear it? Why are you making that face? It’s a great idea, trust me!

We should become lovers.

What’s that look? You’re going to hurt my feelings. Anyway, there are plenty of practical reasons to follow this course of action; reasons that have no basis in emotion at all. For one thing, my reputation precedes me, so you would benefit from the respect and fear that attach themselves to my name. It’s also possible that strengthening our bond might make it easier for you to follow my trail of energy back into the future. And on a more immediate, practical note, it would cut down on heating expenses if we shared a bed.

Haha! I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You should have seen your face. And I thought Lucifer could be scary!

It seems like I haven’t convinced you yet. You’re awfully stubborn, you know? But I like that about you. I like almost everything about you.

Everything except that irritating fascination you have with those seven.

I guess I haven’t been too open about how I felt about that in the past (or in the future?). But I may as well lay my cards out on the table now. I would love to know how it feels to have you look at me the way you look at them. Maybe if you just had that sort of connection with just one of them, I could accept it, but it’s an entire family! It shouldn’t be that hard to squeeze an eighth person into the fold. But sometimes it feels like you barely spare me a second glance. Me! The greatest sorcerer to ever live; a human so enigmatic that angels and demons and reapers can barely understand me. 

Do you have a thing for demons in particular? Is it the tails? I suppose I’ll always come up short where tails are concerned. Dare I ask why you find tails so appealing? Surely it isn't...?

Hahaha! Oh, man, that face was even scarier than the last one!

It doesn’t really matter, I guess. Adore whoever you want to adore; I’ll always be the one who taught you magic. And no one can take that away from me. Not even you, my adorable apprentice.

Just so we’re on the same page, was that a ‘no’ to becoming lovers?

What about sharing a bed?

Sigh… You’re as cold as ice sometimes. I love that about you.

[pretty-blkgirl]

Enough

//gn!reader x Chan//

Synopsis: You and you husband go to marriage counseling, but all seems lost.

Genre: angst

Warnings: SAD AF, implied cheating, angsttttt

A/N: I really like this, even though it’s super short and really upsetting 🥹 (gonna have to make a happy Chan fic after this)

~~~~|~~~~

Do you love me, Chris?” You ask, tears already running down your face. Your husband sits next to you, head down to avoid your gaze.

The marriage counselor in front of you watched with wide eyes as if her favorite TV show is beginning to reach its climax.

You couldn’t believe you were sitting there, 3 years of marriage and 6 years of being together seemingly going to waste as your husband continues to ignore your question. A question that shouldn’t bring hesitancy, it should have been a quick yes.

But he sits there, quiet. As the seconds go on, your sadness turns into pure anger. You were starting to see red, and you wanted nothing more than to tear that office apart.

“ANSWER ME” You scream, startling both him and the counselor.

Poor woman, she wanted to stop the impending fight but she stayed frozen, the shock being too much for her.

“…why are you asking me that?” He finally speaks, making your heart rate start to quicken.

He didn’t say yes….

It seemed like your relationship was flashing before your eyes. The day you met, the first date, him proposing, then your wedding.

The first year was amazing, the second year seemed perfect, and it was the start of the third that everything started to go downhill.

“Wow,” You say, completely shocked and disappointed, “So you fell out of love?”

“Y/n-”

“It’s a yes or no Chris. Stop beating around the fucking bush and tell me.”

“You don’t have to swear at me”

“And you don’t have to sit here and waste my FUCKING time over a relationship that’s clearly over.”

You stand, grab your bag, and walk towards the door. Chris finally looks up, meeting your fiery eyes.

You wonder if he’s going to beg for you to sit back down. If you walked out the door right now, would he follow? Would he cry and beg for you to stay with him?

Would he reveal that this whole thing was just a big joke? Nothing was real! The distancing himself, the taking extended work trips every weekend, the random person calling his phone at 3 am, and ESPECIALLY the act he’s putting on now.

You hoped he would, but he only stared at you. His eyes were glossy, but no tears fell.

“6 years,” you say quietly, glaring at your once loving and devoted husband, “You wasted 6 years of my life. Years I could have spent traveling, finding myself- or a person who would actually love me”

“I did love you”

Did….past tense.

The ache in your heart grew, making your chest hurt so bad you nearly cried out in pain. You didn’t, though. You cried and screamed enough, you won’t allow him the pleasure of seeing how much he’s breaking you.

The counselor suddenly breaks out of her trance and asks you to sit back down, but you refuse.

There’s no point. It’s over a done deal. There’s no fixing this relationship.

“I hate you” Is the last thing you say before walking out of that office.

Once in your car, you find yourself holding in sobs.

You cried enough, no more.

[ledalasombra]

The Granddaughter

Chapter 1 - Reunion

The motorcycle cut through the city traffic passing through different scenarios from the fashion district to the noblest region, stopping in front of the big gates of the Wayne mansion. She rang the intercom looking at the mansion in front of her through the gate.

“How can I help you?” She was slightly startled by the sound of the intercom that didn't take long to be answered.

“Ahn... I'm here to see Alfred Pennyworth? Sorry, this was a little awkward” She took a deep breath, removing her helmet “My name is Marinette Pe… Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I am here to talk to Alfred Pennyworth.”

Marinette can hear the sound of something breaking on the other end of the line, frowning “Monsier, is everything alright?

“Marinette? When did you arrive in Gotham?” There was a pause and she sighed lightly “Enter and follow until a little after the main entrance. There is a place where you can stop the bike. I'll meet you there.”

“I'm on my way...”  she replied, giving a slight smile, knowing that she managed the feat of surprising him. She replaced the helmet quickly, redirecting the bike to the indicated place, looking with great admiration at the whole place. The front gardens and the mansion building were beautiful. She removed her helmet after getting off the bike, attaching it to the bike and grabbing her purse afterward.

“Grandpa!” She said, hugging him next with a wide smile on her face and her eyes full of tears “it's so good to finally be able to see you!”

Alfred smiled as he hugged the young woman in front of him. She was so much like her mother Julia that he felt as if he had been given a new lease on life.

“I didn't know you were coming to Gotham... Sabine and Tom didn't tell me anything. Let's go inside, I'll make us both some tea, and in the meantime we'll talk and I'll finish up dinner.”

“ Can I help you?” she smiled while holding his arm “ This place is amazing grandpa! So much to be inspired by... The architecture, the details and that garden! Wow, that place is beautiful!” She spoke with eyes shining like a child, as they walked through the halls of the mansion.

Alfred gave a slight smile at the enthusiasm of the granddaughter he hadn't seen in almost a year. And despite the long time without seeing each other, the bond between them was strong. They constantly spoke through voice and video calls, she sent constant photos about everything that happened in her life and Alfred was happy about that. Everything he lacked with Julia, all the closeness and trust he would have liked with his late daughter, he gained with his granddaughter. Not even the distance allowed them to be separated or absent from each other's lives. Though only Bruce knew of her existence, they shared a unique family bond. He would have liked to be physically present in Marinette's life, but he knew it wasn't fair to make a 4-year-old child live in the chaos that was Gotham, the chaos that was the Wayne family.

When they reached the kitchen, Alfred indicated a chair for her to sit on, immediately putting the water on to heat, then bringing all the material to prepare tea for both of them.

“And then, mademoiselle, to what do I owe the honor of your visit? Why didn't you say you were coming to Gotham? I would have picked you up at the airport” he asked sitting down opposite her, she immediately took his hand. Alfred smiled at the gesture, knowing how much she liked and asked for physical contact.

"If I had, it wouldn't have been a surprise." her smile fell quickly, becoming slightly anxious “shouldn't I have come? Oh, I'm interfering with your work, aren't I? Oh my god I should have warned you and not just knocked on your employer's door...”

“It's okay my dear, I'm sure Master Bruce won't mind. He will certainly want to meet you” she said patting her hand lightly, seeing her expression calm down.

“I came to see how you were doing and to give you the news that I've moved on to the University of Gotham” she said extremely excited about the matter “and I start classes next month! I arrived in the city two days ago and it's been so busy. Everything is so different around here...”

“I thought you liked living with Sabine and Tom? I thought you were going to do Esmond, as you commented several times…”

"Paris has been my home for years, but I can't stay there after everything that's happened... With the whole Hawkmorth affair and I don't have that many friends to lock me up there..." Marinette looked at her grandfather with sad and tired eyes, taking a deep breath. She had already told him everything she could and what had happened to her from the beginning. Alfred was her only blood family, all she had that was related to her mother. For years, even apart, she formed a relationship of trust and friendship with her grandfather, telling him practically everything. She trusted him as much as she trusted Tikki and hoped that one day she would be able to open up to him the only part of her life he wasn't yet aware of.

The young woman took a deep breath, hearing the noise coming from the kettle and getting up “let me prepare it. I brought an herbal preparation that my old Mandarin teacher taught me. I know you don't like just any tea, but for some reason whenever Master Fu made it for me I was reminded of you.” she said as she walked over to the stove, bringing the kettle over to the table, failing to notice how her grandfather made her back stiff and tense with the comment.

Alfred watched his granddaughter take a can from inside her bag, opening it carefully, giving a slight sad smile with the memory that came through the aroma of tea. She put a little of the mixture on the porcelain, adding the water next, looking at the clock so that she wouldn't waste the preparation time. He was intrigued by the name quoted by his granddaughter. It couldn't just be coincidence, but he saved that information for now.

“And what happened to him?” he asked seeing her give a sad smile.

“He passed away in London together with his wife 2 years ago. I visited them from time to time, they were quite old.” she sighed looking at the clock again. “According to him, the secret of a well-made tea is not only the herbs used, but also the time for it not to become bitter and, above all, the energy we put into it when we prepare it. He helped me a lot when Hawkmorth came along, especially with my anxiety attacks. He helped me with some self-defense classes as well. In return I helped him with the massage shop schedule and some shopping.”

Alfred drank some of his tea and smiled. It tasted great and took him back to a past he hadn't told anyone about. He looked at the can that was on the table, smelling the herbs, realizing in his memory the same preparation he hadn't seen since his youth. He took a deep breath looking at his granddaughter weighing what he should say or not, taking her hand he saw her eyes go towards him.

“When I was in the war many years ago, before I met your grandmother Marie, I met a man named Wang Fu.” He paused, watching his granddaughter hold her breath, “he made that same tea and said that, like everything else in life, nature requires balance. For a good tea, we need good leaves, which require time and patience, the latter being a virtue. I confess that this was a quality I lacked at the time” he smiled slightly at the memory “We met a few times, until one day he found me seriously injured. He took care of me for 3 days until I was able to recover.” she paused, adjusting her posture, “Fu was a rather peculiar man, you might say. He followed the war from afar, although he tried not to intervene. In those three days that we were together, I met his fiancée, Marianne. She was part of the French resistance, just like her grandmother.” He paused with a sad look on his face, patting his granddaughter's hand lightly, "He gave me a second chance, which completely changed the course of the war."

Marinette took a quick breath at the two words spoken by Alfred and he couldn't help but show his surprise when he heard what her granddaughter mumbled. “Sass?” she spoke Kwami's name almost instinctively, bringing her hand to her mouth right after. She saw Alfred smile slightly, placing her hand between his two.

“Certainly he was very agreeable company for several months, until the war was over. Wang Fu said it was too dangerous to remain where he was and left a few days later with our mutual friend.” he smiled slightly patting the hand he was holding “We kept in touch after many years. It was Fu who told me about the existence of his mother, Julia, who until that moment was unknown to me. He was a great friend and is an irreparable loss.” Alfred make a pause, looking Marinette in the eyes “But what intrigues me at the moment my dear is how you met him and know that name.” he said letting go of her hand, hearing a faint alarm coming from the direction of the oven. He got up then to check on dinner.

Marinette was speechless upon hearing her grandfather's story. She held her teacup in both hands, trying to center herself and think of what to say. At least that explains the protective aura coming from Alfred that she always felt when she was with him. She takes a sip from her tea, and close her eyes quickly, sucking in air and concentrating. When she opened it she could see Sass's aura around her grandfather, letting a tear flow. Alfred, like Luka, was one of the true holders of Sass, which explained so much on her mind. She got up going to the island in the middle of the kitchen and pulling the bench to sit down, seeing the door open then, turning her attention to the person who entered.

"Alfred, I'm going to need..." Bruce stopped talking as soon as he saw that Alfred wasn't alone. He adjusted his posture giving his charismatic smile, watching the young woman who was sitting, apparently talking to the butler. "I didn't know I was interrupting, sorry Alfred."

Alfred finished removing the dinner that was almost complete from the oven, seeing the door open and hearing Bruce come in, he sighed deeply, shaking his head, and approaching his granddaughter, putting his hand on her shoulder.

“Master Bruce, let me introduce you to my granddaughter Marinette Pennyworth Dupain-Cheng. Mari, this is Bruce Wayne. Every male in our family has worked here at some point.”

Bruce flashed a wide smile that Marinette found forced, but ignored in favor of Alfred. However, what bothered her was the aura that emanated from him. She closed her eyes briefly, taking his hand towards the man in front of him, giving a slight smile.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Mr Wayne. My grandfather spoke a few times about you.” she said squeezing his hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Alfred told me about you, although he is very secretive about his own family.” Bruce responded with great enthusiasm, which made Marinette tilt her head slightly and Bruce slightly raise his eyebrow.

"Marinette, please behave yourself..." Alfred caught her attention with a slightly raised eyebrow, looking at her and then at Bruce. His granddaughter just sighed, looking at him.

“I'll ignore it this time. I have to go, I have dinner with Uncle Jagged tonight and if I don't make it on time, I'm sure I'll get several calls from him coming to the restaurant.” She saw Alfred nod, realizing he recognized the name from conversations they'd had earlier. She went to the table, picking up her bag and stopping again in front of Bruce who looked at her intrigued. “It was a pleasure to finally meet you. I hope we can talk more properly next time” She gave a slight smile and turned her attention to Alfred. “I need to use the restroom before I go.”

“As soon as you leave the kitchen, it's the second door on the left.” He watched her leave, turning his attention back to Bruce, “Master Bruce, I'm going to ask you two important things: the first is that you be original with her, Marinette can see right through all this media act. Second and most important, my granddaughter has had some very difficult things in her life and I would like you to make a big effort not to start an investigation into her life. She is a strong and very sensitive person, you will realize that over time...”