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#through their multiple fictional works
seven-saffodils · 2 years
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nehswritesstuffs · 11 months
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With All the Lessons I Did Not Learn, I Found Some Good Ones in the End
As I get older there are times when characters in this series sort of snap into place for me. Sometimes it’s a “damn it he’s actually kinda hot” factor, but other times it’s characterization bits and real-world parallels and other such things. This is something that snapped into place recently, as I muse on Smoker’s backstory while being the same age he was when introduced in Logue Town. Why? Because Oda-sensei took the near-universal truth of bad shit happening when you’re a tween and went in harder than anyone realized, even him. That tween/middle school age is rough because you don’t know what’s going on with anything from the world at large to your own body and depending on what the bad shit is and how it’s dealt with can really fuck someone right up.
4586 words; taken some real-world inspiration not from any one person, but from tales involving other people who were twelve years old around the same time I was and the knowledge of what my own life could have become; my tenses are all over the place but that’s on purpose so be warned if that’s something that gets to you; I fully expect the end of this to be nullified within ten chapters of me posting this (I'm currently waiting on ch. 1098, for reference) but that’s the life of a fanfiction-ka for you; spoilers from Logue Town through Egghead so make of that what you will
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is twelve when he watches the Pirate King’s execution.
It’s a sordid affair, watching a man die on a platform for all to see. His mother didn’t want him to go, but he skipped classes just because it felt like the right thing to do. He had to watch it—this was history—and so he made his way down to the town square that day, hoping the rain would ease up enough so they would not cancel the proceedings.
The entire square was packed, more than the boy had ever seen it, even worse than festivals. He was one of the youngest people he saw out of the entire crowd, which made something in the back of his head start ticking. What it was for, he did not know, but he was very much aware that something stirred in him that day that would change him forever. He felt it in the air, tasted it on the tip of his tongue, and shivered as he watched the sea of adults around him react so viscerally to this criminal’s execution that he found his classmates to be more orderly. The only reason he’s not crushed in the stampede that follows after the Pirate King’s last words was the fact he could shimmy a lightpost and climb onto the awning of a shop. He has an excellent view of the chaos that unfolds… of the things his mother didn’t want him to see.
These grown adults—pirates and civilians and Marines alike—so many of them were crying? They were not tears of happiness, glad that Justice had been carried out, but tears of sorrow, of fear, of uncertainty and pain. He did not understand it; could not understand it. Hadn’t the Pirate King done a lot of bad? Wasn’t he the symbol of evil and chaos in the world? Why would the Marines execute him otherwise?
Justice was good. Pirates were bad. It seemed pretty simple, really. Even a kid like him could understand that.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is fifteen when he joins the Navy.
The past three years had been kind to him physically. It seemed like the week after the Great Pirate Era began so did his first teenaged growth spurt. He’s tall now, and broad in the chest and shoulders, and easily passes their physical exams. They stick him in a training squadron with a bunch of other teenagers they don’t know what to do with. Some have volunteered, some are there because there’s nowhere else for them to go, most are too young and some are even younger than that; they’re a fairly pathetic lot overall.
They learn why they’re there: to combat the rise in piracy throughout the seas. All pirates are bad—there is no room for nuance. Justice is good. Pirates are bad. Marines are Justice. The law is what must be upheld; the natural order of things that has been established for generations. Safety, order, rules, respect. There was no way pirates could be good; look at the mess they caused. There was too much chaos, too much loss of property and life, to justify their continued existence. They must be stopped. There is no other choice but to eliminate them and those who inherit their spirit—their ideals—their dreams—because nothing good will come of letting loose ends run free.
A Marine in the North snaps and goes rogue, taking his entire crew with him. He learns the Marine took his own son as a hostage in order to get away. The kid was only twelve—the same age he was when he realized what it was he wanted to do with his life. Had he wanted to become a Marine one day too? Was his chance now ruined because of being pressganged into a life of piracy? Did he inherit those sins, simply because he had no choice? Why didn’t he just run away? Would he end up a pirate as well? No one really had answers.
People don’t get branded pirates for no reason, and pirates were enemies of the Government; of Law and Order; of Justice; of Peace. Nothing good would come from them.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is nineteen when he kills for the first time.
The battlefield is a sickening thing, wet and muddy despite the lack of clouds in the sky. He doesn’t like the feeling of standing there while waiting for the command to charge forwards. It’s concerning, watching the snipers catch enemy footsoldiers from such a distance, watching in real-time as people jerk and twitch before they fall. Finally, the command is given, and he grips his rifle tightly as he runs towards the fray. His cigar falls to the ground as he bellows a war cry with the others, the habit too new for him to think of its consequences.
He only has so many bullets, so he first lands a hit with his bayonet. The pirate in front of him—a contemptible woman who he knows has a bounty—curses him as she goes down with a gut wound. He can see her eyes grow dim and her body fall slack as he stands there, the battle still raging, unable to fully process the goosepimples on his arms and the churning of his gut. She could have avoided this, he thinks, if she had only followed the law… if she had not turned pirate…
It’s not an experience he recommends.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is twenty-two when he eats his Devil Fruit.
It was not on purpose, mind, as few things in life are, but he uses it to his advantage. He develops new ways for himself to fight, as his new abilities are wonderful offensive wildcards. Logias are powerful, he finds out, as he nearly suffocates a sparring opponent just by dissolving into his elemental component.
Okay, so smoke is not an “element” per say, but it still opens up a whole world to him he never thought possible. He gets a promotion, he earns accolades, he begins to butt heads with people who want to mold him into something more than he wants. His rose-haired colleague—two years younger and gifted her Fruit in a secret ceremony lacking pomp but not without ceremony—bails him out countless times while scolding him on his conduct all the while.
How had he been there for seven years and not learned how to move how he wanted without damaging the system? Without risking reprimand? He needed to learn, apparently, because there was only so long she could keep covering for him.
Naturally, he was given lenience. Between his years of service, his colleague’s interference, his Devil Fruit, and his firm views on Justice, he was granted clemency more often than he frankly deserved. Many of his exploits involved butting heads with his superiors, sure, but they would also involve some tussling with pirates and filling the prisons with more than a few bountied heads. He studies and trains hard for rank exams, throwing around his weight where and when he can. Things others would get a dishonorable discharge for he is given proud backslaps and cajoling encouragement. He sails higher than he should, quicker than is right, easier than the work he puts in warrants, but he ignores all that since it gets him closer to his goal.
The Northern kid who had been taken hostage by his pirate father enlists, the lone survivor of a massacre on a barren spit of land in the middle of frozen nothingness. There is a fire in his eyes and zeal in his step and words of disdain upon his lips for the man who abused him for years and treated him with contempt. It was wonderful to see as the kid changed how he spelled his name and refused to eschew Justice ever again. He takes the kid under his wing and is proud as he watches him soar.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is twenty-seven when his hard work is finally rewarded and he gets transferred back to his hometown.
For the record, everyone thinks he’s insane. Getting a transfer to Logue Town is like being put in charge of the world’s most vile nursery. The East Blue is the calmest of the Cardinal Blues, and yet it still produced the scum that he was dedicating his life to eliminating.
The Captain there is old and comfortable, used to doing things in a way that predated the Great Pirate Era. Don’t change what wasn’t broken—there was discretion to be used that he hadn’t been taught yet, that the higher-ups and Marineford brass were hesitant to teach because it did not align with the direction they wanted to pursue. It was not corruption on the most technical level, but it was still concerning. There was an equilibrium in his eyes, a way for good pirates to police the bad, and it was to be used to their advantage.
Except, there were no good pirates, that much was true. None of them could be trusted, let alone with the concept of self-governance. That’s what they told him… what he believed and was tested on. How could pirates and their sympathizers benefit a community? He couldn’t understand it. Whispers get passed around of a clandestine execution of the creature that built the Pirate King’s ship… a tool he could have not reached his infamy without. A reportedly talented and respected shipwright reduced to nothing but a portion of a footnote if he was lucky, all because he thought it acceptable to do business with a pirate… that he thought pirates did not threaten his community. Why deal with pirates if doing so risked a trip to Enies Lobby? The law was not that difficult to follow.
Nothing good came from dealing with pirates. They were all scum. Everyone who willingly dealt with them were also scum. It made things difficult to work when there were procedures in place that gave some even the most basic benefits. He hates it, hates them, hates his superior officer for turning a blind eye when there was so much that could be done. Maybe his officer is corrupt after all, taking bribes where no one else can see… many of his subordinates certainly are.
Any potential charges he can bring aren’t as water-tight as he needs them to be, so he lets it go. Or tries to. It festers and grows in a way he doesn’t like. Justice is not being carried out. This was not what he signed up for.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is thirty when he is given the rank of Captain, putting him in charge of all of Logue Town.
The former Captain retires in a ceremony that brings over vice admirals and local nobility and elected officials and other such stuffy dignitaries. Platitudes were made to commend his service, for working towards peace, for bringing the Government in Mary Geoise closer to their goals. It was a long and fruitful career of building bridges and fostering relationships. There are even some “local business leaders” there to send the old Marine off, an unspoken understanding that they were not to be asked their particular field as long as they did not tell.
As the old man takes off the mantle, he immediately dons it. He reaffirms his oath in front of the crowd, assuring that he will protect his childhood home from the threat of piracy… from the things that have only brought it pain and suffering.
He refuses to mention the Pirate King. This is no longer a town influenced by the ghost of a man long-dead. It is now instead a town of law and order. Justice was destined to prevail.
Things change almost immediately. His troops learn how to spot a pirate, from how they dress to act, and begin to haul more people in for questioning. They begin to root out pirates and gang leaders from behind their fronts and send warnings to places where they might have fled. The old ways are gone, because they still allowed pirates and all those who skirted Justice to run free. Law and order are now what reigns. It has to. He needs to clean up the town, make it safe again, clean away any infamy it gained while being the Pirate King’s birthplace. It is better than that.
He wants families to be proud of their homes again, to feel safe letting their kids out to play. It’s hard work, but work that he needs to get done. Someone had to do it, and that someone was going to need to be him.
Don’t be soft and let liars through. Keep a sharp eye out. They’re waiting for you to slip. Have to be perfect. No room for nuance. That ache, that tiredness, that weary feeling shall pass one day. The laws are the laws. Don’t let the horrors get to you.
Don’t let the horrors of what you do get inside your brain and fester.
Be the strength you have been called to be.
He needs to be strength. He needs to be power. He needs to be Justice.
Only Justice will set them free.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is thirty-two when he can finally say he has cleaned up the town, finally bringing law and order to the streets again.
Some kid is assigned as his direct subordinate—nineteen and full of ideals and optimism. She lacks the time he’d spent in the Navy by her age, which is both her best and most irritating quality. The toughness he had to build wasn’t present, instead replaced by an acceptance of the world around her. She was born not long after the Pirate King’s execution and the only life she knew was one dominated by pirates. He uneasily tries to explain to her how this world… this life… it was never normal. There is nothing normal about drills meant for a pirate attack and the constant danger and fear she was numbly accustomed towards. Life used to be safe, relatively speaking, and he privately mourned for the way she was denied what he had taken for granted.
The generations before them might have failed her, but he wanted to make sure they worked hard to bring forth a better world for the ones that came after.
A world free of pirates. A world free of terror. A world where only the good could live. They owed it to those who were coming up. The tangle of bureaucracy could only handle so much, after all, and it was up to them to do what they could. Even as a Captain he gets dismissive letters from Marineford, telling him he’s too young to know, to green, too inexperienced to be able to give input on how to combat piratical threats abroad. He only did it on his own, without their help, and better than anyone had before.
There is only so much that bureaucracy will allow, so the solution is to do what needs to be done regardless. It is why the Northern kid, the one he kept in correspondence with all these years, repeated his father’s sins and went rogue. Turned pirate. There had been no signs of it—showing Marineford brass his letters proved as much—and his sense of betrayal ran deep. Hadn’t they been after the same goal? The officer who read through the letters simply handed them back with a understanding expression and a sigh on their lips.
Treachery is part of a pirate’s very existence, they explained, and the traitor had fooled everyone. He wasn’t to take it too personally, but was also advised to never contact him again. Agreeing with that hurt. Fuck… it hurt…
No pirate was going through his jurisdiction without being brought to Justice.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is thirty-four when everything changes.
A kid half his age with a rubber body and a fucking death wish climbs up to the top of the execution platform in the square and declares he’s going to be the next Pirate King. Another pirate almost executes him on the spot, which honestly would have saved him a lot of trouble. It’s the kind of shit that the town hasn’t seen in years, where the people who are used to their newfound peace and quiet all stop and stare and wonder how insane these people truly are. Did they not know his stance on crime? On piracy? On anything? He learns that the kid somehow has the highest bounty in the East, despite sharing a family name with one of the biggest Naval legends still enlisted.
The kid gets a second chance thanks to a man in a cloak blocking the finishing blow just in time. Justice was mocked and the kid got clear away, heading towards the Grand Line where he could disappear.
Unacceptable.
It was time to go on the hunt.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is still thirty-four when he watches the system prop itself up to pretend that cracks are not there.
For once, a promotion makes him sick to his stomach, making him think back to the first person he killed, back to the heat and mud and piss of battle. He had never deserved one less, which was frankly an understatement, as chasing down the boy who slipped through his tendrils at Logue Town brought him to another war, another battlefield, and this one was the worst he’d ever seen. A civil war in a desert spurred by a Government-sanctioned Warlord, artificial strife created to divide and destabilize and create the perfect vacuum for ascending to power. The man had a hold over the country and still wanted more—wanted to take down the ruling class and permanently replace them with him and him alone.
It didn’t work.
Why?
Pirates were there.
He had entered the pact to mutually save the lot of them from drowning as a pragmatic move, one he surely expected to reap the benefits of once he was able to track them down again after the dust settled. With more knowledge of their operations, abilities, and command chain, he could find them faster, bring them to Justice quicker. Except, when he gave his superiors in Marineford his reports, all they did was congratulate him on quelling the insurgency despite the fact he did jack fucking shit in the grand scheme of things.
It was the pirates he saved—the ones who saved him—who helped the correct powers shift back into place. He tried to refuse the honors and his refusal was refused. It took both his subordinate and his colleague to talk him down long enough to contain his anger and rage.
Why did pirates save Alabasta?
Why did they call the princess their friend?
Why did a Founding Family align themselves with the very people whose existence threatened their safety and power?
Why did pirates do good?
Why did the Government want to cover it up?
Why did the Government think he was a good scapegoat? If scapegoats could be one for praise instead of scorn?
Why did none of it feel right?
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is thirty-five when he takes over at G-5.
If they thought he was insane for requesting the transfer to Logue Town, then they think he’s absolutely lost it by going to G-5. His record in Logue Town precedes him, however, and he is given the position without question in hopes he can whip the outfit into shape. Who better to lead a bunch of men who couldn’t be discharged on technicalities except for another man who couldn’t be discharged due to a bunch of pesky technicalities? The powers that were figured the two forces would implode on one another and then cease to be their problem, so why not?
It’s different, however, from taking control of Logue Town. Now he is the hesitant one, though he does his best to not show it. His subordinate knows—seas how she knows—and she follows him, the pair moving along as a sort of unit. No one wants to approach him and no one wants to deal with her; it’s mutually supportive as anything. They pass one another looks in secret, knowing ones that betray their thoughts.
How can these Marines be worse than pirates? Why and how are they still enlisted? Do people… do the people he has sworn to protect see him like this? See his subordinate like this? His subordinate, who might as well be a child with how much he wants to protect her? At what point is a Marine no longer working for a code of Justice and simply doing whatever they want? How many Marines are out there who use their position to… simply…?
A chance encounter with his former comrade ends with a bitten arm and a bruised ego; he did not understand the look in the lizard’s eye as it croaked lowly at him.
He sleeps less, works out more, panics in the middle of the night. It gets to him, but he doesn’t let the men know and passes it off as his usual routine from before they knew him. His subordinate knows, but their rooms share a wall. Can’t appear soft; don’t let the horrors seep in and fester until there’s nothing left but indecision and an eroded will. A young hotshot—so young he’s still a child—wait, he had been younger than that when he’d enlisted—picked up by the old legend senses it and looks at him pityingly.
Sometimes there are good pirates, sometimes there are bad Marines, but that doesn’t change things, does it?
Sometimes, when he blinks, he almost thinks he can see.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He is thirty-six when he runs into the pirates again.
A few more ranks had been hefted on his shoulders and there’s a few more of them than before, including the desert Warlord’s right-hand, and he watches them form an alliance with the Government’s greenly-minted piratical lapdog. They antagonize one another, because of course they fucking do, and the new Warlord might as well be one shishishishi away from throwing a tantrum, a sentiment for which he honestly doesn’t blame him. The boy with the rubber body is stronger than when they last met in the desert, sure, but he was still disturbingly noodle-like and cheerful.
It was annoying as shit.
This time, the pirates help again, with his men from G-5 caught in a trap alongside the pirates and innocent victims. Instead of an entire nation tricked into culpability, however, it’s an entire herd of small children turned giant, the insane fuck that holed up in the former scientific research base performing illegal experiments of varying sorts on the kids.
Children.
His subordinate was beyond pissed; this was the generation they worked so hard to not fail, and yet, they still did anyhow. Literal babies and they were still in danger. How effective was their Justice if things like this were still able to happen? What else had slipped through the cracks? Had there been some they were too late to save? Why did the colleague that was there allow such a cruel thing to happen? How much of this did their other colleagues and superiors know about? Was this… common…?
How much of this had he missed because he was concentrating on doling out Justice? How much was he missing purely because he was being distracted?
The children cry the entire way to G-14. They missed the kind pirates, the ones who helped and freed them from the scary gas-man. The crew is abnormally quiet and reserved while not with their guests, clearly contemplating some of the same stuff he was—the actions of the pirates in saving not only the children, but them as well. Weren’t they enemies? But their cook fed them good food. Aren’t pirates bad? They purged all the addictive poison from the children’s bodies. Aren’t Marines the good guys? Then why had a vice-admiral been there, making sure that hellhole was running smoothly?
It was an uncomfortable situation none of them wished to broach.
Luckily, G-14 is closer than they feared and the children are all offloaded swiftly and safely. His wounds are tended to and the kids are all greeted by an eccentric old man brandishing medicine. No one knows if the concoction can reverse what had already been done, but it would at least prevent further complications. He is finally able to relax for half a moment until there’s a knock on the door and a kid he vaguely recognized came in, kukri left behind in some other room due to being on a peace mission.
That is when he learns about SWORD and all the things it stood for.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It’s not long afterwards he gets the call to Egghead.
He doesn’t like it, but he goes anyhow. The pirates are there—the ones who caused him to leave his precious hometown—and they have the world’s most brilliant mind. It’s clear they plan on running and taking him with them, and not as a hostage. Special ops are there yet ineffective. Weapons designed to be the ultimate warmongers are useless. An admiral is useless as the rubber boy turns into a literal god. An Elder Star is there, one of the highest-most Celestials, and is ready to snuff out the boy and his friends…
…this was not Justice…
…and that is when he does the stupidest thing he had done in his life since skipping school to watch a man die: the right thing.
Within seconds, he dissolves into a cloud and spreads himself over the battlefield. He can feel everything that happens within his auspices, bringing the pirates and their friends closer together so they can run. Somewhere in the distance he hears something boot up, like a rocket of some sort. Everything is chaos for a moment as those talented in Haki attempt to negate his Devil Fruit. They can’t because his is stronger, more determined, and certainly weightier.
He might not know what Justice is anymore, but he does know that Marines are not good, pirates are not bad, and sometimes things aren’t as plain as expected.
The pirates leave as their ships is carried by an ancient robot. His vision swims as he lays on his back, beaten and bloody, aching and rattled, looking up at the Elder Star about to stab him through the heart.
It was likely not enough, but it was something. It made up for nothing, yet it was all he could give. It would not heal what he had already done, despite the fact it was what should have been all along. It helped so few, and it still showed the others that change was possible.
He now knew why they had cried, back in his hometown on the day her most famous son was executed. The sorrow, the fear, the uncertainty, the pain… it wasn’t about the pirates… it never had been about the pirates. He became why they shed tears, which was the opposite of protecting them, thanks to the lie that stirred and settled into his heart that day. The first pirate he ever brought to Justice—the first person he murdered—came back to him, her spiteful sneer now understandable. His former Captain’s lessons were now all clearly wise and more insightful than he ever gave them credit for, let alone deserved.
The only good part, he thinks, is that his subordinate is not there to hear a freshly-branded traitor scream.
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Uh-oh. This is bad
#For some reason I always end up predicting my life events through the fiction I write or read with scary accuracy#especially if everything I’m writing/consuming “feels right” and like I’m being pulled into it#I was just pulled into The Metamorphosis and woke up in the middle of the night to finish reading it#I think I know who that book applies to#And now this book… hm#Don’t like that#unreality#magical thinking#tagging as that just in case but it’s happened before multiple times#They’re not necessarily actual premonitions; they’re me subconsciously piecing together a puzzle of clues#that all lead to me figuring out the most likely series of events to follow#Maybe I’ve heard in-depth information about these books before; but only remember it in the back of my mind#so that the front of my mind cannot recall; and have only been guided by what I’ve heard whispered back there#a subconscious switch gets thrown at the critical point and I’m drawn to it#I knew what happened and what was going to happen in 2018 back in 2017 from my sketchbooks and story outlines#I read Crime and Punishment and like clockwork events very similar to what had happened in the book started happening to me#It worked backwards for awhile from 2019–2021 after I got caught#Every time I happened to glance at a clock; there was either a 4 or a 20 or a 24 on the display. Always. No exceptions.#This went on for months. Those numbers were part of a spell I wrote and recited over and over again; I won’t say the words#because I’m not sure if it’s so much a spell as it is a curse — it is a self-deprecating spell#I only started seeing this number pattern AFTER I had been caught as an apostate; not before#before I’d look at the clock and it would say 5:33 or 9:15 or 12:45; after it was 4:04 or 2:24 or 12:20 ON THE DOT#Call me crazy but if every time you looked at a clock for MONTHS it always read a specific set of numbers you’d go a little nutty too#THEN in 2021 I read 1984 and it described my life up until that point PERFECTLY (WITH the number 4 plastered all over it)#Something happened back then and it’s still fucking happening because I was caught at the end of 2019#Just a little over four years away from the year 2024 and I was driven to set my exit date at 4/24/2024 before reading 1984#1984 is set in April 4 1984; April 4 is 20 days away from 4/24… SEE WHAT I MEAN?! I’m a raving lunatic but I’m right
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gojonanami · 4 months
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❝ 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 !! ❞
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❝ PROF. GETO IS SO HOT AND NOW HE’S YOUR THESIS ADVISOR !! ❞
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✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (yuta x f!reader) (part six of the prof geto series)
✧ summary: just when you had moved on, suguru is back in your life as your thesis advisor, and what choice do you have but to deal -- deal with lingering feelings from your breakup, but also yuta's. and through this, you both find out what you all owe to each other.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, but also angst depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student, but age is vague, post breakup, dealing with exes, insecurity, semi-exhibitionism, desk sex, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, multiple orgasms, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, fanart by @ / kyrraen (pls go follow them, they are so talented)
✧ w/c: 25,305 | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five
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Suguru never had believed in fate before — before he met you. 
And now it seemed fate had its own plans for the both of you — pulling you together, even when he had tried his best to push the two of you apart. Try he had, and in the end, you both ended up back where you had started — seated across from each other with a pile of papers littered with red pen. 
Except now he himself had found himself littered with you — your tie pin you had given him, the way his fingers wanted to smooth your brow with a kiss as it furrowed while you flipped through your proposal, and how his heart felt whole from the moment you walked in the room. And he knew he would be littered with your marks all his life, more permanent than ink — and he would never be able rid himself of them. 
Or of you. 
When Yaga had come to him with the news, it was already too much to handle. He was being re-assigned to Tokyo to handle duties for both schools for a time — until someone stepped up to handle Kyoto. Yaga didn’t trust anyone else — and since Suguru had worked at Tokyo longer, it made sense to have him go back. 
But then the question of you — the reminder came on the form of your email during their meeting — and you came into his world again the same way you did before — an email for a meeting. But it wasn’t for him. 
Not yet at least. 
It was hard to know what to do, or what you would want. Yaga could have you re-assigned, but the thesis you were working on was in Suguru’s specialty and he knew half the reason you had asked Yaga was to have a department head listed on your thesis. And to rob you of that wasn’t a choice he wanted to make for you. 
He’s done enough of that to you. And he had done it for your future — and he would do this for your future, if you wanted him to. 
You’re speechless when he breaks the news to you — as he expected you would be. But his surprise comes when you reply — he expected anger, frustration, a straight out refusal to work with him — but he did not get any of those — he only got quiet acceptance. 
“Fine, should we stick to the same schedule that Yaga and I agreed to?” And Suguru takes a minute, leaning back in his chair, “what?” 
“I just…I didn’t expect you to accept so readily,” he replies softly, choosing his words carefully, “in my email, I said you could take time to think about it or we could procure a different advisor—“ 
“Professor,” the word sticks in his chest like a right dagger that barely misses his heart, “out of everyone who works in this department I know you are the only one who is capable of pushing me to be my best, even when I don’t ask for it,” you add under your breath, “especially when I don’t ask for it,” 
A hollow chuckle is stuck in his throat, “If you’re sure, it’s your choice,” and he’s looking for a few notes and edits he had written out for you for the schedule you sent along previously. 
“It is my choice,” you echo, your eyes meet his, as he looks up from the papers strewn about the desk, “and I choose this,” and he knows all too well what you mean by your deliberate choice of words— and he did love you for your cutting tongue. 
Even when it was used against him. 
“If you do, then can you choose to come to my old office?” And you’re blinking, brow furrowing — and his cheeks burn, “I left your schedule there — I had a few notes regarding my own schedule,” 
You raise an eyebrow, a flicker of a smart remark on the tip of your tongue that you seemingly swallow, as you gather the proposal into your bag, “let’s go,”
The walk over is in relative silence, the campus mostly quiet with the impending end of the semester at bay — as he forces his gaze forward, but that doesn’t stop his traitorous eyes from sneaking glances all the same. Why was it that he was a lighthouse and his eyes were spotlights only made to find your ship on the dark waves of the sea. 
And you stop in your tracks, a glance at your face doesn’t give him the answer — but another face does. 
“Yuta?” And he’s holding your lunch bag — the same one you insisted on taking with you, refusing to spend more money on the overpriced lunch on campus. And the realization hits him all at once, and he’s suddenly toppling headfirst into the waves. 
“You forgot your lunch,” Yuta offers an awkward smile — and Suguru’s eyes find your face again, right before he goes under — the same soft look you gave him. 
Used to give him. 
And he lets the water overtake him. 
~~~
“You forgot your lunch,”
And you never thought a rushed morning would lead to the most awkward moment of your life. Yuta glances between you and Suguru, as you step forward to take your lunch from his hand, your fingers intertwining with his, as if to ground yourself. 
“Yuta, this is Professor Geto, he taught one of the classes I took and he’s taking over as my thesis advisor,” and you’re only lucky Suguru is able to tuck away emotions so easily, a polite smile on his lips as he offers his hand to Yuta, “this is Yuta, my boyfriend,” 
You can’t meet Suguru’s gaze as you say it — but you wonder what you would find — hurt, anger, or nothing at all? And you couldn’t figure out which would hurt the most. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” Suguru says, before shaking his hand, and Yuta nods. 
“Likewise,” and Suguru turns to you, hands slipping into his pockets, while yours remained laced with Yuta’s — but how long ago would it had been intertwined in his? “On second thought, I’ll email you my edits to your thesis schedule, I’ll leave you both to the rest of your day,” he gives a stiff smile, before heading on his way. 
And he knew this was a future of his own making — the consequences of his own actions. 
He gives a bitter chuckle. Consequentialism — the morality is centered around creating the right consequences — and wasn’t it right? Right for you to be happy with someone your age? Right to be with someone who you can hold their hand and be with? Right to be with someone who can give you everything and anything you want? 
“I understand the intention of consequentialism, but it just feels so pointless,” you had said while the two of you sat watching TV on the couch, your legs thrown over his lap, the comfortable warmth of your head resting on his shoulder. 
“That’s not where I thought your mind was,” Suguru had chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, but still he indulged, “the point is to get as much good as possible out of a decision correct? The most happiness?” 
Your brow remained furrowed, “But the problem is the cost of it — it can come at the cost of your own happiness if it’s creating the right consequences,” 
“That’s more utilitarianism—“ and you shrug. 
“I understand it’s more complicated, but I don’t see the value in making decisions like that — doesn’t it defeat the purpose because you’re doing it for the outcome — without considering your feelings or the others? You’re nothing more than a happiness pump,” 
And as he sneaks a glance back, watching you and Yuta stand there still, fingers still intertwined, his fingers squeeze the handle of his bag, is that why it feels so wrong? 
He arrived back at his office, fingers turning the knob and finding an empty tomb — the walls stripped down to the bare, a thick layer of dust that clung to the surfaces, the couch he had in the corner of the room likely relocated to another office — that he thought he had finally left behind. But here he was again — right back where he started. 
He dragged his finger through the dust on his desk. Was he nothing more than a happiness pump? Giving himself pain for the sake of others’ happiness — and was the outcome worth it? But he’s swallowing down his pain — a bitter consequence he had to take — because he knew — he would take any pain, if it meant you were happy. 
And you were. 
Right? 
~~~
Yuta knew — he did even before he had started to date you. Or rather, he had suspected. But now he knew.  
The first time he saw the two of you bump into each other, he knew because of the way Geto looked at you — and even the way you looked at him — the hurt flickering in your gaze, even when you refused to look at him. 
Professor Geto has been much more than a professor to you — he was your boyfriend, the same one Yuta had envied for so many months. Only for him to be back in your life again. And he felt like he was right back to where he had started in your life again — a friend. 
And there wasn’t a thing wrong with being your friend — but now that he was more than one, he knew he only wanted even more of you — and to give more of himself. If you would let him. 
But when your fingers curled around his, ‘boyfriend’ slipping from your lips, assuaged his anxiety for a moment, but as he watched your eyes find the back of Geto’s head after he left, it all came back. 
Your fingers squeeze his, “Thank you for bringing my lunch, Yu,” and it brings him back to the moment, and your face is so readable in this moment — as if to make up for the times he couldn’t make sense of you — searching for an indication that he knew, an implication of his emotions, a question unspoken to ask if he knew. 
And he did. 
“Of course, baby,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, and he wants to tell you he does, wants to ask you why you hid it, why you felt you couldn’t be honest, and why you look like you’re still as heartbroken as the day he ran into you outside this building, “I have to go, but I’ll see you later,” but he doesn’t ask. 
“Yuta—“ but he’s only pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, fingers cupping his cheek. 
“I love you,” and your lips curl into a small smile. 
“I love you too,” and it was enough, he thought, as his fingers parted from yours, and he turned to leave. 
It was enough, for now.  
~~~
How do you tell someone something they already know? You snuck glances at your own boyfriend after dinner, as the two of you settled in to watch something to unwind. The day had gone by as expected, but the crawling anxiety only grew as more time passed, the words wanting nothing more than to leave your mouth. 
Why was it you when you had so much to say you couldn’t say it? And now when you had to explain, no words could leave your lips? 
God, how the fuck did you catch yourself in this mess? Your ex as your thesis advisor — was this karma for being unethical? A cruel consequence of the choices you made? Maybe fate? No, it wasn’t fate. Things were better without Suguru in your life, simpler and easier. And you were happy — but now this, this just had the potential to ruin everything. 
But only if you let it. 
And the longer you went without discussing this, the more damage it would be. It was a secret you had chosen to keep — you didn’t think it was pertinent, especially with Suguru in Kyoto. It was a detail you could spare, at least until after you graduated, 
But now it couldn’t wait. 
It was a piano hanging by a string that’s already snapped and it was on its last fibers, swinging back and forth, waiting to see whether you would push Yuta and yourself out of the way — or whether one or both of you would get crushed in the process. 
The walk back to your apartment is an exercise in coping mechanisms to prevent panic or anxiety from settling fully into your skin, holding the string together with your arms seemingly, ready for it to tear you apart. 
But it doesn’t. 
“I have to talk to you,” you say once you and Yuta are sitting on the couch, one leg tucked under the other to prevent you from shaking it, or running away for that matter, “it’s nothing bad — well, I mean it’s not—“ you cut yourself off, shaking your head, “just know I love you, and that hasn’t changed—“ 
And his lips find yours, cutting off your frantic thoughts with a sweet kiss that only leaves you wanting more, but also leaves you with more questions than answers. 
He pulls away, a small smile on his lips, “Breath “ and you sigh, taking a breath, “and I love you too,” your fingers interlace with his, “what is it?” 
But you don’t even know where to begin, except at the point, “You know the ex that broke my heart before we dated?” And he’s nodding, “Professor Geto is—“ 
“Is your ex,” he finishes, and you knew he had figured out, but you hadn’t expected it to come out so matter-of-factly, “I had a feeling and this morning confirmed it,” 
“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “after he moved, I never thought he would move back, much less become my thesis advisor,” you bury your face in your hands, “and I don’t want you to think I was hiding it. It’s just with the relationship being taboo, I didn’t think—“ 
“You were trying to protect yourself and your ex, it’s understandable,” he squeezes your hand, “you couldn’t have expected this to happen,” 
And you’re lifting your gaze to his, “How are you so calm? How are you so…okay?” 
He gives a sigh, “it’s hard, I’m trying to stay rational for you — for us,” you lean against him, “what are you going to do? About your thesis?” 
“I think I’ll have to take Suguru as my advisor. I don’t have much of a choice,” you bite your lip, “I could take another, but no other professor has the same specialization as Yaga, except Geto, and I know he’ll give me good feedback,” 
“But?” You rest your head in your hand. 
“But having to spend that much time with my ex? Having to work on something so important to my career with him? Having to put you through that?” you feel more lost than when you began this conversation, “I don’t know what to do. I already agreed to it, but I think it’s only sinking in,” and you turn to him, “and then there’s you,” 
“What about me?” and you shake your head. 
“How can I put you through watching me spending hours with my ex over the next semester?” And Yuta shakes your head. 
“A decision important to your future shouldn’t just be based on me, it should be about you,” and you purse your lips — another reason why Yuta was so sweet, as you lean against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 
“I don’t deserve you,” he chuckles, running his fingers through your hair, “I’ll keep him as my advisor for now, but if you have a problem, please talk to me okay?” You lean back to look at him, “please?” 
“Of course,” and his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, “and you always deserve me — because I chose you.” You kissed him, his arms curling around you, as you leaned into his touch — the one place that always felt safe. 
And you didn’t know that he just hoped — you’d choose him too. 
~~~
Fuck. How was it you found yourself before Professor Geto’s door yet again? 
Winter break had flown by and now you found yourself back in the office you thought you had left behind not so long ago. Even if it felt like forever. You had spent your time split between working on your thesis, with the edits to your outline that Suguru had provided you, and with Yuta — who was more endlessly understanding than you could have hoped to imagine. And even today, as you headed off to meet Suguru in his office, he had nothing but soothing words for your nerves, sweet kisses, and a promise for a good meal when you got home. 
You hovered before the door of his office — no matter what had happened throughout these months, why did it always feel as if you always ended up here? Pulled against your will into a rotation around him — one that would have you stuck into a constant push and pull — and just when you had let go of his grip, you were pulled back in. And as your fist hovered next to the door, bracing to knock, you weren’t sure if you were ready to fall back in. 
But what you didn’t know as you stood before the door was that the man behind it was more anxious about this meeting than you were. 
~~~
“You’re early,” Suguru glances up from his paperwork, his top of his pen pressed to the seam of his lips, “for once,” 
Suguru himself had nearly been late this morning — ever the hypocrite, he supposed. He could barely sleep the night before, spent catching up on the work piled up for two department heads while the Kyoto campus makes potential temporary candidates jump through hoops. And then there was the other reason, his meeting with you — and all the complicated feelings he didn’t wish to entangle himself in. And yet he always fell deeper into your web, as if he didn’t willingly ensnare himself to begin with. 
He didn’t even know Yaga was sick, but he had seen the change in him. The subtle differences in his demeanor, the bags around his eyes, and the creeping slowness that came with illness. But it still hit like a gut punch to hear it from his mouth, and for him to ask to take over duties for him was a double edged blade of honor and complication. 
Yaga had given him the option to turn it down: to keep managing everything from Kyoto — but he accepted anyway — accepted because he knew that you’d be out of a thesis advisor. And he would be left unable to help from Kyoto with the in person role an advisor played. 
And so he was here. 
When he finally had gotten to lay down, eyes fixed on the familiar ceiling fan again — as he had managed to get his old apartment back by some miracle — and he hates how this place is a husk of itself without you here. But even with you here before him, his eyes snuck at glance at you, it somehow was worse being with you — when he was nothing to you. He could bear to not be your lover, but he couldn’t bear the weight of your hatred, or worse, your indifference. 
You cross your arms, your laptop bag draped on your shoulder, “You’ll never let that go until one of us is dead will you?” 
“That’s assuming we wouldn’t haunt the other,” he replies without missing a beat, as you take a seat across from him, eyes taking in his office. The same set up from before, if not a little less ostentatious and obnoxious — a few missing pictures and awards tucked away, the missing luxury sofa, and the lack of leather bound books lining shelves, instead minimally decorated with a few select titles — including What Do We Owe Each Other, prominently displayed. 
“I have better things to do than haunt you,” you scoff, pulling out your laptop from your bag, “did you forget to finish unpacking?” And he doesn’t offer even a look up at your remark. 
“No, just decided to take a certain person’s advice and try to take a less pretentious approach to my office,” his lips curled in that damnable wry smile of his, “plus not everything has been sent back from Kyoto yet,” and he leans forward, plucking your revised thesis outline from the neat piles lined up on his desk, “but my office decor isn’t why we’re here,” he flips through his notes on your draft, “the outline is in good shape, have you started on your draft?” 
You pull a stapled stack out to slide to him, “I have fleshed out some of my main points and I wanted your thoughts before I dove further,” and he takes it before scanning through it, silent as he peruses the contents. 
His eyes flit up, “You didn’t have to wait for my approval—“ 
“I know, but I value your opinion,” you grumble, eyes averted as you admit it, a graze of your teeth against the bottom of your lip. It draws a small smile from him, hidden away behind his closed fist pressed to his lips, “as my advisor,” you add, and he nods. 
The meeting finished up with much else, as you slide your laptop and things back into your bag. And for the first time your eyes meet his. 
“Have you been sleeping okay?” and he’s blinking a moment, as you continue, “you look tired. You should sleep more instead of working,”
He furrows his brow, “I am slee—“ 
“You have bags under your eyes, Professor,” you roll your eyes, “listen or don’t, but I rather my thesis isn’t re-assigned last minute because you ran yourself into the ground,” you say before turning to leave. 
“I expect your next draft by the beginning of the next week,” and you pause, the click of the knob as you pull the door open. 
“I’ll have it to you by the end of the week.” And you’re gone, door shutting behind you, and he leans back in his chair, a smile that he can’t quite hide on his lips. 
Maybe he wasn’t quite nothing to you after all. 
~~~
“I’m home, baby,” you say, as you walk in, the burden of the day still in the process of sliding off your back as you passed through the threshold of your apartment. You stripped yourself of your cost and your shoes, hanging your bag up, “Yu?” 
You checked your phone with no text or call from him — he said he would be at your place, and that’s when you spot a familiar mop of black hair from the couch. Your lips curl as you round the couch, only to find him fast asleep, his work spread out around him. His first day back seemed as stressful as yours, and yet he hadn’t complained. 
His bags were dark — a product of a bad night’s sleep — a running trend for today seemingly. You ran your fingers through his hair gently, knowing he wouldn’t wake simply by that, but you heard the quiet mumble of words you couldn’t catch. You glanced at the kitchen and found dinner prepped but not made. You smile softly, as you take the throw blanket and gently spread it over him, before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, and then rising to your feet. 
You’re almost done cooking curry when Yuta stirs, the smell of the stewing beef and spices waking him, as he lifts his head, back of his hand rubbing his eye, while he glances at you with the other. 
“Hey sleeping beauty,” your lips curl, doing a bad job of stifling your chuckle at the sight of his black hair askew, “dinner is almost ready,” 
“Dinner? When did you get—“ and he picks up his phone to check the time, a small groan stuck in his throat, “why didn’t you wake me when you got home?” 
“I would have,” you wipe off your hands, as you make your way to the living room, as Yuta swings his legs off the couch, scrubbing a hand down his face, “but you’re so cute when you’re sleeping,” and his cheeks flush an ever so subtle pink — even after this time together, it was so easy to fluster him, “plus, it looked like you needed it,” 
Your hand brushes his cheek, and he’s leaning into your touch, your other hand running fingers through his hair to straighten it out, “I did,” he mumbles, “it was a long day,” 
“Want to talk about it over some rice and curry?” and he bites his lip, before he leans in to press a sweet kiss to you, delighting in the desperate look he gives you when you drag your tongue teasingly against the seam of his lips only to pull away, “don’t pout,” you drag your thumb down his lips, “I’ll kiss you plenty after dinner,” 
“Promise?” And you drag him to his feet and he’s walking to the bathroom as you’re opening cabinets to take plates out, only for his arms to wrap around your middle, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. 
You chuckle, biting back the shiver that runs up your spine at the warmth of his touch, “what’s that for?” 
“Thank you,” he murmurs, meeting your gaze with umbra eyes that has you lost in the only inky black sky you craved. 
“Of course, Yu,” you murmur before his lips find yours again, and you just wished you could live in this moment, as he parted from your lips only to press another kiss to your cheek, but you supposed you could— 
—For now at least. 
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“She’s what?” Maki stares at Yuta as he rubs the back of his head, her words nearly ringing out in the empty conference room, “she’s spending a bunch of time with her ex and you’re ok with it?” 
Yuta has made a mistake — the mistake of being twenty minutes early to this student government meeting only to find Maki here alone, scrolling on her phone. Her eyes flitting up only for her to tilt her head and bark: 
“Oi, what is it now?” And Yuta didn’t know if he liked being so seen by her. 
Especially now that he was being judged for his decisions — or rather, raked over the coals for them. 
Yuta purses his lips, “I’m not exactly okay with it, but I don’t know what to do. She has to work on her project with him — I guess, how could I object?” And how could he? Your omission made sense, you were only trying to protect your reputation— and your ex’s by extension. But it didn’t make it sting any less. 
“Doesn’t she have another choice? Couldn’t she work with someone else?” Maki crosses her arms, eyes narrowed, as if she can detect the holes in his lies by pure reflex, “aren’t you worried she’ll go back to him?” And voices every worry almost if she’s ripped it from his mind itself.
“I am, she does have other choices, but I couldn’t be the one to make her choices for her—“ 
“But you couldn’t tell her how you felt about it?” Maki shakes her head, pinching the bridge of her nose as if this conversation is giving her a headache — or more likely, he’s giving her a headache, “how do you feel?” 
Yuta chews his lip, leaning on his arm on the table, “I don’t know, I understand it’s just a project — it’s something for her future — I don’t want to make things more complicated for us,” he mumbles. 
“You mean for her—and for your relationship,” Maki crosses her arms, tilting her head, “Yuta, if you can’t be honest with her, what’s the point of this relationship?” And people start to file into the room for the meeting, so she hisses in a whisper, “you need to figure out what you want — and how to tell her how you’re feeling because it’s going to eat you alive or drive her into her ex’s arms — either way, you won’t be in this relationship,” 
And on that bleak note, she gets to her feet to corral everyone into their seats, leaving him to simmer in her words. His phone lighting up nearly on cue with a text from you— 
Can’t make the meeting this week, babe — Geto rescheduled my meeting with him this week for now, so I’m headed there 
A hint of irritation pricks at him — it had to be today, during the only time that they had together at school? 
Another message comes through. 
I’ll see you at your place after the meeting - love you 💕
He locks his phone, tucking it away in his pocket — as Maki starts the meeting. 
It was fine — he would see you at home. It didn’t matter — Geto had only these meetings, Yuta had much more of you. It was fine. 
He forced his gaze forward, a gnawing dread in his stomach. Right? 
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“What do you mean it was expected?” 
You were starting to remember the reason why you hated this man so vehemently when you first met him. His nearly smug expression made you want to leap across the desk and strangle him — though you knew the consequences of that action wouldn’t turn out well for you — nor the proximity for that matter, “what I wrote—“ 
“Is what others have written in papers time and time again,” he cuts you off, and you slump back in your chair, as you flip through the red inked comments he had so thoughtfully ripped apart your first few pages — the precise cuts and slashes enough for red ink to look like blood, “your thesis needs to be a unique take—” 
“And now it isn’t unique enough?” you grumble, crossing your arms, as your cheeks burn, “soon you’ll be saying I’m rambling again,” 
“No, I was able to rid you of that habit a while ago,” you glare at him, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips, “I would be concerned if you started to regress,” 
“Well, at least it would only be academically,” the words spit like venom from your mouth without a thought, but the hurt that flickers across his face is one that seemingly has too much thought behind it, “sorry, that was inappropriate,” 
“It’s fine,” the hurt is gone from his expression, as unreadable as it always was, “to get back to our discussion, I know you want this paper to be published by journals, and in order to do that, you need to have a perspective that hasn’t been explored before—at least not fully. Your outline reflects that, but your paper is regurgitating ideas that you’ve read,” he’s handing you a list of papers and books, with some noted passages, “read some of these materials, it might help give you some ideas to rework your paper,” and then he adds, “and you knew I’d say this,” 
You knit your brow together, “What?” 
He leans against his arm propped against the top of his desk, “Why else would you want me to see if you were going in the right direction? You always have an idea what you want to write, of where you want your paper to go — and you never wanted my greenlight for a long time now,” 
You hate how he can still see right through you — you hate how easily he can pinpoint your problem without you uttering a helpful word. Even before, it always felt as if he was the only one who saw you, without you having to explain a single thing. 
“You’re right,” and he hated how right he was, “I wasn’t sure where I was going,” this thesis had been weighing on your mind day and night, pricking at your nerves each time you stared at the blinking cursor of the document, “I still don’t,” 
Suguru murmurs your name softly, his gaze as gentle as it always has been for you, a part of you hoped — only for you, “As I’ve always said, the only reason why I push you is because I know you can do more. This thesis would be outstanding for many scholars, but I know you can do more,” he tilts his head, small smile on his lips, “and I know you still can,” 
“What if I can’t?” The question slips out before you can even think it, and he raises an eyebrow. 
“There is no ‘what if,’ I know you can do it,” and you bite your lip, “i don’t have any doubts,” 
“Not even one?” You reply, an eyebrow quirked. 
“Not when it comes to you,” and he said just what you wanted to hear, but you hated it all the more — because how did he know you so well? How did he know you so well and yet not know to talk to you before breaking your heart? 
But it didn’t matter now. And you couldn’t trudge up these feelings now, or maybe ever. 
“I’ll read these materials and rework it,” and you begin to collect your things all the while, getting to your feet. 
“Good,” and you catch sight of his smile in the reflection of your phone, “it’s what you owe yourself.” 
And your eyes meet his for a moment, so why couldn’t he give you what he owed you before? 
“Thank you, Professor.” 
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“I’m back,” you call out in Yuta’s apartment, tucking your keys away into your bag, as you slip your shoes off and shrugging off your jacket, but you hear nothing in response, “Yuta?” But not a sound — no quiet voices of the TV, the clatter of dishes and utensils in the kitchen, and no sign of him in the bedroom either. 
You check your phone, as you sit on the edge of the bed, creaking under your weight, and you see his text: sorry baby, Maki took the group out for dinner after, you’re free to join us. And the address is sent underneath. 
But the text was well over twenty minutes ago, and it would take you longer to get there — which meant dinner would nearly be over. You laid back on his bed on your side, typing a reply. 
Sorry Yu, just saw this :(. I’ll come next time. I’ll make something up fast and probably lie down. I’ll see you at home. 
You curl up on the bed, placing your phone down with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut. Your nose turned into his sheets, Yuta’s scent flooding your senses, and you could nearly feel his arms around you. Almost. 
God, you missed him — especially you two just kept missing each other like this — and it made it all the more important you stayed awake. 
Your eyes flutter open, the sweet siren of sleep growing all the more tempting, a late lunch sitting like stones in your stomach and the need for the sandman’s relief growing headier. 
And before you knew it, your legs were tucked under the comforter and your eyes succumbed to their own weight. 
Your soft breaths filled the silence of the apartment, and even as Yuta came in an hour or so later, only to find you sprawled out messily in his bed, phone still in your hand, did he chuckle. His hands are gentle as he guides you into a normal position for sleep that wouldn’t fuck over your back, putting your phone on charge, and pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
And as he leaves the room to shower, not hearing the quiet murmur of his name leaving your lips. 
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“You have to try a little,” you’re nearly waving your ice cream cone in front of Yuta’s face, soft serve dripping onto the pavement, and the soft pink swirl threatening to topple over in front of your eyes, but the risk of losing your beloved ice cream was not as important as advocating for it, “c’mon it’s so good—” 
“Baby, the ice cream is supposed to be your treat for all the progress you’ve made on your thesis, not a taste test, and I have my own flavor—” but as the ice cream hovers in front of his face, Yuta tastes it — the subtle sakura flavor lingering on his tongue, “it’s good,” he concedes, “but not as good as my matcha,” 
It had been a lot to tear you away from your work — it had been weeks in the making of trying to get you to take a break that wasn’t you falling asleep on the couch with your laptop and notes strewn about or a mindless TV break. And the times you both were supposed to have together often ended with one of you being busy or falling asleep. He barely remembered the last time the two of you had spent together that didn’t involve takeout or the couch. 
You pout, “Sakura is so much better,” you grumble, licking at your ice cream, trying to stem the excess melting off the sides of your waffle cone, and he chuckles, as a little of your ice cream sticks to your nose. 
“More for you then right?” he’s pulling a tissue out to wipe your nose and lips before kissing them, “Mm, it’s sweeter on your lips,” and he knows your cheeks are burning as you avert your eyes, biting your lip.
“You’re the worst,” and he laughs, as he wraps his arm around your middle, “but I’ll say you’re right about today. This date was definitely needed,” you lean into his touch, still working on your ice cream, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy,” 
“You don’t have to apologize, it’s not just you that’s busy—” 
“I know, but it’s mostly been me,” your eyes find his, and he wavers under your glance, “I know we haven’t had a lot of time together, and I promise, it’s only going to last a little longer, once I’m done with my thesis I’m all yours,” 
And it’s hard for him to believe that — but he tries, because he knows you are. 
“I know,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “I’m just glad we got to do this today, I just feel like we keep missing each other, and it just…it’s been bothering me,” 
And you kiss his jaw, before softly smiling, “You’re not alone,” and his lips find yours again, and again, ice cream starting to run down his fingers and palm, but he could care less about anything else but you at this moment, “You’re gonna make me drop my ice cream,” 
“I’ll buy you another,” and you laugh, kissing him this time, and he melts just like the ice cream into your grasp, your arms wrapped around him tight, “now who’s making our ice cream melt?” 
“You said you’d buy me another anyway,” you nuzzle his neck, “plus I have to leave space to eat you up later,” and you giggle as his cheeks burn, “you blush so easily still, thought you would be used to my teasing by now,” 
“Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, still feels like a dream,” you pinch his cheek in reply, a smirk on your lips, as you kiss the skin that you pinched. 
“Now, it’s not a dream, is it?” And right as your lips were about to meet his again—
RING. RING. RING. 
Your brow furrows as you ignore it at first, before a sigh catches in your throat, “hold on—“ you check your messages, your brow furrowing, “fuck,” you swear under your breath. 
“What’s wrong?” And you’re tossing your ice cream in a nearby trash can, wiping your hand with one of the tissues the ice cream place had handed you, before texting back. 
“Geto wants to meet today about my thesis. Apparently some departmental meetings got pushed around, and today is the only day he can meet in person—“ 
“Do you have to—“ and you’re shaking your head in exasperation, burying your face in your hands. 
“I have no choice. It’s the only time until a week and half from now, and I can’t wait to get this feedback, otherwise it will throw off my entire schedule—“ 
“But this is the only time we can meet,” he cuts you off, voice catching on the words, as his tongue is caught between holding it and wagging it, “I miss you, baby, we haven’t seen each other in weeks because of our schedules, because of your thesis—“ because of him, “when will our relationship take priority? When will I be important enough to matter?” 
“Yuta,” your voice breaks, “of course you matter to me—“ and your phone vibrates again, cutting you off, and he takes a beat and a breath. He swallows thickly, this wasn’t the right time for this. 
But when would it be? 
“Go,” he says, and your eyebrows knit together, lips parting to refuse, “I’m okay, really. We’ll talk when you get home,” but he’s stepping towards you, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “promise, we’re ok. Just go. I’ll call you.” 
“You sure?” He wasn’t. He wasn’t sure if he should let you go or stand his ground — but, his fingers cupped your cheek, and kissed your lips — but he was sure that he loved you. 
“I’m sure,” and he wanted what was best for you — and he watches you leave after you say your farewells — even if it wasn’t best for him. 
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You shouldn’t have agreed to this. 
Agreed to take this meeting over your date. Agreed to meet in the lecture hall instead of his office. Agreed to have him as your thesis advisor. Agreed to even take a course with him to begin with. You were several steps too close to regret being born, but your real mistake was ever pursuing this man to begin with. 
That was your mistake — and now you are reaping what you sow. 
Literally. 
“Your lecture was compelling — I have so much to learn from you,” you stood outside his lecture hall as students filed out quicker than usual, without the typical quorum that formed after every one of his classes — only to find the reason that a single person commanded his attention, “I didn’t realize how wonderfully interesting philosophy could be as a topic,” her voice already grates on your ears, the elongated syllables of her words nearly enough for you to roll your eyes into the back of your head so far that you were they would get stuck. 
“It’s a fine line between interesting and dry, I’m glad I could walk it for you, Mei Mei,” and you could hear the smile in his tone, the saccharine sweetness enough for you to choke on and die of excess sugar, but unfortunately you don’t, so you have to hear the rest of this conversation. 
“I’m so glad I took Satoru’s advice to see your lecture, it was definitely eye opening,” and you furrow your brow, “he’s been asking me about you — he told me if I stopped by to have you call him,” 
You purse your lips — Satoru? 
A sigh in his voice as he speaks “He sent a real messenger this time? I get his texts, I have been really busy with my duties—“ 
“You know what they say — about all work and no play?” You hear the click of heels against the floor, as she assuredly steps closer, “maybe I can help you with the play—“ 
You knock on the door then, hand possessed, as you spot the woman with whom the voice belonged — her long silver locks tied into a braid that hung past her shoulders, her dark eyes finding yours and brow arched in curiosity, and wine stained lips curled. 
“Professor, I’m sorry to interrupt, but our meeting?” Your voice was laced with irritation you didn't intend to have, “I have a class after this, so unless you’d like to reschedule?” 
Suguru’s lips part, only for Mei Mei to speak first, “I’m sorry about that — that’s my fault — old friends you know?” Her head tilts, as if to say, no, I know you don’t know, “and you are one of Suguru’s little students?” 
“I’m his former T.A. and he is my thesis advisor,” and his girlfriend, you want to add — ex girlfriend, rather, but the words are as taboo as your feelings are, “I’m sure Professor Geto wouldn’t mind speaking to you after our meeting if you could wait,” 
And again Suguru opens his mouth to speak, but she cuts him off again, “Oh I wouldn’t mind waiting at all, not for him,” she walks past, “I’ll wait for you in your office, Suguru,” and you have to force your expression to be neutral, a knot in your gut, and a fist clenched and hidden around the handle of your bag, “I’ll make myself comfortable,” 
The lecture hall door closes behind her, the click of the door brings silence between the two of you, “I apologize if—“ 
“No, I should be sorry for interrupting,” you cut him off, your throat tied into knots, a distinct dull ache in your chest that surely shouldn’t belong to you — not after all of this, “I should have just rescheduled—“ 
“No, I’m glad you interrupted,” he says, “we have an appointment and she really is only a—“ 
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Professor,” and the title seems to cut this time, slicing through his mask, fraying his calm demeanor and leaving behind a deep frown, “it’s your business, not mine,” not anymore. 
His mouth opens and close, before he speaks, “Maybe not as a professor,” he says softly, taking a step forward, “but I think I do as your—“ 
“I’m not ‘your’ anything—“ you interrupt him, taking a step back,  “I’m only a student, and your advisee, nothing else, Professor Geto,” you’re turning to leave, “let’s reschedule after all, I have somewhere to be,” 
You had to be somewhere that wasn’t here — here with dredged up emotions that had no right belonging to you. Ones that you thought you had moved past, ones that shouldn’t hurt you the way they do now, and ones that you don’t know how to stop from spilling from your lips. 
“You’re not just—“
“Did you hear that she would wait for you?” you don’t turn to look back at him, “I wish you could have done the same,” you give him a second, one second longer than he gave you when he broke up with you, to reply, but he says nothing, “I’ll email you a few times to meet next week, just send me any edits you have on my pages.” 
The door clicks behind you as you leave the classroom behind, wondering if you had ever rid yourself of your feelings, or if you had simply buried it— 
And now, you are starting to unearth it — and your world may crumble underneath you along with it. 
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There was something wrong with him. 
But there always was — when it came to you. 
Suguru stared at the email you had sent later that week, opting to skip the in person meeting again for the third week in a row. The semester was over half over — and now the other department head had started in Kyoto, so he had a little more free time — and yet he couldn’t use it to help you, at least not really. 
Your thesis was shaping up — you were on the right track now, and he knew your paper would need little edits before being submitted for peer review. And when it did, a journal would be lucky to publish it. By that standard, he could take a more hands off approach — but he never wanted to be hands off, not with you. 
He wanted nothing more than to take you into his arms, fingers trace the curve of your cheek as he’s done countless times before, and press a kiss to those lips that consume his consciousness. 
But he couldn’t. 
Not when he was the one who had broken your heart, when you had managed to piece it back together, and when you had found happiness with someone else. 
Something he wasn’t sure he could ever do. 
Mei Mei was an unforeseen complication — a donor that made some generous investments in the university — trivial with the amount of wealth she possessed, mostly due to Satoru’s convincing. And Satoru was the reason she had decided to sit in on his class — and he was stuck entertaining her, while his best friend was away on his sabbatical. And he couldn’t resist an opportunity to fuck with him while he was away — his apparent revenge after Suguru had avoided his texts. 
And your reaction was—not what he expected. He pursed his lips, you were jealous right? That’s what you seemed to imply with your words — as if Mei Mei was a friend he would be interested in. The pot calling the kettle black — when you were the one to move on first. A sigh caught in his throat, not that he had any right to complain. Not when it was his fault.  
But when the only person he was truly in love with was in front of him — the pain in your gaze as fresh as it was the day he had broken up with you — it was hard to hold back, especially when he wanted nothing more than to—
And then there was a knock at his door, “it’s me,” your voice came through the wood, his eyes sliding to the time, it was late into the evening, “can I come in?” 
“Yes, come in,” 
“I apologize, I just had a few questions I wasn’t able to ask over email, and since I was on campus, I thought—“ 
He shakes his head, your rambles still as endearing as they always were — though you had kicked the habit in your papers, you couldn’t help but ramble in the way you spoke, “No need to explain, what can I help you with?” 
You lean back, hands folded in your lap, “Do you remember when we discussed the concept of a happiness pump as a criticism of utilitarianism?” 
“Yes, in class, we discussed it — the idea of someone who will do anything to make others happy, even if it makes them miserable,” he tilts his head, as he leans back in his chair, eyes betraying him as he watches your dress ride up ever so slightly as you cross your legs — he forces his gaze to your face, “do you plan on using it in your thesis—“ 
Your eyes could cut stone with its biting glare, “No, I don’t, I wanted to talk about it in context of why you broke up with me — do you plan on being a happiness pump for the rest of your life? Or is that simply for me?” 
His mind moves slowly as his words do, “what—“ 
“Because it’s only for me, it’s flattering — if it’s what you do for everyone, well, it’s just exhausting,” you scoff, twirling a strand of your hair with your finger, “especially when your idea of what will make others happy is so misled,” 
“And how’s that?” He says through gritted teeth. 
And you’re rising from your chair, “You think my happiness means to make yourself miserable, when it does nothing more than make me unhappy,” you’re rounding the desk, fingertips dragging over the edge of the surface, “do you want to spend the rest of your life miserable? Do you think that girlfriend of yours will make you happy?” 
“She’s not—“ and your heels clicking against the wood cuts him off. 
And you’re only drawing closer and closer, and he can’t bring himself to speak — words caught in his throat because he knew anything he uttered would break this spell, and he wanted nothing more than to succumb, “pumped full of unhappiness when it could very well be the opposite—“ and your hand is sliding up his chest, toying with the top buttons of his button-up, lips ghosting his ear as you whisper, “when you know I know exactly how to pump you, don’t I?” 
“Sweetheart, please, we can’t—“ and your fingers finding the buckle of his belt, a gasp lodged in his throat, as your hand grazes his tenting bulge, twitching against your thumb as it runs over the clothed tip, “fuck—“ 
“We could be so happy, like before,” your lips brush against his, and he crumbles under your touch — his resistance crumbles like a statue made to wait, and god, he’s waited so long for this — too long. 
His lips find yours in a bruising kiss, the way he’s wanted to since he had watched you leave that day — the way he should have, the way he should have grabbed your hand and stopped you, pulled you into his arms, and never let you go. 
And he never would again. 
BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ. 
Suguru jolts awake at the sound of his phone, a paper stuck to his face, drool sticky at the corner of his mouth. He tugs the paper away, rubbing his eyes, as his heart slowly retracts from his throat. 
A dream. He runs his fingers through his hair, leaning back in his chair, what the fuck was he doing? Sleeping at his desk again accompanied by wet dreams of you — he thought he had grown from this. But you always sent him right back where he started, his eyes falling to the bulge in his pants. He ignores it, gathering his things and tracing the edge of his desk as he rounded it to leave his office. He took a look over his shoulder at his office that he spent so much time with, he was sure of one thing — he flicked off the light — you would be the one to haunt him. 
For the rest of his days. 
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“Baby, aren’t you gonna get up now?” Yuta murmurs in your ear, pressing sweet kisses to the skin behind it, fingers resting against the nape of your neck, “you said you have to practice for your thesis presentation,” 
You mumbled, burying your face in his neck, as the two of you lie entangled on the couch for your mid afternoon Saturday nap, “a few more minutes,” 
The semester had been going by far too quick, days slipping into weeks, and now there was just over a month left in the semester. And soon you’d be graduating — his fingers raked gently through your hair — and he didn’t exactly know what that meant for the two of you. 
He still has a year left in his program, and you were going to be moving on — though you weren’t sure exactly where. And he would be here — but what then? Would it be a long distance relationship ? Would you look for opportunities here? Or would it be something else? 
He didn’t want to think about other possibilities. 
So many of his friends had warned him not to date while in grad school — that it would only end in heartbreak, and the more significant fact that it would always end. Your face nuzzled into his neck, warm breath still warming his skin, as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head — and he never wanted to be apart, not from you. 
“Baby,” you mumble, “what time is it?” And he can’t help but smile at you, as he reaches for his phone. 
“It’s almost four-thirty,” and you groan softly, wrapping your arms around him tighter, “you still have time before you have to go practice don’t you?” 
“No, I reserved the classroom until seven, if I don’t go now, I won’t have enough time to practice,” you kiss his neck, “I have to get as much practice in this month before doing my defense,” You untangle your limbs from his and haul yourself to your feet, his body already mourning the absence of your heat. He watches you make your way to the bedroom to change, the door still open as you strip your shirt off.
His gaze admires you as you do, shifting to sitting up, his chin leaning against the back of the couch, “When is your defense again?” 
“It’s in three weeks,” you sigh, as you tug a shirt over your head, “I’m so nervous, I have to start practicing now or I’ll drive myself insane,” and you’re stripping off your shorts in exchange for some jeans, “my advisor, many of my professors, students from the department, and maybe some undergrads might attend,” you turn, as you finish changing, catching his admiring gaze with a slight smirk, “and unlike you, they won’t just be interested in staring at me,” 
“I think some of them definitely will,” he smiles, and you walk over, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to his lips, “at least, I’ll be, if you let me,” 
Your lips curl, “Oh yeah? I think I’ll be distracted if you keep giving me this puppy dog look, baby,” you kiss his nose, “might make me walk over in the middle of the defense and kiss you,” 
A soft chuckle leaves his throat, “That would cause a scene, but I could also be some moral support — a friendly face,” 
“More than friendly, you’re selling yourself short, Yu,” you kiss him again, and he can taste the lingering salt and butter of the popcorn you two had ate earlier during your afternoon movie turned nap time, “but I think having you there would make me more nervous, so is it okay if we just have dinner to celebrate or cheer me up after?” 
His brows knit together, “You don’t want me there?” but Geto gets to be there? The unspoken feelings he can’t find in him to voice, the words lodged in his chest, ricocheting off his ribs if only to free themselves from his anxious heart to spill from his lips — but they don’t. 
“I do, Yu, of course, but I think having you there will just make me more nervous, I’ll just keep looking at you instead of addressing the whole audience, and…” you bite your lip, “with Professor Geto already having to be there, I think I would spend the whole time worrying about the two of you together than about my defense,” 
And his heart sinks — your ex gets to be there, but he doesn’t? At one of your most important moments? He knows logically the only reason you ask because you can’t ask Geto — but it doesn’t hurt any less. Does he always have to be the nice one? The mature one? Couldn’t he argue with you?
No, but he could ask. 
“Do you think I’ll make a scene or that he’ll—“ and you’re shaking your head, your fingers cupping his cheek. 
“Of course not. I know you would do nothing but support me, but still forcing you two of be in the room together,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “even if you say it’s okay, I know it’s still hard,” his lips part, but you add, “and it would be awkward for me too. And I can’t do anything about Geto, but I can ask you,” 
You could always ask him. He would do anything for you — but did his feelings matter as much to you? 
“Of course, I understand,” your lips curl, and you’re pulling him into a hug, you rake your fingers through his hair. 
“Are you sure?” You murmur, pressing your forehead to his, “you can tell me if you’re not okay with it,” 
He could tell you that he’s not — he could tell you that it’s important for him to come, for everyone to see that he was important to you, for him to see that he was important. But it wasn’t about him. This was your defense, shouldn’t you have a right to have who you want there? 
Even if it wasn’t him. 
“It’s fine baby, I just want to support you,” he kisses your lips, “but I’ll plan something special for after you pass your defense — because I know you will,” 
You kiss him again, softer and fuller this time, as your fingers run down his cheek, “You don’t have to plan anything — I just want you, and maybe some food,” and he chuckles, as you place butterfly kisses all over his face, “I love you,” 
And he knew you did — you loved him — and that was enough, right? 
“I love you too,” and you’re pulling away, as you pull on your shoes and grab your bag. 
“I’ll be home by eight, should I grab dinner?” and he leans back on the couch, nodding, “I’ll see you when I get home okay?”
And he was the one you always came home to — the one you wanted to come home to — and that was enough. 
“See you soon, baby.” 
For now. 
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You enter the lecture hall, the door closing behind you with a click that rings in the silence. 
Of course. 
Of course you ended up with the lecture hall you had with Suguru’s class. You round the podium at the bottom, and give a terse chuckle, how had it been so long but so little time? How many days had you watched him lecture here — only to end up falling for him after? Even despite how much you hated him — it was so easy. 
And still so hard. 
You set up your phone to record yourself, if only so you could fine tune your presentation, and see any spots that you struggle. You prop it up, making sure it’s framed correctly on the desk directly in front of you. You run through your presentation once, noting spots for improvements or thoughts for potential questions people could pose during your defense. 
You flipped through a few pages of your notes — wondering how this semester had flown by. 
The rest of your thesis was completed over email — brief email exchanges and your thoughts exchanged through notes scrawled on the pages he scanned to you. It was better this way — you didn’t have to see him. You didn’t have to see the smile on his lips that you didn’t put there, a stray lipstick mark on his collar that you didn’t stain, or the happiness in his voice that you didn’t cause. 
No, you didn’t need to see that. 
But you didn’t know why. 
Why did the idea of him moving on irk you when you had already moved on? You weren’t vindictive — your fingers drumming against the podium — you wanted him to be happy, to find someone who made him happy — maybe in all the ways you couldn’t. But the stubborn thought remained — the same one that kept you up crying every night after he broke your heart and haunted you even in your happiest of nights — that he could have had it all with you — but he didn’t. And now here you both were, fake smiles plastered in front of each other whenever your paths crossed, as if those lips hadn’t murmured ‘I love you’ before in the quiet of the night. 
But why did it matter? You were happy with Yuta, you had moved on, and yet — when you saw Suguru with her, it felt as if the stitches holding your heart together had come undone, and you were back — right where you started. 
But it didn’t matter. Either way the thesis was complete, and now all that was left in front of you was the defense, then you would be done — with this project, with your degree, and with Suguru. 
But would you ever be done with him? 
There was a knock at the door, and you turn only to find Suguru leaning against the frame, “Sorry to interrupt,” 
Apparently you would never be. 
Your shock lasts a moment, before your eyes flicker back to your stack of papers, “Do you need something?” The question comes more bitingly than you intended, but you don’t bother to gauge his reaction, focusing on mindlessly rifling through your presentation. 
“I forgot my notes for tomorrow’s class,” he says, quiet steps ringing in the silence of the lecture hall, “didn’t mean to interrupt,” and you’re gathering your notes, catching a glimpse before you step back from the podium, “are you practicing for your defense?”
“I am,” your answer is as terse as your emails, eyes fixed anywhere but where Suguru stood, as he pulled his file from one of the shelves inside the podium. 
“Do you need any help?” He asks, and you almost want to ask: ‘haven’t you helped me enough?’ But you don’t, only shaking your head in reply. The silence drags on for far too long, “can we talk?” 
Your muscles tense, a bow drawn taut for an argument, but you would draw blood first, “What is there to talk about, Professor—“ 
His calm facade cracks, irritation seeping in like poison through the fractures,“You don’t need to call me that—“ 
“I do,” you cut him off, “because that’s what you are. My professor. Nothing more,” and it’s a line in the sand you’ve drawn since you’ve met again, one he hasn’t dared to toe, much less cross, until now. 
His voice is broken, “We were so much more,” yes, you both were. He was everything to you as you were to him — but that was before. And this was now. 
“Operative words are key, Professor — ‘were’ is past tense,” 
“But we’re here now, aren’t we? How long are we going to avoid discussing this?” 
You scoff, “am I the one who avoided it? Do I have to discuss it now on your terms — when you didn’t even give me a chance to make my own decisions before?” Your fingers curl into fists, “you broke me, you broke me and now you come back wanting to talk as if you didn’t do the breaking to begin with? You don’t get to come back when I’m fixed,” the bottled emotions burst at the seams of its lid, the contents more vile than when they were placed inside, resentment fermented into rage. 
“I know,” he says softly, “I’m not trying to come back, not if that’s what you don’t want. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I left you. I thought it was the best for you—“ 
“Because you know better than I do?” You give a bitter chuckle, “do you know infantilizing it is to have someone make your decisions for you? I know what I wanted, Suguru, and I would have chosen you, every time—“
“That was the problem,” he cuts you off, “I wanted you to choose yourself,” 
“Do you not understand that choosing you is choosing myself too? Because it would have been a choice for me, for us, for us to be happy,” 
And those words seem to sink in the silence, his eyes averting from yours, a hand scrubbing down his face. 
“You’re right,” he finally says, “I’m sorry,” his words are quiet, but heavy — a rock sinking slightly into near still waters, “I wanted you to have everything, but I didn’t take into consideration what that meant to you,” he says, “I suppose I didn’t consider what I owe you,” he adds, and you shake your head, a small smile on your lips. 
“Shut up,” a chuckle leaves your lips despite yourself, cooling the white hot anger to warm wistfulness,  “I wish it could have worked out,” and he nods, a small frown on his lips. 
“Me too,” 
“But maybe it was for the best,” and his eyes find yours, as you step back to the podium to place your papers down, “it was never going to work between us. It was already too complicated to begin with, and when we finally got together, there was a time limit,” you find his gaze again, unreadable, “maybe it was for the best we moved on,” he doesn’t reply, “I should get back to work,” 
He nods, as he turns to leave, casting a glance back over his shoulder,  “Let me know if you need help with anything. Practice or otherwise, has the final formatting of your thesis been approved?” 
“It hasn’t yet, but I believe I followed the guidelines correctly, so there shouldn’t be an issue,” you say, and he nods, as the door clicks open, as he turns the handle, “thank you again, for everything,” and there’s far too much that can encompass everything that he did even in that word, but you meant it all the same. Everything he did had led you to this moment, and you would never be ungrateful for the impact he had. 
“Of course, I’ll always be there for you, anytime,” his eyes find yours, lips curled in a wanting smile that wishes to say more, “even when I actually do move on.” 
And he’s gone in a moment, the door shutting behind him, as your gaze is fixed on the place he just stood — lips parted.
What? 
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“Professor,” you stop him, fingers reaching for him, even as you promised you wouldn’t — wouldn’t put yourself here again, wouldn’t find yourself falling into his grasp again, but here you were again — you never learned your lesson. But you wondered if that made you a bad student or him a bad professor, “what do you mean?” 
He’s turning only for your hand to grasp onto the sleeve of his jacket, your name leaving his lips but you cut him off. 
The question wavers on your lips, “Are you not with—“ 
“No, I’m not. She’s just a friend, like I said,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I know it’s ironic for me to be the one to break up with you, and not have moved on, but, I haven’t,” his fingers brush against your own holding his jacket, before slowly intertwining, “I don’t know if I ever will,” 
“Well, some philosophers believe in endurantism — the past is dead, and we live here and now — we can’t do anything about what happened then — we’re whole right now, and not defined by what happened then, or what happens in the future,” your fingers squeeze his, “if we let this go, we could just exist now — the past erased and the future unclear — but we’re no less whole, are we?” your fingers slowly let go of his — but his don’t. He only clings to your fingers still, stubbornly laced. 
“Perhaps you aren’t,” and he’s gently tugging you closer, you don’t find yourself resisting, but instead leaning into his touch, “but I always find myself clinging to my past — when you’re contained within it,” he lifts your hand to his lips,  “what future do I have without you?” He presses a soft kiss that steals your logic, “and what present is worth being in that I don’t get to spend at your side?” 
“Suguru—“ and he sighs, as draws closer to you, breath warming your lips. 
“Been so long since I’ve heard you say my name,” his lips ghost your jaw, barely not brushing against it, “my name doesn’t sound the same unless it’s leaving your lips,” 
“We shouldn’t,” but even so, the back of his hand lightly drags against your why shouldn’t you? Not when it felt so good, not when it felt this right, and your lips graze his, “Suguru,” you’re murmuring, the faint lingering taste of coffee on his lips, “fuck—“ 
RING. RING. RING.  
Your eyes flutter open to find yourself in bed alone, your hand reaching beside you only to find more of your blanket and more pillows beside you, as it dawns on you. 
A dream. Of course. A sigh stuck in your throat — no, you had watched him leave that night without another word, even though you had so many to say, but none at all. And even now, you didn’t know what to say — to Suguru, to yourself, or to Yuta. 
So you said nothing. And instead, you’re left with an aching in your chest as you grab your phone to find a text from Yuta— 
Had to go in early today— I’ll see you for dinner, baby 
You lock your screen and place your phone on the nightstand, before turning back around to bury yourself in bed — as if staying in bed would bury your feelings along with yourself—
Because that’s not whose text you wanted to see. 
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“You’re home,” Yuta says when he walks through the door to find you lying on the couch and scrolling on your phone. 
“No ‘hi you’re home?’” And Yuta snorts, as he strips off his clothes, and walks in to place a kiss on your lips, burying his face in the crook of your neck, drawing a giggle from your lips, “I missed you too,”
“I thought you were going to practice today. Your defense is the day after tomorrow. I didn’t think I’d get to see you out of a classroom until tomorrow evening when it was done,” you run your fingers through his dark locks, “thought I’d have to pry you away from your notecards,” 
“Ha, ha,” you kiss his cheek, brushing your nose against it, “I thought it would be good to take a break tomorrow, and I’m just exhausted after all the practice I did tonight,” you sigh, and he’s on the couch beside you, wrapping his arms around your middle, “this seems like a much better use of my time,” you settle into his arms, “how was your day?” 
Yuta shrugs, kissing your shoulder, “Better now,” and you chuckle, rumbling against his skin, sending a shiver up his spine as you lean over, his cheeks a pretty flush that only makes your lips curl, “it’s been too long since we got time like this. I don’t even know where to start,” he nuzzled the side of your face. 
You turn your head to kiss him fully, lips sliding against his, voice a quiet murmur, “then let’s make our time count,” your sweet kiss grows deeper, your tongue at the seam of his lips that he parts for you. You swallow his moan with a smirk on your lips, your body moving against his slowly, his tenting erection catching on your clit through the far too thin material of your shorts. 
“Fuck,” you murmur, as you slowly begin to grind on his bulge, the delicious friction too much for him as well, head lolling back against the couch, “Yu, s’good,”
“Mm,” Yuta parts from your lips, panting as your lips press eager kisses down his neck, a desperation he hadn’t sensed before from you,  “baby, slow down,” and you almost don’t seem to hear him, as your fingers find their way between your bodies to touch him through his joggers, “ngh, you don’t need to—“ 
But you seemingly do, as your thumb flicks against the tip, a soft hiss escapes his lips, “like that, pretty boy?” You’re murmuring in his ear, “gonna make you feel so good, because you’re s’good f’me,” 
And you’re slipping his joggers and boxers down to free his cock, stroking him from base to tip, lovely beads of precum dripping down his length and your knuckles. 
“Fuck,” he’s covering his face with his hand, his fingers grasping at your hips, before eager fingers slide between your thighs and underneath your underwear, drawing a lovely gasp from your lips, “wanna make you feel good too, baby,” as his fingers circle your dripping entrance teasingly, a smirk on his lips, as he sinks one then two fingers in knuckle deep—
“Yu—“ your hand stills for a moment as his fingers work their way against your drenched insides, “fuck—“ and you’re melting into his arms — and maybe this was just what you both needed. 
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“This was so nice,” you mumble against his chest later, pressing soft kisses against his skin as the two of you laid entangled in the afterglow, “it’s been too long,” 
He hums, “It was perfect,” his fingers skim down your cheek, “you know we could have this every day,” and you chuckle, the corner of your lips curled mischievously. 
“Do you have the stamina for that?” you tease, painting a heated flush across his cheeks, as he rolls his eyes. 
“I mean, we could go to sleep like this every night, and wake up together every morning if we moved in together,” and you blink at him, his nervousness overcoming him as he begins to backpedal, “w-we don’t have to! I just thought I’m ready for the next step with you. And I want to—“ 
You cut him off with a soft kiss, pausing his worries and anxiety in the syrupy sweetness of your kiss, before you pull away, “I think I need some time to think about it,” 
And he nods, “take all the time you need, baby,” pressing a kiss to your forehead, but a thought still niggles into the forefront of his mind that he can’t help but dwell on— 
Would you say yes if it was Geto asking? 
It always seemed that you were ready when it came to him. Ready to be with him, no matter what the consequence, willing to make it work — but with him, it felt as if he was always the one chasing, and you were reluctantly within his grasp. 
As you drew closer into his arms as the two of you settled down to sleep, his fingers running softly through your hair, he wondered how long it would be until he felt as if he wasn’t the one desperately holding onto you, even as you seemingly always slipped away. 
Even as he held you against his chest, heartbeat under where your head laid. He knew you were the one who had his heart. 
He could only hope you wouldn’t drop it. 
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“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” it wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it was always like this. No matter how well prepared you felt, something always managed to go wrong at the last minute. It was always when you were lulled into a false sense of security, only to have a rude awakening—
And this time it came in the form of an email rejecting your thesis formatting as incorrect. An email that came in that morning, but you had slept through, choosing to sleep in past noon after last night. And when your eyes fluttered open, Yuta was gone already for the day, you rolled over to check your email when you saw it. 
Fuck. 
You barely had time to text Yuta what had happened before rushing to the library to seek possible help from the librarians — fuck, you would have paid every overdue library charge if necessary. You didn’t want to wait another semester to present again. It would be more time wasted, more time spent working towards something you’re already for, more time spent in this place that you didn’t want to linger in any longer. 
How had you managed to fuck it up so bad? Now every one of your citations and in text citations would need to be redone, along with reformatting by 5:00 PM today. And it was already 2:00 PM. 
But maybe you were going to have to, as you rushed to pull the library door open, only to find it was closed this weekend due to scheduled maintenance. 
Double fuck. 
Your eyes burned with tears that you didn’t want to shed right now. You had no time to cry. You had no time to panic. But it was all you wanted to do — just crawl into bed and cry. 
You were turning back around to leave, when you nearly ran into— 
He steadies you, his fingers brushing your shoulders, as his lips part to greet you, but his brow furrows when he sees your expression, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?” 
And that wasn’t the right question to ask. 
Tears slip from your eyes before words can, as Suguru blinks, concern flooding his face, as his hand finds yours and he takes you to his office nearby. It takes a few minutes for you to calm down (several tissues later) and you finally explained to him what happened. 
His hand never leaves yours. 
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to waste another semester here, I can’t do that. I want to graduate—“  
“Listen, slow down for a second, ok?” His voice is soft, soothing your anxiety like a balm, even as your nerves flare as your eyes flicker to the time again, “There’s time to fix this and go get it resubmitted before 5:00 PM. But, even if you do have to do another semester, what’s so bad about that?”
You shake your head, biting your bottom lip, “I can’t waste time like that. I already said I was graduating. If I have to stay another semester,” more tears trail down your cheeks, your nails digging into your knees, “how could I face anyone after how hard I worked?” 
Suguru whispers your name, his fingers brushing against your cheek, “what’s another semester? Nothing will change. No one will view you any differently. But the more important thing is how you view yourself — and you know how hard you worked. You’ll be fine,” 
You’re wiping your tears, sniffling, unable to meet his gaze, “How do you have so much faith in me?” 
He gives a brief chuckle, “It’s you — how could I not?” And your eyes finally lift to meet his, as his thumb rubs lightly back and forth across your cheek, before he clears his throat, “we have time to get it resubmitted,” 
“‘We?’” and he stands up to grab a copy of your thesis and the error notes you had shown him. 
“Well I can’t have you do it, otherwise you’ll end up submitting it late,” and you huff, a watery chuckle leaving your throat, “come on.” 
“Suguru?” You call softly, as he turns, blinking at the sound of his name, “thank you.” 
“Of course.” and he smiles that damnable smile that made you fall for him — your heart squeezing and thudding against its bony cage, an aching that left you longing — a glance at your phone with Yuta’s notification that sent that longing sinking like a stone into the pit of your stomach. 
No. It wasn’t that. 
It wasn’t. Not if you let it be. 
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“I’m sorry,”
It had been quiet for sometime as the two of you made edits — him on the actual physical copy, while you edited the digital. The quiet scrape of his pen against paper and the clack of your keys are the only sound in his office. The very same one that the two of you had built your relationship from, and now here you were again. Except there was no banter, no smiles shared, nor even a knowing glance exchanged. 
There was only silence. 
Until you spoke first. 
It was a silence you weren’t accustomed to — a layer of awkwardness that had settled between the two of you as if to bandage the honesty that had shredded the false student-professor only relationship you had superimposed on top of the two of you. 
Only for you to claw your way out — and claw him open as well. 
But no bandage can seal a gaping wound for long, and there was only one way to deal with a bandage effectively, by ripping it off. 
His eyes draw up slowly from the pages in front of him, glasses perched on the tip of his nose so precariously that you wanted to push them back, “You have nothing to be sorry for — and you know it’s better to thank than apologize — I’m always here to help,” 
But that wasn’t what you were apologizing for. 
“I meant for the other day,” you say softly, guilt was crawling at your throat. 
His gaze grows heavy, “There’s nothing to apologize for that either. You were right,” he adds, “I made decisions for us, when it should have been a discussion — especially when I said it was for you—“
“I wasn’t sorry I said it,” you gently cut him off, fingers knitted together in your lap, “but I’m sorry for where and how I said it. It wasn’t the time or place for that.”
“It’s really ok,” he tells you, a glance at his face telling you that it really was, “I would have yelled at myself far sooner, and nothing you said wasn’t true,” his hand tugs at his tie, loosening it, his fingers wrapped around the fabric, “I wish I did it differently,” 
You shouldn’t ask the question but it falls from your lips before you can stop it, “What would you have done differently?” 
And he gives a smile worthy of melancholy’s grasp, “I would have kept my promise to you,” and you know which one he means without him needing to say, “I would never have left you, if I hadn’t been too busy being a happiness pump,” and those words stir warm coals in a fire you thought was long put out — but somehow burns still, a flicker of a promise for a spark. 
One you couldn’t stoke. 
“Well, you make an excellent one,” and he scoffs, “no really, I’ve never seen someone so unhappy trying to make someone else happy before,” 
“I wouldn’t say, ‘so unhappy—’” his pout is far too cute for your own good. 
“Can really tell your life fell apart without me,” you say completely teasingly, as your lips curl, only to find his eyes on you still, “what?” 
He only shakes his head, “only regretting not giving you lower than a 99 on your final paper,” and you gape at him as he bites back a chuckle, “I am the department head, maybe I could—“ 
“You mess with my grades—“ and your phone goes off — it’s Yuta. A text asking if everything was ok, before his face lights up your phone screen, and you’re not quick enough to avoid the awkward moment where Suguru sees it, “sorry I—“ 
“Go take it. I have plenty to get through,” 
“But—“ but he’s already back to reviewing your citations as if nothing had happened as you pick up the call, screech of your chair as you get up to take the call, “hey, yeah I can talk—“ and the door is closing behind you as you step outside. 
You don’t see the way he leans back, scrubbing a hand down his face to rest at his lips, “What am I doing?” 
And he really didn’t know — as always, when it came to you. 
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“You’ll do amazing,” Yuta pressed another kiss to your lips, as you did the final adjustments to your outfit for the defense, “I can’t wait to celebrate with you,” 
“I know, I can’t wait for it to be over,” you sigh, pulling him into your arms, your chin perched on his shoulder, “you still haven’t told me what we’re doing,” 
He chuckles, his fingers cupping your cheek, “I told you it’s a surprise, so telling you would defeat the purpose,” you turn away to look at yourself again, “you look perfect,” 
“You’re just saying that because you’re too nice,” you grumble and he laughs, as you bite your lip, meeting his gaze in the mirror, “I’m sorry about not having you there,” 
And he feels a twinge in his chest, he had spent the last few days not trying to think about that. It wasn’t important that he was there — it was important that you’d be coming home to him. That’s what mattered — or that’s what he kept telling himself. 
“It’s okay,” he intertwined his fingers with yours, and squeezed your hand, “I’ll be here after, waiting for your good news. Because I know it will be,” and his arms pulled you against him, and he can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t want to let go. 
Even if you were ready to go. 
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You barely remembered what you said. 
You remembered how your stomach turned and twisted in knots you didn’t know were physically possible as you made your way to the building where your defense was being held. Your fingers kept twiddling with your phone, checking the location and date listed in your email a million times to ensure you hadn’t missed your defense already or that you didn’t imagine your citations were accepted. You were sure your clothes would wrinkle from the sheer anxiety cladding through your veins, the vibration of nerves enough to beat creases into your freshly pressed clothes. 
And you remembered seeing Suguru right when you walked in. He stood behind the table with the other members of the committee, chatting — and objectively, you hated how unfairly pretty he was. His long, inky hair tucked into a neat bun today, choosing to wear a crisp white button down, opting for no tie, but a off white sweater vest and black suit jacket over his shoulders, and lips curled in a small smile that only grows warmer when he catches sight of you from the corner of his eye. And it must be nerves, the way your heart flutters within your chest and the way that heat clings to your cheeks — nothing more. 
Your eyes slide to him again — no one else. 
You remembered how people filled into the classroom that you were defending your thesis in, as you shuffled around the front, setting up your presentation and notes for talking points. You spotted Maki, Panda, and Inumaki walk in, undoubtedly Yuta’s doing, along with a few of your other friends from the program. Your hands shook ever so slightly, even as you wrung them — a nervous habit you had picked up before large presentations or important milestones. 
And then as people took their seats and it was 4:00 PM, it was time for your defense. You took a breath for a second — and your gaze finds not your friends, but Suguru’s. He offers you a smile, a look that tells you that he believes in you — always more than you ever had. 
So you begin. 
You don’t remember what you said — but you remember speaking as you did a million times before in practice. You remember making an adlib or two that draws a few chuckles from your audience. But what you mostly remember is the few glances you stole from Suguru who listened intently, a mouthed encouragement when you took a pause. 
And soon you were answering questions after concluding the main part of your presentation. You are fielding them from professors and students alike, until there was only time left for one more. There was silence for several moments — it felt like hours, the committee conferring and speaking amongst themselves. 
“I think I can take one last question,” and your eyes darted over the group, finding no hands, until one slowly went up — one you were familiar with, “Professor Geto?” 
Of course he would have a question — no less, the last one. 
“I just had one comment about your thesis, not a question,” and with how he had poked and prodded at the fire of your work from the moment you met him — the way he pushed you head first into the flames, if only to temper the best version of your work, and of yourself. And even though you had burned yourself one too many times, you couldn’t help but reach for it again and again, “after conferring with the committee, congratulations, you passed your defense.”
The audience claps and congratulates you, a sea of shaking hands and kind words while you recover from the defense. But as the crowd disperses, you find Suguru walking towards you. 
A silence settles over the two of you for a moment — a want to speak lingering between you two, but no words said. Why was it always when you had so much to say you found none of the thoughts you wanted to express? There wasn’t enough time — but they would never be.
But he breaks it first. 
“Congratulations on your defense. You did wonderfully,” he says, hands tucked into his pockets, as you bite your lip, cheeks burning. 
“No remark about me being on time? Or any little criticisms? I’m shocked. You’ve lost your edge, Professor,” he chuckles, shaking his head. 
“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he replies, his hand slipping out from his pocket only to be placed gently on your shoulder, “but right now, I just want you to know I’m proud of your determination and grit, but mostly, I’m proud of you,”
His name almost slips from your lips as your mouth opens and closes, words stuck in your throat, “Thank you. It means so much,” especially from you. But you can’t say that, “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me,” 
“You don’t owe me anything,” and you chuckle, gaze finding his own, just as it always did. 
“Don’t I? I think I owe you a drink, I never did buy you one after all — purely for networking purposes,” you add, “and a thank you for saving my ass on these citations,” 
And he’s shaking his head, “All I did is what you what have done for anyone else,” 
“And you wouldn’t?” And he shrugs. 
“For a student? Maybe. For you? Always,” and you bite your lip, gaze falling,  “what is it? 
“Why?” ‘Why for me?’ was the question you wanted to ask but you couldn’t push the words past your lips even as they rested on your tongue. 
But he knew the words. 
“You know the reasons,” he says softly, “I know you have nothing but amazing things ahead, and I’d do anything to see you reach your goals,” 
And he would. He did.
“I can agree with that,” a hand clasps your shoulder, Yaga gives a small smile, “good job,” 
“Professor Yaga, oh my god,” you grin, resisting the urge to hug him, “how are you? Are you feeling better?” 
“I’m well enough. Treatment has been honestly shit, but my son is doing a good enough job looking after me,” Yaga rubs the back of his head, “that and balancing classes hasn’t been easy for the kid.” 
“Your son goes here?” Professor Yaga points at a familiar cluster of three, “Panda?” You didn’t really see a family resemblance but you supposed you didn’t have to. 
He nods, “but I’m not here to talk about him,” he holds his hand out to you, “I’m very proud of you. I know you have a bright future ahead. I apologize I couldn’t help—“ 
“You did too much. Thank you Professor Yaga,” and then others are calling for you, “if you both will excuse me,” 
“Of course, I need to speak to Suguru so it’s just as well,” and your attention is pulled, but the corner of your eye still watches him, watches him leave the leave — leaving you behind here. Just as it should be, your gaze sliding back, as your fingers rested against your chest. 
So why did it hurt so much? 
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Yuta was late — it seems he always was, when it came to you. 
Even so, this time it was somewhat purposely, but he still had tried to be on time. He wanted to at least hear the very end of your defense, if not in sight, then outside the classroom. But he had run late, trying to straighten out reservations he made at a restaurant you’ve been wanting to try for months. He had finally convinced them to bring out a cake as if to celebrate your birthday, but for your thesis. It was silly, as Yuta half walked half sprinted to the room of your defense, only to find it was over. 
The doors to the lecture hall had been opened after your defense finished, some people filing out, while others lingered to speak to you or others. Yuta held the bouquet of flowers behind him, scanning the group for you — and his eyes fell on you — with Geto. 
You were both off to the side, speaking alone, his hand clasped on your shoulder, before slipping off. And it was clear from the way he looked at you — that he felt the same for you as he always did. And you—
You looked the same, as you always did, when it came to Geto. 
Yuta’s fingers squeeze at the base of the flowers, plastic crinkling under his grasp. He hadn’t asked why you had stopped meeting with him for your thesis — almost a relief to have your correspondence all over email, and not to face dealing with the weekly meetings. He hadn’t asked, but he could assume some sort of argument happened, a discussion, a confession maybe — something you hadn’t broached with him. And a part of him really didn’t want you to. He didn’t want to have the boat rocked on him — but—
As he watched you become pulled away when another professor joined your conversation, and Geto was pulled away out of the room by that same professor — Yuta saw your eyes follow Geto’s back. The two walk past Yuta without notice, engrossed in their conversation, and Yuta catches a few snippets of it before they’re out the door. 
And he turned back to you — he knew he may have to be the one to rock it. Because the ship had already begun taking in water — and it was either he grasped onto the side with white knuckles and went down with it, or he let it go, letting it fall into the wreckage. He glanced away from you, starting to walk off towards the exit — because maybe this ship wasn’t made to sail, but to sink. 
And he couldn’t let himself drown — even for you. 
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You checked your phone again as you left — no phone calls, not even a text back. You bit your lip as you made your way back to the apartment. You had already called him three times, but your anxiety was getting the better of you. He had told you he would meet you after the defense, but there wasn’t any sign of him. 
You opened the door to your place, keys jingling as head inside to find him sitting on the couch. You put your things down, as you head to the living room. 
“Yu? Are you okay? You weren’t picking up—“ and you see a bag of his things packed, “Yuta?” 
“Sorry I made you worry, baby, I just thought,” he sighs, unable to meet your gaze as he looks in front of him, “I thought I could wait, but I can’t,” 
“Yuta, what? What’s—“ 
Your name leaves his lips, cutting you off gently, as he finally looks at you, gaze heavy, “we need to break up.” 
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You don’t have words. 
No, you have one word. 
“Why?” You ask, as you take steps forward to sit beside him, as your mind struggles to keep up — your certificate still in your hand, the excitement of being done all but extinguished. 
“I’m sorry, but don’t you know why?” He asks softly, and your eyebrows knit together, shaking your head, 
“What are you talking about?” And you’re wringing your hands, fingers nearly in knots, a sigh parting your lips as you try to soothe yourself, “Yuta, I know I’ve been busy this semester with my thesis, but it’s done with. And we can go back to—“ 
“We can’t,” and it was so final — so definitive — and without a way for you to have a choice. Yet again. Were you doomed to repeat this cycle? Again and again. With no change in the outcome. And you don’t know what to say, as you scrub a hand down your face. 
“Okay then,” and your name slips from his lips, as you cross your arms. 
“You don’t understand—“ and your chuckle is so bitter. 
“How can I when you haven’t explained? All you’ve said are cryptic things that I’m supposed to piece together what? What am I supposed to know?” Tears slip down your cheek, forcing your voice to stay steady, the stress of the last few months crashing down around you just as your relationship did, “I know that I haven’t been the best girlfriend. And I’m sorry. I really am,” your voice breaks, “But I tried. I tried to communicate. I tried to spend time with you, even when I didn’t have a minute to myself. You knew I’d be busy. You knew that going in and still—“ 
His voice is gentle, so gentle that it infuriates you — gentle even when he’s hurting you, “It’s not that—“ 
“Then what is it?” You snap — you were tired of running in circles — you needed an answer, a tangible reason why. 
“Geto,” you blink, as the confession settles over his face, “it wasn’t your schedule. It was who you spent it with,” and you’re staring for a moment, expression crumbling under the weight of the truth. 
“Yuta, Yu, no—“ you step towards him, but he only sighs, running a hand through his hair, “it was only for my thesis. Nothing happened between us. I promise,” 
“I trust you when you say nothing happened,” but his eyes lift to meet yours, “and in a way nothing has happened, because you still love him,” 
“yuta—“ 
“I know you love me, in some way,” the words leave his lips slowly, cutting you each syllable, but you can’t imagine how deeply and how long he’s been cut by these thoughts already, “but not like you love him—“ 
“That’s not—“ 
“You know before we started dating, I talked to Maki about how I feel, and I told her I was afraid that you would never look at me the way you look at him,” and the mended pieces of your heart break apart with new cracks with the way his voice wavers, “but all this time, and still, you haven’t. Even today, when I waited outside of the lecture hall, I saw you both together — and I know,” he breaks off, biting his lip, “I know it was him congratulating you, but the way you looked at him hadn’t changed—“ 
You’re shaking your head, “Yuta, no, no, it’s just a look. I don’t even know how I look at him, but it doesn’t—“ 
“I do know how you look. It hasn’t changed,” he’s swallowing, his eyes fall to the floor, “and it’s not just that. Do you see a future with me?” 
“Of course—“ 
“When I brought up moving in, you said you’d think about it, but have you?” you open and close your mouth, fingers grasping at the fabric of your clothes, “have you thought about what happens after you graduate? Or what’s next for us?” your silence is answer enough — sinking in for you, as it already did for him — slipping in between your ribs like a well placed dagger — and it had stabbed him all the same too, “you love me, but I don’t think you’re in love with me,” 
“Yuta, I do, I do love you—“ and he draws close to you, fingers cupping your cheek. 
“But the world doesn’t stop for you when I come near? It doesn’t feel as if I steal your breath when I hold you like this? Does it feel as if you don’t wish to spend a moment without me?” 
“Love doesn’t always have to—“ 
“But it does — to some extent,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “you imagined your future with him didn’t you? Didn’t even want to spend a moment apart?” And he gives a terse chuckle, “we have to break up,” 
You don’t want it to be true. You want to fight him, argue, convince him he’s wrong, that the explanation he’s pieced before you is falsified — a distorted version of how you felt conflated by misunderstandings. 
But you can’t. 
“Yuta, I—“ and he shakes his head, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t, I didn’t mean—“ your eyes burn with tears, “I’m sorry,” 
He smiles softly, pulling you into his arms, “I knew we had rushed in, but I didn’t want to wait, because I thought I’d lose my chance,” 
“Yu—“ he kisses your cheek, “I do love you, I do,” and he nods, lips curling sadly, before he pulls you into another hug. 
“I know. I love you too.” 
But it wasn’t enough — and it wasn’t right. 
Not for either of you. 
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You don’t know how much time you spent in bed after that. The semester had closed out, and you had curled up under your sheets — seemingly a new tradition you had of ending a semester with a break up. You wondered if graduating would end it — and if it didn’t, you might have to reconsider going for your Ph.D. — if only to avoid this pain again. 
You stick your head up out of your blanket, glancing at the light pooling in from the window — because time went on no matter how you felt, and the sun rose each day, despite it all. 
Yuta had grabbed his things and left a while after. You still could feel the brush of his fingers against your skin as he squeezed your hand one last time. 
“You’re still my best friend,” you had told him, forcing your voice to stay even, and he chuckles, a smile on his lips. 
“You’re still mine too.” 
But even so you hadn’t heard from him in a few days — but you couldn’t blame him. You could only blame yourself. It had become so exceedingly clear that he was right. And you didn’t know how you hadn’t seen it. The anger still lingered, but anger was only the remnants of your love for him that still stubbornly clung to life, despite your efforts to move on. 
But moving on wasn’t as simple as finding feelings for someone else — not when you were only ever truly in love with one person. 
You were still in love with Suguru. 
Despite it all — you hadn’t gotten over him, and you weren’t sure you ever would. If months weren’t enough, would years be? Would you ever get rid of the feelings you had for him, wrapped around your limbs, and had snuck into the crevices of your heart. An invasive species that perhaps you would never eradicate. 
But you couldn’t go back now. Not after everything that happened. Not 
Your phone goes off, lighting up on your bedside table before beginning to ring, your fingers slipping from inside your cocoon of blankets. You grab your phone — Professor Yaga? 
“Hello?” 
He greets you with your name, “I hope you’re doing well — I just wanted to reach out to congratulate you again on your successful defense,” you smile, sitting up as you do. The two of you make small talk as he discusses his recovery, reporting that he’s doing well. 
“Thank you so much Professor Yaga, for everything, really,” and he chuckles. 
“Thank you for being so understanding of my situation — it was difficult, but I’m glad Suguru stepped for in me so well, and I’m sure he’ll do well in Kyoto—“ 
“He’s going back?” the question spills from your lips before you can even hold your tongue, “I didn’t know you were—“ 
“I’m not returning yet, but even if I do, I don’t think I will be returning as a department head. So I gave Suguru the choice to stay department head here or move to Kyoto,” and he adds, “I did give him the choice to stay here or move back to Kyoto,”
And your throat is dry, “Oh I see. That’s good for him,” a silence settles over the call for a moment, before Yaga speaks.
“He hasn’t made a decision yet,” Yaga says, and he’s staying for graduation so if you’d like to thank him in person since I interrupted your conversation, II know on good authority that he’s in his office right now,” and he adds, “it’s not too late if someone were to speak to him now,” 
You blink, “Professor Yaga—“ 
“You’re all but graduated so I’m allowed to say this — I wish you both the best. But I know Suguru has never been happier than when he was with you,” you bite your lip, “so for both of your sakes, you should go talk to him,” 
“Thank you, Professor, for everything.” And you hang up without much to do, grabbing your bag and keys before heading out the door. 
He was right, fingers squeezing around your phone — it’s what you owed him — and yourself. 
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Suguru sat back in his office, finally done with his papers for his philosophy class. The sun had long fled the sky, along with most staff and students. The end of the semester had come quick, and with it came a quiet and deserted campus with nothing but his grade book and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights in his office to keep him company. 
Not that he was craving company. 
He loosened his tie, unbuttoning a button or two on his shirt and on his cuffs, and then rolled his sleeves up. He was insane for still insisting on teaching a class amongst the insanity, though he did have another professor step in to co-teach the course. He didn’t know why he had stuck to that sticking point when it was illogical — but, as he gazed down at the stack of final papers strewn in front of him doused in his red ink, he knew it wasn’t a logical reason. 
He was rifling through the graded stack, adding the scores to his grade book. This semester has been a mixed bag, a mix of grades — from high to low. Some of the papers were insightful, others were clear that they had only taken this class as a course to blow off. But even of all the high graded essays, not one of the papers compared to yours. 
But of course, no one compares to you, and that’s why he needed to leave. He knew that. He wanted you to be happy — even if that didn’t include him. And after this semester, it couldn’t. Being around you was an exercise of torture — Tantalus who had been starving for decades to get a taste of food, only to be hungrier after that morsel. A bite of the apple only makes you want to devour it, core and all. 
It was just as Aristotle had said — desire was made of both rational and irrational, and his longing for you is rooted in the rational — because yes, perhaps his body craved you irrationally and carnally, but that was far overshadowed by the need for you after experiencing you for himself. This self made inducement would be the death of him, and Aristotle himself would call him a fool. 
But he didn’t need him to — because he was. A fool and a coward, just as you said. He sets down his pen, leaning against his hand, as he looks over at the blank reply email to Yaga with his cursor blinking. It would be for the best if he left for Kyoto again. So you didn’t have to see him again. 
And then there was a knock at his office door. He paused, eyes flicking up only to hear your voice through the door, “It’s me,” 
He hates the way his breath catches at the sound of you, heart picking up as his eyes flicker to the somewhat late hour and back. No words on his lips except the one thing he can say. 
“Come in,” 
And you do — you always liked to tease him that he was the one who was unfair when it came to how he looked, but to him, it was you that was unfair. Your hair askew, chest rising and falling quick, clothes a little disheveled and yet, you were always the most gorgeous person he’d met in his life. 
You shift in the entryway of the door, squirming seemingly under his gaze, “Is this a bad time?” 
Time never was in either of your favor, not ones that she found beguiling, except in a way meant to deceive. But time and time again, he allowed himself to be tricked — if only for a moment with you. 
“No, not at all. I just wrapped up grading the final papers,” and you give a soft chuckle, as you close the door behind you, before taking careful steps forward, eyes finding the stack nearly bleeding from his careful cuts and slashes. 
“How many red pens did you use up? Fifty?” 
“Oh, only forty-nine this time, trying to be more conservative with my usage,” and you scoff, more of a chuckle than a sneer, “plus, I didn’t have a student write several pages over the limit this time—“ 
You gape at him, and he has to bite back his smile,  “It was one page, and you said I could,” 
“Bullied into it was more like it,” 
“Don’t know of a case where a student could bully a professor into anything,” 
“They clearly haven’t had you in their classroom,” and then he adds, a soft smile on his lips, “but I suppose I could see them enjoy being bullied by a student as passionate about the subject — even if my office hours suffered for it,” 
“You loved those office hours,” and he wants to say, yes, when you were there — but he can’t. He told himself he wouldn’t cross that line, “and I did too,” you add, and his eyes find yours — but maybe you would cross it instead, “you remember what you said about not being my professor anymore?” 
And he did — all those months ago at the end of the first semester you had spent in class together, and he’s nodding, mouth impossibly dry, “Well I’m as good as graduated, so you’re definitely not my professor, not anymore,” 
Your name slips from his lips, brow furrowed, a question almost, as if it can’t be what your words implied, but you’re shaking your head, as you pull a folded paper from your bag, unfolding it before sliding it across his desk. 
His eyes fall on it, and it’s the note he had written all those months ago — asking you for a drink, and for so much more. He had admired your determination, your wit, your beauty, your intellect, and so many other things he didn’t have space to say — 
“Suguru,” and his eyes find yours, and god, why was it so easy to get lost in your heady gaze? “We had said we didn’t want to hurt each other — but I don’t think that’s something that can be avoided. You hurt me,” and he nods, lips parting ready for an apology, “but I’ll probably hurt you — and I probably have already,” 
“Sweetheart—“ the pet name falls from his mouth as if it’s second nature, “I—“ 
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” and the corner of his eyes burn with tears — is this a dream? Because he swears, it would be the cruelest one so far, “I can’t stop loving you, and I’ve tried to—I’ve tried to move on,” 
“Maybe it would be for the best,” but you’re shaking your head, as you’re slowly rounding his desk, and the truth can’t help but fall from his lips, “I don’t deserve you—“ 
“What did I say about making decisions about us without me?” And he sighs, resistance crumbling as you draw far too close — and he couldn’t bear not to reach out, “you have to take responsibility for your actions, don’t you?” 
“Sweetheart—“ 
“You said you haven’t moved on — is that still true?” 
His fingers reach across the chasm he had carved between the two of you, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw and the swell of your cheek, just he had wanted to for all these months. And just a taste, a brush of your skin, he’d never let you go again. 
“I never could — not from you,” his voice wavers, “every day I missed you — I never wanted to break up with you, I just couldn’t bear to be the reason that you ever hold yourself back from getting something you wanted,” and he gives a bitter chuckle, shaking his head, “who knew I was the one doing that by leaving? And I’m so sorry, I am so—” 
And your forehead pressed against his, his words nearly swallowed with a sob, as he squeezes his eyes shut, tears burning a trail down his cheeks, that you gently thumb away before cupping his cheeks, “I want to hear something other than an apology,” 
His flutter open, lips brushing against your cheek, “I love you, I always have, sweetheart. I never stopped—” his voice breaks, a crack in the dam enough to spill the truth from his lips and tears from his eyes, “and I promise I’ll never break my promises anymore — that’s a contradiction, but—“ and your fingers find purchase on his cheek, consuming the words on his lips with your touch, “I promise, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” 
Your lips curl, eyes watery as you kiss away one of his tears, “Is that a proposal?” you tease, your other hand slides back through his black locks, twisting one strand around your finger, “seems a little fast for that when you haven’t even kissed me properly yet,” 
He snorts softly, clearing his throat ever so slightly, “If memory serves me, we’ve done a lot more than kiss before,” and he’s daring closer, as you lean down, your legs pressed against the lip of his desk, “nearly in this office,” and he’s slipping up from his desk, his breath stolen from his lungs by the whisper of your perfumed skin, and his logic eroded by the heat of your body against his. 
“‘Nearly,’” you repeat with a soft hum, as your lips graze his jaw, “then why don’t we fix that?” your lips find his, a chaste kiss, barely a few seconds when you pull away half a centimeter, and he’s already leaning back in for another and another. 
The familiar feel of your lips against yours makes him wonder how he had survived without you for so long — falling for you was as natural as breathing and kissing you was needed as oxygen. But each kiss only sends jolt over jolt up and down his body, and he wonders if he were to ever stop again, perhaps his heart would too. 
Because all the time he had spent not with you was time spent living — perhaps breathing and existing. But no, he only felt alive when he was at your side — and in your arms. And especially against your lips. Delights in the way your lips part for him like muscle memory, tongue against yours — in a sloppy, desperate kiss that has every ounce of reason sucked from his mind (and likely into your mouth). 
He parts if only for air, a string of spit connecting your lips, that he thumbs away, “If I recall, you had something about me not being very ethical last time we did this,” he remarks, his lips parting before kissing down your jaw, your taste an addiction to his deprived lips — a desert wanderer ready to swallow you whole, “and now here you are,” he’s leaning back, as your hand is splayed back against the wood of his desk, your chest rising and falling, lips kiss bitten red and swollen from his own, “what do you call this?” His finger is toying with the top button of your blouse. 
“A student taking after her teacher,” your lips find his pulse, teeth grazing his skin as if to taunt him, to goad him to go further, but, and his fingers slip behind. your thighs and squeeze no goading was needed — he was ready to devour you. 
And he’s lifting you onto his desk, papers crumpling underneath and pens flung onto the floor, and a gasp caught in your throat as he pins you against it, before tugging his tie off. 
“Looks like I still have plenty to teach you.” 
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“Sugu, fuck,” your fingers thread through his black locks, undone from his bun hy your own hands, your nails digging into his scalp. How long have you been in this office with him now? Half an hour? Almost an hour? Time had lost all meaning to you when he had kissed his way down your body. 
Burning kisses that had stolen your thoughts from your mind and left only him in its wake — how had you lived without him? Your fingers had found their way to the back of his neck, as his lips mapped the peaks and valleys of your neck and collarbone. 
“Fuck,” a gasp parts your lips when his teeth teases the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting again and agin, until he’s left pretty love bites gracing your across your skin. 
And that sharp tongue of his dragged over the marks left blooming on your skin, as if couldn’t simply get enough of you, and he couldn’t. 
“Suguru, please—“ you’re whining already and he barely began, and the all too smug smile against the swell of your breast only told you he thought the same. 
“Patience, Princess, so needy f’me, aren’t you?” But he obliged anyway, fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt. 
And now your blouse was nearly shrugged off, your bra undone with your pert nipples still sticky with his saliva and breasts covered in small marks from his teeth grazing your skin. And now he had tugged your skirt down and off, leaving you only in your underwear. 
“You’re making such a mess on my desk, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, as his large palms slide up your plush thighs and squeeze, drawing a lovely gasp from your lips, before he’s parting your thighs, “but it’s such a pretty mess when it’s you,” and you were so fucking pretty with your legs parted like this, panties translucent from your juices leaking from your dripping folds, even glossy against the wood of his desk now. And he would be sure to make a bigger mess soon enough. 
“Sugu,” your cheeks burn as he stares, your embarrassment melting into a gasp when his fingers drag against your clothed slit teasingly, up and down, so meticulously again and again, until his fingers are sticky with your pre, “ngh, please—“ 
Your plea is enough for him to snap, as he’s tugging your underwear away and off, tucking the ruined panties into his pocket with a glint of his amethyst eyes in the low light of his office. Pretty folds in full display for him, with your swollen clit and glistening slit nearly begging for attention, and he’s more than happy to oblige. 
And he’s running a finger down your lovely folds, gathering precum on his finger, far too slowly for your liking, as he takes his time to circle your clit, “All this just from a few kisses?” lust pools in his gaze with a flicker of amusement, “so sensitive just for me,” your need for him as plain as the juices that seep from your pussy, walls fluttering and aching for something more than the tip of his finger. 
“Suguru, fuck, I can’t,” your toes curl when he finally pities you with a kiss to your needy cunt, nose bumping against your clit teasingly, the friction making your thighs tremble, “please—” 
“Never thought I’d hear my quick witted T.A. beg for me like this, but I have dreamt of it,” you glance down at him, lips glossy with your pre, “I have to make up for time lost, time I wasted without you, princess,” and his thumb rubs at your clit, while his lips press sweet kisses to the flesh of your inner thigh, “it’s what I owe you, isn’t it?” 
“I—” your sentence lost to a moan as he drags the flat of his tongue up your slit, tip of his tongue teasingly lingering around your entrance, and your hips buck into his touch, warm palms coming down to pin you in place against his desk. 
You can barely stifle your moans, fingers flying up to press a hand over your mouth, as the tongue starts to flick and circle your clit, while a lithe finger teases your tight cunt, “I’m not one for sweets, but you may give me a sweet tooth,” and his lips close around your clit, sucking and licking, making your back arch, your arm behind you shaking as it struggled to keep your balance. 
“Fuuuuck, Sugu, I—” you’re panting, head lolling back when he finally sinks a finger into your fluttering walls, the wet squelch of your cunt and your barely contained moans filling up the relative silence of his office, “please—” and a second finger joins the first, a smirk on his lips as he kisses your puffy clit again, a groan when he feels the way your walls clench around his fingers, knuckle deep. 
“Gonna break my fingers at this rate, sweetheart,” he’s grunting, but even so he’s adding a third finger, the stretch far too delicious as it sends stripes of heat up and down your body and right to your spasming cunt, “what are you going to do when I put my cock inside? Our refresher lesson has barely begun,” and he’s enjoying this too much, and when his arms are hooking around your thighs, carefully lying you back on his desk, your hands slipping from his hair, and instead propping himself up on his elbows. 
“Sugu, wh—” and your back arches as he begins to thrust deeper into your cunt, a strangled gasp on your lips that melts into a moan as his lips close around your clit. You can barely make out the obscene noises that leave your lips, as his fingers fuck you open, before he’s sucking hard — once, twice, and then a third time— “I’m—“ 
You can barely find the words before you’re cumming, walls squeezing and fluttering around his fingers while he fucks you through it, lapping at your juices, his name on your lips again and again, until you finally come down from your high. He pulls his fingers away from your twitching pussy, only to bury his face in between your thighs again. 
“Fuuuck, Sugu—“ your moans are broken as your body arches into him, fingers finding purchase on his shoulders, sucking and licking your release eagerly, seemingly hellbent on tasting every inch of you. 
Pretty moans fell from your mouth, muffled as you clasped your hand over your lips, “can’t waste a drop, sweetheart,” he’s slurping and sucking at your cunt, and god, if anyone walked by his office, they would surely hear you both — hear the nasty squelch of your pussy and your barely muffled moans. 
How many times did you orgasm from his tongue alone? You had lost track. Each time he would bring you over the edge with the thrust of his tongue or the suck of his lips, and he would eat you out through it, only building to the next and then the next. 
“Sugu, please, I’m close, fuck—“ and you can’t even hear your own broken voice, not over the lewd sounds of his mouth sucking at your pussy, the coil tight in your stomach and ready to snap, until another hard suck makes you cum, hard.
Your fingers find their way into his hair, clutching at him desperately as you squirt all over his face, drenching him along with his desk, wood sticky and soaked with your release. He’s lapping at your cunt, thighs twitching from your orgasm, until he’s finally pulling away to glance up at you with dark eyes, his chin and mouth glossy with your cum and his spit. His tongue darts out to clean both, before wiping the rest away with the back of his hand, glazed over gaze half lidded with need. 
“S’good for me, Princess,” he’s pressing gentle kisses up your body, “so pliant, and yet you were so mouthy before,” and his lips kiss that mouth of yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, as he presses you further into the desk, his arm slinked around your back. And you’re pulling him just as close, hands grasping at the front of his button-up. 
And then you’re pushing him back, forcing him into his chair, as you get to your feet, before sinking to your knees. His breath catches, eyes watching you — your disheveled appearance, hair half mussed, and skin shiny with sweat, “let me show you how mouthy I can be.” 
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“Imagine someone walked in now, see your pants down for your favorite student,” your tongue trailed up the underside of his clothed cock — and he could nearly cum looking down at you between his thighs, your kiss bitten lips pressing a sweet kiss to the head of his dick, thumbing at the leaking slit, licking your lips at the sight of the large stain of his precum on his cock, “Sugu, you’re so fucking big, can’t wait to feel this inside,” and his length twitches, a grunt in the back of his throat, as your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, snapping the waistband against his sensitive skin. 
And god, he’s fucking pretty like this. Black locks falling in front of his perfectly sculpted cheekbones with a lovely flush settled over his features 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he’s panting, head nearly lolling back against the headrest of his chair, “gonna tease me after this long?” it’s half joking, half pleading, but you’re only clicking your tongue at him. 
“You made me wait much longer, Suguru — made me cry too,” and his gaze softens, lips parted with an apology that fades into a hiss, as you free him from his boxers, erection slapping against his still clothed abs, “but now I’m going to make you cry,” you press a teasing kiss to his weeping tip, flushed red with need, letting his white pearly release paint your lips, “until you’re begging to cum,” 
A strangled gasp caught in his throat, tracing the pretty veins and curves like it was made for you, “You’re so pretty, Sugu — all of this is for me?” Your fingers slowly stroking his length, his moaning music to your ears, as your other hand teasing his balls, “gonna cum down my throat already? Can’t cum this soon,” you cooed, his fingers digging into the armrests of his chair, and yet your fingers squeeze around his base, hips jerking into your touch. 
“Princess, stop teasing—“ his protests had fallen on deaf ears, as you bring your pretty lips to his aching tip, only to trace his slit with the tip of his tongue, salty precum disappearing inside your mouth, and fuck, it’s enough for him to nearly cum there and then, “please,” 
“Didn’t know you could be so polite, Sugu, when begging for your student to swallow your cock,” and finally you let his cock part past your lips, and his head falls back, eyes fluttering shut as your tongue swirls around his length. It was already too much for him — so much, just as you were, your tongue tracing and teasing his dick, while your lips sucked along the base. 
And you weren’t doing much better, the weight of his cock against your tongue makes your cunt ache for him, and sneaking glances at his fucked out form — muffled moans of your name as he covers his lips with the back of his arm, as his dark gaze watches you sink his cock into your mouth again. Your hand is slipping into your throbbing pussy for some relief, as you bob up and down his length. 
But he doesn’t miss it, a groan at the sight of you swallowing his dick whole whole riding your own hand, “Does fucking your mouth feel that good, Princess? Feel that good that you need to touch yourself?” And you’re moaning around his length, vibrations of sending shivers up his spine and a groan of your name from his lips, “So fucking good f’me, Princess — too good for me,” he’s grunting, as you let his tip brush the back of your throat now, making pleasure rip up his body, “sweetheart, please, g’nna fuck your throat if you keep that up,” 
And you ease off, letting his cock slap against your tongue as it slips out, “maybe I want you, Sugu,” you’re kissing and licking along his length, “want you to fuck my smart little mouth,” 
Fuck. 
You’re sliding his cock back in, his hips jerking against you as you let him sink all the way in, tip brushing against your throat again. And fuck, the wet squelch of your fingers inside you breaks him, as he starts to give an experimental thrust, a light one that has you moaning around him. He’s gauging your reaction, only for you to force his length down more, barely not blowing his load there and then, as you look up at him, a smile in your eyes as if you’re daring him. 
And he can’t hold back. 
He’s fucking your mouth, your tongue massaging up and down his length as he thrusts inside your warm mouth, his nails digging into your locks as he holds you flush to his body. The sight of you on your knees, taking his dick as drool and pre drip down your chin, eyes nearly rolling back with pleasure as you do, making his cock twitch in your mouth. 
“That feel that good, Princess? Wanted me to fuck this mouth that bad? I should do it more often if that’s what it takes.” he’s almost drunk off the pleasure, thrusts growing a little rougher as he grows close, “fuck, I’m close, baby, where—“ and your hands are sliding around to his lower back, holding him in place as your answer, “shit, sweetheart, you’re going to be the death of me,” and you suck around him as his tip hits the back of your throat again, and that’s it—
He spills, hot cum flooding your mouth and down your throat, as you both moan in unison, large spurts devolving into smaller ones, as he comes down from his high. You don’t waste a drop, swallowing every bit of it, as you finally pull away from his cock with a pop, the sight of your ruined lips with strings of spit and cum still connecting you to his dick is enough to have it twitching again. 
“Sweetheart, you’re s’good to me,” he’s gently pulling you up into his lap, his fingers running through your hair. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t—“ and you’re cutting him off with a soft kiss that steals the words from his mind, your eyes shiny with tears. 
“You do, you do because I choose you, because I love you, and I know you’re sorry,” you cup his cheek, before lightly pinching it, “and if you ever do anything that stupid again, I’m going to kill you and I’ll be ethically and morally justified,” and he chuckles, burying his face in the crook of your neck to press soft kisses to your skin, before pulling back to look up at you. 
“You have my permission to do that, because if I ever leave my soulmate again — it’s only the consequences of my actions,” and he kisses your forehead, before he presses his to yours, “and I don’t want to live in a world where you’re not by my side,” 
You kiss him slowly, wrapping your arms around him, slowly heat building as the head of his cock bumps against the length of your cunt — the sparks grow into flames, threatening to engulf you both. And you would let them if only for one more second of his touch. 
“Sugu, please, I need you,” you murmur, breathing in his pants as your noses bump, “need you inside me,” he cups your cheek, meeting in another kiss, before you’re lining yourself up, weeping cock bumping against your needy entrance. 
“Are you ready?” You ask, and it’s for more than just this moment, it’s for everything that comes after — for every second that you both get to live together, “our phones are off right?” 
He snorts, “I turned it off when you entered my office,” and you laugh, shaking his head, as he places a kiss behind your ear. 
“I did the same before I came in,” his fingers cup your cheek, as you lean into his warm palm, “just you and me?” You echo from your first time together, and his lips curl into the softest smile. 
“You and me, sweetheart,” and you’re sinking onto him, tip parting your spread folds as your walls swallow him whole, inch by inch, and his fingers grasp at your hips, helping you ease onto his cock, pretty lips parted with a quiet murmur of your name. 
And when he finally bottoms out inside you, he’s almost forgotten how good it felt — pleasure ripping up his spine as your hips are pressed flush to the other, “So deep, Sugu, fuck,” your walls are fluttering around him pulling even deeper, clamping down as if he groans, “I’m gonna move,” you manage between pants. 
You lift up to the tip before slowly beginning to bounce up and down, your moans filling his ears along with the squeaks and rattling of his computer chair. His eyes flutter open only to watch your breasts bounce up and down as you ride him, his hands reaching out to squeeze at the pillowy flesh, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. 
“S’big, fuck, Sugu,” you’re moaning, a mess as you fucked yourself on him, but still not quite deep enough, and he begins to meet your thrusts with his own, making you fall forward holding onto him with a whine as he fucks up into you. The sounds of his balls slapping against your needy cunt ring in your ears, the grunts your pussy pulls from his mouth as he drives himself impossibly deep, “ngh, Sugu, fuck, s’good—,” you’re whining, back arching into his touch, nails digging into his shoulders, “please,” 
“That’s it, take my cock, pretty girl,” he murmurs, “so good for me. So tight, never going to leave this cunt at this rate, baby—“ 
And then they hear a door creak open and close nearby, freezing as they do, heart thumping against your ribs, but your wall flutters all the same, “think they’ll see us like this?” He teases, and his cock twitches in your cunt, “spread out and fucked by your former professor’s cock?” And you know he’s only goading you as the footsteps depart, but your walls squeeze at the thought, “want them to see how good you are for me? How well I’ve taught you to take this cock?” 
And he begins to fuck into you again, pistoning up into you, drawing more moans from your lips. He had taught you every inch and curve and vein of his dick, but this refresher would make sure you’d never forget. 
“Sugu, I’m close, I-“ and his hand is slipping between your bodies to rub at his clit right as his cock hits that spot that has you seeing stars as you cum hard around his cock. He watches the place your bodies meet, a white ring of cum around the base of his cock as your walls flutter around him. 
He fucks you through your orgasm, hips stuttering as he twitches inside you, “fuck, sweetheart, where should I—“ and you’re moaning as you manage to meet his thrust to notch him even deeper as he finally cums. 
His thick ropes paints your walls, as he rocks against you slowly, forcing his cum deeper and deeper, your name leaving your lips again and again — reverent whispers and promises muttered in your ear, as he finally stills underneath you. 
You’re leaning against him, mixed releases surely leaking onto his lap and the chair, both of your quiet pants filling the silence, until he’s breaking it. He kisses your lips again and again, before he stares at you — kiss bruised lips and the pretty sheen of sweat that clings to your skin, “It’s not fair you’re this perfect,” he murmurs, a thumb dragging down your lips, “how would I have ever resisted you?” 
“Luckily, the universe did that for us,” and he huffs a chuckle, “and you,” you add in a small whisper, and he frowns, nodding. 
“I did and I never will again, I promise, sweetheart,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your burning skin, pulling you impossibly closer to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck, “I’m yours — yours to keep, yours to use, yours to love — you have my heart and my soul,” he’s cupping your cheek when you lift your head, “and I’ll never let go, because you’re the only answer to life I need, if you’ll allow to be yours,” 
“You were always mine,” your forehead pressed to his, “that’s never changed, and it never will,” 
“You always one up me, don’t you?” And you roll your eyes. 
“The student has to surpass the master someday, doesn’t she?” his lips curl. 
“Oh you’ve done that a long time ago, Princess,” his lips graze yours again and again, and soon enough you’re shifting on his lap, until the chair buckles under the weight and the seat travels to the bottom of where it’s wheels rested. The two of you are silent a moment, before a giggle escapes your lips, “I think you’ll have to get a new chair,” you murmur, and he’s chuckling, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 
“Why not the chair and the desk?” And you’re blinking before he’s lifting you up, before making you turn, pressing your front flush against the wood of the desk, “and if I’m getting new furniture, I might as well use this to its full capacity, shouldn’t I?” And he’s dragging his erection across your ass, “really make sure it’s broken,”
You gasp, walls fluttering as his tip teased your messy entrance, “don’t you need broken in—“ and he bottoms out in one thrust, as he presses his body against yours, lips pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, before his teeth dig into the sensitive flesh. 
And he smirks as he hears you moan under him, as he soothes the blooming hickey with his tongue, “No, I meant broken, sweetheart.”
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“Suguru!” You called from his bedroom, as he smoothed his hair out in the bathroom mirror, a glance over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, “can you come help me?” 
And how could he refuse? He steps out of the bathroom to only find you struggling with your Hakama. The formal garment hangs uselessly around your front, your brow furrowed and lips pursed. 
He suppresses his laugh, forcing his tone to be even. 
“Does my incredibly brilliant girlfriend need help with her hood?” Your pout is enough for him to nearly break his promise that he wouldn’t kiss you when your makeup was done, but he doesn’t. Instead he takes the offending garment from around your neck, and you cross your arms. 
“I can handle reading Hegel’s works — The Phenomenology of Spirit was irritating but doable,” and you scowl at the Hakama in his hand, “but that thing was made to torture,” 
He snorts, “Consider it your last trial before graduation,” 
“No, my last is seeing if my thesis was peer reviewed and accepted for publication somewhere,” you sigh, “I still have to make the edits—“ 
“That can be a later problem, just focus on the moment right now,” he steps behind you after adjusting the Hakama and tying it around the back and front to secure it, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “and now you look both beautiful and properly dressed,” 
His arms wrap around your waist from behind, “Sugu, we have to leave soon,” 
“Just a minute, just let this sink in,” he kisses the side of your neck, “have I told you how proud I am of you?” 
“Hmm, just about every second of the last few days,” you lean against him, and nothing ever felt so perfect — his arms were the only ones you belonged in. 
And yet, why did that thought also hurt? 
“What is iy, baby?” Suguru murmurs, ever too perceptive as always, “something on your mind,” 
“More like someone,” you mumble, and you’re laying your head against his shoulder, “I can’t help but feel guilty — Yuta and I just broke up and I’m—“ you’re shaking your head, “I’m so happy, and I hate myself for it,” 
Suguru frowns, “I don’t know Yuta well, but I know he did love you, the same way I do, and I can’t speak for him,” but then he’s squeezing your middle, “but as someone who loves you, I’d want you to be with someone who could make could make you happy,” you kiss his head, “and isn’t that why he broke up with you? You both deserve that chance — even if it’s not each other.” 
“When did you get so smart?” and he pulls you impossibly closer, kissing along the neckline of your kimono. 
“Somewhere between my bachelor’s degree and being your professor,” he adds with his lips curled in a smirk, “though I’d err closer to the time of being your professor,” 
Your head against his shoulder, you lean up for a kiss, as he blinks, before melting into your touch, as you pull back with a grin, “it’s ok if I initiate the kiss,” you chuckle when you catch sight of his pout, “don’t worry I’ll be giving you plenty after the ceremony — and maybe something even more than a kiss,” 
“Is that a promise?” And you tug him close, pressing another kiss to his lips — your lips were already smudged, so why hold back. 
“Always, for you.” 
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Yuta knew it was for the best. 
It had been a few weeks that he spent mourning his relationship — but he knew that it was the right choice for him. He had chased after you, it felt as if he was dogging your every step, waiting for you to notice him. And when you did, he still felt as he was your second choice — and that he would live in Geto’s shadow for the entirety of the relationship. 
And he didn’t want that. He didn’t deserve that — and neither did you. More than anything, he wanted you to be happy — even if that wasn’t with him. 
It was for the best. 
And the start to the new semester just proved that. He was starting his final year of his program, he had become the head of the student government (after Maki decided to step down to a more administrative role to focus on her degree), and he had even become a teacher’s assistant to one of his favorite professors. He didn’t have time to focus on a relationship, not when he should be focusing on his future. 
He entered the classroom that day, a little early on his professor’s request to set up the classroom with handouts, only to bump into someone, papers spilling from his hands. 
“Sorry, I—” he leans down to pick up the dropped papers, before glancing up and finds himself looking at just that—
His future. 
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A few months later. 
“You’re late,” Suguru Geto remarks, as he shows you his watch on his wrist — the very one you had bought him for his birthday a few weeks before, “but I should expect that by now, shouldn’t I?”
You give a guilty grin, as you find your way to his side, sliding your hands up around his neck, “Yes you should, especially when your girlfriend is a very important lecturer who was kept by all her students — jealous?” 
And he chuckles, his hair tied up in a half bun as usual, your fingers toying with a strand again, before he’s lacing with fingers with yours to press a kiss to the back of your hand, “Very — because your students are stealing my time with my very intellectual girlfriend,” and he leans down to press a kiss to the hollow of your throat, “it sounds like it was a success — I knew it would be,” he adds, “but someone else wasn’t so sure,” 
You roll your eyes playfully, “Yes, yes, you were right — the students found my work interesting, or at least interesting enough not to fall asleep and ask questions—” 
“High praise,” and your lips curl into a smile, “What?” 
“I love you,” he grins back at you, a chuckle on his lips, as he leans down to capture them, his smile apparent against you, as he parts from you, a heat still present in the pit of your stomach, a need for him burning as it always was, “I love you so much, Suguru,” 
“I love you too, princess,” he’s rubbing his thumb back and forth against the length of your cheek, “Good thing too because otherwise, moving in together would be more than a little awkward,” and you pout, and he’s laughing before kissing you again and again, until he’s kissing your pout away with a languid kiss that has you melting into his grasp — breathless when he pulls away, lips utterly kiss ruined and red, “they should be calling us into the viewing soon,” he bites his lip,and you’re nodding reluctantly if only considering whether if you could sway him for another few moments alone. Instead you settle for burying your face in the crook of his neck, lips brushing against his leaping pulse, “you’re sure about moving to Kyoto? I had only chosen Kyoto to give you space—” 
You cut him off with a glance up and a raised eyebrow, “You’re the one who said I could choose, and I chose Kyoto because not only is it a good opportunity for you here to build your reputation as the department head, but because it’s a fresh start for us,” 
His fingers lace with yours, “Well if they keep asking you to lecture in Tokyo, you might develop a commute,” and you roll your eyes, before shrugging. 
“I can handle it,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as I'm coming home to you.” 
“And a cat or a poodle,”and you light up, grinning even wider, “we should ask if they allow pets,” 
“Really? We can—” 
“I heard poodles are a good choice of pet,” and you’re leaning up to kiss him, arms wrapping around his neck, “I made an appointment for at an adoption center after this,” 
“Mr. Geto?” a person comes out of the leasing office, “we’re ready for you both,” 
And you pull away, your fingers interlacing with yours and squeezing his hand, “Are you ready?” 
His lips curl in a smile, “I think we owe it to ourselves, don’t we? Especially they agreed to take us for our viewing after you were late,” 
And you chuckle, as the two of you made your way inside, “I swear you’re going to leave without me one of these days if I’m late enough,” 
“No, I’d never do that. I’ll always wait for you, sweetheart,” he holds the door open for you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “we have all the time in the world after all.” And you grin at him as you walk past him, his fingers reaching into his pocket. 
He had found out his answer to life — watching you greet and speak with the agent, before glancing back at him with a small smile and tilt of your head — his fingers toy with the ring box in his pocket— 
And now he just needed to know yours.  
END. 
Yuta’s own love story will be coming after Professor Gojo’s! 
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✧a/n: wow i'm still in disbelief i finished this series. this is my first series on tumblr, and i truly hope you all enjoyed. this part was wayyyy longer than i expected. but i hope i did the series justice.
✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @difficultdomains, @diogodxlot, @that-goth-bisexual, @dazailover1900, @aliyalala @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @lalacute03
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ikeucity · 26 days
Text
brought the heat back. | chapter one - the alphas' claim
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pairings. omegaverse!au ot7 x reader warning. contains heat, rutting, extreme jealousy, obsession, emotional intensity, explicit sexual content, slow-burn, omegaverse!au, explores themes of power dynamics, omega submission, alpha dominance, scenting, manipulation, unprotected sex, knotting, creampies, and non-consensual elements. reader discretion is strongly advised. mdni. wc. 20k+
in a world where instincts rule, you're an omega thrust into the role of housemother for enhypen—a group of seven alphas. what was meant to be a simple assignment turns into a delicate dance of control and desire, as you struggle to maintain your composure while the alphas slowly break down your walls. every interaction is laced with tension, every glance a spark, building up to moments that almost cross the line. a story of power, temptation, and the fine line between duty and desire, leaving you—and the alphas—wondering how much longer you can resist.
⚠ disclaimer: this story is a work of fiction and does not represent real-life events or the members of enhypen.
© inspired by enha's bthb.
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the day had finally arrived.
the day your father had decided, without your consent, that you would become enhypen's omega. it was a decision he'd made with a cold, calculating logic that left you feeling like a pawn in his game.
"it's the perfect arrangement," he'd said, his voice smooth and persuasive, as if he were selling you a new car instead of your life. "they're a rising group, destined for greatness. you, my dear, are the key to their success."
you'd tried to argue, to explain that you weren't some prized possession to be bartered away, but his words had been like a wall, impenetrable and unyielding. "it's for your own good," he'd insisted, his eyes cold and distant. "you'll be protected, taken care of. and besides, you'll be their housemother, a stabilizing presence in their lives."
you knew he was talking about the scent, the undeniable pull of an alpha's pheromones, the way they could make your body sing and your mind spin. you knew the dangers, the potential for loss of control, the way your omega instincts could take over, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.
but you also knew the thrill, the way an alpha's touch could send shivers down your spine, the way their scent could make you crave their attention. you weren't exactly a saint when it came to alphas, but your father's iron grip on your life had always kept you in check.
your father, however, had always been obsessed with control, with ensuring that you never fell prey to the intoxicating allure of an alpha's scent. he didn't want you to experience the "special" connection he spoke of.
he wanted you to be a mother figure, a calming presence, not a lover.
that's why he'd insisted on the specialized necklace, a silver chain that glinted subtly against your skin. it was a subtle yet powerful measure to ensure that you could navigate the complexities of living with multiple alphas without succumbing to the intoxicating pull of their scents.
it was a constant reminder of his control, a symbol of the power he held over your life.
and now, here you were, standing before the new flat, its pristine walls and clean scent of fresh paint and disinfectant signaling a new chapter. a chapter that had been written for you, not by you.
as you walked through the open floor plan, your eyes caught glimpses of the details that made this place special.
the kitchen, with its gleaming marble countertops, seemed almost luminous under the light streaming in through the tall windows. it was the kind of kitchen that begged to be filled with the clatter of pans, the sizzling of food, and the warmth of shared meals.
the living room flowed naturally from the kitchen, an inviting expanse of space with plush couches that seemed to promise evenings of relaxation. you walked to the full-length glass windows and looked out, the sprawling cityscape unfurling before you.
the view was mesmerizing, a mixture of towering buildings and patches of greenery that gave the city its unique charm. the sunlight wrapped around you, creating a cocoon of warmth and anticipation.
today, everything hinged on meeting the seven alphas who would share this space with you.
you sat down on one of the plush couches, fingering the cool silver pendant thoughtfully. the flat was silent except for the steady hum of your thoughts.
each passing minute brought you closer to meeting your new flat mates, and your curiosity about their scents and reactions grew with each tick of the clock.
the necklace was more than just a suppressor; it was a tool that allowed you to engage with the alphas on your own terms. it tempered the potent chemistry that could otherwise lead to overpowering, uncontrollable urges and mind-blowing sex.
your thoughts wandered to how they would perceive you, whether they’d notice the necklace for what it truly was or dismiss it as just another piece of jewelry.
you wondered how your controlled scent would blend with the natural fragrances that these alphas would bring into the flat.
would they sense the latent undertones of your scent trying to break free, or would it remain masked under the necklace’s suppressing charm?
boy, were you curious.
the reflection in the vanity mirror showed you a person eager yet apprehensive. your simple oversized hoodie and loose shorts ensemble was meant to project casual confidence, but you felt a flicker of self-doubt.
you let your hair loose, hoping it would make you look more approachable, more at ease.
just then, you noticed that your pendant looked dull, with slight traces of oxidization and dirt. a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. you quickly darted into your bathroom to find some baking soda and a cloth, intent on making it shine again.
the last thing you wanted was to appear careless, especially on such an important day.
as you carefully scrubbed the pendant, the scent of vanilla began to fill the small bathroom. your natural aroma, normally subdued by the necklace, now permeated the air.
you'd be fucked if they were actually here, aware of how strong your scent could be.
you shake your head, brushing away the negative thoughts as you hasten to finish cleaning.
unbeknownst to you, the sounds of luggage wheels and sneakers have abruptly stopped just outside the flat's door while you remained oblivious to the vulnerable position you were in.
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"i'm sick of this," jay grumbles, frustration clear in his voice as he stands by the door of their new flat, rummaging through his pockets for the key. the crisp evening air carries the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers, a stark contrast to the tension hanging between them. "assigning us another housemother after the fuck-up from last time..."
"what do you mean, 'fuck-up'?" jungwon asks, curiosity piqued.
jay scoffs, his voice laced with sarcasm. "remember that last one, the one who was supposed to be a professional omega? yeah, she turned out to be a total psycho. always sneaking around, trying to get into our rooms, even when we were there. it was creepy as hell."
jungwon's eyes widen in disbelief. "she was trying to seduce all of you?" he clearly recalls being ignored by her. not that he cared, as long as she was doing her job, he didn't really need anything else from her.
"not just seduce," jay explains, shaking his head. "she was trying to get us to sign some crazy contract that would make her our permanent omega. she even tried to slip something into our drinks one night. it was a total nightmare."
jungwon chuckles, finding the situation oddly humorous. "i can't believe i missed all that. she always avoided me like the plague. guess i should be thankful for that."
"you were the lucky one," jay mutters, rolling his eyes. "the rest of us had to deal with her constant hovering and manipulative tactics."
"wow, that's messed up," jungwon says, his voice low. "i can't believe she tried to manipulate you guys like that."
"yeah, it was a total disaster," jay says, his frustration returning. "that's why i'm not exactly thrilled about having another housemother. i'm hoping this one is actually a professional and not some crazy stalker."
jungwon glances around, trying to lighten the mood. "well, at least this place looks amazing. maybe this time it'll be different."
"let's hope so," jay says with a sigh. "i'm just hoping we can actually get some peace and quiet around here."
sunghoon chimes in, a playful smirk on his face. "you know, the worst part wasn't even the creepy stalker vibes. it was her scent. it smelled like… burnt cabbage and old socks. i swear, i almost fainted every time she was near."
"oh god, i remember that," jake adds, his face contorting in mock disgust. "it was like she'd been rolling around in a dumpster before she came to work."
"at least she was good at cleaning," heeseung says, trying to be diplomatic. "her cooking was… questionable, but she kept the place spotless."
"yeah, but she was way too suffocating," sunoo complains, fanning himself uselessly with a small electric fan. "it was like she was trying to smother us with her… intense… affection."
"intense affection, huh?" jay laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "more like intense desperation."
"she was like a moth drawn to a flame, but the flame was us," niki adds, his voice laced with amusement. "and she was the moth."
"okay, okay, enough with the moth analogies," jungwon says, chuckling. "let's just hope this new housemother is a little less… intense."
"and hopefully her scent isn't as bad as burnt cabbage and old socks," sunghoon adds, earning a chorus of laughter from the rest of the group.
"speaking of housemothers, how does this whole system even work?" jake asks, his curiosity piqued. "i mean, we're idols, we're busy, we're stressed. why do we need an omega living with us?"
"it's a bit of a weird system, honestly," heeseung says, leaning against the doorframe. "the idea is that omegas are supposed to be calming presences, a source of comfort and stability. they're not necessarily there to mate with us or breed us, although that can happen sometimes. it's more about the emotional and physical connection."
"so, like, a big, cuddly teddy bear?" sunoo asks, his eyes wide.
"pretty much," heeseung says with a laugh. "it's supposed to help us manage the stress of being idols, the constant pressure, the lack of personal space. it can be tough, you know? being an idol is tough enough, but the sexual frustration is hell."
"yeah, we haven't had an omega in a while," jay says, his voice turning serious. "it's been a long time since we've had someone to… you know… fuck."
"i can imagine," jungwon says, his eyes filled with sympathy. "it must be hard to keep your urges in check."
"it's not easy," jay admits. "but we're professionals, we handle it. still, it's nice to have someone around who can provide some comfort and support."
"comfort and support, my ass," jake mutters under his breath. "what we really need is a good, hard fuck."
"don't be so crude, jake," sunghoon says, rolling his eyes. "we're not animals."
"speak for yourself," jake retorts with a smirk. "i'm a man with needs."
"yeah, and those needs are definitely getting neglected," niki adds, his voice filled with a hint of frustration. "it's been months since i've had a proper heat."
"i know, right?" sunoo says, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "i'm starting to think i'm going to turn into a werewolf if i don't get some action soon."
"don't worry, sunoo," jay says with a playful grin. "we'll find you a nice omega. someone who can handle your… intense… needs."
"oh, i'm sure i can handle it," sunoo says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"hey, i'm just trying to be supportive," jay says with a shrug.
"well, let's hope this new housemother is a good one," sunghoon says, his voice laced with a hint of hope. "someone who can actually help us relax and unwind."
"and someone who doesn't smell like burnt cabbage and old socks," niki adds, earning another round of laughter from the group.
jake, however, remains skeptical. "honestly, i think it's gonna be worse having an omega around. either we won't like her, or we'll want to mate with her. there's no in-between."
jungwon sighs, shaking his head. "let's at least give her a chance before we jump to conclusions."
"wow, this place looks amazing," jungwon comments, his eyes gleaming with interest as he surveys the surroundings. despite being farther from hybe, the secluded location promises better privacy for him and the rest of the members.
"do you think we'll each get our own room?" he asks, his excitement barely contained.
"god help us if we have to room with jay again," sunghoon teases, earning a playful glare from jay and laughter from everyone else.
"it's boiling out here," sunoo complains, fanning himself uselessly with a small electric fan. sweat trickles down his back, causing his clothes to cling uncomfortably.
silently, niki offers him some tissues, which sunoo gratefully uses to wipe his forehead.
growing impatient, jake casts an irritated glance at jay, who is still fumbling with the key while trying to balance his camera and a small bag. jake's frustration shows in his tapping foot, his smile faltering slightly.
"what's taking so long?!" he groans, frustration softened by a grin. the weight of their luggage is getting to him, and he is eager to get inside and relax.
heeseung, sensing jake's impatience, tries to stifle a laugh at his friend's antics.
in his typical, unintentional comedic style, jake decides to take matters into his own hands. with a dramatic groan, he pretends to force the door open, twisting the doorknob as if attempting to break in.
his eyes widen in surprise as the door unexpectedly swings open with a loud thud, the doorknob hitting the wall.
the sudden noise startles everyone, but jake bursts into laughter at the unexpected turn of events. "well, that's one way to make an entrance," he chuckles, stepping inside with a grin.
"it was unlocked the whole time?" sunghoon remarks cautiously, eyeing the open door before carefully stepping inside. he surveys the surroundings, a hint of surprise on his face.
their eldest member, the ever-composed heeseung, remains unfazed by the unlocked door. he places his duffel bag on the kitchen counter, already making himself at home. "weren't we supposed to meet our housemother here? what if she's already inside?" heeseung comments, looking around the living room as he casually grabs an apple from a bowl on the table. he nods approvingly at the space, clearly impressed.
the rest of the group is equally taken with the place. sunoo finds a spot near the window, entranced by the scenic view and busy taking photos and selfies. the soft light filtering through the curtains casts a warm glow on his face, perfect for his snaps.
jungwon and jay work together to drag the luggage into the living room, while jake and sunghoon take a moment to relax on the sofa, clearly needing a break after the journey. the plush cushions sink under their weight, offering a much-needed respite.
"you know, that last housemother was actually really scared of jungwon," jake said, chuckling. "she would always avoid him, like he was some kind of monster."
"yeah, i remember that," sunoo added, his eyes widening in amusement. "she would literally run away whenever he got near her."
"i guess she didn't know how scary jungwon can get," jay said, his voice laced with a hint of teasing.
"what do you mean?" jungwon asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "i'm not scary."
"oh, you're not scary?" jay said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "you're just the quiet, unassuming one who can stare a hole through someone with his eyes."
"yeah, and you always seem to know exactly what everyone is thinking," sunghoon added, his voice filled with a hint of awe. "it's kind of creepy, to be honest."
"i'm just good at reading people," jungwon said with a shrug. "it's a skill i've developed over the years."
"a skill that has clearly intimidated some poor, unsuspecting housemother," heeseung said, his voice laced with amusement.
"i guess she didn't realize that i'm actually a pretty nice guy," jungwon said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement.
niki's excited voice echoes through the hallway as he counts the bedrooms. "eight! hyung! we each get our own rooms. there are eight bedrooms and two baths."
"for real?" jungwon's eyes widen with excitement, and he quickly mumbles an "i have to see this" to jay before darting off to explore. jay, amused by jungwon's enthusiasm, chuckles and waves him off, easily managing the luggage.
as jungwon opens the bedroom doors one by one, niki follows along, both mentally noting which rooms they prefer. the scent of fresh paint and new furniture fills the air, adding to their excitement.
"ah, sunoo would love this room," niki points out, noticing a room with plenty of mirrors, a feature sunoo appreciates. he then heads off to find sunoo, leaving jungwon to continue his exploration alone. the sound of their laughter and playful banter fills the flat, a promising start to this new chapter.
jungwon's cat-like eyes land on a slightly ajar metal door, piquing his curiosity. he has deduced they aren't alone in the house, and the earlier incident with the unlocked door only confirms his suspicions.
he also recalls being briefed about meeting their housemother upon arrival.
smart, perceptive, and a bit nosy, jungwon pushes the heavy door open with silent steps, ready to greet the new member of their household.
the weight of the door surprises him momentarily, stirring a fleeting thought about the possibility of their housemother being male. such arrangements aren't unheard of, especially given past experiences.
he doesn't question it further, despite the metal door sticking out like a sore thumb.
entering the dimly lit room, jungwon takes a moment to appreciate the neatness before an overwhelming scent of vanilla invades his senses. it was very subtle, but it was definitely there.
it smelled really good.
the room is small but well-kept, with a minimalist aesthetic that speaks to a sense of order and control. a few carefully chosen items adorn the space: a framed photo on the nightstand, a stack of books on a small shelf, a potted plant in the corner. it's clear that the person who lives here values simplicity and functionality.
jungwon's gaze drifts towards the closed bathroom door, where the faint sound of running water can be heard. he knows he should leave, that he's literally breaking into someone's private space, but something holds him back. a strange mix of curiosity and anticipation.
he takes a step closer, his senses heightened, his body reacting to the intoxicating aroma that hangs in the air, getting stronger and stronger. it's not the burnt cabbage and old socks of the previous housemother, nor the dumpster smell that had made him gag.
this scent is different, something entirely different.
it's like the finest delicacy any alpha could have, a sweet, creamy vanilla that whispers promises of pleasure and indulgence.
jungwon's breath hitches, his heart pounding in his chest. he's never encountered an omega scent this potent, this alluring. it's like a siren song, drawing him in, tempting him to succumb to the primal urges that surge through his veins.
he wants to run, to warn the others that their housemother is actually here, but his feet seem rooted to the spot.
he's trapped, captivated by the aroma, his senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating vanilla that surrounds him.
"uh, hello?" he calls out, his voice barely a whisper.
silence.
he takes a step closer, his gaze fixed on the closed bathroom door. the sound of running water continues, a steady rhythm that seems to echo his own racing heartbeat.
"is anyone there?" he asks again, his voice a little louder this time.
still, silence.
he can't help but feel a surge of excitement, a thrill that courses through his veins. he's never been this close to an omega with a scent this powerful.
he takes another step closer, his senses on high alert. he can feel the heat rising in his body. he wants to push open the bathroom door, to see who is behind it, to see the person responsible for this intoxicating scent.
"hello?" he calls out again, his voice now laced with a hint of urgency.
the sound of the running water suddenly stops.
and then it hits him like a sharp slap to the face, the scent of vanilla, amplified, intensified, a wave of pure sweetness that crashes over him, leaving him breathless, his senses reeling.
jungwon's eyes widen.
"fuck," he whispers, his voice rough with desire.
his alpha instincts are screaming at him, telling him that this omega is his, meant for him, destined to be his mate. he can already imagine the feel of her soft skin against his, the taste of her sweet nectar on his tongue, the way she'll arch her back as he claims her, knots her, makes her his.
"god, i'm so hard," he mutters, his hand instinctively reaching for his pants, a desperate attempt to soothe the growing ache in his groin.
he knows he should leave, knows he should respect her privacy, but the primal part of him, the alpha within, refuses to be ignored. the scent is too powerful, too alluring, and he's too far gone to turn back now.
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your heart races as you freeze, hearing a muffled "hello" from outside the bathroom door. the cloth in your hand is long forgotten, the one you were using to dry your necklace.
you were freaking out.
they weren't supposed to be here yet.
you knew you had like an hour at best, that's why you grew complacent. if only it wasn't a pain in the ass being so heavy, you would've shut the damn metal door to your room.
the scent of cinnamon invades your senses, making every nerve in your body tingle with anticipation. your knees threaten to buckle under the overwhelming desire coursing through you, hands gripping the sink to balance yourself, pussy slicking up as if preparing your body to submit to the alpha that offered this scent.
heat radiates from your body, intensifying with each passing moment. you rub your thighs together, seeking some kind of relief.
you hear muffled speech from behind the door that you can't really make out.
tongue tied, you find it hard to speak, hands shaking as you try to take a step back, gasping at your pathetic and flushed reflection in the mirror and end up dropping the necklace with a light thud.
your eyes were going blurry from the sensory overload making you panic even more.
it was the first time you felt so weak, dropping to your knees you desperately tried to look for the necklace despite seeing your surroundings spin.
the hunger in your stomach is almost feral, demanding to be sated by the source of that delightful aroma. but you fight against it, knowing the consequences could be severe.
you really hated your father right now.
this must only be one of the men you were supposed to care for, and he smells like a damn bakery. if things were different, you'd have no issue busting your door wide open for him to come in and take you.
but you can't, god you fucking can't.
you were a complete mess, your face flushed and sweaty as you desperately look for an escape. but you almost reel as you feel his scent grow stronger, heart dropping as you now see the shadow of a figure under the crack of the door.
the alpha stands on the other side, his mouth watering at the scent of your arousal. he could tell his scent was affecting you too, he could smell you leaking for him.
jungwon attempts to lean closer, the door being the only barrier that stopped him from getting to experience you.
"fuck, i can smell you," he groans, his voice filled with desire. he inhales deeply, biting his lip to hold back the moans.
"i want to see you, can i? i'm jungwon." his voice, god, his voice was perfect.
you bite your lip hard, inching away from the door and to the corner of the bathroom, mind buzzing as you do everything to try to resist the temptation.
"you're wet, aren't you? come on out and play with me, bunny," he growls, his voice dripping with lust. the way he announced that he could smell your arousal made you whimper in a mix of embarrassment and need.
"n-no," you squeak, your throat tight. "um, can you give me a moment?"
your whimpers drive him wild, he rolls his eyes at your voice, in each way it cracked, desperately trying to appear composed.
he huffs in frustration, twisting the doorknob but it was fucking locked, he holds back the urge to punch the door.
with a closed fist just as he swings, he lets out a disgruntled sigh as he grits his teeth. “please,” he mutters, the locked door refusing to budge.
"please, let me in," he begs, almost desperate. his voice makes your knees weak, and you slide to the floor, the cold tiles numbing your senses.
"i'm sorry but i can't. you need to get away... your scent is too much." you whimper, voice cracking in desperation.
hearing you, he slams his fist against the door, making the hinges rattle. his scent amplifies even more and you didn't know it was possible, filling the air until it overwhelms your senses to the point you were seeing white.
tears brim in your eyes as your slick drips down your thighs.
you teeter on the edge, torn between restraint and surrender, unsure what awaited you on the other side of that door.
you were screwed.
this was not the type of welcome you wanted to give them.
you were not a stranger to alpha's being affected by your extremely potent pheromones, but it had been a very long time since you had equally been affected this bad.
in different circumstances, you would be thanking the lords above for having such an appetizing alpha be in your midst, his scent was mouthwatering.
you could only imagine how mind-blowing the sex would be like.
but your father's words echo in your mind, a stern warning that keeps you rooted to your spot. despite being briefed beforehand of the boys you were to care for, there were still rules set in place.
no matter how badly you or they wanted it.
before you can gather your thoughts, the heavy, rhythmic pounding on the door intensifies, mirroring the rapid beat of your heart. each thud reverberates through the room, echoing the alpha's growing impatience and barely contained desire.
"please," his voice carries a rumbling need that makes your skin prickle. "i won't hurt you. i just want to see you, and meet you. i'm the leader, sorry for scaring you." despite his calm tone, you noticed how it held a twisted undertone, your instincts going haywire, it really was best that you trusted it, because behind that door was a devilish smirk on jungwon's face.
so you remained hidden.
despite your body's yearning, a sliver of rationality keeps you sane. you clutch at the cool tiles, willing them to ground you against the scorching wave of pheromones that floods the room.
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sunghoon languidly stretches out on the plush sofa, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. the plush velvet cushions sink beneath his weight, and he lets out a contented sigh.
“man, i’m starving. i can’t wait for our housemother to whip us up a meal. god, i hope she knows how to cook,” he muses aloud, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.
jake, sprawling on his stomach beside him, chuckles at the thought. he rubs his face against the linen and yawns loudly, playfully kicking sunghoon’s leg as he stretches his own limbs, still feeling the lingering fatigue of their journey.
the scent of fresh laundry and a faint hint of pine from the air freshener mingles with the lingering aroma of the road, a mix that reminds him of home.
as jake buries his face deeper into the cushion you had vacated moments ago, a faint but inviting scent of vanilla invades his senses, igniting something primal within him.
"what the hell?" jake gives sunghoon a confused look, deep in thought.
he swore he smelt something good.
first, he was utterly confused, yet now he finds himself on all-fours, nose burying deep into the fabric, searching for that scent that tickled his nose. it looked hilarious, quite frankly.
he was trying to smell more of you.
his mouth waters, and without a second thought, he licks the spot on the cushion, groaning softly as he chases that tantalizing smell. his arousal is unmistakable, his length straining against the denim of his jeans.
sunghoon looks at him in utter shock.
“but it smells so fucking good,” jake murmurs, momentarily lost in the scent that lingers in the linen. the sensation is so intense that it sends shockwaves through his entire body, leaving him aching and desperate for more.
his brothers can’t help but notice the sudden shift in atmosphere, as jake’s pheromones blend with his aroused state, it's a potent mix that makes their noses crinkle slightly.
“dude,” heeseung laughs, shaking his head, though his shoulders tense, “stop releasing your scent. you’re gonna make me throw up.”
“you like that? sniffing the sofa like a dog?” sunghoon teases, earning a playful shove from jake.
“hey, i’m just trying to get a whiff of our new housemother,” jake retorts, his voice laced with a hint of seriousness. “she smells amazing.” he inhales deeply again, a dreamy look on his face and this time piquing sunghoon’s curiosity.
“wait, you’re serious?” sunghoon raises an eyebrow. “you think it’s her?”
“she’s the only omega in the house,” jake replies, his voice growing serious. “there’s no mistaking it. it’s her scent.”
“come on, jake,” sunghoon says with a chuckle. “you know being bitchless makes your nose a little oversensitive.”
“i’m not fucking around, man,” jake says, his voice growing serious.
“i’ve got a good nose for omegas. i know what i’m smelling.” he leans back into the sofa in a relaxed position, sitting down properly beside sunghoon.
“there’s no mistaking it,” jake continues, his eyes darkening slightly. “it’s the kind of scent that makes you want to protect and claim. it’s driving me nuts. bet she's hella cute.”
“well, looks like we need to be careful,” heeseung interjects, his voice taking on a serious note. “if she smells as good as you say she is, we can’t just go around acting on our instincts.”
“yeah, yeah, i know,” jake mutters, though his eyes still hold that primal glint. “but i'm telling you now, it’s not gonna be easy.”
“especially not with you acting like a lovesick pup,” sunghoon smirks, earning a glare from jake.
“shut up, sunghoon,” jake grumbles, though there’s no real heat in his words. “let’s just hope she’s a good cook, like you said. maybe that’ll distract me.”
“or maybe you’ll just end up sniffing around the kitchen,” sunghoon laughs, the tension easing as the group falls back into their usual banter.
“try it,” jake gestures to the sofa, and everyone looks at him in slight disgust.
“after you got your slobber all over it? no. you’re a goddamn weirdo,” sunoo sassily replies.
“okay, okay, we get it, she smells good, whatever,” jay says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i still think you're just being extra.”
“yeah i’m just glad she doesn’t smell like a dumpster,” heeseung jokes, earning laughter from the others, propping up his legs to rest against the coffee table, slumping back in the sofa chair.
heeseung tries to push the image of the last housemother out of his mind. her scent had been a constant assault on his senses, a cloying mix of burnt cabbage and old socks. he’d found himself constantly holding his breath whenever she was around, and he’d been relieved when she’d finally left.
heeseung couldn't help but feel a little uneasy.
jake was usually the most level-headed of them all when it came to omegas. he was the one who always kept his head straight, even when surrounded by the most potent scents.
but now, he was acting like a lovesick puppy, sniffing the sofa like it was a new toy.
“you’re going to have to get your head straight, jake,” sunghoon says, his voice firm. “we can’t let this omega turn us into a bunch of hormonal messes.”
“i know,” jake says, his voice a little subdued. “i just… can’t help it. she smells so good, i'm telling you guys just a small whiff and you'll know what i mea-"”
“or maybe, you’re just being a drama queen,” heeseung adds with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
“yeah, man, you’re probably overreacting,” sunghoon says, giving jake a reassuring pat on the back.
their conversation is abruptly interrupted as an overwhelming wave of their leader’s pheromones sweeps through the room. the heady mix of cinnamon, musk, and arousal has everyone snapping their heads toward the source, their instincts kicking into high gear, hearts pounding with a mixture of dread and excitement.
heeseung feels a familiar tightness in his chest. jungwon’s scent, even when not directed at anyone in particular, always had a way of making him feel a little off-kilter.
"jungwon, knock it off," heeseung yells, hoping his younger member could hear him, shielding his face with his hand. "you’re giving me a headache."
"you guys always overdo it," sunghoon complains, nose crinkling at the mixture of jungwon and jake's pheromones thick in the air. "it’s like you’re trying to knock us all out with your scents."
a subtle bang echoes from a distance making everyone flinch and straighten up.
niki, who was usually so calm and collected, felt a surge of panic. he could sense the tension in the air, and he could smell the desperation in jungwon’s scent.
he knew that something was wrong, and he knew that it was going to get worse before it got better. it was a gut-feeling.
niki’s eyes darted to the hallway, he could smell the faintest hint of vanilla, mingling with the cinnamon and musk of jungwon’s scent. it was a very sweet yet overwhelming combination, and it was making his head spin.
niki knew that he had to do something, but he didn’t know what.
he was just a young alpha, and he had never experienced anything like this before. he felt helpless, trapped in the middle of a storm that he couldn’t control.
the rest of the group exchange concerned looks, wrestling with uncertainty—except for jake, who remains laser-focused, his entire being thrumming with adrenaline and want.
"where the hell is he?" heeseung asks, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance. "i can smell him all over the place, but i don't see him."
jake’s eyes narrow as he takes in the lingering scent of cinnamon, mixed with the faint but unmistakable aroma of vanilla.
he puts the pieces together, a cold realization dawning on him.
"he's with her," jake growls, his voice low and dangerous. "he got to her first."
"what?" jay exclaims, his eyes widening in disbelief. "he wouldn't-"
"i know it," jake says, his jaw tightening.
with a fierce determination, jake races toward the closed metal door, his mind singularly focused on getting to where jungwon was.
"jakey boy said she smelled amazing," sunghoon stands up from his seat, "so let me confirm what got his balls in a twist," sunghoon explains to a perplexed sunoo who was beyond confused at the turn of events, his gaze fixed on the damp spot where jake had been sniffing.
he eyes it warily, not sure what to expect.
driven by curiosity, sunghoon crouches down, a mix of intense disgust and anticipation on his face as he reluctantly leans closer to get a whiff. the moment he inhales, his heart pounds rapidly, each beat echoing through his body, leaving him breathless.
his expression turns unreadable as he processes the revelation that's torn his world apart.
"holy shit," he murmurs, eyes wide with a mix of shock and something deeper, something primal.
seeing sunghoon's reaction, the others swarm around him, one by one leaning in to catch a whiff of the intoxicating scent, each of them reacting with varying degrees of disbelief and arousal.
"shit, he's right," jay breathes out, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and confusion.
"this is insane," sunoo mutters, shaking his head as if to clear it, but the scent lingers, wrapping around his senses like a vice.
"wow, that's something," niki says, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination.
heeseung, however, remains in deep thought, his mind racing as he tries to think of a way to calm the situation down. 
"it's safe to say we're fucked," sunghoon declares, his words slicing through the air like a blade, sending a ripple of shock and surprise through the group, hearts pounding even harder. "no way in hell am i- can we hold ourselves back if she smells that good."
"what?" heeseung's voice is laced with bewilderment and a rising urgency as he shoves sunghoon aside, the scent hitting him like a tidal wave the moment he gets close enough.
heeseung, usually so composed and in control, feels a tremor run through his body. the scent hits him with the force of a physical blow.
like your scent was calling him, promising a pleasure so intense that it could kill him.
heeseung takes a step back, his eyes widening in disbelief. the scent makes his entire body ache with a desire he can't quite explain.
and he knows that he's in big trouble.
a sudden snarl escapes him, primal and possessive, as the truth sets in.
"get jungwon out of there, now," he orders, urgency lending speed to their actions as they hurry toward jungwon, driven by a near-maniacal desperation.
heeseung grits his teeth, taking slow, deliberate steps to follow his brothers. the scent clings to his nose, making him bite back the overwhelming urge to bury his face into that sofa like jake pathetically did moments ago.
he knew that an omega’s scent was a powerful thing. it was a primal force that could drive alphas to the edge of madness.
he had seen it happen before, and he knew that it could happen again.
heeseung knew that this was going to be a long, difficult, and potentially dangerous situation. he had a feeling that this housemother was going to be a lot more trouble than they bargained for.
so who the hell are you?
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"i'm done asking nicely, open the fucking door," jungwon's voice booms, a raw, primal command that vibrates through the air, making your entire body tremble. it's a sound that stirs the omega within you, urging submission, making you crave his touch.
it propels you to crawl toward the door, each movement a testament to your surrender to his dominance. the anticipation is a physical ache, a throbbing in your core that mirrors the pounding of your heart.
jungwon presses his body closer to the door, panting with anticipation, his need a feral intensity that you can feel through the wood. his desperation makes your own body thrum in response, a desperate hunger that mirrors his.
"i'm gonna break this fucking door down—" jungwon's howl gets cut off as jake tackles him, knocking him aside in a flurry of unexpected and aggressive desperation.
"you think you can just waltz in here and claim her like she's some prize?" jake snarls, his grip tightening on jungwon's arm.
"get off me," jungwon growls, struggling against jake's hold. "you don't know shit, have you smelled her? think you could resist not taking her?"
"you're a goddamn idiot, jungwon," jake snarls, his grip tightening even more.
"i found her first," jungwon growls, his voice thick with need as he loses himself to his alpha instincts. the fact that one of his best friends is all up in his face, ready to throw hands, means absolutely nothing. "back the fuck off."
"she's not yours," jake says, his voice dripping with disdain. "she's not even leaking for you."
the two aren't trading blows, but jake's grip is fierce, his muscles taut with a desperate need to hold jungwon down.
jungwon, who was so close to convincing his 'bunny' to open the door, is beyond furious at the interruption. he knew you were about to give in to him, but for some reason even his best friend seemed to know how amazing you smelled.
you finally reach your bathroom door, bracing yourself for what is to come. completely unaware of the events that have transpired outside, with trembling hands, you unlock the door, eyes glazed with lust, body numb and needy. your mind was screaming at you to let yourself be taken by jungwon.
whimpers escape your lips as your gaze finally locks on the man responsible for the tantalizing aroma.
he's beautiful.
his sharp jawline and piercing eyes are a vision of alpha dominance. his hair is slightly ruffled from the apparent struggle, adding a touch of wildness to his already captivating features. his skin, smooth and flawless, is the color of warm honey, and his lips, full and inviting, are slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of his pearly white teeth.
"jungwon?" you whisper, but your eyes widen in horror as you see him being pinned down by another man.
another alpha.
your hands quickly cover your nose and mouth as the new scent, cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the warm cinnamon, makes you dizzy.
it also smells heavenly, but it's starting to become too much.
the mix of their pheromones is giving you sensory overload, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. jungwon's eyes meet yours, something feral and intense stirring within him.
"bunny," he whispers, lying on his back with a stabbing pain from his side, the wind knocked out of him by jake’s tackle. his voice is lined with raw longing and frustration.
he's yet to know your name, but the way his name rolled off your tongue felt like it was only natural.
jake lets go of jungwon, his eyes blazing with fury.
without a second thought, jake lunges toward you. he’s a whirlwind of raw alpha energy as he finally takes the time to get a good look at you.
oh god, you are perfect.
you are a vision of raw, untamed beauty. he clicks his tongue, a low, guttural sound, as he takes in the sight of your arousal pooling between your thighs, a testament to jungwon’s previous assault.
the sight of you, so vulnerable and desperate, ignites the devil within him. he almost gets distracted, lost in the sheer perfection of your body despite being covered by a worn-out hoodie and shorts, a masterpiece that he longs to claim despite it being his first time to lay his eyes on you.
your tear-stained face, proof that you are very likely at your breaking point, only makes his cock even harder.
your scent, a heady mix of vanilla and jasmine, it’s a drug that courses through his veins, making him crave you with a desperation he can’t control.
he's losing it.
his eyes narrow, vision tunneled, only seeing you.
"the scent you left on the sofa is nothing compared to having you here in front of me, omega," jake growls, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. he leans in, his nose trailing up sensually on your neck, inhaling deeply as he groans desperately, his hot breath giving you goosebumps as you resisted giving in and pulling him in. as he pulls away to catch his breath, his hooded eyes meet yours and what seemed like time stopping between you, he whispered,
"sorry for what i'm about to do to you."
his hunger is evident as he wastes no time and devours your body with this soft lips, hands shamelessly roaming your body, squeezing your tits, making you gasp cutely against him.
"please," you whimper, the word barely a whisper, your body trembling with need and fear. the omega in you is screaming for submission, for the alphas to take control, to claim you.
jungwon struggles to his feet, his eyes dark with possessive rage. "get your hands off her, jake," he snarls, his voice a dangerous growl as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.
jake smirks, his grip on you tightening. "make me," he taunts, his eyes never leaving yours. "she's leaking for me now, jungwon. she wants this."
"no," jungwon roars, his alpha instincts kicking into overdrive. "she's mine."
jake wastes no time, ignoring jungwon's pathetic attempts to try to win you over, because he was the alpha in front of you now.
his touch is rough and possessive, pouncing on top of you with a desperation that speaks of longing, pinning you to the sticky floor soaked with your own arousal. the air crackles with the electricity of your connection, an untamed energy that threatens to consume you both.
both of your moans and cries mingle in the air, his feverish licks and kisses driving you to the brink of oblivion. he holds your frail arms above your head, capturing your lips in a kiss that is sloppy and desperate, his tongue dancing around with yours.
his cool, musky scent envelops you, as if promising a lover's journey that ensnares your senses and leaves you begging for more. jake is passionate, raw, and extremely intense.
this man definitely knew what he was doing.
"fuck!" jungwon's helpless cry echoes, tears welling as he claws toward you with an almost wild desperation and burning jealousy.
"get off her, jake!" jungwon roars, his voice breaking with raw emotion. "bunny, look at me-"
but before he can reach you, niki grabs him, holding him back firmly, his own breath ragged and filled with turmoil.
“jungwon, snap out of it,” niki pleads, pulling jungwon away from the charged scene, torn between his own instincts and the need to protect everyone involved.
niki’s body feels like a taut string, every muscle screaming with the need to intervene, to protect you, to protect everyone from the chaos unfolding.
niki's own senses are momentarily fucked, the air making him dizzy, his heart pounding in his chest. he feels a surge of panic, knowing that this situation is spiraling out of control.
caught in jake’s embrace, you suffocate in his scent, that was slowly consuming you, making you feel like you're on the verge of shattering.
“you’re a fucking mess,” jake snarls, his voice rough with barely contained desire as he buries his face in your neck. “you’re dripping all over yourself because of that prick, but you’re going to be mine.”
“fuck, i can smell how wet you are. let me taste that pussy baby,” jake moans, releasing your hands to bury his face between your slick thighs. your shorts weren't too tight anyway, so he slips them to the side, along with your soaked panties, licking up your juices as he slurps it all up. he didn't hold back, the way you could hear his tongue lapping at your slick folds, it sounded so dirty.
his tongue messily flicks your swollen clit, licking long and delicious stripes up your slit, not letting a single drop go to waste.
his hands don't shy away from lifting your hoodie, exposing your tummy. he wanted to see your tits but is too busy drowning himself in your wet pussy.
jake is a mess.
"you taste so fucking good," he whimpers.
"you're gonna let me do what i want with this pretty pussy, baby?" your desperate grip on his shirt tugs him closer, your eyes pleading for him to devour you, your voice shaky and filled with want.
"mhmm," you urge him on breathlessly, your chest rising frantically. fuck, you've never been eaten out this good.
"wanna carry my pups? pump you full of my seed?" he whispers in your ear, dragging his teeth along your skin, jaw clenching as it takes everything in him not to mark you right off the bat, sending shivers down your spine.
you nod frantically.
his dick strains painfully against his pants as he humps against your soaking core, the slight sting from his jeans rubbing on your clit making the pleasure tormenting. but the sight of such a gorgeous man falling desperate for you makes you smile.
"yes i want it, need you inside me please," you beg, your voice a fractured whisper.
he spreads your legs wide open, your pretty pussy on display. jake moans loudly at how willing you are and loosens his belt. but before he can unbutton his pants, jay intervenes to grab him in a chokehold, lifting him off you with a tense, determined expression.
"get the fuck off her, jake!" jay growls, his voice filled with authority and anger.
you yelp at the empty feeling of the alpha being pulled off of you, so you decide to quickly replace the feeling, using your own fingers to slide into your wet folds, while your other hand wantonly squeezes your own breasts.
desperate to keep the pleasure coming.
"fucking get off me, jay- you fuck!! let me go-" jake shouts, fighting jay's grip, voice filled with rage and desperation as he attempts to bite his friend's hands off.
jay’s expression is strained, holding his friend back despite the arousal he also feels from the smell of your arousal, his breath hitching as jake struggles.
"jake, this isn't you! calm the fuck down!" jay's voice wavers, trying to maintain control.
it takes everything in him to ignore the sensation of his own rock-hard length pressing against jake's back. he is also reacting to your intoxicating scent.
he knows that he needs to be strong, to protect you from this fucked up situation, but his own body is betraying him.
and it's just the first day.
but you?
you were gone. drowning in your own pleasure, eager to cum.
jay almost loses it when he notices you desperately fucking yourself on your fingers, knuckles deep into your gaping hole, laying there on the floor.
open for the taking.
his eyes widen momentarily, the sound of your fingers squelching as they travel in and out of your sopping hole making him groan.
he decides to close his eyes, breathing in deeply to calm down his raging boner but his thoughts are loud. fuck, you were stretching yourself out.
seeing you put on a show for them, jake growls, still attempting to break free from jay's grip.
"you fucking prick, let me go! she's mine!" jake's voice is filled with raw desperation and anger.
much more forcefully, jay drags jake away to retreat back into the living room.
meanwhile, jungwon thrashes against niki's hold, his eyes wild with desperation. "let me go, niki. she needs me."
niki's grip tightens, his voice strained. "hyung, please. you need to calm down."
jungwon's vision blurs with tears as he sees you on the floor, the sight of you, so vulnerable and desperate, now that jay has jake at bay, this was his moment. he had to taste you, your scent has been torturing him long enough.
"niki, please," jungwon begs, his voice breaking.
niki's own heart aches at the sight of his hyung's desperation. he knows he has to be strong, to keep jungwon from making things worse. "you're not thinking straight, hyung. you need to calm down."
jungwon's body shakes with the effort to break free, but niki's hold is unyielding. "i can't just leave her like that, look, she needs me to help her- i need to help her," jungwon cries, his voice raw with pain.
before jay could drag jake away to fully exit your room, his eyes catch sight of a necklace on the floor. his eyes widen as he realizes just what type of necklace it is.
alarmed, he shouts at sunghoon, who stood by your doorframe, stunned like a deer-in-headlights, staring at your disheveled state, then glancing at jay holding jake back for his dear life.
the chaos of the situation and his own emotions warring within him were all too much.
"sunghoon, the necklace!" the command snaps sunghoon out of his trance as he frantically searches for the necklace, trying to ignore the overwhelming scent in the room. is jay fucking with him? what fucking necklace.
he didn't even know why he needed to look for a necklace and almost let jay's words pass through his ears, clearly doubting jay, almost convinced he was just messing with him.
not until he saw something shimmer in the corner of his eye as he tried to look everywhere but at you.
with his arm shielding his nose and a hiss, he cautiously approaches to retrieve the necklace that was by your bathroom door, his movements filled with confusion and arousal.
"damn it, where is it…" sunghoon mutters, his vision blurring slightly as he tries to focus. the urgency in jay's voice piercing his fog.
even in this frantic state, sunghoon notices your desperation, your eyes pleading as if spellbound. the urgency in your gaze prompts him to call out to jay as he held back any impulse to say 'to hell with it' and just claim you for himself.
"i found the necklace. now what?" sunghoon's voice wavers, urgently clutching the small object.
"put it on her," jay orders decisively, his tone leaving no room for argument. sunghoon curses under his breath as his stomach churned, hesitating, his body shaking with restrained arousal.
but he walks towards you anyway, as you lay there pathetically arching your back against the carpeted floor.
you looked so slutty.
he could come just from watching you. those tear-stained eyes, soaked shorts and pathetic cries.
fuck, you even looked like you pissed yourself.
why the hell did you look like everything he's ever wanted?
"fuck, jay, i don’t know if i can. i can barely even keep myself in check." he confesses, his voice barely audible over the roar of blood in his ears as he crouched down, he was trying. "she looks too good."
then your scent started to invade his whole being.
he was starting to see red, his hands trembling as they reached out for you slowly, the sounds in the room seemed to fade out, only your pathetic whimpers and pants danced with his raging heartbeat ringing in his ears.
"help me, alpha," you sniffle, your voice trembling as you reached out for him with the same hand you were using to fuck yourself.
your wet fingers coated in your own juice grazed his the back of his knuckles, the touch of your hand nearly breaking his resolve. he wanted nothing more than to lick it off, also getting a taste of what made jake lose his mind.
but he holds himself back from that impulsive thought.
your raw desperation cuts through his haze, filling him with conflicting emotions.
"fuck," he moans, placing his palm flat on your stomach, feeling your warmth. he just wanted to. wanted to feel the warmth of your skin, see if his touch had any sort of effect, wondering silently and watching you in awe, as he hoped maybe you liked the way he was emitting his strong and woody alpha musk.
his eyes rake over your body, your hoodie rised up and fell just below your chest, exposing your tummy, likely from jake's assault.
he could imagine it now, filling you up and fucking into you hard.
you could take him.
he'd fuck you so deep, he easily pictured how your stomach would bulge out as he fucked into you, showing just how deep he could go.
"you want it?" sunghoon growls, his voice low and dangerous. "want me to fill you up, make you mine. fuck, you look so good like this, begging for it." the way he was breathless and entranced by you had him mumble the words like a chant, rather than directed at you, it was like he was lost in his own world.
you whimper, your body reacting instinctively to his words. "yes, anything. help me..."
sunghoon's hand trembles as he fights to maintain control. "fuck, i want to. i want to so bad-"
"sunghoon, what the fuck are you doing? the necklace is designed to dampen her pheromones around alphas, so we don’t end up in fucking situations like this," jay explains urgently, with a tinge of possessiveness as he sees his friend try to cop a damn feel while he was struggling to keep jake in check.
sunghoon clicked his tongue, not appreciating how he just got cockblocked when it was clear how much you wanted him.
"why do i always get stuck with the difficult tasks?" sunghoon mutters, resigned but determined, forcing himself to focus.
taking a deep breath, he grips your arm tightly, positioning you to face away. with effort, he clumsily clasps the necklace around your neck, his hands shaking.
instantly, the potency of your pheromones reduces. sunghoon collapses into a breath, realizing your scent lessened and no longer triggers his alpha instincts. relief and frustration war within him as he struggled to catch his breath.
it's like he ran a marathon, his lungs were burning as the adrenaline was yet to wear off.
you slump into his arms, going limp as sleep welcomes you, feeling completely spent.
sunoo then bursts into the room, his expression filled with concern as he looks at your exhausted state.
"let me take her," sunoo asserts, lifting you gently to the sofa in the living room, his touch protective yet tender.
sunghoon releases a breath he doesn’t realize he had been holding, shaken by the intense events. lost in thought, heeseung's reassuring hand on his shoulder brings him back to the present.
"you definitely took your fucking time." sunghoon mumbles, frustration and exhaustion evident.
"sorry, looked like you guys had it all under control."
heeseung appeared nonchalant, but in reality, he was watching everything play out in his own perverted way. he loved seeing you desperate, enjoying the show as he let his members go crazy. as he silently watched the chaos, heeseung was already planning. he was silent but he knew from the minute he smelled you, he was definitely going to do anything to claim you in one way or another.
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silence hung heavy in the living room, thicker than the lingering scent of your pheromones, even with the suppression necklace you wore. the air conditioning hummed, a feeble attempt to mask the tension that crackled between the alphas.
jay finally broke the silence. "so, have you two knuckleheads calmed down yet?" he asked, his voice firm, laced with a hint of exasperation. jake and jungwon, heads slumped, shame etched on their faces, looked like they'd just been kicked in the balls.
jake, still on the sofa, rubbed his face, elbows propped on his knees, eyes glued to your sleeping form. you lay there, a picture of peaceful slumber, oblivious to the storm raging in the room.
jake swallowed hard, the taste of your arousal still lingering on his tongue, a cruel reminder of his own raging need.
"never been so pussy-drunk in my life," he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.
he's always been the smooth operator, the alpha who makes omegas beg for his touch. but here he was, a slave to your scent, his usual confidence replaced with a pathetic ache.
he bit his lip, remembering how he'd shamelessly rubbed himself against you, desperate for a taste, a scent, anything. it was embarrassing, a blow to his alpha pride.
you were captivating, your body a masterpiece, your scent a siren's call. it was no wonder he'd lost his damn mind.
and he wasn't the only one.
"she's something else," jake muttered, trying to shake off the lingering effects of your scent. "can't believe how strong it is, even with the damn necklace."
jay nodded, his struggle mirrored in his own tense expression. "we need to get our shit together, guys," he said, his voice a low growl. "we're responsible for her, not just for ourselves. but it's a real kick in the balls that we had to welcome her like this."
jake ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. "yeah, i get it. it's fucked up. but she just… fuck, i don't even know her name and she makes it hard to think straight." he glanced at sunoo, who sat close to you, seemingly unaffected, his composure an infuriating contrast to their own struggles.
"how do you do it, sunoo? how are you so damn calm?" jake's voice was tinged with desperation.
sunoo hummed thoughtfully. "she's beautiful, and her scent is… pleasant, like a sweet vanilla cake. but it doesn't drive me crazy like it does you guys." he smiled, but his eyes remained cool, devoid of any amusement.
"maybe i'm just better at controlling my urges."
the other boys groaned, their envy palpable. they wished they could bottle sunoo's willpower and chug it down.
"you’re telling us you wouldn’t give in if she asked?" jake challenged, his voice laced with disbelief and a hint of desperation.
sunoo's smirk widened. "oh, i wouldn't say no. but the point is, i don't feel compelled—unlike you guys."
"you've always been the goddamn zen master, sunoo," jay said, his voice tight. "but we gotta find that inner peace too. we can't lose control around her."
like he almost had.
he'd seriously considered knocking everyone out earlier, taking you for himself, the way you'd let anyone have you at that point had him in a chokehold.
he'd wanted to claim your heat, to use you, to feel the power of your scent. you were practically begging for your pussy to be used and abused by how you were stretching yourself out.
jake's eyes darkened with a reminiscent heat. "everything about her, her scent, body and god- if only you guys knew how good she was for me." the boys found themselves staring at your form, the fact that jake, probably the most experienced with women but never got obsessed, was speaking like this.
jake continued with a groan, "and her heat? fuck me. i mean, i ate her out, kissed her. full-on, tongue-down-the-throat action."
jay cast a worried look in jake’s direction, a flicker of jealousy hidden beneath his facade. "we're all affected, jake. it's not just you." he turned to jungwon, who had been unusually quiet and staring holes into the tiled living room floor.
"what about you, jungwon? you just disappeared earlier."
"i've never seen hyung like that before," niki said, his voice laced with curiosity. jungwon sighed, inwardly agreeing.
he couldn't even quite explain it himself—it was the first time he'd ever lost control. usually, he's the picky one. never drunk on an omega’s scent and loved that he never had any attachments to anyone he's been with.
but this time? he had been completely overwhelmed.
jungwon sighed, rubbing his temples. "i don't know what came over me. i went in her room cause i was curious, turns out she was there and the next… i was trying to break down her bathroom door but jake just barged right in."
jake's eyes flared with a mix of frustration and understanding. "you think i didn't feel the same way? the moment i got close to her, it was like i was drowning in her scent."
jungwon's jaw tightened. "but you got to her first, jake. you always do."
jake took a step closer, his voice lowering to a growl. "what are you trying to say, jungwon? that i shouldn't have? that i should've let you have her?"
jungwon's inner dialogue screamed at him, even jungwon couldn't make sense of the intense rage he felt at this moment.
"i'm saying," jungwon spat, "that i lost control for the first time in my life. do you know what that feels like? i was crying, jake. crying because i couldn't handle it."
niki, who had been listening intently, chimed in. "i think we're all just tired, maybe the exhaustion is just catching up to us considering we've been working non-stop."
heeseung, who had been silently observing the conversation, finally spoke. "and that's why she was assigned to us, we need her here. although i've never seen you so aggressive before, won. these things can happen." his voice held a hint of empathy, but his eyes were sharp, his own emotions simmering beneath the surface.
but heeseung wasn't unaffected at all no matter how composed he looked. lee heeseung was jealous.
if he had the chance to be in their shoes? to get a taste, and to be inches away from you, he could die a happy man.
the moment he'd caught a whiff of you, he was gone. he wanted you, he wanted nothing but to drown in you. but no one had to know that.
no one had to know he'd been watching the whole thing, reveling in the chaos, in seeing you lose your mind and how you begged his members to fuck you. heck, it didn't even matter who it was, he knew the face of a whore that loved being fucked dumb the minute he saw you fuck yourself with your fingers when jay pulled jake away. he chuckled, when he saw that.
desperate little thing, he was curious to see if you could manage to face them tomorrow or they could wake up and you'd already taken all your things and left. the embarrassment being too much for a sweet baby like you to handle.
jungwon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i can't explain it. all i know is, the moment i entered her room, i was gone. i really don't know what would've happened to her."
heeseung's eyes narrowed slightly, calculating. he had been watching everyone's reactions, noting their weaknesses and desires. it was clear that competition for you was fierce, and he intended to come out on top. he would bide his time, wait for the perfect moment to make his move.
he could see the desperation in jake's eyes, the frustration in jungwon's, and he knew he had to play his cards right.
"thanks for stepping in, jake," jungwon added, his voice laced with a hint of resentment. "although you ended up getting to her first."
"i'm sorry, man," jake apologized, his voice earnest. "i just lost control and didn't want you to beat me to it. it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, i promise." he stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"if any of you were in my shoes, you'd understand and do the same exact thing!" jake continued, his voice rising in defense.
the group fell into a contemplative silence, the tension easing slightly, but the undercurrent of desire still very much present. sunghoon broke the quiet with a chuckle.
"jake, you even licked the spot where she was sitting," sunghoon said, his voice laced with amusement.
jake groaned, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
jay chuckled, his eyes tinged with concern as he looked at you, fast asleep. "it's hard on everyone. we just have to manage and apologize to her when she wakes up."
jungwon leaned back against the sofa, closing his eyes, silently listening to his members. he was feeling exhausted, but he couldn't help but glance over at you, your sweet voice echoing in his mind as you called his name.
sunghoon's expression shifted from playful to serious as he turned to jay. "jay, how do you know so much about this necklace anyway?"
but sunghoon's thoughts were far from innocent.
he remembered vividly how you had begged him earlier, your eyes filled with a desperate need that had nearly broken his resolve. the memory of your voice, pleading for his touch, sent a shiver down his spine. he had wanted to give in, to claim you right then and there, but he had held back, knowing that the others were watching.
he found himself envying jake's boldness, wishing he had been the one to taste you first. the scent of your heat still lingered in his mind, a tantalizing reminder of what he had almost had. he clenched his fists, determined to find a way to get closer to you, to make you his.
as he questioned jay about the necklace, his mind was already working on a plan. he would wait for the right moment, when the others were distracted, and then he would make his move. you had begged for him once, and he was determined to make sure you would beg for him again.
jay's analytical mind kicked in. "i've come across omegas with these necklaces before. as far as i know, it's a method to help manage their pheromones. so, if her scent is this strong even with the necklace, it's rare but not unheard of then it means her heat is going to be even more intense."
sunghoon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "so, she's special?"
jay nodded. "very likely. her scent being this potent means her pheromones are unusually strong so we need to be extra careful."
niki, ever so attentive, noticed the way jay was leaning against the wall, as far away from you as possible, his arms crossed, his feet shifting nervously. niki held back a snicker.
"hyung, you look awkward. feeling it too?" niki quipped, his voice laced with amusement.
jay glanced at you, his composure slipping for a moment. "i'd be surprised if anyone wasn't affected," he admitted, turning his gaze to heeseung, who had also been unusually quiet.
heeseung's eyes were thoughtful, fixed on you intently. "i actually called management earlier. asked if there'd been some sort of mistake."
"and?" jay probed, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of unease.
"no mistake. she was directly assigned to us. a special recommendation," heeseung replied, his tone resigned, as if the weight of the situation was beginning to settle on his shoulders.
"feels like they've thrown a rabbit into a den of wolves," heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable.
jay tried to lighten the mood with a wry smile, though his eyes betrayed his concern. "should we be happy or scared?"
jake raised an eyebrow, his usual bravado masking the turmoil inside. "can we fuck her though?" he asked, only to be met with incredulous stares from the others. he shrugged defensively, feeling the heat of their judgment.
"seriously, jake?" sunoo said, rolling his eyes. "she's right here, lying in her slick." his hands gestured to your peaceful figure, his voice laced with a mix of protectiveness and exasperation.
"come on, i know you guys want to," jake muttered, though a flicker of doubt crossed his face.
"we're supposed to protect her, not take advantage of her," sunghoon interjected, his voice strained. but even as he spoke, he couldn't help the intrusive thoughts that crept in, imagining what it would be like to give in to his desires. he clenched his fists, battling the primal urge that surged within him.
if he even so much as tried to get close to you, he probably wouldn't be able to control himself. even with your stupid necklace on.
sure, your scent was tolerable now, but it did absolutely nothing to quell his urge to fuck you dumb, a thought that gnawed at the edges of his restraint.
sunoo took the initiative and gently lifted your delicate frame into his arms with ease.
"where are you taking her?" sunghoon asked, envious of the younger's arms wrapping around you.
"i'm going to give her a bath, and then i'll tuck her in," sunoo replied, heading towards your room. "and yes, before any of you say anything, i'm not going to do any funny business." his voice was firm, though he couldn't help but wonder if he could truly live up to his own promise.
sunoo's expression softened as he carried you down the hallway, your vulnerability evident in every step he took. he felt a fierce need to protect you, to be the anchor in the storm of emotions swirling around them.
the members watched him disappear down the hallway, a mix of admiration and frustration in their eyes. they knew sunoo was the best person for the task, even if it stung that he seemed less affected by your pheromones. each of them grappled with their own desires, the struggle to be better men weighing heavily on their minds.
"hey, sunoo, wait up!" jake called out, his voice a mix of concern and a hint of desperation. "i need to talk to you about something."
sunoo paused, turning back to face jake. "what is it?" he asked, his expression curious.
jake hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "i need to know how you do it. how are you so calm around her?" jake asked, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity as he stared at your sleeping face, peaceful as you lay in sunoo's arms.
sunoo chuckled softly. "it's not easy, jake. i'm not some kind of saint. i'm just... trying to do the right thing."
"but you're not even affected by her scent, are you?" jake pressed, a hint of envy in his voice.
sunoo paused, considering his answer. "i'm not saying i'm not affected. i'm trying to focus on the fact that she's our responsibility now. we need to protect her, not take advantage of her. she's also here to do the same thing."
jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. "but her scent is... it's all i can think about."
sunoo nodded, understanding. "i get it, hyung. it's hard for all of us. but we have to be stronger than our instincts."
"i know that-" jake said, his voice filled with frustration. "you know i'm never like this, my mind just goes blank, and all i want to do is be close to her."
"then channel that desire into protecting her," sunoo suggested gently.
jake nodded, a flicker of respect in his eyes.
as sunoo continued down the hallway, jake watched him go, a mixture of admiration and frustration swirling within him. he knew sunoo was right. they needed to be better than this. they needed to be stronger. but it was a hard lesson to learn, especially when faced with an omega as irresistible as you.
the rest of the members watched the exchange between jake and sunoo, their own emotions swirling within them. they knew they were all struggling with the same thing. they were all trying to control their urges, trying to be better men. but it was a constant battle, and they were all afraid of losing.
unpacking their belongings, the boys pondered their situation. the day's events weighed heavily on them, the gravity of living with you sinking in. it would be a test of their self-control and respect for boundaries, a challenge they hadn't anticipated.
after all, the presence of something—or someone—irresistible always has a way of redefining boundaries and pushing limits. they could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken thoughts and desires simmering just beneath the surface.
"we need to set some ground rules," jungwon said, his voice firm. "for all of our sakes. no one is to be alone with her unless absolutely necessary. and if anyone feels like they're losing control, they need to speak up."
the journey ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: life in that house would never be the same again. they would need to navigate this new reality with care, each step a test of their resolve.
but before anything else, they definitely needed to apologize. the weight of their earlier words hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the lines they had crossed. they owed it to you, and to themselves, to make amends.
guess it's time to call it a night.
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you stirred, a soft groan slipping from your lips as you stretched, your body still heavy with the remnants of sleep. the events of the previous night were a hazy blur, a confusing mix of intense sensations, overwhelming scents, and a strange sense of vulnerability. but as you shifted under the covers, you felt a sticky discomfort between your thighs, a reminder of just how wild things had gotten. you were still dirty with your own juices, your skin tacky where the evidence of last night clung to you.
the memory made your cheeks burn. how their scents had overwhelmed you, driving you to the brink of madness. you’d surrendered to the primal pull of their pheromones, your body reacting instinctively, craving their touch.
you were an omega, after all—this was your nature.
but there was more to it. the way they had struggled to control themselves, the way they looked at you with a mixture of lust, desperation, and a bit of fear—it all filled you with both embarrassment and a strange, unexpected sense of power. you might be an omega, but you were also their housemother. and you were determined to be damn good at it.
you sat up slowly, wincing at the stickiness that clung to your skin. heat rushed to your cheeks as you realized just how far things had gone. you’d never been the center of so much focus, especially not from seven incredibly attractive alphas.
"oh, god," you whispered, burying your face in your hands. "what a mess."
with a deep breath, you forced yourself out of bed, the sticky remnants of last night making you cringe as you moved. the bathroom was a refuge, the cool water washing away the evidence of your loss of control, but the scent of your own arousal still lingered faintly, a subtle reminder of the chaos you’d been caught up in.
you were their housemother, not their plaything—even if a part of you had craved being used.
stepping out of the shower, you paused, taking a deep breath. you could hear their voices, muffled by the closed door, the low rumble of laughter still tinged with an undercurrent of tension.
another deep breath, and you were ready.
you dressed quickly, pulling on clothes that made you feel in control, and pushed the door open, walking into the living room with newfound confidence.
"morning, boys," you greeted, your voice steady, your eyes meeting each of theirs with a mix of amusement and defiance. the room fell silent as you entered, their surprise evident in their wide eyes and dropped jaws. they’d expected a meek, submissive omega, not the confident and strong presence you exuded.
you stood tall, chin up, a glint of determination in your gaze that caught them off guard. they exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of how to react to this unexpected display of strength from you—but they definitely liked it.
a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you met their stunned expressions with a knowing look.
you may be an omega, but you were no pushover. you were here to take charge, to show them you were more than just a pretty face and a tempting scent.
"i hope you boys are ready for a new day," you said, your voice calm but firm. "i would also like to start with introductions, shall we?"
they exchanged looks, a mix of surprise and respect flickering in their eyes. they may have underestimated you. you were a force to be reckoned with.
"well, good morning to you too, bunny," jake said, a hint of amusement in his voice. jungwon narrowed his eyes at jake, only he called you that, and now jake was clearly trying to piss him off.
"i’m surprised you’re still alive after last night," niki chimed in, a smirk playing on his lips. his casual speech as if he'd known you for years was a tactic he used to make you feel welcome. "the name's niki, i thought we’d have to call a priest to exorcise you."
you chuckled, shaking your head. "well, it’s a good thing i’m a tough cookie. my name is y/n, it’s great to officially meet everyone."
"i’m jungwon, not sure if you remembered it from yesterday, but i’m glad to know you're doing fine," jungwon said, his voice tinged with a mixture of embarrassment and admiration. "this is definitely not the response i- we expected from you—pretty impressive."
"i’m surprised you didn’t break down that bathroom door, jungwon," you said, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "you were practically tearing it off its hinges."
jungwon blushed, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "i… i don’t know what came over me. sorry about that... it kind of makes sense now why only your door is made out of metal."
"to keep your scent in?" jay added, noting that only your door was fortified with a thick layer of metal, mainly for your heat cycles so you could go through them without risking anything happening between you and your housemates. you nodded, and he beamed at you with a bright smile. "I'm jay, but i have a big feeling you already know who we are?" you chuckle, nodding again. "yes, i do. i was briefed beforehand."
"that's great then," heeseung chimed in. "also, we're really sorry about what happened yesterday," he added, his voice laced with concern. "still you have to be careful, and try not to take off your necklace so i don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to…"
at heeseung’s comment, the room grew noticeably quieter. the boys’ faces fell slightly, their eyes narrowing as they processed the older alpha’s words. they exchanged looks, and you could almost see the gears turning in their heads. heeseung’s attempt at flirting wasn’t going unnoticed, and they didn’t seem too thrilled about it.
"oh, so now you’re the responsible one, huh?" jake teased, but there was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before.
"yeah, and last time i checked, you weren’t the only one here who needs to be careful," jungwon muttered, his eyes darting between you and heeseung, clearly not thrilled with the idea of the older alpha getting too close to you.
sunghoon scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "since when did you become the knight in shining armor? i thought we agreed we’d all look out for y/n."
"i’m just saying," heeseung replied, raising his hands in mock surrender, though the smirk on his face showed he wasn’t entirely backing down. "someone’s gotta step up and make sure we don’t all lose our heads."
"oh, please," jay interjected, rolling his eyes. "if anyone’s losing their head, it’s you. i saw the way you were looking at y/n last night."
heeseung chuckled, clearly enjoying the playful banter, but there was an underlying tension that none of them could quite shake. "jealous much?" he teased, though there was a flicker of something more serious in his gaze as he looked at you.
the boys all huffed in their own ways, a mix of jealousy and possessiveness swirling in the air. you couldn’t help but laugh softly at their antics, feeling a strange sense of pride in the way they were all vying for your attention.
"you’re all ridiculous," you said, shaking your head with a smile. "but i appreciate the concern. let’s try not to tear each other apart, okay?"
they all nodded, albeit grudgingly, and you could see the tension easing as they realized the truth in your words. whatever had happened last night, whatever was brewing between you all, it was clear that you were the one keeping them grounded. and they clearly wanted you to know they wanted you and bad.
as you stood there, surrounded by seven alphas who were all trying—and failing—to hide their growing affection for you, you knew you had them exactly where you wanted them.
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as the weeks passed, you settled into your role as the housemother to the seven alphas. the tension from that first heated encounter with jake and jungwon lingered in the air, but you made it your mission to focus on building a strong bond with each of them. you knew that if you were going to make this work, the dynamics between you all had to be solid.
in the mornings, you’d wake up early to prepare breakfast, the smell of food luring them one by one into the kitchen. jake was usually the first, his sleepy eyes lighting up when he saw you. he’d lean against the counter, watching you with a look that was hard to ignore, the subtle hints of desire always simmering just beneath the surface.
“morning, y/n,” he’d greet you, now a regular part of your mornings together. you’d roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.
“morning, jake. sleep well?”
“better now that i get to see you first thing,” he’d reply, that playful smirk making your heart skip a beat.
jungwon, on the other hand, was more reserved, but you noticed the way his gaze would linger on you when he thought you weren’t looking. he’d help you with the dishes after breakfast, his fingers brushing against yours just a little too often to be accidental.
“thank you for breakfast,” he’d say quietly, his voice laced with something more than just gratitude.
“anytime, jungwon,” you’d respond, your voice soft, the tension between you both thick in the air.
then there was niki, always up to some mischief. he’d sneak up behind you, pretending to steal a piece of food, but his real goal was always to make you laugh. his antics were innocent enough, but the way he looked at you when he thought no one else was paying attention spoke volumes.
“play a game with me,” he’d say with that boyish grin, leaving you flustered.
sunghoon was the quiet observer, always watching, always aware. you’d catch him looking at you from across the room, his gaze intense and unreadable. but when he spoke to you, it was with a gentleness that contrasted with the sharpness of his gaze.
“if you need anything, just ask,” he’d offer, his tone sincere, as if he was waiting for the moment you’d need him.
jay was different. he was open with his admiration, always complimenting you, always making sure you knew how much he appreciated you.
“you’re incredible, you know that?” he’d say after you’d done something as simple as organizing the living room.
“i’m just doing my job,” you’d reply, but the way he looked at you made it clear he thought you were doing much more than that.
heeseung was the hardest to read. he’d flirt with you openly, his words dripping with suggestion, but there was a seriousness to him that kept you on your toes.
“you should be careful,” he’d say one evening as he passed by you in the hallway, his voice low and teasing, “or i might just lose control.”
and then there was sunoo, sweet and affectionate, but with a sharpness to him that kept the others in line. he’d sit with you in the evenings, just talking, but the way he’d casually drape his arm over the back of your chair or lean in a little too close told you he wasn’t immune to the pull you had on them.
as the days turned into weeks, you found yourself growing closer to them, each interaction laced with an undercurrent of tension that was impossible to ignore. they’d become more protective, more possessive, and you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at the thought of how deeply they cared for you.
then, the day came when they won 1st place on the chart. the excitement was palpable as they celebrated in the living room, laughter and cheers filling the air. they decided to go live on weverse to share the moment with their fans, and you watched from the sidelines, a proud smile on your face.
but as they interacted with the fans, you noticed something—an undercurrent of tension that hadn’t been there before. their smiles were just a little too tight, their laughter a little too forced. it took you a moment to realize what was happening—your scent, which had been subtle before, was now filling the room, and it was affecting them.
heeseung was the first to falter, his hand gripping the back of the couch as he tried to focus on the screen.
“are you okay?” one of the fans asked, their concern evident even through the chat.
“yeah, just… a little hot in here, that’s all,” heeseung replied with a strained smile, his eyes flicking to you for just a second too long.
the others weren’t faring much better. jake kept shifting in his seat, his gaze darting between you and the camera, while jungwon’s jaw was clenched so tight you thought he might crack a tooth. niki’s usually carefree demeanor was nowhere to be found, and sunghoon looked like he was ready to bolt from the room at any second.
they managed to get through the live without too much trouble, but the moment it ended, the tension in the room was suffocating. they were all trying to act normal, but it was clear they were struggling to keep their composure.
“maybe we should have a drink tonight,” jay suggested, his voice a little too eager, as if he needed something to distract him from the way your scent was driving them all mad.
“yeah, to celebrate,” niki added quickly, his eyes darting to you, silently pleading for you to agree.
you hesitated for a moment, but the thought of spending the evening with them, seeing how far this unspoken tension could be pushed, was too tempting to resist.
“sure, why not,” you agreed, your voice soft but steady.
the relief on their faces was almost comical, but you knew that tonight was going to be anything but chill. the unspoken desires that had been simmering for weeks were about to come to a head, and you weren’t sure if any of you would be able to hold back.
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as the evening settled in, the atmosphere in your flat grew cozy and intimate. the boys had made themselves comfortable, sprawled out on the couches and chairs, the tension from earlier slowly ebbing away. you set out some snacks and non-alcoholic drinks for niki, who waved off the fact that he wasn’t drinking with a carefree grin.
“i’m fine, really,” niki assured you, leaning back against the couch with a casual shrug. “i don’t need alcohol to have fun.”
“you say that now,” jay teased, ruffling niki’s hair, “but wait until you’re old enough to join us for real.”
the rest of the group chuckled, but the playful banter soon shifted to more serious topics as you all settled in for the evening. the conversation eventually turned to you, and they began to ask more about why you were assigned to them.
“so, how did you end up as our housemother?” sunghoon asked, his curiosity clear in his tone.
you hesitated, the weight of the truth pressing down on you. but something about the warm, relaxed atmosphere made you feel like you could finally open up to them. you sighed, running a hand through your hair as you gathered your thoughts.
“my father,” you began, your voice soft but steady, “he was the one who assigned me to you guys. without my consent.”
the room fell silent, the boys listening intently as you continued.
“he’s always been… difficult to break away from. his control over me is something i’ve struggled with for years. when he told me i was going to be your housemother, it wasn’t a request. it was an order.”
you paused, glancing around at their faces, seeing a mix of surprise, concern, and something else—perhaps a bit of anger on your behalf.
“i was tasked to be a housemother who is supposed to provide support and comfort, not… mate with any of you. that was his rule. he made it very clear that my role here was to keep things running smoothly, to take care of you, but nothing more.”
“that’s… messed up,” jake muttered, his brow furrowing in concern. “you should’ve had a say in it.”
“yeah,” jungwon added, his voice laced with frustration. “you deserve to make your own choices.”
you smiled softly at their reactions, feeling a warmth spread through you at their concern. but there was more to the story, and you decided it was time to let them in on a part of you that they hadn’t seen yet.
“there’s something else,” you said, a hint of mischief creeping into your tone. “i’m not as good as i seem, you know. i’ve had my share of… rebellious moments.”
their eyes widened in interest, and you could see the curiosity sparking in them, eager to learn more about this side of you.
“i’ve had a few relationships with alphas in the past,” you admitted, your voice low but teasing. “my father wasn’t too happy about that, of course. but i wasn’t always the obedient daughter he wanted me to be. i’ve broken a few rules, pushed a few boundaries.”
you could see the intrigue and admiration in their eyes as they absorbed this new information about you. the thought that you had a more rebellious streak, that you weren’t just the dutiful housemother they thought you were, seemed to ignite something in them.
“what kind of boundaries?” heeseung asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a bit of something else—something darker, more possessive.
you smirked, leaning back in your chair as you took a sip of your drink, letting the tension build.
“let’s just say… i’m not afraid to challenge the status quo. and i’ve never been one to shy away from what i want.”
the room grew quiet again, the weight of your words hanging in the air. you could see the effect it had on them, the way their eyes darkened with desire, the way their bodies seemed to tense with the unspoken tension that had been building between you all for weeks.
“sounds like you’ve got a bit of a wild side,” jay remarked, his voice teasing but tinged with admiration.
“maybe,” you replied with a playful shrug. “but it’s not something i show just anyone.”
“lucky us, then,” sunoo chimed in, his tone light but with a glint of something more in his eyes.
the conversation flowed easily after that, with the boys asking more about your past, eager to learn everything they could about you. they were captivated by the idea that there was more to you than met the eye, that beneath the surface, there was a complexity they hadn’t yet uncovered.
as the night went on, the drinks loosened everyone up, the conversations growing bolder, the laughter more frequent. but beneath it all, the tension stayed and it kept everyone on edge, waiting for something to happen.
and as the night continued, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could all hold back, how much longer you could pretend that the desires simmering just beneath the surface weren’t ready to boil over.
the drinks kept flowing, the boys were getting looser, their usual composed selves giving way to a more relaxed, playful side.
sunghoon was trying to beat niki at a makeshift game of rock-paper-scissors, while jay and jake were locked in a mock debate about the best way to eat ramen.
“i’m telling you, jay,” jake said with mock seriousness, “you have to let the noodles soak for exactly three minutes. not a second more, or you ruin the whole thing.”
jay shook his head, a grin on his face. “no way, jake. if you wait that long, the noodles get too soft. you need to eat them while they’re still a bit firm. that’s the perfect texture.”
“how about we just eat them and not worry about it?” niki interjected, grabbing another snack off the table. “food is food, right?”
the room erupted in laughter, and even you found yourself chuckling at their antics. the atmosphere was light, and for a moment, it felt like you could all just enjoy the night without any of the usual tension hanging over you.
but then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of the moment. it was a message from yuki, their manager. you opened it, your eyes scanning over the words quickly, and your stomach tightened as you read the contents.
“as a gift,” the message began, “we’re sending over some omegas for the boys. they’ve been working so hard, and it’s time they recharge properly. your presence has been a big help, but they need more help than what you can offer them. the omegas should arrive shortly.”
you frowned slightly, the words sinking in. it wasn’t that you had deep feelings for the boys—your role as housemother was clear in your mind—but there was something about the idea of these new omegas coming in that didn’t sit right with you.
maybe it was the way the message subtly suggested that you’d been a crucial part of keeping the boys sane, or maybe it was just the thought of these other omegas being brought in to meet their needs.
you quickly pushed the thoughts aside, schooling your features into a neutral expression as you heard a knock on the door. the boys looked up, their conversations pausing as they glanced at you, curiosity and a hint of something else in their eyes.
“looks like our guests are here,” you said, forcing a smile as you stood up to answer the door.
when you opened it, you were greeted by a group of pretty omegas, each of them dressed to impress, their scents sweet and alluring in the way only omegas could be. they were polite, smiling at you as you welcomed them inside, but you couldn’t help the slight twinge of jealousy that gnawed at you, even if you knew you shouldn’t feel that way.
“boys, these are your… guests for the evening,” you said, introducing the omegas to the group. your tone was light, but there was a subtle edge to it that you couldn’t quite mask. you caught jake’s eye as you spoke, and for a brief moment, you saw something flash in his gaze—something like disappointment, or maybe even regret.
the omegas settled in, their attention quickly turning to the alphas, who were doing their best to be polite, but you could sense the tension in the room. the new scents were pleasant, sure, but they didn’t compare to yours. you could see it in the way the boys’ eyes kept drifting back to you, even as the omegas tried to engage them in conversation.
as the evening wore on, it became more apparent that the alphas weren’t as interested in their new guests as yuki might have hoped. jay tried to make small talk with one of the omegas, but his eyes kept flicking over to where you were sitting. sunghoon, usually so composed, seemed distracted, his gaze lingering on you even as one of the omegas tried to catch his attention.
it wasn’t long before the new omegas began to notice the boys’ lack of focus. their smiles faltered slightly, and you could see the confusion in their eyes as they realized that the alphas weren’t as enamored with them as they should have been. the tension in the room shifted, becoming something more uncomfortable as the omegas began to feel the awkwardness of the situation.
“are you guys okay?” one of the omegas asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she glanced between the boys and you.
“yeah, we’re fine,” jungwon replied, a bit too quickly, his gaze darting back to you. “just… tired, i guess.”
the excuse was flimsy, and everyone in the room knew it. but no one said anything, the awkward silence stretching on as the alphas struggled to maintain their composure.
you could feel their gazes on you, even as you tried to focus on the new omegas. but it was clear that the boys were more interested in you than their supposed gifts, and that realization brought a strange mix of emotions. you weren’t sure whether to feel flattered, irritated, or something else entirely.
the evening dragged on, the atmosphere growing more strained as it became clear that the alphas’ attention wasn’t on the new omegas. the girls eventually excused themselves, leaving the flat with polite smiles and a sense of discomfort.
once the door closed behind them, the room fell into an awkward silence. you glanced at the boys, who all seemed to be avoiding eye contact, their earlier drunken cheerfulness replaced with something more somber.
“well,” you said, breaking the silence, “that was… interesting.”
“they weren’t really our type,” sunghoon mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
“yeah, and their scent was too strong,” sunoo added, his nose wrinkling slightly as if recalling the overpowering sweetness of the new omegas.
“it’s not that they weren’t nice,” jake said, finally meeting your eyes. “it’s just… they weren’t you.”
the words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of them, the alphas had tried to keep things professional, tried to respect the boundaries set by your role as housemother, but it was clear now that those boundaries were starting to fray.
"but maybe you guys could have done something?" you say, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice as you look around the room at the boys. "it’s not gonna sit right with management that you made them leave without anything happening. they could get suspicious… and fire me."
the gravity of your words seems to settle over them like a heavy blanket. sunghoon shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze, while jake and jungwon exchange uneasy glances.
they all know the stakes—you’ve been doing your best to keep things under control, balancing your role as housemother with the complicated feelings swirling around, but this… this was a visible failure.
“we didn’t mean to make things hard for you,” heeseung says softly, his tone apologetic as he saw you were clearly distressed. “we just… weren't feeling it.”
“yeah, it’s not like we were trying to mess things up,” sunoo adds, a bit defensively.
you sigh, rubbing your temples as the weight of the situation sinks in. “i get that, but management won't. they’re expecting certain things to happen, and if they think you’re rejecting what they’ve arranged, they might start asking questions. questions i can’t answer and if they find about what almost happened...”
“we’re sorry,” jungwon says, his voice sincere. “we didn’t think about how it might affect you. we were just… being selfish.”
the room falls silent for a moment, the tension thick in the air as everyone grapples with the implications of what’s happened. you can feel the worry gnawing at you, the fear that this could be the thing that tips the balance, that makes your already precarious situation even more unstable.
“look,” jay finally speaks up, his tone more serious than usual, “we’ll figure something out. we’ll talk to management, make up some excuse… anything to keep you out of trouble.”
you nod, appreciating the sentiment, but you know it’s not that simple. “just… be careful.”
the boys nod, their expressions a mix of guilt and determination. they know they’ve put you in a difficult position, and they’re willing to do what it takes to fix it. but the underlying tension between you all—those hidden desires, the unspoken feelings—it’s clear that this is just the beginning of something far more complicated.
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the boys arrived home from practice, their laughter and chatter filling the hallway as they kicked off their shoes and dropped their bags by the door. the smell of sweat and exhaustion mixed with the familiar scent of the apartment, a comforting reminder that they were finally home. but as they turned the corner into the living room, their footsteps slowed, and the playful banter tapered off.
you were sitting on the couch, legs tucked under you, a relaxed smile on your face as you chatted with kai, an old friend from childhood. he was an alpha too, but there was a casual ease between you, the kind that came from years of familiarity. kai had dropped by to check in on you, as he often did, being one of the few people who knew you well enough to see through the façade you sometimes had to put on.
“hey, guys!” you greeted, waving them over. “this is kai. we’ve known each other since we were kids.”
kai looked up and offered a polite nod, his expression friendly. “nice to meet you all.”
the boys, however, didn’t seem too keen on the friendly atmosphere. their smiles were a little too tight, their eyes narrowing just a fraction as they took in the sight of you and kai sitting so comfortably together. there was a brief, awkward silence before jake, ever the smooth talker, stepped forward.
“so, kai,” he said, his voice dripping with casual interest, “what brings you around? haven’t seen you here before.”
kai didn’t miss a beat, completely unaware of the subtle undercurrent of tension. “just checking in on y/n. she’s been through a lot lately, and, well, we’ve always looked out for each other.”
“oh, have you?” jungwon chimed in, his tone light but with a hint of something else. “that’s… sweet.”
sunghoon, who was standing by the arm of the couch, glanced at kai’s relaxed posture, then at the way you seemed so at ease around him. “must be nice to have such a good friend around.”
kai chuckled, oblivious to the growing tension. “yeah, we’ve been through a lot together. nothing like old friends to keep you grounded.”
“hmm,” jay murmured, crossing his arms over his chest. “yeah, i guess it is important to have someone who really knows you… inside and out.”
the innuendo in jay’s words made kai raise an eyebrow, but you quickly stepped in, sensing the direction things were headed. “oh, come on, guys,” you said with a laugh, nudging kai playfully. “don’t scare him off. kai and i are just friends. always have been, always will be.”
“yeah,” kai added with a grin, “nothing like that between us. y/n’s practically family.”
sunoo, who had been watching quietly from the sidelines, finally spoke up. “well, that’s good to know. wouldn’t want any… misunderstandings.”
kai blinked, finally catching on to the subtle jabs. he glanced between you and the boys, then smirked, leaning back casually. “you guys don’t have to worry about me. i’m not here to step on any toes.”
“toes?” niki echoed, his tone a bit sharper than intended. “what toes?”
you sighed, rolling your eyes at the whole situation. “guys, seriously. kai’s just a friend. there’s nothing going on, okay?”
heeseung, who had been quiet the entire time, finally spoke, his voice calm but with a clear edge of possessiveness. “we’re just making sure, y/n. can’t be too careful, you know? he's also an alpha.”
kai chuckled, getting to his feet. “alright, alright. i can take a hint. i’ll get out of your hair.” he turned to you with a smile. “you know where to find me if you need anything.”
“thanks, kai,” you said, standing up to walk him to the door. “i appreciate you checking in.”
as you saw kai out, the boys exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. they might not have had anything to worry about with kai, but the way they felt seeing you with another alpha made it clear—those possessive instincts weren’t going away anytime soon. and neither was their desire to be the ones closest to you.
as you headed to the kitchen to start preparing a meal for the boys, the atmosphere in the living room remained tense. the usual banter and easygoing chatter were replaced with a heavy silence, each of them stewing in their own thoughts. they weren’t exactly thrilled about how close kai had seemed with you, and though you’d reassured them, the possessiveness gnawed at them.
you hummed quietly as you moved around the kitchen, unaware of the cold stares and subtle pouts they were exchanging behind your back. you were focused on making sure everything was just right for them—after all, you were their housemother, responsible for their well-being. but to them, it felt like you were so much more than just someone to take care of their needs. they were struggling to keep their instincts in check, and the sight of you moving so effortlessly around their space only made it harder.
“she’s way too comfortable with him,” jake muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he watched you from the doorway.
“i didn’t like how he was looking at her,” sunghoon added, leaning back against the couch with a frown. “like he had a right to be that close.”
“it’s not like we can do anything about it,” sunoo said, though there was a sharp edge to his words. “we’ve got rules to follow.”
“rules,” jungwon scoffed quietly. “who’s enforcing them? her father? he’s not here.”
there was a pause as they all considered his words, a new tension building in the air. they knew the rules—strict boundaries were set to keep things professional, to prevent anything from crossing the line. you were their housemother, meant to provide support, comfort, and nothing more.
but the more time they spent around you, the harder it was becoming to stick to those boundaries.
“but she’s different,” jay finally spoke up, his voice low. “you guys feel it too, right?”
niki, who had been quietly fuming, nodded in agreement. “but we can’t—”
“who says we can’t?” heeseung interrupted, his tone cold and firm. “like what jungwon said, who’s enforcing it? if we’re smart about it… maybe we don’t have to follow the rules.”
the room fell into a contemplative silence, each of them turning over the idea in their minds. the thought of finding a way around the restrictions was tempting, more than tempting—it was becoming necessary. the longer they were around you, the more their instincts screamed at them to claim, to protect, to keep you close in a way that was more than just a caretaker.
“it’s not like she’s against us,” sunghoon murmured, glancing toward the kitchen. “we’ve all seen how she looks at us. there’s something there. she just doesn’t act on it because of the rules and her daddy issues.”
“and she’s more rebellious than she lets on,” jungwon added, remembering some of the stories you’d shared. “maybe she’s just waiting for us to make a move.”
“or maybe she thinks we’re not interested,” sunoo said, his voice barely above a whisper. “but that’s bullshit. we’re all losing it, trying to keep it together around her. i know she sees it.”
as they spoke, the tension between them grew, the slow burn of desire simmering just beneath the surface. they were all on the same page, they just hadn’t admitted it to each other until now. the thought of breaking the rules, of finding a way to make you theirs despite everything, was becoming more appealing by the second.
“we have to be careful,” jake cautioned, though his voice was thick with need. “if we mess this up… we could lose her. for good.”
“then we don’t mess it up,” heeseung replied, his eyes dark and determined. “we take it slow, make sure she’s on the same page. but we don’t back down. not anymore.”
you walked back into the room, carrying a tray of food, completely unaware of the decision that had just been made. as you set the tray down, you noticed the change in the atmosphere, the way their eyes were on you, intense and unwavering. it sent a shiver down your spine, though you couldn’t quite place why.
“everything okay?” you asked, trying to ignore the sudden, almost predatory way they were looking at you.
“yeah,” jay said, offering you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “just… talking.”
“about what?” you pressed, curious.
“nothing important,” sunghoon replied smoothly, though the flicker in his eyes suggested otherwise. “just… the future.”
“the future, huh?” you mused, taking a seat on the couch. “well, let’s focus on dinner first. you guys need to eat after practice.”
they nodded, but the tension remained, the conversation you’d interrupted leaving them all on edge. as they started eating, the silence between bites felt charged, the air thick with unspoken words. you could feel it too, that something had shifted, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.
and as the meal went on, they kept stealing glances at you, their minds racing with possibilities, each one more dangerous and thrilling than the last.
the rules were starting to feel like chains, ones they were more than ready to break. they just had to find the right moment, and the right way to show you that the connection you shared was more than just a professional bond. it was something deeper, something they were no longer willing to ignore.
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as the days went by, you noticed the change in their behavior. it was subtle at first—a lingering touch here, a suggestive comment there. but it was clear they were testing boundaries, pushing the limits of what was acceptable in this delicate arrangement. you found yourself torn between the thrill of their attention and the fear of what it could mean if things went too far.
it started with heeseung. he was always the smooth talker, the one who knew exactly what to say to make your heart race. his hand would brush against yours when he passed you something, his voice dropping just a little lower when he spoke to you, his eyes holding yours a second too long. it was as if he was daring you to react, to acknowledge the unspoken tension between you.
then there was jake. he was more direct, his compliments laced with flirtation that left little to the imagination. "you look beautiful today," he'd say with a smile that made your knees weak, even though you were just wearing a simple outfit. "i bet all the other omegas are jealous of you." his words were playful, but there was an edge to them, a hint of something deeper that made your heart beat faster.
jungwon was different. he didn't say much, but his actions spoke volumes. he found excuses to be near you, to help you with small tasks around the house. his touch was always gentle, almost reverent, as if he was afraid of crossing a line but couldn't resist the urge to be close to you. it was his quiet presence that made you feel the most vulnerable, the most aware of the growing attachment that was taking root in your heart.
sunghoon, on the other hand, was more mischievous. he loved teasing you, making jokes that were just on the edge of inappropriate. "careful, y/n," he'd say with a smirk. "if you keep spoiling us like this, we might never let you go." his words were lighthearted, but the way he looked at you, with a glint of something darker in his eyes, made you wonder if there was more truth to his joke than he let on.
and then there was niki. though he was the youngest, his maturity showed in the way he handled himself around you. he wasn't as forward as the others, but his presence was always there, watching, waiting. he had a way of making you feel seen, like he understood the internal struggle you were going through. his quiet support was a comfort, but it also made you painfully aware of the line you were dangerously close to crossing.
jay and sunoo were no different.
jay's protectiveness was endearing, but there was a possessive undertone to it that sent shivers down your spine. he always made sure you were comfortable, that you had everything you needed, but there was a certain intensity in his gaze, a silent claim that was hard to ignore.
sunoo, with his sweet nature, was the most surprising. his flirtation was subtle, almost innocent, but there was a confidence behind it that made you blush. his compliments were genuine, but the way he delivered them, with that knowing smile, made you wonder if he was more aware of your feelings than you realized.
you found yourself caught in this web of desire, each of them pulling you in their own way. you wanted to resist, to keep things professional, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
they were making it difficult, each of them trying to catch you in moments when you were alone, when your guard was down.
your heart raced every time one of them came close, every time their hand brushed against yours, every time their eyes met yours with that undeniable heat. it was exciting, intoxicating even, but it was also terrifying.
you knew the risks, knew what could happen if things went too far. but the way they looked at you, the way they spoke to you, made it so hard to remember why you needed to keep your distance.
and so, their plan continued, each of them playing their part in this slow, deliberate seduction.
and you?
you were caught in the middle, torn between the thrill of their attention and the fear of what it could mean if you gave in. but with each passing day, with each stolen moment, you could feel your resolve weakening, your heart betraying you as it slowly but surely started to fall for them.
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the room was charged with an almost unbearable tension as the photoshoot wrapped up. it was your first time joining them on set, and you could feel the weight of their stares on you the entire time. despite your best efforts to appear unaffected, the nearing heat had started to influence them, making it increasingly difficult for them to mask their true feelings. the necklace you wore, designed to suppress your scent, was barely doing its job, and you were acutely aware of the way their eyes lingered on you.
as the staff milled around, packing up equipment and congratulating the boys on a successful shoot, you found yourself caught in a subtle but intense dance of stolen glances and fleeting touches. the air was thick with the unsaid, the unacknowledged desires that simmered just below the surface.
you tried to focus on anything but them, knowing that letting your guard down even for a moment could lead to something you weren’t sure you could control. but as they moved around you, changing out of their outfits and into more casual clothes, the proximity made it impossible to ignore the way your body was reacting, the heat creeping up your neck as you fought to stay composed.
then yuki approached, his presence as always, calm and authoritative, but this time there was a hint of something in his eyes that made you uneasy. “y/n,” he called, drawing your attention away from the boys, who were now shirtless and toweling off the sweat from the shoot.
“yes, manager yuki?” you responded, trying to keep your voice steady, though you could feel the intensity of the alphas’ gazes boring into your back.
“i’ve arranged for an alpha to accompany you when your heat starts,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact, but loud enough that the others could hear. “it’s important that you’re taken care of properly, given the situation.”
a sharp silence followed his words. you felt the air in the room shift, the tension spiking as the alphas all paused in their actions, their attention snapping to the conversation at hand.
"so, yuki, who’s the lucky alpha?" you asked, a playful lilt in your voice as you leaned closer to him. he laughed, matching your tone as he began to share the details.
unbeknownst to you, the alphas could hear every word. sunghoon, who had been adjusting his shirt, froze, his hands stilling as he processed what you were saying. jungwon, already on edge, felt a wave of jealousy surge through him, his expression darkening as he exchanged glances with jake, who was equally tense.
"i hear he’s quite the catch," yuki teased, completely unaware of the firestorm his words were sparking among the alphas. "i bet you're looking forward to it."
"oh, i am," you replied with a grin, your excitement genuine, feeling the anticipation build in your core, god, it had been hell having to be around the boys, you find yourself wanting to give in to them. but somehow, seeing there could be a distraction, a very hot distraction, maybe it would help you sort out your feelings. "it’s been a while, and i’m pretty desperate for a good fuck right now. he sounds perfect."
your words were like a punch to the gut for the alphas. jake, usually so confident, felt a rare stab of insecurity, his mind racing as he imagined you with another alpha. sunghoon’s jealousy turned into something darker, more possessive, while sunoo’s usual brightness dimmed even further, a frown tugging at his lips.
"you seem too eager for this," jay muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear, but the bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. he shot a glare at jake, who was clearly struggling to keep his own emotions in check.
"fuck the rules," jake snapped, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you from across the room, chatting animatedly with yuki. "there’s no way we’re letting her mate with someone else. it's bad enough i have to share with you guys."
meanwhile, you were painfully aware of the effect you were having on them. their stares, once affectionate and teasing, were now filled with something darker, more intense. it was taking everything in you to maintain your composure, to act like their proximity wasn’t making your pulse race, wasn’t heightening the ache building inside you.
"yuki, you really know how to pick them," you joked, but there was an edge to your voice as you felt the alphas’ eyes burning into you from across the room. "can't wait."
“y/n, can you help me with this?” sunghoon called out, his voice smooth yet laced with something deeper as he adjusted his outfit. you stepped closer, your fingers brushing against his as you straightened his collar, his breath hitching slightly at the contact. his eyes locked onto yours, dark and full of unspoken desire, and for a moment, it felt like the world around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of sexual tension.
but it wasn’t just sunghoon.
as you moved around the set, you could feel the other alphas’ eyes on you, each one fighting their own instincts, trying to maintain some semblance of control. heeseung, usually so composed, seemed on edge, his jaw clenched as he watched you interact with the others. when your hands briefly touched his while passing a prop, you noticed how his fingers lingered a second longer than necessary, the heat of his touch almost searing.
the alphas exchanged glances, jealousy simmering beneath the surface. jake’s hand tightened around the hem of his shirt as he pulled it over his head, his knuckles white with suppressed frustration. jungwon's eyes darkened, his gaze flicking between you and sunghoon, anger and possessiveness clear in his expression. but before jay could interrupt the two of you, yuki waves you over, beckoning you to come to him and reels you in a conversation about hyunjin, the alpha you were going to meet.
after what felt like forever, and the piercing glares you received, yuki finally decides to leave. and now you were left with the boys, who were just about done wrapping up.
“you’re really going through with this?” jungwon asked, his voice tight as he stepped closer, his proximity causing your heart to race. “letting some other alpha take care of you?”
you tried to maintain your composure, shrugging nonchalantly. “why not? it’s the best option, jungwon. we all know the rules. i can’t mate with any of you. i have needs of my own.”
“rules,” sunghoon scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms over his chest. “i'm really starting to hate that fucking word.”
“i’m just trying to do what’s best,” you whispered, but the words felt hollow even to you.
“what’s best?” heeseung echoed, his voice soft but full of meaning as he stepped closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “or what’s easiest?”
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returning home, the atmosphere was even more suffocating. the moment you stepped through the door, it hit you—your heat, crashing over you like a wave, the intensity nearly overwhelming. the air was thick with their pheromones, reacting to the sudden change, amplifying the tension to an unbearable degree.
jake was the first to approach, his presence overwhelming as he came too close, his hand hovering near your arm. "you okay?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous. the concern in his eyes was real, but so was the desire, barely contained.
"i’m fine," you lied, trying to pull away, but the brush of his fingers against your skin sent a jolt through you, your body betraying you, craving more. you couldn’t stay near them, not like this—not when the pull was so strong, when every fiber of your being screamed at you to give in.
jungwon stepped closer, his voice softer, but his eyes were dark with something far more intense. "you don’t look fine. maybe we should... talk."
panic surged through you as it took everything in you to ignore him. your pulse quickened, each step toward your room feeling like a battle against the instincts threatening to take over. but just as you reached the hallway, heeseung stepped into your path, blocking your escape with an intensity in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.
"where do you think you’re going?"
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── .✦⸝⸝ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. open!
𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝?
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bimbosandbubbles · 11 months
Text
Truth or Dare?
Starring Bully Gojo and Geto
Synopsis- It’s freshmen year of college and for Gojo and Geto the year has been a little too boring—sure it’s only the first semester but c’mon it’s their first year being university students so why not make the year unforgettable? And for that reason they find themselves playing a dangerous game of truth or dare with their friends—a game that led them to YOU,their best form of oh so interesting entertainment.
Warning’s-noncon,dubcon,spitting,hair pulling,slapping,slight fingering,misogynistic behavior,filming noncon, double penetration,extreme humiliation,pussy eating,heavy degrading, creampie,breeding kink, multiple sexual scenes(not really sex happening),stalking,yandere,obsessive behaviors,thigh fucking, fatphobia,abuse of power(Gojo’s money and Geto’s connections),pussy slapping,emotional manipulation,blackmail,shoe licking,shoe fucking,extremely humiliating acts ,hairy pussy,stalking,rimming,loss of virginity,EXTREMELY SADISTIC BEHAVIOR!! TW THIS IS ALL FICTION! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ CHUBBY READER!
Wc-7.8k(Guys I cut off 6k more words to shorten the fic😭)
“Truth or dare?”
A white haired man turns to a man with long raven black hair,"What do you think Sugu'? Truth or dare?"
The male hums in thought,"I think truth,after all it's only the beginning of the game." Snow like hair bobs in acknowledgment,"Okay,we pick truth."
A wide smirk grows on the integrators face,"How many bitches have you fucked together?" Geto chuckles,"Do you always have to be so uncouth Naoya?" The said man shrugs,"That doesn't matter,just answer the fuckin question."
Geto decides to humor the man,for his and his best friends entertainment mostly. "Gojo how many would you say?" Gojo sighs—lazily leaning his lanky yet muscled frame against the back of a beat up couch. "Since we get here...uhhh probably like four. In high school probably like six."
"You've ever filmed any of em?" Naoya asks. Geto raises a neatly done brow up,"Why are you asking?" Naoya rolls his eyes,"I'm just askin there's no real reason behind it."  Gojo looks at Geto from the side of his eye,"Sugu' it's not that big of a deal to answer. Plus it's not like we have filmed any of them."
"I guess." Mutters Geto. Gojo loudly claps his hands and paints on a goofy smile onto his face. "Anyways...Naoya truth or dare?" The man sits back in wonder before answering,"Dare."
"Okay! I dare you to call the one girl in your phone that you'd have to be paid like a million dollars to ever fuck anddddd you have to ask her to send a pic of herself." Naoya voices annoyedly,"How the hell do I get her to send a pic of herself?"
Geto smartly suggests,"Lie.Make something up." The man with highlighted hair smirks,"That shouldn't be hard. She's a dumb bitch anyways."
Naoya scrolls through his contacts list and spots a contact dubbed "Piggy." Geto and Gojo lean over his shoulders to see the view and both of them wince once seeing the name. "She's fat?" Gojo asks. Naoya snickers,"Oh fuck yeah! She's fucking big as hell! I could never stick my dick in her."
Gojo chuckles,"I couldn't fuck a fat girl,seems like too much work." Geto adds on,"Yeah they're not really my type either....there's just too much everywhere for me." Naoya agrees as he presses on the contact,"They're all usually fucking ugly anyways. So it doesn't really matter."
Noaya's fingers press on the call symbol while he lets out one final chuckle. He presses one finger to his lips,signaling the pair of friends to shut up.  The man finally calls and the phone rings three times before it finally picks up.Naoya makes sure to put the phone on speaker. "Hello?" A sleepy voice calls out. "Hello (Reader)."
"Naoya what're you calling me so late for? I thought we finished everything for the project?" Naoya rolls his eyes,"Yeah well our introduction project isn't finished yet,I still need you to do something." Geto and Gojo don't miss the biting tone he speaks to you in. "Oh um well..I'm sorry I didn't think I missed anything."
"She sounds cute." Gojo whispers in the ravenettes ear. "Mmm." Geto hums in agreement.  "Yeah you should be sorry. But luckily for you  I'm nice so I'll allow you to still do it."
"Thank you? But anyways what do you need me to do?" Naoya smiles while looking back at the men," I need a picture of you." For a moment there's static silence—a silence that's riddled with confusion. "Umm why do you need a picture of me? Our project has nothing to do with ourselves."
"It's to prove our teamwork to the professor uhh how well we got along and shit like that." It's quiet until Naoya receives a dinging notification. "There you go,bye." The phone loudly hangs up while Naoya's jaw clenches in anger. "Fucking bitch hung up before I could."
"That doesn't matter show us the pic." Gojo says impatiently. "Fineee." The male opens up his messages and soon as he does he snickers. "I don't know why she tried to send me cute a one,she looks fucking stupid." Wrong. Naoya was so fucking wrong.
You don't look fucking stupid...you look so fucking cute. Your have such a pretty face—a face that needs to be came on. Those adorable fucking pudgy cheeks are just begging to be decorated with cum. And fuck those pretty lips you got—both Geto and Gojo just wanted to stick their dicks in your mouth.
They can't even see your body in the picture but they just know it's so fuckable. What do you have a cute pudge hanging down—a pouch of flesh keeping your pussy warm? Do you have warm doughy thighs that their fingers will just sink into the moment they touch the flesh? You just look so...soft. So wonderfully soft—plenty of soft sweet palpable skin just begging to be marked by them.
But despite Gojo's and Geto's shared thoughts—the lustful and wanton thoughts they wouldn't say that they want to fuck the ever living life out of you. They wouldn't disagree with Naoya saying you look fucking stupid. They wouldn't even admit they think you're attractive. Why? Because admitting a mere few minutes ago that you wouldn't fuck a fat girl and then switching up isn't the best look.
So what do the pair say when Naoya says that? Do they disagree and defend you? Do they admit the pure desire they have to want to be inside you? No they say," You're right she looks weird,let's just move onto the next round."
━━━━
"I didn't just leave her on the frats lawn! I at least gave her some cash to get herself home." Naoya proudly states.
"Wow,Noaya thank you so much for not being the worlds biggest douche." Geto states sarcastically.
"Whatever, don't act like you two aren't assholes yourselves. You may fool a bunch of bitches but I know how you really are."  Geto peers at Gojo,the man beside him. They both give each other a knowing look—a shared thought surging through the kept gaze. A gaze that screamed,"We're aware of what dicks we can be." Huge dicks who have left girls high and dry after telling them they love them—spewing lies straight from hell just to get their cocks wet a few times.
But are they really dicks if no one really cares to point out they are? Are they really assholes when women flock towards them even though it's known they'll only use them like a human fleshlight? They could thank their good looks,popularity,and Gojo's plentiful wealth for never being confronted for just how cruel they could really be.
Geto smirks,"I guess you could say we are assholes but at least we appear to be nice ones." Gojo hums,"Mhm but anyways it's your turn to ask us."
Naoya sits there,clutching his face in devious thought. "If you guys pick dare,you won't pussy out with anything I say,right?"
"Nah as long as it's nothing too illegal." Gojo answers. "Good cause I got something in mind. Truth or Dare?" The two best friends stare at each other once more,silently agreeing on an answer,"Dare."
Naoya laughs,acting like he just had the best idea in the whole world. "You fuckers set yourself up. This is going to be sooo funny." Gojo rolls his eyes,"Yeah,yeah,just get to the damn dare."
"I dare you to fuck with little miss piggy for me." Naoya cruelly states. "That girl you just showed us?" Gojo asks."  The question had a little too much enthusiasm,too much excitement for some girl he said looked weird. Hopefully it went unnoticed by Naoya though. "Yes that bitch."
"We'll do it but lemme ask why you wanna bother her?" Geto questions. The male shrugs,"Do I need a reason? She's annoying." Geto hums,"Alright I guess that's a good enough answer. But what's on the table for fucking with her?" The white haired male perks up at that,"Ooo yeah? How much can we bother her?"
"I don't really give a shit about what you do to her. Just ruin her,make her miserable. The only thing I want is some evidence that you're doing at least something." 
Make her miserable,huh? Ruin her? Does that include every part of you? Because Geto and Gojo had something wonderful in mind...just for lil ole you.
"Oh yeah,we can definitely do that." They both remark.
━━━━
"Okay,I think this is the last book I need." You whisper to yourself. See,today is a good day! Why? Because this is the day you're almost done researching for a extremely tedious paper. That means for just a few days you wouldn't have to shove countless information down your throat anymore.
So naturally your chubby hands reaches to grab the book that's placed on the fourth shelf. Just as your finger grazed the spine of the book a tall figure grabs it from behind you. Quickly you turn and see a raven haired man,staring at the book with faux interest.
"Umm, I'm sorry I was gonna grab that...it's really important that I have it." You say politely. The male raises a thin brow,"Is it not important for me too? I might need it even more than you do." Immediately you feel yourself heat up from embarrassment," Oh no no!  I didn't mean it like that—I just really really need that book. Im so sorry if I came off uncaring."
Cute. Geto's just starting the fun with you and he already wants to stuff his dick in your mouth. You don't even need to worry about some dumb book,you could just warm his cock all day. Besides the way your dressed right now it's like you want him to tear your clothes off and fuck you. Those denim shorts that are showing off those thick thighs and that damn thin white tank top you got on really shows a lot he wants to see. The pudge of your tummy just clings to the fabric so deliciously—it's tempting so tempting for the man to just reach out and grip the pudge but he resists the urge.
But still despite how cute he finds you,he still needs to make your little life unbearable. So he says,"Well I need this book more." With that he "kindly" smiles and walks off. He leaves you there,mouth agape and eyes wide. Did he really just—DID HE JUST TAKE THE BOOK?
Angrily you call out,"Hey! I need that book." The man continues walking,ignoring you completely. With a mission you charge after the male,keeping his speedy pace until you bump right into someone. Broken from the determined haze you were just in you look and see the person you slammed into.
It's odd,you swear no one was in front of you before and then suddenly someone just came in front of you. No matter how weird it really is though,apologizing and catching up with the book thief is more important.
"Omg I'm so sorry! Are you okay! I was just in a rush—" The very tall man you just bumped into places a long finger on your lips. The sheer boldness of the action instantly shutting you up. "I don't wanna hear it. Ya know,you should definitely be more careful. People are not as nice as me."
He leans down,shortening his noticeable height ,"But since I'm sooo nice all I'm gonna ask if you to beg on your knees for my forgiveness." The hell? Who does this guys think he is? The president? You weren't gonna beg for forgiveness just for bumping into someone?! Hell no!
" Look I'm sorry, but I'm not doing all that just for bumping into you! Don't you hear how fucking crazy you sound?" You snatch his finger away from your lips and cross your arms angrily. He chuckles,"Oh so you wanna act all tough? Fine,I didn't wanna threaten you this early,that was gonna be some fun for later but since you're a lil stubborn I guess the hard way is for you."
Your brows pinch together in frustration and confusion. Who is this guy? Acting like he's all high and mighty? Can he even threaten you when he doesn't know you? Yeah,right. You're sick of this already.
You attempt to move past the male,too sick and tired of precious time being taken away from you. But you're stopped by a veiny large hand that's securely wrapped your wrist. He yanks you to his chest,"Ya know,it's not very nice to walk away while someone's talking to you.I thought you were a polite girl." His warm breath travels all the way to the back of your neck. It's oddly...intimate and sexual for someone you just encountered.
"Be a good girl and beg or else I'll get you out of this university so fucking fast and then I'll tell someone in every single university in the radius you're a fucking cheat. I can go even farther than that if that doesn't scare you enough." He mutters. Chills run across your spine—it's scary,the threat,it holds so much weight but no way some guy you just bumped into has the power to do that,right?
"Y-You can't do that!" The exclamation is a unsteady one,you yourself not even believing that. For some reason this stranger just oozes so much effortless authority—so much power that's unexplainable. It's confusing but still it instills some type of fear in you. "Oh can't I?" His tone is cocky—assured fully in just what exactly he's capable of. Scary—it's scary how confident he's in ruining your educational career.
"Are you taking me a little serious now,hmm? Do you think you should take my good grace and get on your knees already?" It's no big deal,right? If you just get on your knees now,you'd probably never see the man again. This university is big and no way the man would make an attempt to find you—a complete stranger.
Would a little humiliation be so bad if you never see him again? "Are you? Or are you gonna just stand there like an idiot?" Nervously you gulp before facing the man and sinking down to your knees. As you level yourself at his feet you can't help but stare at the rich brown leather that his shoes are made of.
You look up at him and instantly Gojo's glad he chose to his dark sunglasses today. He could feel his pupil dilate as soon so you kneeled for him. Everything about you looked sooo good on your knees—those pretty lips parted slightly because of nerves—your thick thighs squishing together and fuck those gorgeous tits that are just peeking out of your tank top,just begging to be fondled with his big hands.
"Are you gonna start begging or do I gotta force your mouth to move too?" You shake your head no and gulp down a lot of pride and self respect. "Please uhhh—" you pause to search for the man's name. "Gojo. It's Gojo."
"Gojo,please forgive me. It was a mistake and I'm so so sorry." You think your apology is good enough but what you think isn't always right. The man scoffs as a big hand completely palms the whole crown of your head—pushing your body to bend straight down. The tip of your nose kisses the carpeted floor of the library.
" Ah,ah, You're supposed to lean all the way down like a good girl,yeah? Now do it again." Your clammy and stubby hands angrily and tearfully grip the fine hair of the carpet. This is just so...humiliating it hurts every ounce of self respect you have contained in your body.
"Gojo,please forgive me. I'm so sorry." He hums and places his large hand on your head,"I forgive you...for now." With that the man removes his hand and quickly announces his exit. "Thank you for the apology,don't be so clumsy next time."
You watch as his long limber legs make their way farther and farther away from you. Your nose still kisses the carpet—a reminder of the humiliation that was just acted on by the man casually strolling away. The humiliation being so damn demeaning you no longe care for retrieving your much needed book back.
But it would be okay,right? It would be okay cause you'll never see Gojo again. You haven't seen him before and you won't see him again.
You could just move on from this right? Is the thought you have as your eye stay trained on his brown leather shoes.
━━━━
Have you ever been more more wrong before? So irritatingly wrong?
Because both the mysterious man who unfortunately learned is Geto, and Gojo from the library have not left you alone since.
Everywhere you go there they are! Always calling you mean names,like slut or whore. Always taking away your stuff away from you. Always threatening you. And worse—always finding you.
And that is the exact reason why you're stuck between the two—pushed against a random wall in a hallway. "You wanna runaway from me and Geto,some more? Huh,(Reader)?"
You shake your head rapidly and squeak as Gojo's large hand reaches out and grips your tucked pudge that's hidden well within the high waisted material. "D-Don't grip me like that!" You squeak. "Like what? Like a slut? Cause you are a little slut." Gojo remarks.
"I'm not a slut!" Your words are met with chuckles,true genuine laughter for something that wasn't even a joke. "Mmm then why are you always with those lil dorks after hours? You prolly let them cum in you. You prolly let them spit in your pussy and mouth,don't you slut?"
You start to tear up and resist Gojo's grip but it only gets tighter. "Maybe you wouldn't see me hanging out with my friends if you guys weren't always stalking me! Just leave me alone! You don't even know me! I've never even done anything to you!"
"You think we're stalking you? You think we're genuinely interested in someone like you?" Geto chuckles. "Yeah,we know you're a little slow but to think that is on another level of delusion."  Gojo adds. Liars,the both of them know that they're watching you. Keeping tabs on every single move you make,every person you talk to,every time you go out,anything—just so they know when to strike. They told themselves it's not cause they like what they do to—they don't like seeing you beg and plead,they don't like humiliating to the brink of tears—absolutely not. Liars.
"Oh and you've never done anything to us? Hmm,I can remember you fighting for that book pretty hard. I think you may have pushed me,right Gojo? You saw her push me?" Gojo hums,"Hmmm,yeah I swear I saw her. She was so mean to you. And not to mention she didn't even wanna apologize to me for rudely bumping into me."
"What the fuck??! I didn't even push him! I know for a fact I didn't! And last time I checked you just randomly popped up and bumped into me!" You make sure to face backwards and points towards Gojo. "Ah,Ah she's got a little potty mouth,doesn't she Gojo?"
"Mhm,that's not very ladylike (Reader)." Gojo says. "We can't have that,can we?" Behind you the white haired male shakes his head. Gojo's lengthy fingers dig into your tummy even more,sinking the dull tips of his nails deeper.
"You should learn not to talk like that but don't worry Gojo and I will help you learn,m'kay?" How? How—can someone look so kind,so calm while plotting to do something humiliating to you? It doesn't' matter how or why because Geto is still standing over you—kind smile and welcoming eyes gently intimidating you.
"So,open your mouth like a good girl for me and say ahh!" Geto demands. You shake your head no and quickly tuck your lips together. He tuts—disapproving of your stubbornness. "You wanna make it hard for yourself—Fine be that way then. But you will open your mouth for me."
Geto's relative distance to you shortens as he walks closer and closer to you—pushing your body against Gojo's even more. "Gojo pull up her shirt."
"No—NO! D-Don't!" You thrash against Gojo but once more he tightens his grip on your pudge. "You should've listen to Sugu the first time." Gojo mutters as he lifts up your shirt revealing a pastel pink bra. The glasses adorning man whistles,"Is that lace? Who are you wearing that for? Hmm? Is it for me and Sugu,little slut?"
"N-No!" You whimper. "Oh so it's for somebody else?" Geto asks. "No." You reply back. "Mmm so you're wearing something"—Geto's large hand reaches to pinch the strap of the bra—"this pretty just for no one to see it? I don't believe that."
"I think just for her lying you should give her double punishment." Gojo encourages. "Yeah? I think so too. Lil slut won't learn if we aren't a little hard on her."
"Gojo make her open her mouth." Geto says as if they share the same brain—having the same thoughts riddling their in synced minds. Long fingers trace their way down your tummy,teasing the beginning of where your high waisted pants start until finally a loud gasp collapses off your tongue when they're pulled down—revealing the smooth fat that rests on your middle.
You think he's gonna start groping your boobs but instead the pale hands begin gripping your tummy—kneading the skin oh so well that his fingers mush into it. "Oh!" You gasp. And it's cute ,so cute that Gojo's dicks throbs in his loose fitting jeans. Would you make that noise when he puts it inside you? When he makes you swallow his spit? How about when he makes you hump his big thigh while in public?
Gojo's taken away from his thoughts once he hears Geto's familiar voice. "Mmm you got her to open her mouth." Geto hums in approval,"Look at how good her mouth looks open. I think she really is a little slut."
The black haired man pulls your cheeks apart and sticks his middle appendage in your mouth—your tongue crashing against the skin like a giant wave. "Mhmpp!" You move against Gojo once more,droplets of salty tears starting to pour out of you. "Shhh don't fight...take your punishment."
You watch in horror as Geto puckers his lips and translucent liquid drips down his lips—realizing that his lips start getting closer and closer to you.
Until finally you feel wet—degrading liquid coat your lax tongue. The cool saliva coats your mouth,traveling the whole expanse of your open cavern.
"Swallow." You know it's not a question or even a pushy request—it's a command. A reminder that you're under their thumbs like a mouse who's constantly running away from a cat. It's sickening so sickening—so beneath you to be treated like an object yet you find yourself swallowing your pride and gulping down the spit.
"Good whore." Geto mutters. His long finger pops against your inner cheek as he takes it out of your mouth. He pats your chubby cheek and wipes your saliva on your half exposed chest.
"Mmm this kinda bored me." Gojo remarks. Geto hums and backs away from you,"Yeah this pig is kinda not entertaining me anymore. Wanna get something to eat?"  The tall man that was positioned behind you snakes his to way over to  Geto.
Leaving you to watch as they casually saunter off but Gojo suddenly stops his big strides. "Oh and (Reader),"his tones lowers a bit—scarily so,"don't let us see you hanging out with those guys again. Or we'll actually do something to you."
You stand there in shock—shirt ridden up to your chest and pants flashing bits of your panties. Gojo smiles at you,but it's not a pleasant one—a smile that makes you want to run and hide. They both continue walking and you watch,counting and waiting the steps to see if they're far enough so you can quietly sob.
The moment they get far enough you slide down the cool wall and break out in a array of tears. All you can think is why you? What'd you ever do to anyone to have your life be meddled with so cruelly?
WHY YOU?
━━━━━━━━
"I regret not taking pics." The white haired man pouts. Geto chuckles," There's always next time."
"But she only looked like that awhile ago. Her bra looked so pretty that day. I wished I filmed her swallowing your spit. She looked so fucking cute Sugu...I just wanna stick my dick in her mouth. I wanna make her embarrassed like that again,so fucking bad."
The male smiles amusedly at his friends whines,however he feels the same,he wishes to see you like that all over again. "I think we should  give her a visit soon. We haven't seen her in like what two weeks?" Geto and Gojo knows that's not true,they have seen you actually but you haven't seen them. They always check up on you at certain points during the day—making sure you're listening to them about the people you're hanging out and it makes them so damn proud when they see you alone and avoiding all your male friends. You're such a obedient girl.
"Oh thank God! This time I actually wanna do something with her,I've been thinking about what she feels like. And I want you to film it. "
Gojo says enthusiastically. "What do you have in mind?" The bright blue eyed man smiles widely,"You'll see."
━━━━━
"(Reader) are you sure you don't wanna come and watch a movie with us?" The kind voice halts your motions of packing up for the day.
"Nah,I'm sure. I'm gonna catch up on homework so I need the extra time." You explain with a smile. "Alright,but text me if you change your mind. The movie doesn't start for a few more hours."
You nod and wave as your kind classmate walks out the door. You're about done packing up until your trusty mechanical pencil begins rolling down the rows and isles of the seats.
"Dang it." You sigh and annoyedly crouch down—following the pencils straight arrow path. You take tiny steps in order for your bigger body to keep up with the quick pace of the rolling writing device.
Finally it stops at the third row—leaning against the leg of a mahogany chair. You bend down to get it with a smile etched on your face but as you reach to grab it a hauntingly familiar brown leather shoe is planted in front of you.
Suddenly you forget to breath—fear and anxiety grasping the natural function away from you. That same fear making you incapable of looking up to see intimidating bright blue irises.
It's quiet—too quiet and that's what makes it worse for you. You feel like prey—being teased,chased,stalked on, by two superior animals who are waiting to take the final kill.
"Do you wanna stay there on your knees for me or are you gonna greet me?" Jolly is the only way you can describe Gojo's voice—which makes his words only 10x times worse to hear. Ever since you encountered him in the library and attempted to forget him all you got was all too much of him. After the incident you've constantly been hearing about the "Great Gojo", the impossibly handsome trust fund baby of the university. The Gojo who's cute and loud and funny—it makes you wish you knew him due to different circumstances so you could admire him just like everyone else.
No,you had to remind yourself that this isn't the case. Instead you'd get bullied and assaulted by him and his friend Geto.
"Hello?? Is anyone there?" Gojo bends down and prods at your forehead,roughly poking it. "Do you think she heard me Sugu?" Gojo asks. "I dunno let's see." Geto's large hand suddenly rushes to your face and grips the warm flesh together. Both of the handsome men sneer at you and condescendingly share a glance with one another.
"I think someone is home but they're too shy to answer."  Geto peers down at you before he whispers,"Shhh it's okay,me and Toru just missed you so much. We just need you to be good for us,m'kay?"  You look up at him with wonder—confused by the oh so sweet tone of his voice. It almost makes you feel safe and cared for—almost is the keyword here. Because in only a few seconds your hair is suddenly yanked,having long fingers tangled in it. "I expect an answer when I say anything to you." Geto grunts into your ear.
"Y-Yes!" You whimper out. A warm wet kiss is placed on your chubby cheek as the black hair
man praisingly remarks,"Good job!" 
"Since you're gonna be for good for Gojo and me I want you to do something, okay?" You nod and mumble a fearful okay. "Good,now take off your panties and give them to Gojo."
You gulp down a wad of spit as you nervously and shamefully stand up and start quickly sliding off your panties. By the time you get the plain white cotton undies to your ankles Gojo's expectant hand is waiting for you—and like he was expecting you hand the worn material to him.
He places the pair of panties into his pocket and grins at you happily.  
Geto's voice rings out,"Now get on his shoe." Snapped out of your fearful daze you yell,"WHAT? I'm not doing that! That's so gross and unsanitary." Gojo pouts,"What's wrong with my shoe? It's not good enough for you?"
"No! That's so gross! No way in hell am I doing that!" You attempt to stand up right and walk away from the pair but a large hand pushes you back down. The force of the body part making you whimper by the sheer power. "Nu uh Geto already filmed you taking off your panties for me. If you walk away we'll have no choice but to show everyone at this university what a dirty slut you are. How would you like that,hmm?"
You mouth flaps open in shock,since when did Geto have a chance to do that?? When did he even take out his phone? You turn and there you see the cellular device pointed right at you. You thought you were screwed then but now...they actually have something way worse to use against you.
Gojo smiles at your realization," So now are you gonna put that pussy on my shoe?" You look up at him and defeatedly turn to still see that Geto's filming and you simply just give in.
You waddle closer to Gojo's foot and set your bare pussy on the rich material—the thick pubes on your mound making contact with the shoe. You can't help but gasp by how cool it feels,it feels new,almost good.
"Move." Gojo says. You look up at the man and gasp once you see and hear how different he looks. His voice sounds less high—lacking the usual teasing and playful tone he talks in. And his eyes—his normally bright blue eyes are now toned down,muddled with dark lust and eagerness.
Your clit bumps and grinds on the expensive laces as you try to set a pace on your own. You huff and whine at the oddly good sensation.
You lean your face on Gojo's pants,slightly biting into the material to hush down your pleasured noises. It feels good because it's so degrading and so wrong—yet you can't deny how wet begin to you feel the more you thrust against the man.
"Mmmf!" Is the noise you're making as you hide your face into his legs,teary eyes closed in hated bliss and ashamed mouth taut open in pleasure. How disgusting you are—enjoying fully how good this is making you feel. You're riding a man's shoe for gods sake, but you can't bring yourself to care anymore. Not when your poor hole is opening and closing for nothing. Not when you you can feel four eyes staring at you get yourself off.
"Look at you,such a fat slut. And you tried to act like you didn't want me and Sugu's attention. Dirty slut." You hear a wet noise of Gojo's mouth right before warm hot spit lands on your forehead. You go to wipe it away but Geto's hand grips your wrist,"Don't,you'll ruin your pretty face. Leave it."
You nod and silently gasp once you see the angry bulges of the two men. It makes you even wetter once you see how aroused this made them. Geto seems to noticed your focus gaze,"Aww do you wanna actually see some dicks in real life? Hmm,is that what you want whore?"
Your mouth almost forms the word yes until you remember these men aren't some friends with benefits or boyfriends—no they're bullies who enjoy seeing you struggle. So with that reminder you shake your head no and go to hide your face in Gojo's leg only to feel a hot sting run across your plump cheek. "Liar. Gojo get her off your foot. I'm gonna show her something."
"Aww but I was enjoying watching her! At least let her clean the mess up." Geto rolls his eyes,"Alright,make it quick." Gojo smiles happily before he peers down on you,"Lick." He's not specific because you already know what he wants you to place your tongue on. You stare down where you placed your cunt at and feel grossed out. However,you know one way or another you're going to have to lick his shoe. And you'd rather not get another burning slap from Geto.
So you prod your tongue out,lapping at your own juices placed on the man's costly shoe.
You taste yourself and the taste of oddly wood like leather. It taints your palate,making you scrunch your face in distain as you finish the task. You look up at Gojo and he seems so enthralled—his chest is heaving and his pink lips are slightly agape in surprise? You can't tell but he just looks so fascinated by you. "Wow,you really are a slut." He breathlessly chuckles.
"Mmm,she really is. Anyway take her to the desk Gojo,make sure she's bent over."  Without warning Gojo pulls you by your underarms and walks you to the desk. He pushes you down onto it,his hand presses down on your roll adorned back to keep your stomach flat against the desk. You feel him move from behind you,changing his position to be in front of you.
Suddenly you feel a warm hand graze against your dimpled ass—long fingers sinking into the supple flesh. "Now since you wanna lie and act like a fucking prude Imma make you see how badly you want our dicks."
For a few seconds you're left waiting to see what happens. It's suspenseful so suspenseful that you're even staring at Gojo in anticipated wonder. THACK! Is all Gojo hears along with a pained cry.Hot tingles flows though out your pussy—burning sensation fleeting in the wet organ.
"That's what happens when you're not being honest. Your lil pussy gets punished. If you want it stop I just need you to be honest with me. Say you want our dicks inside you."
Your bottom lip trembles pathetically,"I want your dicks inside me." Another harsh slap rains down on your cunt. "Again! You're not saying it like you mean it." This time you force your voice to be louder,"I want your dicks inside me!" Geto leans forward until his warm breath can be felt on your face and his big hand yanks your head back. "Now look at the camera and say you want our dicks inside you."
You defeatedly look up at the iPhone camera held in Gojo's large hands,"I want your dicks inside me!" Geto let's go of your hair and stands straight,"Good cause we're gonna give it to you." Two hands spread your thighs open and something large and veiny fills the empty space between them. "But you don't deserve any dicks inside you yet. You should've been honest the first time."
Geto grabs your supple waist and grips your tummy from below—with a snap of his hips he's brushing his cock against your inner thighs. Each thrust his rough and fast paced,forcing your head to bob up and down the desk. The graze of his dick against your throbbing clit pulls occasional whimpers and whines from your lips.
On the other side of desk Gojo unbuttons his pants—pale fingers rubbing against the expanse of his tight briefs. "Touch it." Gojo demands. You look up at him as you reach and feel the constant pulse of his cock. It's warm,so warm that the heat is comforting to your whole body in the cool lecture room.
You cup the thick shape protruding from the pure white material and start moving up and down. Gojo pushes himself into your hand—his once opened eyes closed in pleasure. The camera continues to peer down at you as your lays lip on his covered cock."S-Shit pull em down." The camera continues to peer down at you as your lays lip on his covered cock.You obey the pleading man,gripping the beginning of his underwear until his oozing cock is revealed.
A gasp falls from your lips at the sheer beauty of it. You stare points blank at his pre cum ridden tip that's oh so rosy. Your thumb finger graces the slit—going up and down on it,feeling his dick get harder and harder. Though, before you can really get a good grip on it one hard thrust from Geto pulls you away from him.
"Aww Sugu...you messed her up." Gojo whines. "Calm down you can use another part of her in a little bit. Switch spots with me." Gojo huffs but obeys Geto. The white haired places his still filming phone onto the desk. The ravenette ends up in front of you,his girthy dick resting on the desk right next to your face. "Have you sucked dick before you?" Geto asks. "N-No." You quietly reply.
"Mmm,of course you haven't. What loser would wanna get sucked off by you?" Liar. Geto's been dreaming of having those pretty lips surround his cock—of slapping your face and cradling those chubby cheeks you have on you. Choking you with his dick while you're all teary eyed and begging for air. But he doesn't hate you,no not at all,this was just a dare that he's happening to be enjoying.
So since it's your first he's gonna go easy on you. "Wait does that mean you've never been fucked before?" Gojo says excitedly. "Mhm." The confirmation makes Gojo's and Geto's dick jump. This is great! No one's been inside before so that really means you're really all theirs,their personal fuck toy who's only been fucked by them. After months of planning how they're gonna pop up into your life and destroy what you've known before,they're finally getting award.
"But that means I gotta stretch you out first,huh?" Gojo dejectedly says.  "I know just the way." Gojo sinks down go to his knees and pulls your waist closer to him. You feel cool air fan your warm pussy.  Lanky fingers spread your lips apart,pulling the coarse pubes away from the another. The sheer slick of your pussy laying and slicking them down to the mound.
"You surprisingly have a real pretty pussy. It's perfect for taking dick. Too bad no one else is really gonna want it." Untrue,Gojo really wants it. He's been wanting it since Naoya showed that picture to him. He's been craving the feeling of sinking into you and fulling you up. Craving to grip your round tummy as he pounds into you,drilling every single last sperm into you.
A long wet tongue licks the expanse of it,the sensation draining a surprised whine from you. "Mmm, while he warms you up Imma give you a lesson on how to suck." Geto leans down so his face his leveled with yours. He grabs Gojo's phone and points it towards him and you. He points out his index and pointer finger,pressing the digits against your lips. "What I want you to do is ease these into your mouth,okay?"
You nod and your mouth drops open as you feel Gojo's long tongue dig into your cunt. "Mmmf!" You whine.  You attempt to only take the tips of Geto's fingers but you rush them into your mouth as you feel more pleasure. Geto roughly taps your face,"I said ease,don't take it all in." You look up at him and just suck on the tips of his fingers. "Good girl,like that until I say so."
Gojo releases his tongue from your hole,instead prodding into your entrance with his fingers. He slips one in and then two,slowly scissoring you open with each curl of his fingers. Geto pushes more of his fingers into your mouth,almost reaching the back of your throat. You gag and attempt to move away from him only to have your head held in place. "Stay. Breath through your nose."
Taking his advice,you hurriedly stable your breathing. Your eyes bubble with tears and your face contorts in uncomfortableness.  Finally you're full of relief once Geto slides his fingers out of your mouth. "Good. I think you're ready for the real thing now,huh?"
"Y-Yes." Geto smiles,"Good slut,you learn so fast. You're meant to be a whore for us." Gojo pulls his fingers from your entrance. Geto faces the camera directly on you,"Are you ready to be fucked?" You look up at the camera—flashes of all the treatment you've endure from these two,constant examples of cruelty for no reason course through your memory's, yet you want so badly to mutter the words yes please.  You want to be fucked by them,want to know what it's like to have someone inside you.
"Please." Pathetic,weak but you don't care. You've given in one last time and your decision is rewarded with a almost loving kiss from Geto.  Gojo practically mounts you as he rests his muscular chest on you,he plants a kiss on the back of your neck that could be seen as a sweet praise or an apology for what he does next.
Without a single warning Gojo sheaths himself in you. You scream and writhe against the wooden desk but Gojo grips your violent body. "It's okay,just take it. Take it."
"I think it's my turn now." Geto looks down at you right before he plunges his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widen and you don't have time to process what's even happening. All you can do it feel. Feel the slowly pleasurable feeling inside your pussy and feel Geto's thick dick go in and out of your mouth.
The more you begin to feel the better all the overstimulation is. Suddenly Gojo's downright stretch feels so fucking wonderful as thrusts in you. Geto grips onto your hair,guiding your face to go deeper on his dick. "F-Fuck,good slut. Good whore. Imma cum if you keep letting me fuck your face like this."
Minute after minute,you can't catch a break. Not when Gojo's snaps his hips into you like a animal. Like he's so desperate to stay in you—drowned in the utter wet and warmness you offer him. "Good girl,good girl! This pussy feels good! So good!" The blue eyed man babbles.
You feel your oxygen slowly leave you and you roughly tap on Geto’s legs. He frees himself of your mouth and instead busies himself with slapping his heavy cock onto your face as you catch your breath. You can’t even do that though because Gojo reaches from under you and rubs your clit with a passion.
Moan upon moan leaves your mouth,like a broken record playing over and over again. Your song is becomes muffled once Geto finds his cock in your slack mouth. You quiver underneath Gojo as you feel a hot feeling tingle with in you.
You were gonna cum,so soon. With three snaps of Gojo hips you come undone and you begin to lose feeling everywhere. You feel like a lifeless fuckdoll,just a cocksleeve for Gojo and Geto’s dicks.
Gojo feels you cum and groans,”Shitttt I’m close.” Although Geto doesn’t agree verbally his thrusts in your mouth become more hurried and desperate. In and out is all you can feel.
It feels like hours of tortuous pleasure. A sick sadistic game being toiled onto your body. But it ends once hot,warm fluid courses in your walls. “Mmmmmm!” Is all the men can hear from you. Gojo pulls out and Geto pulls one last thrust into your mouth before he cums all the way down into your throat.
He grips his dick and slides it out. You hurry to swallow his seed and almost choke due to the quickness.
It’s quiet throughout the big classroom,only heavy breathing being heard. Geto looks down at you having Gojo’s phone in hand and travels the entirety of your body. He finally tosses it to him and the man catches it quietly.
Geto bends down so he’s once again on your level,”I’m telling you this now and I want you to know I mean it. You,your body,everything that makes you a person belongs to us.” Each word is said with such powerful emphasis that all you can do is silently agree.
An agreement that leads you down a interesting path with the pair.
━━━━━━
From a game of truth and dare,to bullying,to becoming fond of you ,all the way to fucking you every single day,to adorning you with the proper title of their girl.
The two have learned some truth from a juvenile game. They learned that they’ve should’ve never met you,should’ve never crossed paths with you because now they’re completely and utterly infatuated with you. Even if they cover it up with insults and threats,they’d go crazy if other people had you like how they have.
Reblogs area greatly appreciated🫶🏽🫶🏽!!
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bertoyana · 4 months
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i'm so sorry i don't want to be the "the party ended 5 years ago and he's still here" person but dark phoenix's final scene is still SO funny to me. especially to see how erik plays charles like a fiddle
like: he shows up with NO helmet AND a chess set. (he did this last time in days of the future past, and it worked, right? so it should work again, right? right???)
so, he sits, completely uninvited mind you, and he tries (and fails terribly bless his heart) at starting a normal conversation, he asks charles about his retirement, probably trying to get charles to like, talk about it or whatever
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(rip erik's hairline)
charles is not having any of it, which... valid. the last time he and erik had a full conversation, erik told him to shut the fuck up 
anyways, erik realizes his failed attempt at being casual did NOT work like he wanted, so he pulls out plan b - he calls charles his old friend (which, if you pay attention, in the prequels they use 'old friend' as a term to de-escalate the situation)
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which WORKS, for some reason, and charles immediately deflates and gives erik the tiniest smile in existence, because erik showing he cares always seems to do it for charles lmao
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(he's so embarrassing . god bless. @ x men: is this your leader)
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anyhow, erik pulls out the second part of his plan b - he asks charles if he wants to play a game. still playing casual. just two buddies. just two guys. some guys. just some friends having a toootal normal n casual conversation.
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and you can immediately see charles close himself up, he crosses his arms and avoids looking erik in the eye. erik managed to soften him up with the 'old friend' and having his helmet off, but it's not enough YET so erik pulls out his plan c. luckily his last one, christ, charles really does like to keep them waiting doesn't he
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keep an eye on erik's entire demeanor in this scene, his position is not closed off like charles', he's open, he leans on the table, and maintains eye contact with charles. his head is tilted to one side and everything, completely harmless
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i'm so obsessed with charles' microexpressions here james mcavoy you are so insane
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anwyays, charles uncrosses his arms and his position does come off a little more open, but if you watch the scene you can see him shake his head. this obviously touches him - but he's probably intending to say still no. probably because he has the biggest martyr complex i've ever seen in a fictional character 
so, erik pulls up his fucking plan d (lol) and hopefully this time IT WILL be the last. he pulls the pawn out of his jacket pocket.
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(why the fuck is this played like a fucking romantic scene i'm so serious, why is he smiling to himself like that)
mind you, erik had the pawn in his pocket the entire time, which could mean either of two things:
charles looks surprised/confused the entire scene, but in THIS part he doesn't look confused, he just looks like he's still trying to figure out what erik is trying to do. so it either means erik makes charles play this 'guess where it's hiding' game all the time (????) which doesn't really sound likely for him to do, but erik is always begging charles to get into his head so it wouldn't surprise me if he actually did this every time. god knows he's desperate enough or
erik was expecting charles to reject his offer right away, and had multiple other plans shoved up his ass if this was the case. this also seems likely, he's obsessive enough to have thought multiple ways through. 
anyways, he puts his two fists up and pulls up the most mortal sentence in existence. one he knows charles won't be able to deny him
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"just ONE game 🥺 for old time's sake???? 🥺🥺🥺" man stfu you are 62 years old GET UPPPP 
anyways - pay attention to his wording. 
"just one game" because erik came ALLLL this way for charles, so charles might as well play ONE game with him, and then erik could be gone - if charles wanted it that way. 
"for old's time sake" when things were easier and when they were more at peace - when they were on each other's side. when they were together and the mansion, just after charles had saved him and gave him a hom- oh wait 
(also, there's 100% a hidden meaning here. and there’s also a 100% chance i’m reaching but idc. the pawn could be in his left hand or his right. the possibility is 50/50. the only way charles could know with 100% certainty was if he entered erik's mind - if he took up erik's offer. but he could also not get into erik's mind and just... guess and fail - by thus, not taking erik's offer. erik is giving him an out, a choice to make the first move)
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(and the chess piece he offers charles a WHITE pawn. the white pieces are the first ones to move. 
also also if you have paid attention to the previous movies, erik is always the one to use the white pieces, this is the first movie where we see charles play with white)
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anyways, charles does struggle a bit with the choice, but ultimately he decides to accept erik's proposal and """guesses""" right.  
and going from erik's... entire face and smirk lmao i'm guessing charles went into his head to get it right. mind you, this is like sex for them
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charles accepts - erik is very relieved to know he's not the only one who's down horrendously. and after the worst guessing game in history (seriously, the pawn was in erik's right pocket and then he had it hidden in his right hand... man i guessed that shit and i'm not even a telepath) they start rearranging the board
so anyway, erik gives charles this look like he wants to climb him like a tree, which means that playing edward 'down embarrassingly bad' rochester in jane eyre (2011) finally fucking paid off
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erik doesn't even blink mind you, and charles doesn't take his eyes off erik either way, which means they are just STARING at each other without blinking for god knows how long LMAOOO 😭😭😭
once everything is said and done, erik makes a silly little joke and charles rebuts. then erik gives him the biggest smile i've ever seen him give to someone since magda, and then he follows it up with a smaller, softer smile with no teeth
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seeing this for the first time in the theater was like getting shot in the chest, no joke
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mind you erik stopped trying like three minutes ago but for some reason, the first time we finally see charles soften up in the ENTIRE movie is after he sees erik smiling at him. which could mean nothing.
and the thing is: charles does have a big heart, and he means well, most of the time, but he also doesn’t necessarily has… the best way of showing it with his actions lol. erik knows this, and he knows charles has a thing for lost causes, for people the society has given up on. charles threw himself into the freezing water to save erik - even when he didn't KNOW him. 
AND he also knows charles has the biggest soft spot for him, he KNOWS - because all those years ago, charles' biggest accussation wasn't "you paralyzed me" it was "you left me". because after erik lost his wife and daughter, charles rushed to find him, to make sure he was okay. because nine years ago, charles looked at apocalypse and said "fuck you you are twisting erik's grief, and you are hurting him" to A GOD BTW. TO HIS FUCKING FACE NO FUCKS GIVEN AT ALL
tldr: call erik the fucking violinist because boy he sure knows how to play charles like a fucking instrument and how to press all the right keys to get him to say yes to him. he gave charles an out if he didn't want to come with him, but he also came PREPARED for it, mind you, he came PREPARED to take charles with him to genosha. he didn't get to take charles with him 30 years ago, and he was going to be dammed if he didn't take charles with him NOW (this time with no bullet wound and no helmet lol)
and the most insane thing to me is, that he knows charles has a soft spot for him, he's known this for 30 years, and yet, the only time he uses it in his favor is to get charles to say yes to him on this. the only time he uses it is when he thinks he can do something to help charles - to give him back all the kindness charles gave to him 30 years ago. 
anways i'm insane. i'll be back here eating glass if you need me. i'm so normal about them. simon kinberg broke something in me 5 years ago
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vanessagillings · 6 months
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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  
I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?
If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 
So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 
It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.
But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.
If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:
What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz
We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia
Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess
Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD
Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom
Neurotribes by Steve Silberman
(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).
Thanks for reading 💛
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myfictionaldreams · 8 months
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Subspace // Batboys x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel introduces Rhysand and Cassian to Subspace, with your help, of course.
A/N: Please make sure to read the tags before reading. Specifically for the breathplay aspect, as it's nearly to the point of passing out. This is also a reminder that this is a work of fiction and not a way to teach fetishes; if I have described anything wrong, then I apologise; this is just my interpretation of a specific scenario. It is not real. Please stay safe out there if trying different kinks, only practice with those you trust!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, Polyamory, Mates, creampie, size kink, dom/sub undertones, rough sex/oral, restraints, praise kink, masturbation, subspace (!), discussion of safe words, multiple orgasms (!), crying, overstimulation, fingering, breathplay (!!), nearly passing out, cum eating, past emotional abuse (ex), aftercare
Words:6.4 k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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Unsure as to who was louder with their orgasmic cries, you or Cassian, as he pumps you full with his seed, the pulse of his cock matching the time of your fluttering cunt. Not only was Cassian’s cum coating your inners, mixing with your slick, but also that of his High Lord, who had thoroughly filled you moments before. A steady creamy puddle had been dripping out of your delicate hole and was saturating the satin bedsheets beneath.
It was a beautiful sight to Cassian as he tried to catch his breath, staring down at where you were both still connected as his firm hands clenched around your thighs where he was currently pressing your legs so far back that your knees and ears almost touched.
You always mused that you thought he looked like a God when he looked like this. Yes, others who had witnessed your mate on the battlefield, in charge of his High Lord's armies and defeating the enemies, was a sight to behold and often had people whispering for the Mother.
You agreed with this astonishment, but when seeing him like this, naked, muscles flexing from the exertion, a sweaty sheen over his body that caused his hair to stick to his face and the pure dominance that radiated from his energy. Cassian was beautiful, as was each of your mates, but with his cock currently still stretching you full, there was no one else on your mind but him.
Cassian’s full mouth twisted into an all-knowing, arrogant smirk as he gazed down at your lust-filled eyes ravishing his body.
“I’m surprised you’re still conscious after that; you must really be in a mood”, he jests with an eyebrow raised, the scar running through it moving with the movement. You’d have laughed and agreed with him if you had the energy. These ‘moods’ that he referred to was the polite way your mates described you being unfathomably horny.
Of course, you wanted your mates every second that there was air in your lungs, but sometimes it would become so overwhelming your skin felt too tight, heart palpations, tremble in your fingers that would settle until one of their bodies was touching yours. Rhysand reassured that it was expected to feel this way whilst newly mated, and you had not one but three mates - possibly a joke played to you by the Cauldron - so it was rational for your body's reactions to be heightened.
That didn’t make it any easier as you fucked each of them to multiple orgasms and only felt sated after reaching a new unconscious state. You were close too, but not close enough as you continued to admire Cassian, from how his beautiful wings stretched out behind him to how his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, moistening them for a moment before he dipped lower.
The kiss was heated and messy, saliva and sweat mixing on your tongues as they stroked together. A flicker of joy warmed in the centre of your chest as you could finally run your fingers through his damp hair, tucking the strands behind his rounded ears so you could see his face without the shadows.
Each of your legs was carefully lowered on either side of his body so that his chest pressed against yours. His powerful arms now rested beside your head so that he could stroke the back of his knuckles against your cheeks.
The affection and love he was projecting were the opposite reactions to moments ago when he was pounding into you like it was his latest mission. After Rhysand had teased and pinned you to the bedpost, making you orgasm until your knees trembled and he had to carry you to the bed where he finally came inside of you, Cassian had chuckled that he wasn’t sure you could handle him with the fucked out expression on your face.
You smirked and instructed him to fuck as hard as possible. Cassian never backed down from a challenge and did just this, leaving you exhausted and dreamy.
“Cauldron, I fucking love you”, Cassian pants into your mouth, the warmth of his breath tickling your neck as he kisses his way to the sensitive area below your ear.
“I love you too, " you sigh in contentment, fingers lowering over his powerful shoulders, causing him to shiver as you neared his sensitive wings.
As his lips hovered over the shell of your pointed ear, he whispered, “Do you really think you can handle my brother's cock?”
You can’t help the giggle that bursts from you, wishing you could stroke Cassian’s ego and say you were too tired for the last of your mates, but that would be a complete and utter lie.
“Oh, I know she can, can’t you, my love?” Azriel's deep voice comes from behind Cassian, who observes you closely. The male hovering over you turned to look at his friend over his shoulder, but Azriel continued to glance at you as his wing twitched, indicating Cass to move.
With one last kiss to your cheek, the warmth and weight of Cassian crawled from your body, meaning the setting sun was now directly beaming into your eyes, causing you to try to bury your face into the pillow beneath your head. “What can I say? I’m greedy for you all”, you insisted with a sigh, smiling to yourself but attempting to keep your voice quiet after seeing the windowless arches to the sun.
You were pretty sure all of Veleris had heard you being fucked by your mates, and every time you remembered that there were no windows in your home and only the sheer curtains flowing in the breeze, you attempted to keep the noise down. This only meant that your mates’ attempts to make you cry out in euphoria improved tenfold.
“Insatiable you are indeed”, growled the voice of the male who had been quietly watching the three of you interact. Rhysand’s usually perfectly combed hair was thoroughly ruffled from and sticking to his temple from where you’d been running your fingers through it earlier in the afternoon. Your eyes connected with his; the usual brightness that gleamed with the violet colour seemed clouded to a near-pitch-black colour of pure night as he admired his mate being thoroughly worshipped on the bed.
You were thankful the three of them were so close, Brothers in a way that close childhood friends were. Their possessive tendencies were always there, growling or baring their teeth at one another when they’d decided it was enough touching. However, most of the time, they were patient, more content with the fact that you were feeling happy and thoroughly pleasured. On the occasions where all three of them touched you simultaneously, it was more fun than you could handle most days due to the manhandling and dominance, but that’s always what made it more fun.
Today was not one of those days, though, as you admired your handsome High Lord as he stroked his thick cock slowly, those dark eyes searching over your body and resting on the puddle that was growing beneath your cunt.
Smiling over at him, Rhysand’s lips twitched into a soft gaze, the speed of his hand increasing as the joy on your face increased his arousal. For a moment, you contemplated trying to crawl over to him, kneel on the floor and offer to keep his cock warm with your mouth, but the growing shadow forming at the end of the excessively large bed captured your focus entirely. 
You’d thought for a moment that Azriel’s shadows had been the object to block out the sun from blinding your vision, but a quick glance showed you that it was his wing, which meant a deep red hue now covered your body from the sun beaming through the membrane of his wing.
An ice-cold breeze circled your ankles, dragging your attention away from Azriel as his shadows formed into pairs of hands, trapping your legs in their spread position. Licking your lips in anticipation, you attempted to sit up and reach for Az, but the shadows grew in size, skimming over your sides and adding pressure to your shoulders until you were lying back down. The pressure remained over your shoulders, and further hands firmly gripped around your wrists so that they were pinned to your side. There was no getting out of the hold you were now captured within, and as your pulse began to pound within your chest, a delicate caress against your cheek fluttered by as the shadows tried to calm away your anxieties.
Azriel watched you closely, from the way your breathing rate increased as anticipation and adrenaline began to pound through your veins to the way more thick white cum dripped out of your cunt with the movements.
The Shadowsinger’s head tilted to the left as he asked, “Do you remember what we discussed earlier?” Azriel could have been perceived as the opposite if Cassian had looked like a God earlier. The setting sun beamed around his body, causing a light aura over his outline, but the front of his body darkened into a shadow so that you couldn’t see his handsome face. Power rolled off of him in waves as he waited for your answer.
Your mouth became suddenly dry, making it difficult to form words, so you simply nodded yes in response.
“Wait, what did you talk about earlier?” Cassian asks as he heaves his bulky body into the spare seat on the opposite side of Rhysand. Your eyes flicked to him for a second, noting the fact that his cock was still very much hard and now glistening in your juices. Cassian spread his legs and took the object of your desire in hand, beginning to stroke slowly, his balls tightening due to the action.
You didn’t answer, not wanting to discuss what had been talked about earlier. Azriel took a step closer to the bed, not taking his eyes off you for a second, as he casually remarked, “You’ll see. "
“You know, it’s not nice to keep secrets from your High Lord, " Rhys says quietly, his eyes flicking to Azriel with the underlying command that laced his words.
“All you need to know is that we have trust between the four of us. I know what I’m doing, and our sweet mate knows what’s doing and has trust. Isn’t that right, Love?”
“Yes, I trust you. All of you, " you say confidently, gripping the sheets beneath you until your knuckles strain.
Azriel nods, moving closer to the bed's end as his shadows pin your body down. “And what else do you need to tell me?” Azriel asks.
“If I want you to stop, I shake my head, say red, or tap twice” As you explained, you made the motion, tapping against the bed and shaking your head no.
“Good girl”, Az praises, his deep tone causing sparks of arousal to heat in your pussy as you attempted to rub your thighs together to ease some of the tension, but the shadows kept your legs separated.
Cassian’s fist stopped moving as he looked between you and Azriel and asked, “Are you sure I don’t need to be worried if we’re talking about safe worlds?” 
“It’s fine”, you answer in place of Az. “I wanted to try this and didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, which you two are making with the silent conversation I know you’re having, so please, just have some trust that this is something that I want, and it’s safe”. Cassian at least had the decency to look embarrassed, having been caught talking to Rhysand mind-to-mind. However, the High Lord just continued to glance between his Shadowsinger and you with uncertainty. 
A flick of coolness strokes down your sternum, and a shadow spirals over your skin. Azriel continues to use the darkness to praise you with subtle touches.
Cass leans further back into the chair until it groans under the strain of his powerful body. “Fine, fine. I’ll shut my big mouth”, he explains with a grin, his fingers tightening around his cock once more.
You were too busy admiring the drip of precum that had formed at the tip of Cass’ cock that you’d not noticed that Azriel was finally on the bed until his ice-cold scarred fingers trailed up the sensitive area of your inner thigh.
“I’ve been counting, you know”, Azriel casually mentions under his breath.
“Counting?” you ask, confused about what he was referring to.
Azriel settles between your knees; with him having moved closer, you could see him in all of his glory, the smooth, perfectly formed muscles over his body, the black swirls of both ink and shadows that ran over his skin and those captivating hazel eyes that seemed even darker than Rhys’.
“How many times you’ve came. I’ve been counting. Even the little one, you didn’t verbalise as Rhys took you from behind. Now, usually, at this point, you’ve had so many. I know you’re only one or two away from passing out, but that’s not our plan for today, is it?”
Even though your cheeks flood with warmth at his truth, you still shake your head, wishing you could reach up for him. Azriel smirked cooly down at you as his hands began to smooth over your stomach, higher until cupping your breasts, his finger and thumb pinching your pebbled nipples, causing you to moan and try and arch into the touch.
“My greedy, greedy girl. Is it not enough that both of my brothers have made you cum all of those times already?”
“I need you” you gasp breathlessly at his rough touches as he continues to play with your already sensitive nipples.
“And I need you”, he says earnestly, and you couldn’t deny the whimper that left your throat at his words. “What do you want first, fingers, mouth or cock?”
“Cock”, you say without a hint of hesitation but are unable to look him in the eye at the use of the crude word, which also earned a hearty laugh from Rhys.
Azriel’s hand's massage further up your body until he's covering you completely, almost in the same position that Cass had been, as his fingers cup around your jaw and hips slot between your thighs.
“My pretty girl can have my cock”, Azriel muses as he lowers his lips to hover just over yours, not closing the gap entirely as you try and lean up to capture his mouth, but he teases by staying an inch away.
You’re soon distracted by your cunt once more, stretching to accommodate your sizeable mate, particularly Azriel. A moment passed when he allowed you to collect your breath before his restraint was released.
He fucked you with long, powerful thrusts that, if you weren’t already being held down to the bed, you probably would have shifted up into the headboard with how hard his hips slammed into yours. Those lips of his that you had been desperate to kiss finally closed the gap as well, absorbing all your begs and moans for more. The restraints around your wrists released but only for a moment as Az eased your hands above your head, holding your crossed-over wrists in one hand as his other squeezed and held onto your hip for stability.
The dominance of his hold was similar to how Cass and Rhys had held you, but there was just something else when it came to Az; whether it be his shadows or the way he paid such close attention to your body, he seemed to be able to bring you right to the edge in no time at all.
Pulling your lips back from his for a second, you gasped, “I-” Your words failed with the need to tell him you want to orgasm, but he already knows.
“Cum for me”, he demands, not slowing with his fucking. Your cunt tightened around his girthy cock, squeezing in flutters until you were squeezing your eyes closed and forgetting to breathe.
The hand on your hip moved to your throat, wrapping around it, pressing slightly but not enough to stop you breathing as he ordered, “Cum again”. 
You weren’t sure whether it was a shadow or the specific way he was rolling his hips, but your clit was being massaged in time with his thrusts, and you were just about ready to explode. One orgasm led to another without a break in between, and with the previous orgasms that you’d already experienced, Azriel was right that something seemed to switch as you reached your level of exhaustion. 
“You look so beautiful when you're cumming on my cock. Want to know how I’ve been keeping count of your orgasms? When you cum, your eyes glaze over for just a second, like you’re so lost in pleasure that you leave your body and then come back, but feeling how tight your cunt is gripping me right now is just a bonus”.
Hearing his words and grunts had you in a state of pure bliss, wishing even more that your arms were free to hold onto some part of his body. Your mouth opens to let out a mewling moan, biting your bottom lip as you try to remain focused on Az.
“I know it’s a lot for you to deal with. Love, do you need to use your words?”
“No, please don’t stop”, you demand, trying to roll your hips to match his movements, but the weight on top of your body pinned that area of you down.
“Good girl. Want to cum together? I know you can do it again for me; I know you’re sensitive, but let’s cum together, my love”, he groans as he finishes his demands as he watches your eyes glaze and then roll back as your cunt begins to squeeze him tightly in bursts as you came again.
Azriel’s wings flared even further, nearly knocking Cassian and Rhys as he came with a heavy grunt and thrust, stilling so that every drop emptied inside of you until there was no room left, and it began to trickle out to join the puddle of your other two mates on the sheets below.
Soft lips caressed your cheek as Az praised you with kind words, “You did so well for me”. He moved lower, exploring your throat, collarbones, sternum, over your belly button and only then did you realise what his plans were. “I’m not done with you yet”.
The shadows release your ankles so that your mate can grip your legs and press your thighs back, baring your thoroughly fucked, pulsing, cum filled cunt to him. Az growls as he delves his tongue deep within, feeling the lingering pulses of your overstimulated walls, the softness that had slightly swollen from the amount of fucking you’d been doing.
Even though you released a guttural scream, back arching as far as you could reach, his warm tongue was a welcome sensation, soothing the ache. Your arousal also burned in your core at the thought of Azriel eating all the different concoctions of seed still spilling out, but he only groaned in pleasure at the taste. 
You were enjoying the feeling of his tongue trying to empty your pussy of juices with a flick and curl of the muscle, but as he moved p to your hypersensitive, swollen and throbbing clit, the fire and burning returned as he circled the nub slowly.
“Ah!” you cry out as your eyes clench close, attempting to close your legs, but he held them firmly open.
“Eyes on me”, Azriel demands, looking up at your face closely to look for signs if it's too much or if you’re doing any sort of sign for him to stop.
“Please!” you beg, eyes widening as you make sure to look at him lying with his face between your legs, his hair sticking up, and once more, your hands itched to stroke through the strands. You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for, but as he continued with the slow circling of your clit with his tongue and the burning subsided and was replaced with the tightening within your pussy, you knew you were going to cum again. The thought frankly scared you with how many you’d had already.
“I know you can do it”, he encourages as his wet tongue returns to your hole as his cold thumb presses your clit. Tears had begun to line your eyes, streaking down your cheeks as you came with a cry, your entire body trembling and muscles aching from the amount of tensing you’d been doing for what seemed like hours now.
Your hearing was turning fuzzy, so when Rhys deeply groaned as he came over his chest from watching you orgasm so hard, it sounded like he was in another room, almost like cotton wool had been forced into your ears.
“It’s too much, " you hiccup, wishing you could wipe away the tears wetting the pillow beneath your head.
Azriel tried to sound as sympathetic as possible as he looked up at you, kissing your thigh that was once more being held back by shadows, “I know, my love, but only a few more times. You can do it”. You cry out once more as he begins to lower his face back to your pussy but pauses just as two of his fingers circle your hole. “Remember what we talked about?” Nodding your head in response whilst maintaining eye contact, he continued, “You’re in control of the situation, understand?”
“Yes, I understand”, you utter whilst taking a deep breath, trying to calm your cries. His two fingers enter you slowly at first, easing and out before a third one joins. Usually, it would take you some time to adjust to the size of his fingers, but after the sizeable cocks, you didn’t need any prep for the three fingers.
Az moved them with speed, curling to stroke against that beautiful spot that had stars beaming in your eyesight which only heightened as his lips sealed around your already overstimulated clit, and he sucked. He knew exactly what he was doing, and with each orgasm that came, the response was more exaggerated from you, and the time between them decreased. You were pretty sure if he continued, you would just be having one single orgasm that went on and on until you inevitably passed out.
Just when you're tensing all over, cunt tightening around his three fingers, did he move in with the next and final step of his plan. Azriel's icey, scarred hand wrapped around your nose and mouth. It was a relief at first to have something cool against your hot skin, but as you tried to suck in a breath as your orgasm neared closer, the panic set in.
It was what you had hoped for, to have the control taken away, but knowing that if you tapped your fingers or shook your head underneath his palm, it would stop. The thing was, you were already beginning to feel somewhat loopy from the orgasms that you didn’t want it to stop, which was why Azriel was doing this; he knew your body down the tiniest detail, especially with his shadows whispering away in his ear, counting your heartbeat.
The adrenaline only seemed to increase further as panic was doubling as you attempted to pull against the shadows around your wrists and thighs. The overwhelming pleasure between your lungs was the only thing that burned more than the need to breathe. You’re unsure what you need more, to cum or breath, but you’re only given one option, just as dark spots replaced the stars in your vision as you came around his fingers with an incredible squeeze of your walls around the digits.
Musky, sweated scented air filled your lungs desperately as his hand now cupped your cheek, supporting you as you tried to regain your full consciousness, but as Azriel continued to finger you, now at a slower pace, all you could think about was him and nothing more.
“That’s it- nice deep breaths for me. You’re doing so well for me. Did that feel good?” Az asks.
“Ye-Yes!” you stutter while trying to catch your breath. Your head lolls to one side while you nuzzle into his palm. Your eyes are entirely gazed at and unfocused, looking down at your mate.
“Good”, is all he says as he returns to sucking your clit and covering your mouth and nose again.
This time he had to tap your face a few times after you came to rouse you properly, but you were still greedily sucking air without an issue. However, now, Cassian and Rhys had stood, towering over the sides of the beds with concern, but arousal still evident across their beautiful faces.
“That’s a good girl. How do you feel?” Azriel asks, ignoring the two other males.
“Goo-Good. Good, " you say repeatedly, having only the energy and mental capacity to repeat the same words repeatedly.
You’re starting to feel a tingling sensation throughout your limbs, the edges of your sight blurring completely as your thoughts remain on how good you felt. Az watched you so closely that you weren’t sure he was blinking. “I know I can get you to cum one more time for me”.
However, before you can nod, you’re both interrupted by Rhysand growling, “Azriel. She’s had enough”.
“No, she hasn’t. I know she hasn’t. Just trust me. You can do this, can’t you, Love?” Azriel asks you.
Making sure to look him in the eye, you nod your head and say, “Yes”. Those special fingers of his begin curling with great speed once more as his tongue circles your throbbing clit.
You’re breathing heavily, screaming constantly until the air is cut off once more. Your lungs burn, your head is spinning, and all you can think of is cumming, begging silently to cum for Azriel, to be good for him, that you could do this, you could cum and show your other mates that Azriel was right.
As your orgasm rushes through you, your entire body does the opposite as it had been before. Instead of tensing, it went completely limp, eyes rolling back as your cunt continued to pulse and squeeze around his digits. When your eyes opened again, Azriel was half hovering above you, his fingers carefully easing out of your cunt, but you could hardly feel it as he tapped your cheeks a few times to bring you around more.
“I-I-I-I-I”, you mumbled incoherently as the shadows dispersed from your body entirely so you were no longer restrained.
“Shhh, you’re ok. You’re safe, Love, you’re ok”, Azriel whispers carefully as he begins to massage areas of your body to help you feel more, but it doesn’t help the complete and utter bliss settled through your mind and soul. It felt as if you were floating, and you never wanted to come back down again.
Azriel gave silent instructions to Rhysand, who shared these with Cassian as they stood beside the side of the bed, unsure if they should be ripping Azriel apart or helping their mate.
“Azriel”, Cassian warns, his entire body stiff and muscles flexing as he watches you blink heavily, body twitching with uncontrollable movements. Even though you were sucking in deep breaths, it seemed like you couldn’t catch your breath again.
“She’s fine, aren’t you?” Azriel asks, stroking away the flowing tears that you hadn’t noticed had started again down your cheeks.
“Ye-Ye-Yes. Yes, Yes”, you say, nodding tiredly.
“Are you sure?” Cass whispers, kneeling on the side of the bed and reaching for your hand, noticing that you couldn’t even squeeze his hand back as he held it carefully.
“Just give her some time; her head is all over the place at the moment, but it’s exactly where she wanted to be”, the Shadowsinger explained under his breath, still watching you very closely.
“Cu-Cum, cum”, you mutter, words still somewhat muffled from how heavy your tongue felt in your mouth.
“What’s that,  Love?” Azriel asks, “You want to cum again?”
“Y-Yes”, you nod slowly, still staring blankly up at the ceiling.
Azriel smiles down at you. “So good for me. I think you’ve had enough for today. Just take some slow, deep breaths for me” You follow his instructions, taking slow, deep breaths until you don’t feel breathless anymore. As exhaustion begins to take over, your eyes close, but those scarred hands tap gently against your cheek to keep them open; you can’t even feel the temperature of his cold hands.
“I need you to keep your eyes on me. I don’t want you to fall asleep in this headspace, okay? Just like we talked about. "
“Ok”, you say just once, looking up at him but not seeing at all.
“What headspace? Did you break my mate, Azriel?” Rhysand snarls as he, too, kneels on the side of the bed, his wings extended to match his Brothers. The darkness of night crawls from his tense shoulders as he reaches forward to run a hand over the arm and leg closest to him.
“She’s not broken; she’s just floating. Isn’t that right?” You nod, looking only at Azriel. Cass sighs through his nose, having not had the answers given to him right away, as Az continues to give only half sentences. “I’ll explain in a minute, but I just need you to be there for her as she properly comes back”.
It takes several moments of tense massaging and silent raging for the boys as they watch you tiredly blink, the unfocused gaze and dreamy stare slowly hardening until you’re actually looking at your surroundings, shivering at the coolness of Azriel’s hands as they travel down your ribs.
Floating was the only way you could describe the experience like you had miraculously grown your own pain of Iillyrian wings and were flying through the clouds without care. Even the soft sheets beneath you couldn’t be felt when you were in that high headspace. Not even your name could be drawn out of you if asked, but slowly, with the help of your mate's touches and scents and Rhysand caressing the wall in your mind, you finally topple back to reality.
Eyes flicking between your three mates, two of which looked like they were bracing for war,  you finally gave a tentative smile, feeling your cheeks warming back up from their intense gazes. 
“There’s my girl”, Cass praises as he squises your wrist gently.
“Hey”, you whisper croakily, throat aching from all the screaming you’d been doing.
Azriel lowers himself, kissing your lips carefully once before maintaining intense eye contact. At this close proximity, you can see the hints of green throughout his hazel eyes. “You’re safe with us; you know that, right?”
“Yes, I know. I feel safe”, you reassure him, trying to lift your hand to caress his cheeks, but your arms are still too quick.
“Good, we’re going to bath together and clean you up. Then I think we need to explain to these two what’s happened”, Azriel explained as you nodded in understanding and closed your eyes, but a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose had you opening them again as his gaze softened, “I still need you to keep your eyes open. I don’t think you’re completely back yet, so no sleeping just yet.”
Before you can nod in understanding, two arms are carefully shifting beneath your body. One hook is under your knees, and the other supports your back as Rhysand lifts you to his chest, your head carefully laying across his shoulder as he walks the two of you into the bathing room.
Nuzzling into his warmth, he rested the two of you in the vast-sized bath and began to run the water hot, letting it slowly creep up your body as you sat between his muscular legs. Rhys held you close, ensuring that your eyes remained open and on his. The violet colour returned to the brightness you were used to as he continued to massage your limbs back to life.
Splashing from behind you indicates that the other two had joined in the water as they both hissed at the heat soaking into their muscles. Az takes your legs into his lap, massaging carefully over your calves as Cass takes hold of a hand, kissing the back of it and linking your fingers together.
Everyone’s attention then turns to Azriel as he begins to explain. “It’s called subspace”.
“Sub? Space?” Cassian repeats slowly, as if trying to sound out the new phrase but is entirely unsure.
“Yes”, continued Az, “It’s related to hormones and an emotional state where an individual becomes so lost within the moment, almost like a trance, that they aren’t able to make decisions for themselves and experience side effects like feeling the sensation that they are floating or euphoric. Similar to an out-of-body experience or a high. It can come from a physical response like shown today or an emotional response depending on how submissive the individual is”.
Rhysand seemed to tense further after the explanation, so you tried to lean into his body more as he began to talk. “Right, ok.  So, this is something you’ve experienced before?”  he asks, tilting his head down to look at you.
“Yes”, you say stoically, now not looking him in the eye as your fingers curl and grip Cassian, as the sensations return to you. “You know the male that I was with years before I met any of you? He um- He,” you were struggling to find the correct phases to say as you could feel the tension suddenly thick in the air at the mention of your previous lover.
Thankfully, Azriel continued the explanation for you, but you didn’t miss the stern tone of his voice. “With subspace, it’s important for the one experiencing it to have some sort of support. As I’ve explained, it’s to consent or look after yourself when going through a high like this. What my love is trying to explain is that this fucker used to leave her like how she was and either go drinking or fall asleep. She’d be on her own and-” Azriel blows out a long, steady breath as he closes his eyes, the shadows beginning to shake around him with the increase of his anger.
Sitting up further in Rhys’ lap, you continued the discussion. “I like getting to the point of being in subspace. It feels so freeing, and I trust you all to look after me; that’s why I spoke to Az first, just to make sure that you’d even want to try it, and I know it can look scary. But with my previous partner, he would leave me by myself, and I’d fall asleep, and when I woke up, I would have this impending doom sensation. I’ve read that it still has something to do with hormones. Still, I would feel so low and depressed without the support, almost like I was going to die with how low I felt. Still, after a few days, I would feel back to normal”.
You wanted to be open with them all, but seeing them all holding back some restraint with the anger they were experiencing, you knew you needed to pull them back before they went on the hunt.
“Please, for the love of the Mother, tell me this fuckers name”, Cassian demands lowly. It was your only secret, the name of the male you’d once been with and had been emotionally scarred from. You were unsure as to why, whether it be fear or to refrain from violence, but you had never told any of them the name.
Shaking your head no, you collapse further into Rhys, which causes some tension to leave his body as he holds you close with an arm around your waist and his lips caressing the back of your head.
“You know, I could just slip into your mind and find out”, Rhyand whispers, stating something that both Cass and Az were wondering.
“Yes, you could, but you won’t, " you confidently say. It was the one wish you had made him promise upon becoming mate- no creeping through your mind, no matter what. Rhys kisses your head again to confirm that he wouldn’t do this.
“So this subspace, " Cassian interrupts the anger by changing the subject to something you were thankful for. Are you sure it feels good? I thought you had passed out earlier, which frightened me, to be truthful with you. "
Your fingers squeeze his once more as you look over at him and give him a reassuring smile, “It feels amazing and a little addicting to feel like that and like I said, I trust the three of you more than anyone. Usually, it doesn’t take long for me to fall into subspace, but it’s been a while; I think I’ve put some barriers up in my mind to stop going to that place because of my past”.
“And luckily for her, I’ve seen this sort of thing before”, Azriel explains.
“So how do we make sure she doesn’t feel awful like she did with that fucker?” Cass asks with a subtle growl.
“Aftercare”, Az explains with a shrug of his shoulders, “Exactly like you have been doing already. Making sure she stays awake and feels safe, food and water helps. Talking to her, holding her, and warm baths are always good”.
You gently smile with Azriel as he lists what you cherish most about aftercare, but Cassian’s next question causes you to nearly bite your tongue.
“And the choking? To the point where she nearly passed out. Was that part of the subspace, too?”
Azriel smirks cockily as you giggle and hide your face in Rhys’ chest. “No, she just wanted to try that out. It’s called breathplay. It’s not for everyone; I’ve had some experience with it. Can’t just go around choking people until they pass out like a brute, Cass”.
The water sways as your mate shoves Az in the shoulder.
The chest you’re learning on begins to vibrate as Rhys muses, “Guess even after 500 years of living, I still have lots to learn”. You hum in response, exhaustion fully settling into your body now as you wish to close your eyes so you look over at Az,
“Can I sleep yet?”
“Not yet. I need you to eat and drink something first. Stay here; I’ll get you something, " he explains as he kisses your knee, lowers your feet into Cass’s lap, and climbs out of the bath. You sigh into the embrace of your other mates.
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ozzgin · 8 months
Text
Yandere! Android x Reader (I)
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It is the future and you have been tasked to solve a mysterious murder that could jeopardize political ties. Your assigned partner is the newest android model meant to assimilate human customs. You must keep his identity a secret and teach him the ways of earthlings, although his curiosity seems to be reaching inappropriate extents.
Yes, this is based on Asimov’s “Caves of Steel” because Daneel Olivaw was my first ever robot crush. I also wanted a protagonist that embraces technology. :)
Content: female reader, AI yandere, 50's futurism
[Part 2] | [More original works]
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You follow after the little assistant robot, a rudimentary machine invested with basic dialogue and spatial navigation. It had caused quite the ruckus when first introduced. One intern - well liked despite being somewhat clumsy at his job - was sadly let go as a result. Not even the Police is safe from the threat of AI, is what they chanted outside the premises.
"The Commissioner has summoned you, (Y/N)." 
That's how it greeted you earlier, clacking its appendage against the open door in an attempt to simulate a knock. 
"Do you know why my presence is needed?" You inquire and wait for the miniature AI to scan the audio message. 
"I am not allowed to mention anything right now." It finally responds after agonizing seconds.
 It's an alright performance. You might've been more impressed by it, had you not witnessed first hand the Spacer technology that could put any modern invention here on Earth to shame. Sadly the people down here are very much against artificial intelligence. There have been multiple protests recently, like the one in front of your building, condemning the latest government suggestion regarding automation. People fear for their jobs and safety and you don't necessarily blame them for having self preservation. On the other hand, you've always been a supporter of progress. As a child you devoured any science fiction book you could get your hands on, and now, as a high ranked police detective you still manage to sneak away and scan over articles and news involving the race for a most efficient computer.
You close the door behind you and the Commissioner puts his fat cigarette out, twisting the remains into the ashtray with monotonous movements as if searching for the right words.
 "There's been a murder." Is all he settles on saying, throwing a heavy folder in your direction. A hologram or tablet might've been easier to catch, but the man, like many of his coworkers, shares a deep nostalgia for the old days. 
 You flip through the pages and eventually furrow your eyebrows. 
"This would be a disaster if it made it to the news." You mumble and look up at the older man. "Shouldn't this go to someone more experienced?" 
He twiddles with his grey mustache and glances out the fake window. 
"It's a sensitive case. The Spacers are sending their own agent to collaborate with us. What stands out to you?" 
You narrow your eyes and focus on the personnel sheet. What's there to cause such controversy? Right before giving up, departing from the page, you finally notice it: next to the Spacer officer's name, printed clearly in black ink, is a little "R." which is a commonly used abbreviation to indicate something is a robot. The chief must've noticed your startled reaction and continues, satisfied: 
"You understand, yes? They're sending an android. Supposedly it replicates a human perfectly in terms of appearance, but it does not possess enough observational data. Their request is that whoever partners up with him will also house him and let him follow along for the entirety of the mission. You're the only one here openly supporting those tin boxes. I can't possibly ask one of your higher ups, men with wives and children, to...you know...bring that thing in their house."
You're still not sure whether to be offended by the fact that your comfort seems to be of less priority compared to other officers. Regardless of the semantics, you're presently standing at the border between Earth and the Spacer colony, awaiting your case partner. A man emerges from behind a security gate. He's tall, with handsome features and an elegant walk. He approaches you and you reach for a handshake. 
"Is the android with you?" You ask, a little confused. 
"Is this your first time seeing a Spacer model?" He responds, relaxed. "I am the agent in your care. There is no one else." 
You take a moment to process the information, similar to the primitive machine back at your office. Could it be? You've always known that Spacer technology is years ahead, but this surpasses your wildest dreams. There is not a single detail hinting at his mechanical fundament. The movement is fluid, the speech is natural, the design is impenetrable. He lifts the warm hand he'd used for the handshake and gently presses a finger against your chin in an upwards motion. You find yourself involuntarily blushing. 
"Your mouth was open. I assumed you'd want it discreetly corrected." He states, factually, with a faint smile on his lips. Is he amused? Is such a feeling even possible? You try your best to regain some composure, adjusting the collar of your shirt and clearing your throat. 
"Thank you and please excuse my rudeness. I was not expecting such a flawless replica. Our assistants are...easily recognizable as AI."
"So I've been told." His smile widens and he checks his watch. You follow his gesture, still mesmerized, trying to find a single indicator that the man standing before you is indeed a machine, a synthetic product.
Nothing.
"Shall we?" He eyes the exit path and you quickly lead him outside and towards public transport. 
He patiently waits for your fingerprint scan to be complete. You almost turn around and apologize for the old, lagging device. As a senior detective, you have the privilege of living in the more spacious, secured quarters of the city. And, since you don't have a family, the apartment intended for multiple people looks more like a luxury adobe. Still, compared to the advanced way of the Spacers, this must feel like poverty to the android.
At last, the scanner beeps and the door unlocks. 
"Heh...It's a finicky model." You mumble and invite him in.
"Yes, I'm familiar with these systems." He agrees with you and steps inside, unbuttoning his coat.
"Oh, you've seen this before?"
"In history books."
You scratch your cheek and laugh awkwardly, wondering how much of his knowledge about the current life on Earth is presented as a museum exhibit when compared to Spacer society. 
"I'm going to need a coffee. I guess you don't...?" Your words trail as you await confirmation. 
"I would enjoy one as well, if it is not too much to ask. I've been told it's a social custom to 'get coffee' as a way to have small talk." The synthetic straightens his shirt and looks at you expectantly. 
"Of course. I somehow assumed you can't drink, but if you're meant to blend in with humans...it does make sense you'd have all the obvious requirements built in."
He drags a chair out and sits at the small table, legs crossed.
"Indeed. I have been constructed to have all the functions of a human, down to every detail." 
You chuckle lightly. Well, not like you can verify it firsthand. The engineers back at the Spacer colony most likely didn't prepare him for matters considered unnecessary. 
"I do mean every detail." He adds, as if reading your mind. "You are free to see for yourself."
You nearly drop the cup in your flustered state. You hurry to wipe the coffee that spilled onto the counter and glance back at the android, noticing a smirk on his face. What the hell? Are they playing a prank on you and this is actually a regular guy? Some sort of social experiment? 
"I can see they included a sense of humor." You manage to blurt out, glaring at him suspiciously. 
"I apologize if I offended you in any way. I'm still adjusting to different contexts." The android concludes, a hint of mischief remaining on his face. "Aren't rowdy jokes common in your field of work?"
"Uh huh. Spot on." You hesitantly place the hot drink before him.
Robots on Earth have always been built for the purpose of efficiency. Whether or not a computer passes the Turing Test is irrelevant as long as it performs its task in the most optimal, rational way. There have been attempts, naturally, to create something indistinguishable from a human, but utility has always taken precedence. It seems that Spacers think differently. Or perhaps they have reached their desired level of performance a long time ago, and all that was left was fiddling with aesthetics. Whatever the case is, you're struggling not to gawk in amazement at the man sitting in your kitchen, stirring his coffee with a bored expression.
"I always thought - if you don't mind my honesty - that human emotions would be something to avoid when building AI. Hard to implement, even harder to control and it doesn't bring much use."
"I can understand your concerns. However, let me reassure you, I have a strict code of ethics installed in my neural networks and thus my emotions will never lead to any destructive behavior. All safety concerns have been taken into consideration.
As for why...How familiar are you with our colony?" The android takes a sip of his coffee and nods, expressing his satisfaction. "Perhaps you might be aware, Spacers have a declining population. Automated assistants have been part of our society for a long time now. What's lacking is humans. If the issue isn't fixed, artificial humans will have to do."
You scoff.
"What, us Earth men aren't good enough to fix the birth rates? They need robots?"
You suddenly remember the recipient of your complaint and mutter an apology. 
"Well, I'm sure you'd make a fine contender. Sadly I can't speak for everyone else on Earth." The man smiles in amusement upon seeing the pale red that's now dusting your cheeks, then continues: "But the issue lies somewhere else. Spacers have left Earth a long time ago and lived in isolation until now. Once an organism has lost its immune responses to otherwise common pathogens, it cannot be reintegrated."
True. Very few Earth citizens are allowed to enter the colony, and only do so after thorough disinfection stages, proving they are disease free as to not endanger the fragile health of the Spacers living in a sterile environment. You can only imagine the disastrous outcome if the two species were to abruptly mingle. In that case, equally sterile machinery might be their only hope.
Your mind wanders to the idea. Dating a robot...How's that? You sheepishly gaze at the android and study his features. His neatly combed copper hair, the washed out blue eyes, the pale skin. Probably meant to resemble the Spacers. You shake your head.
"A-anyways, I'll go and gather all the case files I have. Then we can discuss our first steps. Do feel at home."
You rush out and head for your office. Focus, you tell yourself mildly annoyed.
While you search for the required paperwork - what a funny thing to say in this day and age - he will certainly take up on your generous offer to make himself comfortable. The redhaired man enters the living room, scanning everything with curious eyes. He stops in front of a digital frame and slides through the photos. Ah, this must be your Police Academy graduation. The year matches with the data he's received on you. Data files he might've read one too many times in his unexplained enthusiasm. This should be you and the Commissioner; Doesn't match the description of your father, and he seems too old to be a spouse or boyfriend. Additionally, the android distinctly recalls the empty 'Relationship' field.
"Old photos are always a tad embarrassing. I suppose you skipped that stage."
He jolts almost imperceptibly and faces you. You have returned with a thin stack of papers and a hologram projector.
"I've digitalized most files I received, so you don't have to shuffle a bunch of paper around." You explain.
"That is very useful, thank you." He gently retrieves the small device from your hand, but takes a moment before removing his fingers from yours. "I predict this will be a successful partnership."
You flash him a friendly smile and gesture towards the seating area.
"Let's get to work, then. Unless you want to go through more boring albums." You joke as you lower yourself onto the plush sofa. 
The synthetic human joins you at an unexpectedly close proximity. You wonder if proper distance differs among Spacers or if he has received slightly erroneous information about what makes a comfortable rapport. 
"Nothing boring about it. In fact, I'd say you and I are very similar from this point of view." He tells you, placing the projector on the table.
"Oh?"
"Your interest in technology and artificial intelligence is rather easy to infer." The man continues, pointing vaguely towards the opposing library. "Aside from the briefing I've already received about you, that is."
"And that is similar to...the interest in humans you've been programmed to have?" You interject, unsure where this conversation is meant to lead. 
"Almost."
His head turns fully towards you and you stare back into his eyes. From this distance you can finally discern the first hints of his nature: the thin disks shading the iris - possibly CCD sensors - are moving in a jagged, mechanical manner. Actively analyzing and processing the environment. 
"I wouldn't go as far as to generalize it to all humans. 
Just you."
2K notes · View notes
witchywcmans · 4 months
Text
AGAINST THE LAW. | KEN RYUGUJI
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synopsis ━━ after one too many trips to the auto repair shop with your old car, you realize you can focus on your work tasks so much better in the waiting room. but when the head mechanic notices you've been loitering, you recognize him instantly: ken ryuguji. there’s zero chance you’re getting out of this one. (older!draken x f!reader.)
content warnings ━━ missionary position on a motorcycle (hey, this is fiction), cunnilingus + fingering, praise, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (i.e. cherry), mentions loss of virginity in the past, mutual pining, au as helllll, draken is in his late 20s and a mechanic. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).
word count ━━ 5.2k
song inspiration ━━ one for the road, arctic monkeys / one of the girls, the weeknd / fallen star, the neighbourhood
author's note ━━ ok off the bat, I just wanna say this fic was completely inspired by this movie called wait with me. my friends and I like to watch passionflix movies for the laughs, but this one wasn't. well horrible. if you watch it, don't expect oscar-worthy performances, but it was fun and stupid and yeah, it made me think about what if part of this concept was applied to draken when he was older, workin as a mechanic. idk. I'm not caught up on the manga whatsoever so take this as a major au lol
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Your car was a piece of shit, but that wasn’t the only reason you ended up sitting in the waiting room at the mechanic’s more than usual. A police officer would call it loitering. You, on the other hand, called it a safe space. For the past couple of weeks, your car had been in and out of the shop due to a faulty ignition sensor that your mechanic couldn’t nail down until your car broke down on the side of the highway. For the third time. Needless to say, it had been a stressful past month. The car issues had been one thing, but then there was all the pressure at work. And for some reason, you began to find comfort in working at the mechanic’s waiting room.
Your work as a journalist was very important to you. A perfectionist at heart, you needed to be in the right zone, the right state of mind, to write. Unfortunately, you weren’t someone who could sit at your desk at home for hours, typing away at the speed of light, and you definitely couldn’t focus at a coffee shop. You tried a plethora of other places. The local park: your laptop died. The library: teenagers still whispered too loud even in the quietest of places. The McDonald's parking lot: you got distracted by your hunger. Nowhere was right … until you were forced to work from your mechanic’s waiting room while he worked on your car. 
Even when your mechanic figured out the issue, you couldn’t help but sneak in through the entrance late mornings and work on your articles. The waiting room was just so … quiet, even more quiet than a library. There was hardly anyone in there besides the retired folk who could wait all day for their car to be fixed. You had a coffee machine at your disposable – not good coffee, but good enough – and a selection of snacks from the vending machine. It was pure bliss. You liked to hole yourself up in the corner, picking out different outfits that would conceal your face enough, and type away until the sun began to set. No one said a word to you. No one batted an eye.
So, as you can see, it was a surprise to you when someone eventually approached you two months into your loitering scheme.
It was just about closing time and you were shoving your laptop in your backpack after sending off another draft to your editor. A pair of feet appeared in front of your chair, and when you looked up at the young mechanic chewing on the end of a toothpick, you knew you were fucked. 
“Toyota,” he said without missing a beat, knowing your car from the top of his head, “ignition sensor, right?”
You paused, sliding on your backpack. Could you make a break for it? “Um … correct.”
“That was fixed weeks ago,” he said, slapping a dirty rag on his shoulder, car keys dangling from the other hand. 
Your mouth went completely dry. How the fuck could you explain this without coming off as a total weirdo? Your hands gripped the straps of your backpack for dear life. This was so embarrassing.
Before you could reply, the young mechanic gestured to the back door with his chin. “Follow me,” he said. “Boss wants to talk to ‘ya.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Still fiddling with your backpack straps, you knew there was no choice but to follow this guy. He led you through the back door and into the main workshop area of the shop. There were some cars left on a few lifts, ready to be inspected tomorrow, and the shelves packed with parts seemed to be in disarray. Besides that, there was no one in here but you, the young mechanic, and whoever this “boss” was still working in the back of the shop. You had never met the owner of the shop before; you typically worked with your mechanic and no one else.
You took down the hood that you’d been wearing today. There was no use in hiding your face now.
“Here she is, boss,” the man beside you said, still twirling those keys. “Can I go home now?”
“Yeah, yeah,” the boss replied, hidden behind the huge motorcycle he was working on. “Good work today.”
The younger man left, the bell above the office door jingling, and now it was just two: you and this so-called boss you’d never met. You stood there in silence, hands fidgeting with anxiety, as you waited for the boss to say something. From behind the motorcycle, all you could see was a flash of blonde hair and smoke puffing out into the dingy air. It smelled like motor oil and cigarettes back here.
You lifted your foot – maybe it was time to try and sprint out – but then a deep voice entered the work space.
“You know that loitering is against the law, right?”
That voice … it was familiar, but you couldn’t put a pin on it. And then, the boss was standing up, and you saw the tuft of blonde hair slicked back, the shaved sides on his head. That infamous dragon tattoo still on his left temple. The little hoop on his left ear was accompanied by a few other small piercings. He was still the same height – over six feet – but had grown some muscle. His hands were calloused from all those years of fighting, and now, from heavy labor. And those eyes … they were still as stormy and dark as the first day you saw him in school.
This wasn’t just embarrassing. This was mortifying.
“C’mon, Cherry,” Draken said, instantly recognizing you and your old nickname, “you know you can’t loiter in my shop.”
Cherry. You hadn’t been called that since … well, since high school. Your classmates hadn’t started calling you that because of a specific physical trait. To your face, you were told the nickname was for your quick skill of tying a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. You had been the best, after all. But unbeknownst to you, the nickname came from when Mikey Sano, the infamous former leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang, popped your cherry.
You hadn’t even liked Mikey at the time. You were just sweet sixteen, and he was a year older, and you had assumed it would be better for your first to be someone with experience. Unfortunately, Mikey Sano had no experience. The sex had been awkward and terrible, as most first times between teenagers are, but at least you could say that you lost your virginity to the leader of Toman. Your eyes had always been on someone else, though. Someone who you had been too nervous to talk to, who you had only shared just a few interactions with. You never had a crush on Mikey as a teenager; you had always liked –
“Draken,” you said finally, shock lining your voice. Your eyes formed into wide saucers. It had been so long, and he was here. This whole time. Right under your nose. How surprised did you look right now?
He chuckled, wiping his hands off on a rag. The cigarette dangling from his lips was plucked out, and he stabbed it into an ashtray. “Don’t look so surprised.”
Oh, so you did look that shocked to see him.
He threw the tool he’d been using on a bench and stepped around the bike. “I really don’t go by Draken anymore,” he continued, sitting down on the rusted motorcycle, stretching his legs out. “Just call me, Ken.”
You were speechless. Were you breathing right now? You had to admit … you still found him to be handsome. He always had been. God, you were obsessed with him in high school, but always hid your crush in the shadows. Not even your friends knew about it, but you’d made it obvious, even if you didn’t know it. And now … he’d gotten better with age. The lines underneath his eyes told a story, as well as the scars etched into his veiny forearms. He could have more that you couldn’t see underneath the tattoos on his arms. Your mouth was so dry from staring at him that you had to lick the corners of your lips.
“Ken,” you said in a single breath, lacing your hands together in front of your body. You hadn’t moved from your spot, even when he was looking at you so casually. “I’m so sorry for loitering. Please, don’t call the cops on me. Or something. I have a reason –”
“Me? Call the police?” He laughed again, and it was just like how you remembered. “Do you know me at all, Cherry?”
Once you found the courage to breathe again, you stepped forward. Then another. And another. “I guess I don’t,” you shrugged, still playing with your hands. “I guess I just knew of you.”
“And I knew of you, all those years ago.” He smiled like you two were in on a secret. The rag that had been in his hands was tossed onto his left shoulder. He was wearing a pair of grey coveralls stained with oil, but the top half was unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving him in just a white tank top on his torso, which hugged his muscles so nicely. “So, tell me then. What’s the reason for your loitering?”
This had to be the most words shared between you two than all those years at school together. You thought about pinching yourself, just to check if this was all part of an elaborate dream. Or nightmare, depending on how it ended.
“Um …” You rubbed the back of your neck, blushing slightly. “Well, you see … the waiting room at your shop is very … quiet.”
His brow raised. “So I’ve been told.” He stared you down. “C’mon, out with it.”
“You’re going to make fun of me.”
“I will not.”
“Yes, you will.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because we went to school together!”
“Oh, you know that means noth –”
“I’m a journalist and I write my articles better in your waiting room,” you finally answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “There. I said it.”
Draken couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He knew he promised, but the giggles bubbled up inside him, forcing themselves to emerge. You looked at him incredulously, blinking too fast. All you wanted right now was to crawl into a hole and be left alone. You had to find a new mechanic after this.
“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you sighed.
He waved his hand as his laughter died down. “I’m not. I promise.” Finally, his shoulders sagged again and he stood up. “I think it’s really cool that you … like my waiting room so much.”
You found your lips pulling into a smile at the same time as him. The tension broke and you felt your dimples crease. “I also like all the little snacks in the machine.”
“And the coffee?” He added.
You shrugged. “Could use some work.”
Draken laughed again, and just the sound of it made butterflies form in your stomach. You never had such a reaction to someone laughing before. What was wrong with you?
He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his coveralls. “It’s … really nice to see you again, Cherry.”
You mimicked his actions, instead sliding your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “You too, Ken.”
“I won’t bust you for loitering, by the way. Even if it is against the law,” he chuckled under his breath, whipping the rag off his shoulder once again. “Come over here. Let me show you what I’m working on.”
His tone was so casual, as if years hadn’t passed between you two, as if this wasn’t the most you talked in years. You set your backpack down and approached him in front of the bike. Your fingers ran over the slope of the seat, all new despite the rusty exterior of the motorcycle. “That’s new leather,” he informed you. “Feel free to test it out. I need someone else’s butt on this thing so I know if I chose a good material.”
You giggled, all light and flirty. You simply couldn’t help it, especially when he looked at you with those dark eyes, the corners creasing when he smiled. Without missing a beat, you sat down on the side of the bike, like he had minutes ago, and looked up at him. He was tall, but from this seat, he was even taller. 
He pointed to the wheel of the bike, and then the headlight. “I just started replacing the …” His voice drowned out as you simply focused on his lips. His mouth quirked as he explained what he fixed so far on the bike. You watched his finger dance around the bike, taking in the rough exterior of his hands up close. They were so much bigger now, amongst other things –
“So how’s that seat?”
You blinked, bringing yourself out of your horny stupor. “Oh, um – comfy. Very comfy.” You cleared your throat. “So … is this for a customer?”
“It’s mine. This is a personal project,” he explained, leaning slightly to the left, closer to you. “I wouldn’t be working on anything this late except if it was for me.”
His eyes were on you again, drinking you in as you sat on the bike. He placed his hand on the fuel tank, so close to yours. Your stomach was definitely doing flip-flops now, especially when you noticed the way his eyes raked down your figure. You wished you’d chosen something better to wear, something other than a pair of jeans and a cropped hoodie, but you’d only expected to be getting work done in the waiting room today. Not to be confronted by your old school crush. But it looked like it didn’t matter to him. The way he was looking at you … it felt like you were naked.
“It really is nice to see you again,” he said, voice just slightly above a whisper. His stance changed and he moved to stand between your legs.
You bit your lip for a moment. “You already said that.”
“You’re right. Uh … I …” He looked down at his hands, flexing them, breaking his nerves. “You just … look very pretty … sitting on my bike.”
You looked down at yourself. The way you sat with your legs spread wide was anything but attractive, and it wasn’t like you were wearing a cute, little dress. “I do?”
But when you lifted your stare again, his face was so much closer to yours. He was leaning down now, bracing two hands on the leather seat, and trying to pretend like he wasn’t inhaling your perfume. You just smelled … so good. Like strawberries and apples and … cherries. Red, ripened cherries. And the way you were sitting on that seat, eyes wide and cheeks blushing from being caught earlier. Fuck, it reminded him of the first time he saw you in high school. He had been a horny teenager, of course, but the way he saw you tie that cherry stem with your tongue … you were the first person he ever jerked off to the thought of. He had never made a move on you – ever – but at this moment, he was glad. Because things would’ve been different, and you never would’ve ended up loitering at his shop, and you never would’ve been sitting so pretty on his bike, all these years later.
“I just …” He trailed off, words failing him, as he lifted a hand to skim it over your jawline. “You can tell me to stop.”
But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. Your eyes simply batted up at him, leaning into his touch when his fingers caressed your cheek. Your skin immediately flushed. You were so soft, and warm, and god, did his skin prickle when he touched you. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” He muttered, voice gravely. You nodded instantly, and his thumb went to trace the outline of your lips. “I had always been … jealous that Mikey got to you first.”
Had your feelings in high school been reciprocated and you didn’t even know it? You licked at the corners of your lips, your tongue quickly flicking his thumb in the process. “You were?” You asked, already feeling yourself getting wet from just him tracing your lips. “I … never really liked Mikey anyways.” You then shook your head. “It feels silly to talk about this so many years later –”
Draken turned your face back to his, looking into your eyes sternly. “You never liked Mikey,” he said, point blank, pressing his thumb onto your bottom lip.
Without hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around the fingertip. You shook your head at his question.
His breath hitched. Just the sight of your lips around his thumb had him adjusting himself in his pants. He could feel his cock start to swell with need, causing him to mumble a soft, “Fuck,” under his breath.
You weren’t just wet now. You were soaked.
You slipped your mouth off his thumb, leaving a tiny trail of spit. His face immediately got closer, his lips grazing yours. He could tell they were soft, and even your chapstick smelled like cherries. God, how could he be so hard already? “I liked you back when we were teenagers,” you confessed, reaching out to hook your thumbs in the belt loops on his coveralls. “I was too scared to say anything, and Mikey … he’d just been there. Right place at the right time. We really didn’t feel anything for each other.”
Your words stirred something within him, something more than jealousy. Was it regret? The fact that he could’ve had you, all those years ago, if he’d just manned up and asked. He could’ve fought people all day, but when it came to asking out the girl he liked, he’d sat back, let his best friend pop your cherry. It should’ve been him. Fuck, it could’ve been him. 
His lips pressed to yours instantly, needing to taste the sweetness on your lips. His tongue darted out, swiping at that cherry flavor, and he moaned. Actually moaned. Draken wasn’t known to be weak for anyone, but you … you had always been a different story. You pulled him in closer by his belt loops, tipping your face up as he leaned over you. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue slipping past your lips once again to explore your mouth. He gripped the edge of the seat, his other hand cradling your jaw, and you wanted him so much closer. If he just put his knee between your legs, you could –
There it was. He did it, placing his knee right in the perfect spot. You bucked your hips up, setting a slow grind against his knee as he kissed you with feverish intent. Moans fell from your lips and into the kiss, making the tent in his pants grow bigger every passing second. He was so fucking hard now, and he needed more of you. He would have more of you.
“No, stop,” he muttered, breaking the kiss and moving his knee away. You huffed with disappointment, wanting that delicious friction once again, but when you opened your eyes, he was staring at you with purpose. “Please, let me taste you.”
You nodded dumbly, eyes blown out with lust. All you could say was, “Okay.”
In another life, you would’ve said something endearing, or maybe even hit him with a little dirty talk. But you absolutely couldn’t right now. Your head was swimming, the image of him unzipping your jeans and taking them off felt like it was out of a fever dream. Is this what it felt like to drown? No, you were breathing – just about – and Draken was throwing your pants off to the side, kneeling before you. Your legs spread wide as you sat on the bike. Surely, there could’ve been a better place to do this, but the way he was staring at your soaked panties, pushing them to the side to take in your pussy … you knew there was no stopping him. This was just his first course of the night.
His tongue dove between your wet folds, drinking you in like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. You knew you were done for when his arms wrapped around your legs, holding them apart, giving himself better access to one thing he’d craved for years. He rolled his tongue over your swollen clit, enjoying the sounds that slipped out of your mouth. You muttered obscenities, bucked your hips without thinking, pulled on his slicked-back hair. Anything to give you more friction on your precious, aching clit.
He dragged his tongue down, pushing it inside your warmth, collecting the arousal and groaning like a man starved. Fucking his tongue into you, he angled his nose to brush your clit, and you just about mewled. You had spent so many years either having mediocre sex or stressing over this stupid job, when this – this man you had been in love with in school – was here the whole time, just dreaming about the day he could eat your pussy. So much time wasted, so many fake orgasms, while Ken Ryuguji owned your favorite auto shop, so close to you and right under your nose. 
You were pretty sure the seat on this bike had to have been ruined. Draken was turning you into a wet mess, making your hips buck against his face. His lips wrapped your beloved clit, sucking and pulling, needing more – so much more – of you. Slipping two fingers inside you, he pumped them fast. It didn’t take long for his fingers to curl and find that sweet spot that had your core trembling around him. He didn’t know what he’d do if you came on his face. Honestly, he’d probably cum in his pants on the spot.
“C’mon … c’mon … you can cum in my m–mouth –” He was practically begging, his voice muffled from deep within your thighs. “Tastes so, so good … fuck, Cherry, fuck –”
You couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t even think about anything but the way his tongue lapped at your clit, before you were cumming on his tongue, your arousal smearing all over his lips. He moaned the second he got just a hint of your essence, burying his face more into your legs. You tasted better than candy, than cherries, than menthol cigarettes. He could spend forever between these thighs, drinking you in and listening to your desperate moans.
Once your body stopped shaking, he dragged his tongue one last time through your folds, making sure he didn’t miss a drop. You yelped from the overstimulation, and when you opened your eyes, he was rising from in between your legs. His licked at your slick still staining his lips, bringing your mouth to his again, letting you taste yourself. Your hands fisted into his shirt, downright desperate for more of him. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled back.
“I know it’s not ideal, given the place we’re in, but …” He cradled your face in both in his hands, as if you were just a baby bird. “Can I fuck you, Cherry?”
You nodded without hesitation, already drunk on his touch. You weren’t exactly sure how he planned on doing this. I mean … you two were in the dirty workshop area of an auto repair shop. This wasn’t exactly the best place to have sex. But then he was adjusting your position on the motorcycle, laying your head down by the handlebar and pulling your legs on both sides of the seat, your ass resting nicely in the curve. His hands were quick to roll off your panties.
“Ken,” you called out, sitting up a little and dragging your hand up. His white tank bunched up at the waist. “Wanna see more of you …”
Draken was so goddamn hard in his pants, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of being inside you, but you were just so pretty and he was putty in your hands. He let your palms explore him, lifting his tank top up so you could see what the fabric had been concealing. He’d really filled out since school – his arms were toned, his abdomen more defined. He looked like the statue of Apollo, all lean and muscled, but with just the right amount of grit. You liked that he never got his dragon tattoo removed (although, that would’ve been very painful), and that his piercings remained the same. Everything about him seemed untouched, but he’d just gotten better with age. Just the sight of him made your mouth water.
You leaned back down on the bike, bringing him down with you. Your lips pressed against his hungrily, and he was so, so tempted to slip his tongue into your mouth, when he felt his cock hard as a rock in his pants, aching and pulsating. His mouth broke away from yours, and he whispered, quite hopelessly, “I’m so sorry, but I really, really need to be inside you or my dick is going to explode.”
A chuckle escaped your lips, and just the sound of it made Draken smile. You nodded, urging him to continue, and he quickly unzipped the bottom half of his coveralls. He took his cock out: it was long, curved, pink at the tip, and leaking precum on the shop floor. All the more reason to be inside you; he couldn’t have his mechanics seeing that on the floor and wondering what he was doing after hours. He pulled a condom out from his wallet and slid the ribbed rubber on. Lifting both your legs onto his shoulders, your ass was almost rising off the seat and he positioned himself between your thighs, noticing the way your slick was smeared all over his seat. He grunted at the sight of it, slamming his cock into your without thinking.
You cried out, feeling him so deep so quickly. He held your legs up, leaning down as far as he could, and muttered, “Fuck, I’m sorry – so sorry – just … needed to be inside you. Needed to fuck you on my bike.”
You hand came up to cup his chin for a moment. “S’okay,” you promised, “just fuck me like you should’ve done years ago, Draken.”
He knew he told you to call him Ken, but just the nickname falling your lips in such a filthy manner had him groaning. Draken pulled out of you until only the tip remained, and then pounded his cock back inside you. You keened, trying to close your legs, but he held them up by his shoulders. He set a fast pace inside you, unable to keep his moans at bay, and slipped one hand off your leg to snake his fingers up your hoodie, pushing it up to your chin. Pulling your breasts out from your bra, his eyes clouded and played with your sensitive nipples. “So good,” he muttered, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment. “Feels so, so good … needed you for so long, Cherry.”
“I know, I know, Draken,” you whimpered, locking your arms around his neck to bring his face closer to yours, your thighs now curling against your chest. Your back ached against the seat and your legs burned from the uncomfortable position, but you wouldn’t dare push him away, not when he was filling you like this. 
With his lips just grazing yours, he tugged on your lip, making you moan, and he fucked into you harder. Your nails were now dragging down his shoulders, leaving marks that he’d think about forever. “Fuck, I’m s’deep … so deep inside you. You’re so warm, so wet – fuck, I’m so close already.”
“Wait for me,” you begged, sighing as his cock curved against your sweet spot. “Wanna cum with you, Draken.”
“I know, Cherry,” he grunted, his pace relentless. Fuck, this was all he ever needed, all he wanted to do, forever. It felt like you were made to take him. “Touch yourself f’me. Cum together … we’ll cum together.”
You nodded quickly, moving your hand in between your bodies, finding your puffy clit so easily. A whine escaped your lips as you fingers rubbed little circles, getting you so close already. You just needed a little push. Draken was slamming into you, his breaths fanning your cheeks, and when he felt your legs start to shake, your walls clenching just a little, he almost died. “Such a good girl …” He cooed, nose brushing yours. “Touching yourself f’me so nicely … fuck, you take me so well … yes, yes, you’re so close. Just like that.”
Your fingers rubbed a little faster, and you knew your orgasm was imminent. With him pushing into you, filling you completely, and the stimulation on your clit … you felt your lips purse into an O-shape. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Draken. I’m gonna … fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“I know, I know,” he groaned. “Fuck – gonna cum too. That’s a good girl … doing so good – fuck –”
His release came first. He had been close for so long, Draken was surprised he’d been able to hold back. He came with a loud groan, spilling himself into the condom, and it was only seconds later that your jaw went slack with pleasure. His name fell from your lips in a whimper, and you kept rubbing that aching clit through your orgasm, going tight around his cock. He wouldn’t stop fucking into you, even when your orgasm subsided, needing to feel you clench around him for just a moment longer. The way he filled you wasn’t like any other. You never wanted to feel empty again. You couldn’t, not when you knew how Ken Ryuguji felt inside you.
When you both eventually stopped trembling, he gently placed your legs back down on the sides of the bike. They felt sore and limp, but that was the last thing on your mind. You opened your eyes at the same time, and you both couldn’t help but laugh at the position you were in, the absurdity of it all. The workshop smelled like gas and oil, and you were surrounded by broken-down cars. But you two had fucked like you were in a bedroom, on a soft mattress, rather than a motorcycle. You hand went over your mouth to suppress your giggles.
Draken smiled with you, and then removed your hand, liking the way you laughed. “I know it’s been a long time coming, but … can I take you out some night?”
You couldn’t stop smiling even if you tried. “I’d like that, Ken.”
His cock had gone soft, but he was still nestled inside you, basking in your warmth. Draken wished he could be inside you forever, with your fingers playing with his hair. He would give anything for this moment to last, but he knew this position on the bike had to be the most uncomfortable for you, and he needed to take off this condom. He chuckled under his breath.
“Also, in case you were wondering,” he said, lips pulling into a smirk. “You can loiter around my waiting room anytime.”
735 notes · View notes
mingi-s-dimples · 1 month
Text
Crave me - yunho
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pairing: bf!yunho x gf fem!reader
rating: 18+, bdsm
genre: romance, bdsm, filthy smut (mdni ty)
summary: The bratty attitude you had with him didn't last long.. as he leaves his patience at the table and destroys you.
WC: 3.5k
warnings: rough/strict dom!yunho, bratty sub fem!reader, bdsm, choking, neck kink, sucking, blowjob, making out, tying up, pet names (darling, babe, love, pretty boy, sweetie, sweetheart), degradation kink (slut, cumslut, whore), praise kink, slapping/spanking, both vaginal and anal, use of bdsm attire (cuffs, blindfold, rope), use of toys (vibrator), sense deprivation (blindfold), little bit of hand kink, punishing, edging, creampie, ruined orgasms, multiple rounds, deals (but Yunho feels cocky and he said fuck the deal), cum cum cum a lot of cummm, squirting, mentions of safe word but never used (reader is a brat), cum eating, big dick!yunho, overstim, backshots, unprotected (REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL !), completely consesual !, for sure forgot something.
Author's Note: SO ! When I first started writing this fic, several day ago, I didn't intend to make it this.. filthy. But.. my lovely bestie rated the roughness in the other 3 fics I have posted an average of 8.sth/10 and I took that as a CHALLENGE. Hope you like it, Lis, love you sweetie. Another small note: WHY AREN'T THERE MORE BDSM FICS OUT THERE HELLO? I'M A SUCKER FOR THEM !
Update, Lis: okay, even though i saw some paragraphs before this was published, i was still taken off guard by this. i’m taking back my words, roughness level 10/10, WHEN I TELL YOU I HAD TO TAKE A BREAK AND BREATHE. seriously i love this fic sm and bia you are so talented, you never fail to amaze me❤️❤️ please keep going with your work, i love youu<3 ( i’m still waiting for a demon joong fic 👹👹👹 ) - my answer: the demon joong fic is alr in my drafts, halfway done.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.
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The grand dining hall was a symphony of opulence and elegance, its high vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate plasterwork and crystal chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow over the scene. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, their deep hues of burgundy and gold complementing the polished mahogany of the round, small dining tables. As the guests settled into their seats, the gentle strains of a string quartet drifted through the air, mingling with the soft clinking of fine glasses and the murmur of animated conversation.
At one end of the table you were sitting at, the host, Park Seonghwa raised his glass in a toast, his voice resonant and filled with the gravitas of tradition. Across from him, Hongjoong's laughter rang out, light and melodious, adding a delicate counterpoint to the music. The aroma of roasted meats and rich sauces wafted from the platters being served, each dish a masterpiece of culinary art. Conversations flowed like the wine, moving from the latest societal gossip to philosophical musings, as the guests, dressed in their finest evening attire, engaged in a dance of words and wit.
In this setting, every detail was meticulously curated to create an atmosphere of refined luxury and cultural sophistication. Yet, beneath the surface of this carefully constructed elegance, the undercurrents of intrigue and hidden agendas were beginning to stir, promising that the evening's conviviality was only the prelude to a much deeper story.
You, a renowed and well known supermodel, were sitting right next to your husband, Jeong Yunho. He was the CEO of the agency you were modelling at.
The thing is... besides the lovey-dovey side you and Yunho always showed to the other guests and your friends, for example Seonghwa, Hongjoong and the others, the two of you had... another side to your relationship.
Your intimate relationship dynamic was quite.. the opposite of what you were showing. From light forehead kisses, hand holding and warm hugs and kisses... to cuffs, blindfolds and degradation. No one knew the real you when in private, and it made the whole thing way better.
*several minutes later*
"Ooookay, should I ask the chef to bring us some desserts? I think the dinner went really well!" Hongjoong said smiling, watching each of his guests contently. He then hovered his eyes over the whole venue, you could see the happiness flooding over him. It was the ending dinner for a really important business plan that came to a final success.
While the others were happily celebrating with the host, you and Yunho were giving each other some stares. One of the things you loved the most to do was to annoy your man. Why? Cause you knew he'd destroy you the same night. You were never allowed to do things on your own, without his permission. Things such as touching him in public, deny his own touching, dress how you'd like without his approval, because he was really jealous of needy and hungry eyes that always wanted you. Everyone had envy for him, because you were the most beautiful model in your country, the agency itself was the best one, too. But tonight.. you decided to do.. everything that annoyed him and drove him insane. You first started with a.. really nice outfit, you'd say. It was halfway see-through, high heels and silver, bold jewelry completing the look. You were wearing two pieces, a short but flowy black skirt and a white, almost translucent shirt, an elegant one. Your hair was straightened, flowing beautifully on your bare back, as the shirt you were wearing only covered your chest. A silver chain was connecting two pieces of fabric on your back, making you flinch with every slight touch, because of the sheer coldness.
"Darling.. did I ever approve of... this outfit?" Yunho whispered, one of his hands going on your thigh. You tried to deny his touch, moving his hand away, but he only dug his nails deeper into your leg. You flinched, looking at him in the eyes, with an almost innocent look.
"Oh babe... don't you like it? Damn.. I thought it looked really nice" you said sheepishly, smiling at him.
"I didn't say I don't like it but... didn't we agree that these types of visible outfits are... only for me to see, hm?" he whispered and approached your neck with his lips, slightly biting it.
"Babe.. there's people around us. What would they think of you, seeing you kissing me like that?" you said, trying to get a reaction out of him but to your surprise, he remained calm and content, biting you harder.
"Do I look like I give a fuck? You did it to yourself, love. This is the first strike of tonight.. be careful for the rest of the time. I don't feel like destroying your beautiful body when we get back in the room." Yunho said, going in for a soft kiss on your lips.
"We'll see about that, babe." you said and got up from your seat, searching with your eyes the champagne bar.
Someone came behind your back. Of course, it was Yunho, all touchy on your bare waist, as the shirt you were wearing was pretty.. short.
"Babe.. I almost forgot" he mumbled.
"What did I tell you about denying my hand, hm?" his hands hovering your back, one of them on your ass and one on the nape of your neck, slightly squeezing it. "Hm? what did I tell you, mind sharing me your reason?"
"You told me that I should... never move your hand away from myself.." you said turning around to face him. "But... what's entirely wrong with it.. pretty boy? Don't you like it when I tease you..?" you said and gave him a kiss, your hands traveling from his neck to his collarbones, then from his chest to his belt, tugging at it for a second.
"This is.." he whispered. "Strike two.. my love." One more and we're out of here.. remember the rule?" he squeezed your ass, looking right into your eyes, seeing how eager you were to fuck him right there.
Several minutes pass and you were back to your table, sitting next to each other. He effortlessly pulled your seat closer to his, making you gulp at his power and speed. Looking him in the eyes you started being all touchy with him. Started from his hands, feeling up his slender and long fingers, then to his biceps. You stayed like that for a long minute, with your head resting on his shoulder, then one of your hands went straight for his crotch, no warning.
"Yunho, everything good? Why did you flinch, is it too cold here?" Seonghwa asked, confused.
"Ah yes, everything is fine, don't worry about it" he said smiling, squeezing your thigh, his hand going to your pussy, rubbing circles through your panties from under your skirt.
 "Babe... that's strike three, if you ask me." he said and patted you on your thigh, to make you look at him. He then looked around for the exit doors and excused himself, taking your hand into his.
"Joong, we'll be back, I need to take care of something at the agency" Yunho said and then dragged you out.
And as the two of you got out the doors, there was a long empty hall, no one was there. He slammed you to the wall, one of his hands on your throat and one lifting you up. He was going towards the elevator.
"Nh- babe, where are we going? you said through the kisses.
"Just upstairs, I reserved a room for us right here. I didn't think we'd need it but... you wanted to be a little slut so it serves us good. Aren't you my little whore, hm? All down for me, I saw you eye fucking me when you were getting champagne. You wanted me to fuck you dumb tonight, mm? he said while going in the elevator.
"What did you want me to do babe, hm? Did you miss my slaps and my cuffs? You little slut, you'll see what will happen if you're being a brat with me again" and right as he said this, he held you close as he opened the door with the keycard. He closed it and he dropped you on your bed.
Some meters from the king sized bed there was a small bag, and you knew so well what there was... cuffs, blindfolds, ropes.. everything you could think of as a sub. And yes.. the relationship between you and your husband, in private, was a dom/sub one. You found out that you were both into bdsm a while ago, when Yunho didn't resist anymore and tried something new on you. You loved it and... it became a really often practice.
"Love, spread out, now." he said as he went back to get something from the bag.
You were still dressed and he was too. But you could feel yourself leaking right on the bed. You knew you left a wet spot on the dark sheets, something that turned your man on even more.
"Told you to spread the fuck out, you brat. When did you get so naughty, hm? Want me to put you in your place? he said as he spread your legs out, tying them to the bed frame. You still had your clothes on, but the skirt was lifted up and the blouse was all messed up. He ripped of your panties and threw them on the floor.
You tried to say something but didn't have time to react. He went back to the bag and took out some cuffs, then got on the bed, his crotch, still dressed, rubbing on your folds. You could feel his bulge getting bigger, his pants getting thighter as he went further to tie your hands to the headboard.
"For all of what you did tonight.. babe, you'll get punished, you know that, right? he said as he hovered his hand over your throat and collarbones. "Stay still, I'll tie a sheer blindfold to your eyes. I want you to still be able to distinguish how I destroy your little and pretty pussy." 
"Yuyu.. please. Fuck me." you pleaded, trying to look him in the eyes. Whenever he tied a blindfold on your eyes.. it turned you on so bad. You couldn't properly see what was happening nor what he was doing, preparing what to do to you.. but it was thrilling.
"Hmm... what should I start with.. pretty slut, mm? Should I just edge you until you can't take it anymore and cum out of overstimulation and exhaustion, should I make you cry and not let you cum the whole night? Should I.... fuck you and deny your orgasm how you denied my hand? Tell me, sweetheart. I need words, not muffled sounds." he confidently said, giving you a smirk and his right hand going right to your blouse, easily unbuttoning it and throwing it away on the floor.
He hastly gets rid of your bra, his groping entirely unhelpful. Large hands, slender fingers roaming your body, sliding over your nipples, pressing and nibbling at them, cupping your breasts and hoisting your legs up and around his waist. Him, still clothed, you.. only with your skirt on, if that's even important.
"Fuck, Yuyu —" you gasp when he sucks a dark bruise into the skin of your neck, while one of his hands went to his shirt. He slowly unbuttoned it, then went for his pants. He undid them halfway and pushed towards you, getting a soft moan out of your slowly rising chest, heavy breathing from all the manhandling he did on you. He was taking his time. He absolutely loved seeing you begging for his cock, squirming and moving against his crotch in wish of friction. But.. Yunho left all his patience at the door.
"Babe, how did you get me this mad, hm? Did you even think about the consequences, you little slut? If that's what you wanted.. I'll destroy you, sweetheart."
Two of his fingers trace your hole before sinking into you, curling to find the right spot. All you can do is arch your back, your moans and cries soon muffled by one of his hands, as he chokes you.
"Is this what you wanted? rile me up so I'd fuck you hard tonight? all you needed to do is ask, sweetie." Yunho said, curling his fingers right into your sweet spot, receiving some loud moans from you.
You could ask and he'd give you the moon if he could. But he was a completely different person in bed. There's something about him taking you like this, almost feral, that makes your toes curl.. could it be his fingers and how he curls them in you so good that he makes you shiver and cum, maybe squirt all over the place? would it be... his cock and how deep you feel it in you, scared that he might destroy your insides?
He fucks his fingers into you sloppily, scissoring you open with little to no care if it hurts or not. It was clear that he only had one goal in sight, and that being stretching you out just enough to be able to take his cock.
It only takes a few more strokes before he's satisfied, the blunt head of his dick prodding at your entrance, getting loud whimpers from you.
"Use the safe word if it's too much" he said and started pounding into you, making your hands rocket to the headboard, holding on for dear life. It's the only warning he gives you but.. it's enough to get an understanding on how pissed he was. He was holding so thight onto your thighs, them around his waist, that you knew you'd have bruises the next day.
"So fucking tiny" he grunts as he watches you struggle to adjust to his size "Such a whore for my cock, mhm? You take it so well... even if it destroys you. Be my cumslut, won't you? I'll edge you until you can't take it anymore."
"Y-yunho !" you shouted as he used a vibrator on your clit, arching your back at the sensation. The puffed bud he was stimulating made you feel like you'd already come, but something else happend. Your walls clenched on his cock, receiving a low grunt and as he slowed down his thrusts, he watched you contently at how you squirted all over him and the bed.
"Oh wow, already? Lucky this is the only thing I'm letting you do, you little slut" he said as he thrusted even deeper, harder, sloppier into you.
"Babe, n-no don't do th-that I might c-cum" you said as he was giving you another round of circles on your clit, feeling how overstimulated you were.
"Nope, I won't let you" he said as he stopped, pulling out of you, your hole clenching on nothing.
He started rubbing his length lazily, looking at you squirming right in front of him. You wanted to be fucked dumb, until you couldn't walk anymore. But that wasn't his plan for tonight.
"Let's make a deal. If you make me cum only with your mouth, no hands and no sucking. Just touching, licking and nibbling, I'll let you cum. Otherwise, you'll get slapped and fucked... not in your little aching pussy, but deep down in your cute and red ass, until you cry. What do you say, babe, a pretty good deal, I'd say?" he said as he uncuffed your hands, lifting you on your knees.
The thing is... you weren't quite.. on your knees. You were spread out, your aching hole rubbing on the wet and sloppy linen underneath you. You started humping it slowly, not knowing if you were allowed to, but he somehow didn't mind it. He knew you weren't able to cum only from humping on a cloth so he let you do your thing.
"Now.. be my little cumslut and get on licking." he said guiding your head to his dick, throbbing on your lips. You had your hands cuffed at your back, not being able to move them. You started kissing, nibling at the tip, getting some nice groans out of him. Then you started licking the slit, putting pressure with your tongue and licking his length all down to the base of it. The circles you always make on the tip get him from being silent to being louder, as the sloppy sounds of your tongue turns him on more.
"Yes, just like that, sweetie. A liiiittle bit more and you're getting me closer."
You started nibbling, almost like sucking on his tip.
"Yuh, mhm. Go on, make me cum, you little whore" he said as his breath started getting faster, heavier, your licks getting sloppier as he tried so hard not to cum but... you did the deal. He came all over your face, as you were not allowed to suck it.
"Good girl, such a good girl you are" he said as he wiped off his load from your face with one hand and with the other one opening your mouth, his thumb on your bottom lip. He let his cum drip onto your tongue, signaling you by raising his brows to swallow. You did as he wanted, soon sucking his fingers to get every drop of his load.
"Y'know babe.. I kinda changed my mind in between your little nibbles." he said as he turned you over, on your belly, one of his hands on the back of your throat. "You're gonna take me so well, I will make sure of it." he said as two of his fingers went in your other hole, no warnings. You moaned at the feeling of his fingers curling up inside you. The same as before, his goal was to make your hole be able to engulf his length, but this time his goal was to bottom down entirely.
"Thought you could just leave me like that?" he wraps a hand around your waist, the other one on your neck, "leave me high and dry without any repercussions? You're lucky I'll keep my promise and let you cum so... cum, you little slut." as he started pounding heavily and deeply into you.
The hand he had on your waist goes to your pussy, curling them inside you and rubbing your clit.
You shake your head at his words, the coil in your tummy tightening with every word he hisses into your ear, wetness dripping down his balls and coating them as he pounds into your ass.
Yunho could feel you clenching around his cock, knows you're close by the familiar rhythm and your muffled whines rising in pitch. He removes his thight hold on your neck, letting you turn your head around, gasping for air.
"'m so close, fuck, yunho, gonna cum —"
Your entire body tenses then slumps down against the mattress, only held up by his strong arm around your waist. Yunho fucks you through your orgasm, through the oversensitivity and the chants of your little whimpers and words.
"too much, 's too much, please, s-stop" but you never use your safe word. You whine and you cry until your limp body is pushed over the edge again, eyes rolling back while you cream his cock, the 2nd time in a short time.
"c-can't," you whimper weakly, "please cum, please — Yunho, please-"
You're begging him so sweetly, voice cracking and body at his mercy. Yunho's hips stutter and his load spills deep inside of you. Your knees buckle under his waist and you whine when the two of you stumble back, his arms wrapped around your chest, all touchy on your breasts.
"You're gonna take my cum all, you little whore. Remember what I said, being my cumslut? Now, take it" he said as he continued pounding into you, getting you over the edge. He didn't lie when he said he'd destroy you, your knees trembling as he closed the gap between the two of you. He then pulled out, pumping his length and his other hand going to your clit over your thigh, sending you shivers down your spine as you squirt once again for the night, now your body being only handled by the hand he used on you.
"What a good whore I have, mm" he mumbled as he came on your back, slowing down his pumps as he slowly puts you down on the mattress.
"See babe? What happens if you're a fucking brat?" he said as he undid the blindfold, looking at your teary eyes.
"What, by the look you have, you want more, you little slut? Is that right?" he said as he slapped your ass.
"Don't worry, I wasn't even close to being done tonight, turn around, I want you to see me fucking you this time."
835 notes · View notes
minarisplaything · 9 months
Text
Going Away Present ft. Jennie Kim
pairing: Blackpink Jennie Kim x M!Reader/M!OC rating: Explicit wordcount: 3.8k summary: Being the younger sibling of a member of Blackpink meant you were constantly surrounded by temptation. When the time for you to go away to college is coming up, one member decides to give you a special gift. disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. all characters portrayed are 18+
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 It was just another day when you were walking up the front steps of your parents' house, grocery bags in hand. You couldn't help but wonder why you had been sent to get something so simple. Then again, Jisoo was in town, which meant your parents probably wanted to have some private time to catch up with her. Needless to say, being the member of a popular South Korean girl band and global ambassador for multiple brands required a lot of time away from home.
Pushing the front door open with your foot, you stumbled through the doorway, trying to see past the brown bags in your arms, “A little help—?"
"SURPRISE!!!"
A loud roar interrupted you as you stepped a foot into the house. You don't know what your reaction looked like, but judging from your slack jaw, it had to be some mixture of fear and bewilderment.
"W-What's going on?" you stammered, the bags practically falling out of your hands.
"We planned a surprise going-away party!" your mum explained as she walked towards you.
The smile on her face showed that she was clearly proud to have accomplished her goal. Your shocked expression slowly settled into a small smile and look of appreciation. Leave it to her to go above and beyond with something like this.
“Mum, I don’t leave for university for another month,” you said, handing the bags over to her.
“Yes, well, your sister is only here for two weeks then she has to leave on the international tour. So we decided to do it now. Go on, enjoy yourself, sweetie."
Your smile faltered somewhat. Ah, that explained it better. You would be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to going to university to make a fresh start for yourself out of your sister's shadow. You looked around the room, briefly noting the guests. It was the usual crowd; relatives, some schoolmates, longtime neighbors, and sure enough, your sister, Jisoo, and the other members of Blackpink.
You bit the bottom of your lip as you looked at them. Damn, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa looked amazing. No, you chastised yourself, Keep it together. Pushing your inappropriate thoughts aside, you turned back to the crowd of gathered people.
"Uh, thanks a lot for coming, guys. I’m sure there's plenty of food and drink, so let's enjoy ourselves."
Luckily, you were spared standing in an awkward silence as someone took the cue to start the music, and the party began. Now you say party, but that was being a bit generous. In reality, you spent most of the afternoon going around to various groups of people, talking and thanking them for coming. The questions were mostly the same: What university will you be going to? What will you be majoring in? How far is it? Have you thought about life after university and so on. It was exhausting, really.
Eventually, you worked your way to the backyard where the members of Blackpink stood gathered. Oddly enough, you had known them almost better than you knew anyone else at the party. In that sense, you couldn't help but be relieved when you finally made it to them.
"He's so grown up!" Chaeyoung squealed as you walked over. "I remember when he was eye level with me."
An embarrassed grin crossed your features as you stopped in front of them. Seeing them so often going through teenage years was never easy and often led to you excusing yourself to your room. At least now you could control yourself...mostly. Chaeyoung, or Rosie, was right though. Where you had once been eye-level and even shorter than her, you now towered over her.
“Ah, I never thought I’d see this day,” Jisoo said dramatically, moving over and wrapping an arm around you. “I was sure he’d drop out of school or something before university.”
The girls laughed as you shrugged her off, “Don't let mom and dad hear you saying that,” you teased looking over at her. "Besides, we all know I'm the brains in the family."
“Does that make me the talented one?”
The others laughed at the display of sibling bantering, and you couldn't help but join in. At moments like this, it was easy to forget just how famous she actually was.
Wearing a slight grin of her own, Jennie Kim moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your neck and standing to the side, “Be nice, Jisoo-unnie, it’s a special day for him,” she said before leaning up to give you a kiss on the cheek. You could immediately feel your face start to redden and hoped the fading sunlight in the yard was enough to mask it. “Plus we have a special way to send you off later.”
You raised your eyebrows curiously. Jennie had always been your favorite among your sister’s friends, something you were sure they secretly knew but didn’t want to embarrass you by pointing out. The idea of a special send-off from her had already sent your mind down an optimistic path. Something Jennie seemed to pick up on as her grin grew.
“Get your mind out of the gutter! It's just a nice club downtown. Especially since you’re old enough to drink now.”
Not exactly the special gift your dirty mind had hoped for but you'd take it. Besides, there were people around the country who would kill to be in your position right now.
“Sounds perfect. This is a nice party and all but there's only so much excitement a going-away party thrown by your parents can have.”
“Don't worry, you’ll have plenty of excitement later,” Jennie winked at you, causing Jisoo to hit her playfully.
“Yah! Stop giving my baby brother the wrong idea!” Jisoo protested.
“Who said it's the wrong idea," Lisa chimed in, a mischievous look on her face, "We might find him a nice girl for the night."
"I'm not listening to this," your sister comically stuck her fingers in her ear.
A round of laughter broke out as Jisoo comically covered her ears. Undeterred, you looked around the yard before returning to the girls, "So when are you guys taking me out for this magical night?”
“Be ready by eleven. Lines aren't exactly an issue for us,” Jennie spoke up first.
You nodded, of course. Benefits of being famous and all.
“Sounds good. You’ll see us all then.”
You hesitated for a moment before leaning down to place a quick peck on Jennie's cheek. This, of course, caused teasing ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ from the group. You walked away without looking back, but over your shoulder, you could hear Lisa talking as her gaze stared you down.
“He hasn’t even gone off on his own yet, and he’s making man moves.”
The rest of the party went as it had before your run-in with your sister and friends, which was to say boring and dull. Not that it was any fault of their own. It was hard to focus on casual conversation when your mind was already thinking ahead to going out to a club with Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa. And Jisoo as well, you supposed. Eventually, your parents were seeing everyone out, and you were able to slip away to get prepared for the night. Despite not being active in the nightlife scene, you felt compelled to look your best tonight.
It turned out Jennie hadn't been lying. After picking you up, you took a taxi to some club in the heart of the nightlife district. Even with yourself looking terribly out of place, you walked right in and were guided to a table in the VIP section. It was surreal, really. And while you recognized that for many, simply a night at the club with Blackpink would be a dream, your mind couldn't help but wander back to Jennie's words and hope for more.
After a few shots and celebratory toasts, the party was well and truly underway. You could feel yourself starting to loosen up, and whatever nerves you might've had beforehand began to fade away. Time seemed to flow at its own pace, and you were a passenger to its whims.
“I still can’t believe you guys just get VIP tables like this,” you leaned over to say to Jennie, who sat to your right.
“It’s one of the perks of the job,” she replied with a smile before sipping her current drink. “Do you want another?” she pointed to the bottle; you shrugged and held your glass out.
“Jennie! I’m going to go use the bathroom, Chaeyoung is coming with me,” Jisoo shouted over to you.
Her bandmate gave an affirmative response, leaving you alone with Jennie and Lisa. Your thoughts began to wander once again, but before you could work up the courage to act on any of them, you heard a voice calling out to you.
"Do you dance?" 
It was Lisa, leaning over the couch towards Jennie and you. 
Feeling your nerves suddenly come back, you stammered, “Well uh, not too often I can’t really say—"
Jennie's laughter filled your ear, "Just come on!" 
She placed her drink down and took one of your hands while Lisa grinned and took the other. Together they guided you from your booth to an area to dance. Which, while not as crowded as the main floor, was still packed. Jennie easily found you a nook to slide into. She turned around, looking up at you as she pressed her body close to yours and began moving to the electronic beat without a moment's hesitation. Similarly, you could feel Lisa pressing against you from behind, sandwiching you between the two women.
If this was your gift, you could die a happy person.
"Take a deep breath," Jennie says soothingly, her hands rising above her head as she moves effortlessly to the music. Was is that obvious? You try to follow suit, but your body remains rigid despite your best efforts to loosen up. She turns towards you, pressing her backside against your crotch, and you feel waves of pleasure course through your veins.
Without warning, she takes your hands and places them on her hips, leaving them there as if daring you to move them. As you stand frozen in shock, wondering if this is an invitation or not, Lisa wraps her arms around you from behind. Her fingers trace intricate patterns against your skin as she moves to the music.
"Oh fuck..." you muttered, hoping the music masked your comment from their ears.
The singer continued her moves, even going as far to ratchet it up as she slid down using your body as if it were a stripper pole. As a result it also caused your hands to move from her hips to where her breasts were. Unable to help yourself your fingers flexed, feeling the mounds concealed by her tight top.  As if spurred on by your actions her ass rotated, rubbing directly into your crotch over and over again. 
“Noona...Jennie...” you tried to warn but your words were lost in the stereo music as she continued to dance.
You could feel yourself beginning to grow hard but could do nothing to stop her as she moved to the song. Every now and then her arms would wrap around my neck, pulling you down ever so closely only to release you and resume grinding against you in various ways. To add on to that you could feel Lisa's body pressed firmly against mine from behind. Whether either girl sensed or felt what was stirring they didn't let it stop them.
“Ssh, enjoy yourself,” Jennie cooed over the music. 
And you were. Very much so in fact. 
After all, who wouldn’t be in this position? Jennie Kim was rubbing her fit ass against your crotch as she danced to the music to the point where it felt like she was giving you a private lap dance. Meanwhile, Lisa was letting her hands roam over your body as if she was worshiping your form. No one in their right mind would want this to end. 
It was only when Lisa moved from around you and began to dance with Jennie in front of you that you finally felt like you were in danger of doing something embarrassing. As intoxicating as the sight was, it wasn’t worth ejaculating inside your pants in front of them. Mustering what willpower you had, you forced yourself to take a step back, whispering a brief excuse. 
“Sorry, ladies, I need to take care of something.”
Before they could turn around to question you on the matter, you made my way through the crowd and made a beeline for the restroom; oblivious to the knowing looks and devilish smiles that the two women exchanged. 
“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you stumbled into a bathroom stall.
You braced yourself against the sides, taking deep breaths as you tried to compose yourself. Which was easier said than done when your cock was painfully hard. As tempting as it was to jerk off and relieve yourself, there was no way you were doing that in a public stall. That seemed like you’d be asking for some kind of infection.
No, no. You just need to take a few minutes, regain your composure, and then you’d go out there and pick up where you left off.
“They were just teasing me. No way that was serious…” you muttered to yourself. “But still…”
What if they weren’t just teasing? What if this was your chance to make a move? If their dance moves were any indication they were feeling it just as much as you were. And it was your birthday after all. Stranger things had happened before, right? Probably. 
Thinking about your plan, of the potential of success, didn’t exactly help quell your excitement but at least you weren’t sporting an aching bulge ready to tear through your pants. You left the stall, went to the sink and splashed some water on your face. With a look in the mirror you set your determination and made your way back to the dance floor.
When you didn’t spot the girls you made your way back to the VIP area where you saw Jennie sipping on her drink and looking at her phone.
“Hey,” you called out.
“There you are,” her eyes lit up as she looked up at you. 
“Decided to take a break?”
“Something like that.”
“What happened to Lisa? The others?” you asked.
Jennie leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. The tight dress she wore rode up her thighs, giving you a delicious sight, “Oh, she had something to take care of. I think your sister and Rosie are off dancing the night away.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to remember your prior pep talk, “I guess it’s just the two of us.”
Jennie, meanwhile, wasn’t lacking confidence at all. She practically oozed it as she leaned forward, resting her elbow on one of her knees and placing her chin in her hand. She looked as though she could devour you with a single word and honestly, you would let her. 
“It seems that way,” she cooed, “I was actually thinking of getting out of here…” 
Your eyes went wide but you hoped you continued your composure otherwise, “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” Jennie raised her hand to her mouth in what you guessed was a faux yawn, “I’m feeling exhausted. I guess I can’t party the same way I used to.”
This was it. Your chance.
“I can take you home if you want.”
A wicked grin crossed her features. 
“Jisoo always said you were well-mannered. I’ll text the girls and tell them we’re heading out.”
LATER THAT NIGHT…
Your back crashed against Jennie’s door and her lips were immediately on yours.
From the moment you had entered the cab to get back to her place it had felt like a fever dream. Her hand had teasingly run along your thigh the whole ride and at one point her lips had found their way to your neck.
Once you had arrived and stumbled into her apartment, she was all over you. No more suggestive touches with hidden meanings, no more coy flirtations. Her lips were on yours while her hands grabbed at your body. It was exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. Despite not drinking more than that initial shot, your head was spinning. This was happening. It was somewhat fortunate that you didn’t have time to overthink it at all.
Jennie’s hands gripped at your shirt, quickly undoing the buttons and pushing it over your shoulders. Next her hands moved to your belt buckle, her teeth biting at your bottom lip as she looked up at you with a sex-crazed gaze.
“I didn��t give you a gift at your party did I?” she asked.
“I-I don’t think so,” you moaned, feeling her hand slip into your pants to grip your cock.
“Then consider my pussy your graduation gift,” Jennie said, “Or a going away present. Whichever you want to call it.”
Her words made your head spin to the point all you could do was nod dumbly. Jennie had a wicked smile on her features as she reached down, pulling your pants and boxers away to expose your aching erection. An erection that you’d been dealing with practically since the club.
“I was wondering what it looked like,” Jennie cooed. “You know, Lisa and I were taking bets on just how big it was.”
“You were?” the thought caused your cock to jump in excitement.
“Mhmm.” Jennie bit her bottom lip as she reached down, her fingers curling around your shaft. “She’s going to be jealous that I got to you first you know. You’d split her in half with this.”
The combination of Jennie stroking your cock and the image of plowing into Lisa was enough to make you more than ready to receive your gift. Something Jennie must have realized as well as you heard her let out a giggle. She rose to her feet and turned, briefly giving you a view of her ass in the tight dress that hugged her fit body.
The view became even greater when she bent over, reached under her dress and slowly pulled her panties down her thighs. She looked over her shoulder, watching your face as she stepped out of them. Briefly you wondered what it’d be to get a lap dance from her. An idea to hope for in the future maybe.
“You can take these with you when you leave,” Jennie winked.
She placed the panties on top of the desk before looking back at you. She hitched up her red dress, revealing her bare ass and exposed pussy to you. If it weren’t for the fact that all the blood had already left your head and gone to your cock, you might’ve fainted on the spot.
“Fuck…”
“Come on then. Come enjoy your gift,” she said. She wiggled her ass as she invited you to close the distance in the hallway and take her.
“Do I need a condom?” you fumbled.
Jennie laughed and shook her head, her hair sticking loosely to her already sweat-covered body, “Don’t worry about that.”
She didn’t have to say it twice. The thought left your mind and you closed the distance between her and yourself. One hand took hold of your cock, lining herself up at her dripping entrance. You paused for a beat, etching the visual into your memory banks as you finally slipped inside of her. To say you had fantasized about your sister's bandmates before would be an understatement. In that sense, this was a dream come true. But even those dreams couldn't compare to the real feeling of Jennie's tight walls squeezing around your cock.
"Fuck, that's it, baby," Jennie moaned, bracing herself with one hand against the wall.
Slowly you buried inch after inch inside of the pop star until your hips were flush against Jennie's ass. As much as you wanted to savor the moment, the desire to fuck your long-time crush was far more overwhelming. Jennie was clearly ready for you to start given the way she ground her ass against you, imploring you to start thrusting immediately. You obliged her, slipping your cock out before filling her to the hilt once again and again.
"Fucking hell," you grunted.
"That's it. Fuck me, Baby" Jennie urged, moans falling from her plump lips.
As you gained a rhythm she began to meet your thrusts with her own movements. Your hands moved to her waist, squeezing gripping her tight as you fucked her. It was hard enough to make sure that there would be marks there tomorrow morning but not enough to cause any discomfort. In fact, judging from the moans of encouragement Jennie let out, she didn't seem to have any complaints.
"Harder," she gasped.
"Yes ma'am."
Every time you entered her from behind it  resulted in her perfect ass smacking against you, filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against each other. Jennie clawed against the wall as you pistoned your cock inside of her faster and faster, drawing out both of your pleasure. And it was good. Incredible even. Each thrust inside of Jennie was better than the last, far better than anything your imagination could have come up with. 
It was safe to say that the continued feeling of her pussy tightening around your cock far surpassed late nights with your own hand. The only problem was that you knew that it wouldn't last forever. That sooner rather than later you'd be emptying your balls inside of Jennie Kim. Or maybe she'd let you finish on her face.
"Fuck!" you gasped, cock twitching at the thought.
"Does it feel good, baby?" Jennie cast a glance over her shoulder. Her dark hair was sticking to her forehead, her cheeks flushed red, "You don't have to hold back for me. Let yourself go."
"Jennie-- " you warned, desperately.
All you could focus on was the feeling of Jennie's pussy, the desire to fuck her harder, and the looming inevitable release that was growing closer and closer with each thrust.
"I'm--Fuck. I'm going to--" you gasped.
You didn't have time to finish your sentence as Jennie slipped free of your grasp. Before you knew it she was on her knees in front of you, her mouth open and tongue sticking out as she stroked your cock furiously. One look at that sight and it was well and truly over. Your balls tightened, your pent up release spewing all over the pop idol's face. Your cock twitched in her grasp, ropes of your seed splattering her features. You had seen Jennie a lot over the years, but you had never witnessed her like this.
"Jesus christ..."
When it was all said and done you were exhausted and utterly spent. As your cock finally began to soften, Jennie ran a manicured finger over her face, scooping up a wad of your cum and sucking it clean off her fingers. When she looked up at you she seemed as satisfied as you felt.
"Congratulations again on graduating," Jennie said, a wicked smile on his lips. "I can't wait to see you when you come back for break."
BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.
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wongyuseokie · 4 months
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Exile | k.m.g
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Summary: You two were high school sweethearts, and your love story was something only found in the scripts of a shitty teenage rom-com, but he was a jock, and you were shy and quiet. It shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. Now, fast forward ten years, and things aren’t the same. Your lives aren’t the same; he’s stuck in the past, and you only focus on the future. Neither of you has your priorities straight, and neither realises that your present is a complete and utter mess. You won’t let him go because he’s all you’ve ever known, and he won’t let you go because you’re the only thing right in his life, but will love and high school promises keep you two together?
☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works
Word Count: 20,221 words
Pairings: Kim Mingyu x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Slice of Life AU! Fluff, Angst, Smut (the holy trinity, if you will) 
Content Warnings: Slice of Life AU! (don’t say I didn’t warn you; this won’t be a nice one, or will it hee-hee). Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments. Couples counselling–do note I am not an actual therapist. I just write fiction. Incredibly angsty. Body insecurities and mentions of blood are not much or graphic. Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t do this). Fingering, oral (male and female receiving). Multiple orgasms, squirting, hand jobs. Use of sex toys. Hickies. Dry humping. Mingyu cums in his trousers (but like, what can I say? He’s in love). Shower sex.   Authors Note 1: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe. 
Author’s Note 2: Thank you to my darling @the-boy-meets-evil for beta'ing this despite being so busy. I love you dearly. Part of the Broken Illusions Stories
© wongyuseokie 2024. All rights reserved.
“Okay, I kept my mouth shut the entire dinner, but honey, this is the fifth time you’ve been back home since you and Mingyu moved in together, and I still see no ring. No signs of a marriage, nothing,” your mother started to say as she sipped her wine, making you groan as you took a large gulp of yours. 
“Can we not ruin every trip back home with this?” You moaned, and your mother shrugged. 
“I’m ruining nothing, but honey, ten years, and you two still aren’t engaged or together. As a mother, I want to know you have stability,” your mother spoke, looking down at the red-coloured liquid in her glass. 
“I don’t need a husband for stability,” you bit back, making your mother raise her brow in disapproval at you with your tone. 
“I never said that, but how long do you two just plan on dating? You two have moved in and been together for ten years. Now? Honey, he hasn’t even come back to visit the last two times you came,” your mother continued explaining, making you groan. 
“I’m thinking he dodged a bullet,” you mumbled, earning a sigh from your mother. 
“Besides, he hasn’t even proposed, so why should I pressure him?” You suggested, and your mother frowned at you. 
“You could ask him?” Your mother offered gently, and you sighed deeply.
“Or are you like him? Dragging your feet?” Your mother questioned, and you shrugged. 
“We’re comfortable. Why is that not enough for you?” You asked, genuinely wondering why your mother always brought this topic up.
“Is it enough for you? To be comfortable? If that’s what you are willing to settle for, then sure, but my love, comfort is fine, but it’s dangerous. When you’re too comfy in a relationship, you take every second for granted, and you think it’ll last forever, and you get lazy,” your mother lectured, making you roll your eyes at her. 
“Can you stop projecting your marriage or failed marriage onto my thriving relationship?” You asked immediately, feeling guilt surge through your veins at your harsh words. 
Your mother only ever wanted to help you. 
“Mum,” you started to say, stopping when she held a hand up to stop you. 
“It’s because of my failed marriage I can spot the warning signs from a mile away. I’m not saying you and Mingyu will be a repeat of what your father and I were, but if you don’t get clarity on where you two stand, you’ll always be in the grey with him,” your mother explained before finishing off her drink. 
“I don’t need him to prove anything to me, but when was the last time you spoke about the future?” Your mother asked, and you fumbled to give her an answer and came up blank, making your mother only sigh more. 
“Get some rest. You have an early train to catch tomorrow. This is food for thought,” your mother said kindly before standing up to hug you and heading upstairs. 
You sighed deeply, took in the night sky, and thought hard. 
You and Mingyu stopped discussing the future when he kissed you at sixteen. Sure, you two were young, but you knew in your heart he was the one. But as your relationship progressed, Mingyu seemed to hold onto the past, and anytime the future would come up, he’d change topics and walk away, and if he tried to reminisce, you’d walk away. 
You two were in different tenses, but neither of you ever wanted to acknowledge the present. 
The present, where the last time you two had a date night was five months ago, and the last time he made love to you—properly, not just a quick fuck or a sloppy blowjob—but the last time he was intimate with you, was also five months ago. The present you and Mingyu shared looked like a foreshadowing of a hollow future. You let out a frustrated groan. 
You and Mingyu had to talk if you wanted to save whatever you two had, but why did it feel like a part of you had already let go?
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“Sweetie, the wine may have made me too bold, and I apologise for overstepping. Your relationship is none of my business,” your mother apologised for the fifth time that day, and the most recent apology was in the car on the way to the train station. 
“It’s fine. I guess you’re not wrong. You did give me a lot to think about. I got defensive because I’ve felt distant from him, we’ve both not had the time, and I guess I felt like you were calling me out when I know that’s not the case,” you admitted, and your mother gave you a soft smile before turning back to look at the road. 
“It’s like a bandaid; maybe he feels the same, and a talk will help, but keeping it in your head, where your demons lie, that’s the worst, so just rip it off and let the wound heal with time,” your mother said wisely making you smile. 
“If anything goes wrong, I’m always a safe place for you to come home to,” your mother added, and you nodded at her, thanking her profusely as you hugged her goodbye. While you appreciated her offer, you did not want to be back here sobbing and seeking refuge in a week. 
 You shook your head, trying to free yourself of the thoughts taking over your mind, taunting you, that you and Mingyu were destined to end. 
You two would be fine; you both survived high school and university and would continue to do so in the long run, but one question kept plaguing your mind. 
Why was the main aim to survive? 
Why wasn’t it to rekindle the flame? 
Why did it feel so desperate, and why did he feel so far away? ~~ Warning Signs  ~~
It felt weird. That’s the first thing you noted the minute you placed your hand on the doorknob of your apartment. You usually didn’t notice such insignificant details, but the doorknob felt cold.
Was it a preemptive sign that you’d be greeted with coldness from Mingyu? 
Or was it the frost that had settled over your relationship that made everything you touched feel cold?
You drew in a deep breath for courage, something to face him. You knew him forever and didn’t know where the sudden apprehension came from. Why did it all feel so difficult? 
“Baby!” You were greeted with Mingyu yelling. His arms moved to wrap around your waist and carried you as he planted a soft kiss on your lips. 
“Missed you,” Mingyu mumbled against your lips, making you smile, but that moment was short-lived when you saw the state of the house. 
“What’s wrong? I know I didn’t do anything, considering you just walked in?” Mingyu joked, placing you down on the floor. 
“The house is a state. You knew I was coming home today. Why is it such a mess?” You complained, and Mingyu frowned, following you into the living room. 
“Why don’t you nap, and I’ll clean up?” Mingyu offered, and you shook your head. 
“How would I sleep if you’re cleaning up? It’d be noisy, jeez, Mingyu. You know it’s not rocket science to keep a household together,” you nagged, making him frown at you. 
“Why are you like this? You just walked into the house and started bitching, I thought you’d update me about how the trip was, but instead, you’re here kicking up a fuss,” Mingyu threw back, and you rolled your eyes at him. 
“A fuss? Mingyu, there’s nothing to update. All I got was the third degree about why my boyfriend of ten years can’t commit to anything more. Coming home, I realised her concerns were warranted because you’re still that kid, Mingyu. You wanted to be composed and strong, but even vocalising a future without him hurt you. You need to grow up because I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” your voice faltered at your last words. 
“Wow, why don’t you tell me how you feel?” Mingyu mocked sarcastically, and you knew what he was doing. He was using his pride to cover his hurt, and you hated this quality of his. It made him annoying and standoffish. 
“I’m so over this. When you want to grow up and have a conversation like an adult, find me, but I’m taking a nap, and once I’m done, I’ll clean up; don’t bother helping. I’m used to cleaning up your messes for you,” you spat, knowing your words hit Mingyu hard. There is so much venom lacing your comments, piercing Mingyu’s heart. 
“The bedroom, you should sleep in the guest room. It’s a mess in our bedroom,” Mingyu mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at him, scoffing. 
“Of course it fucking is. What in this house isn’t a mess?” You asked, making Mingyu look down to the ground. You knew you had gone too far, but you had to make him hear you, and sadly, he only heard you when you were like this. 
“Whatever, I’m going to take a nap,” you mumbled, not having the energy to fight any longer as sleep started seeping into your bones. 
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You awoke a couple feeling extraordinarily guilty and groggy, but Mingyu should have known better. You never needed the house to look perfect, but it should have been clean. Or livable, like adults.  
You groaned, deciding to get out of bed and shower before starting the housework. At least it’d wake you up a bit. Since you were in the guestroom, you couldn’t find anything else to wear except one of Mingyu’s oversized shirts, and while you wanted to be petty and not put on anything that resembled him, you knew you were taking it too far. 
You sighed, putting on his shirt, smiling at you wrapped up in his clothes, taking in his scent. You never told him, but it always felt like he hugged you tightly, keeping you safe whenever you wore his clothes. They were like a security blanket, one you needed desperately because the owner of the clothes lately gave you no assurance about the relationship. 
“Mingyu?” You spoke as you stepped out into the hallway and walked into the living room. It was neat, clean, and tidy, and you immediately felt guilty. Mingyu didn’t deserve your harsh words; he would eventually get the job done, but that’s the problem. It was inevitable, and you didn’t know if you could wait any longer. 
You walked towards your shared bedroom to find Mingyu fluffing the pillows and jumping slightly when you touched his back, startling him. 
“Sorry, you woke up early, nearly done,” Mingyu rambled, and your heart broke when you heard his voice crack and took in his swollen, red eyes and puffy nose. 
“Baby,” you cooed, and Mingyu glared at you, jerking away from your touch. 
“Don’t call me that. I’m not a fucking kid,” Mingyu spat as he threw the pillow onto the bed and walked over to his side of the bed and sat down, and you crawled onto the bed and sat between his thighs, making him look at you.
“I’m so sorry, I was frustrated,” you apologised, and Mingyu scoffed. 
“You used all my insecurities, our past, and the fights we’ve had against me, and that sucked. You called me a kid. You insinuated that I couldn’t keep a household together when I’ve fought tirelessly for us for the past ten years,” Mingyu exclaimed in annoyance, his words making you snap. 
“No, you didn’t fight for us; you fought just to have the idea of us, but you got comfortable, but that’s all you’ve ever done. You’ve never taken the next step,” you cried out, and Mingyu groaned. 
“You’re insane. I fought, kept up with your life, adjusted mine, and did all that because I love you, but I don’t know what else to do because clearly, nothing I do is enough for you,” Mingyu answered, his voice getting softer. 
“You’re right, you did, but you stopped and got comfortable fuck, Mingyu. I don’t know if you see a future with me. You’ve given me no indication,” you started to say, earning a glare from Mingyu. 
“What do you want me to propose?” Mingyu asked, making you glare at him. 
“Not like this, and not because I forced you,” you added, and Mingyu groaned, getting off the bed and fiddling around in the drawer next to you. 
“I was going to do it tonight,” Mingyu admitted calmly as he tossed a black velvet box onto the bed. 
“What?” You asked, and Mingyu rolled his eyes at your confused expression. 
“I was going to give you forever tonight, but you never fucking wait, do you? You always rush into the future without caring for what you leave behind. You’ve been five steps ahead of me for so long, and forgive me if I slipped up somewhere along the way, but I got tired of running after you when you’re so ready to let go of me,” Mingyu answered tearfully. 
Mingyu plopped down on the bed, his back to you, his head hanging low. You could hear him take in shuddered breaths, and your heart broke because you knew you had hurt him this time. 
“Mingyu,” you started to say, moving simultaneously to place a hand on his shoulder, making him look at you with teary eyes as he turned around to sit on the edge of the bed to face you. 
“I know I’m not everything you want in a partner. I just thought our love would be stronger. That it would conquer everything, that you’d love me harder than our problems? I know I did, but I guess that’s how immature I am because I guess that’s not reality,” Mingyu lamented, and even though you knew his words could be misconstrued to hurt you, that wasn’t the case. He was thinking out loud. 
“Mingyu,” you repeated, making him sigh as he moved back to sit against the headboard, patting the space between his thighs again. This time, you moved to sit between them quickly, your hands moving to pull him into a tight embrace.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled into Mingyu’s hair as you patted his back, moving as he cried into the embrace. 
“For what?” Mingyu mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. 
“For ruining a proposal?” Mingyu asked, letting out a dry laugh as he pulled away from the embrace, wiping his tears away and staring at you. 
“You didn’t. I guess this fight was bound to happen fuck. I knew we were falling apart, but I foolishly thought that if I ignored our problems or loved you harder, then it’d be okay, we’d be okay,” Mingyu admitted, placing a hand on your cheek and wiping away a tear. You hadn’t realised you were crying until he wiped away the tears. 
“But I only did one thing. I only ignored our problems, and I know I only ignored you. I love you more than life, but I failed to show you how much, and now I’m hoping that a shiny ring will fix it all, and I know it won’t,” Mingyu continued to speak, taking a deep breath before speaking. 
“I’ve used up all my good graces, that I’m sure of, but can we try? One more time? Please? I don’t think I can let you go, not yet. I don’t think I can ever let you go, but if you give me one more chance, my love. I’ll try, and if it’s over, I’ll let you go. Don’t give up on me,” Mingyu begged, and you nodded. 
“Mingyu, I’m so sorry. I should have conveyed my feelings to you in a healthier manner instead of simply yelling. Everything I heard from my mum this weekend was in my mind, and I couldn’t get it out. I just kept going over it, again and again, and I hated it, and I guess I just took it out all on you, and I’m so sorry,” you apologised, cradling his face in your hands. 
“No, it’s okay. I think we both saw this fight coming. I guess it’s easier to rip off the bandaid?” Mingyu joked, a sad smile adorning his handsome face. 
“I just felt so far away from you, so distant, and I guess when everyone questioned me about the integrity of my relationship. It just annoyed me, and instead of talking to you, I lashed out, and I’m sorry for that,” you apologised, meaning every word. 
“I love you; I do. I know I haven’t been good at showing it, fuck, our last date was five months ago,” Mingyu started to say, and you knew he’d begin to spiral if you didn’t shut him up in the best way you knew. 
“Mingyu,” you said softly, making him look at you as you inched closer and crawled onto his lap, his hands naturally finding your waist. 
“We’ll talk, and we’ll be okay,” you encouraged before placing your lips onto his, making him melt into your touch. His hand moved from your waist to rest on the hem of your shit, well, his shirt, but he didn’t care.
“Fuck,” Mingyu groaned as you moved your lips away from his to latch onto his neck, kissing the soft skin, gently nipping it, leaving faint marks, and running your tongue over the spots you bit. 
“Baby, if you keep doing that,” Mingyu started to say as you pulled away from his neck to peel the shirt off your body, leaving you in your underwear. 
“I know we have a lot to talk about, and sex isn’t going to fix anything, but I do, for once, want to feel close to you again. I want to be loved by you,” you admitted, and Mingyu nodded, understanding what you meant as he got off the bed and peeled off his clothes. 
“You’re so fucking hot,” you blurted out, making Mingyu laugh. 
“Ten years and you still think I’m hot?” Mingyu asked, and you smiled fondly at him. 
“You’re always the most handsome man to me, doesn’t matter how many years,” you admitted, making Mingyu smile at you. 
“Lie down on your back, princess. I need to show you just how much I love you,” Mingyu instructed, and you nodded, quickly adjusting yourself until you were lying down on the bed, head on the pillow, making Mingyu grin at you as he crawled between your legs. 
Mingyu leaned forward, wrapping his lip around your nipple while his other hand massaged your other breast. Mingyu moved his mouth to your other breast and flicked and licked your nipples until they were hard. 
Mingyu gave them a final flick, earning a whimper from you.  “Oh, the sounds you make for me. I like them,” Mingyu praised as he reached for your panties. Mingyu pulled them off and threw them across the room. Mingyu rolled his eyes and parted your legs, and placed a soft kiss on your clit, making you buck your hips into his mouth. 
Mingyu ran his tongue along your slit. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, interlocking them at your stomach. Mingyu smirked against your pussy, knowing that he could eat you out for ages in this position, and you wouldn’t be able to move, and all you could do was fall apart on his tongue repeatedly.
This is precisely what Mingyu intended to do as he flicked your clit with his tongue, then wrapped his mouth around your clit, his tongue tracing circles along the swollen nub. Mingyu kept licking you, his pace never faltering, and his rhythm never changing. 
“Fucking hell,” you moaned as you threw your head back in pleasure. 
“So good,” you praised, making Mingyu smirk, continuing his movements, making you shake in his grip. 
“Mingyu,” you cried out in pleasure as you fell apart on his tongue, but Mingyu didn’t stop just because you came. He kept going, sucking on your clit as you rode your orgasm on his tongue. 
“Fuck, Mingyu,” you whimpered as he kept licking you, you were sure you were wailing, but you didn’t care. 
Not when you were on the precipice of your second orgasm. Your second orgasm hit you harder, and your hands moved to his head as you gently pushed his mouth away from your cunt. Mingyu smiled at you, taking in your fucked out expression.
You sat up abruptly, reaching out to touch his hard cock, but Mingyu stopped you. 
“Not tonight. I need to feel you, my love,” he said as he took his cock in his hands and moved to line it up along your pussy. 
“Fuck,” you gasped out as he entered you. It had been, so you two had sex, so the stretch was a slight shock but one you’d gladly welcome.  “Baby, you’re so tight, fuck,” Mingyu hissed as he pushed in further, making you clench around him immediately. You moaned as Mingyu bent down to pull you into a kiss as he started to thrust into you. 
You groaned and babbled nonsense as Mingyu pounded into you, moving his hand down to rub your clit as he fucked you. 
“Fuck,” you choked out, holding onto his toned arms. 
“Cum, pretty girl,” Mingyu encouraged as his fingers moved faster against your clit, making you shake and tighten on his cock. 
You held onto his muscular arms, “cum, baby,” Mingyu spoke breathlessly, making you shake and tighten around him. It felt incredible, making Mingyu groan as you came around him. 
“Fuck, fuck,” Mingyu chanted as he pounded into you, groaning as he buried his head between your breasts as he came. Mingyu placed a soft kiss on your lips, slowly pulling out of you. 
“That was amazing,” you muttered. Mingyu smiled as he laid down next to you and pulled you into his toned chest,
“I’m not saying this to avoid anything, but I know I skipped every step to make things right,” Mingyu said, pulling away gently from you.  
“Look, you’ve had a long journey home and a shitty welcome back. I ordered dinner. It should be here soon. Help yourself. Why don’t we chat tomorrow?” Mingyu offered, and you nodded at him. 
Mingyu smiled softly as he moved closer to you and kissed your forehead softly. 
“We’ll be okay,” he said with a smile, except you didn’t know if you could believe him. 
Despite the mind-blowing sex, you had just opened a bandaid that held in ten years of hurt. 
Now it was open. You would have to feel every burn and sting before you two could heal, and what if that wound was too far gone to recover?
 What if there was no saving you two?
~~ You Were My Crown  ~~
“Morning,” you mumbled to Mingyu the following day when he walked into the kitchen, hair wet, fresh out of the shower, handsome as always. 
“Hey,” Mingyu replied, walking over to kiss your forehead, smiling fondly at you as he sighed, sitting down on one of the counters by the kitchen island. 
“So, I was thinking that after last night, as amazing as it was, we should talk,” Mingyu said, and you pouted, nodding. 
While you did want to just bask in the bliss and romance of last night with him, you knew if you kept pushing your feelings down, then there would be no saving you two, so you decided to sit across from him, making him grin as he placed a business card on your lap. 
“A divorce attorney? Hate to break to you, but we aren’t married,” you joked as you picked up the card. 
“Oh, couples counselling?” You said aloud, reading the card, and Mingyu nodded at you. 
“I got this from one of my Hyung. They said that when they were about almost to call it quits with their partner, they went here, and even if it was painful and made them feel vulnerable, it’s the only thing that kept them together,” Mingyu explained, placing a hand on your knee. 
“You think we’re that far gone that we need professional help?” You asked with a dry laugh, and Mingyu shrugged. 
“I don’t think we’re too far gone, but we’ve been together for so many years that I don’t think it’d be too shocking if we’re both holding in a lot and not being straight up with each other, at times and I don’t want what happened last night to happen again. I don’t want us holding things in and exploding,” Mingyu answered calmly. 
“Even if the sex was amazing,” Mingyu added, making you smile at him. 
“Okay, shall we sort out an appointment or what?” You asked, making Mingyu smile sheepishly at you. 
“I kind of already sorted a slot out for us. They open early. They got us a slot today at 4 pm. Is that okay?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded at him. 
“Should I take it as a good sign that you’re so eager to fix us? Or a bad sign that you’re so ready to vent about me?” You joked, making Mingyu pout at you. 
“A good sign; I love you so much, and I’ll be damned if I let you go without a fight,” Mingyu answered. 
“Let me go?” You repeated.
“I mean if you want out and realise you deserve better after all this, I guess I’ll let you go,” Mingyu mumbled, unable to look at you. His answering, albeit genuine, made you scoff at him. 
“Wow, nice to see your resignation already,” you muttered, making Mingyu sigh deeply. 
“I’m not giving up, but tell me you don’t already have one foot out the door?” Mingyu asked, making you baulk at him. 
“Why would you even think that?” You asked, and Mingyu rolled his eyes at you, letting out a humourless chuckle. 
“You weren’t here, but a gift hamper did arrive from your boss, and while I never snoop, the card was stuck on the hamper. It was a card nudging you to take the plunge and be a manager. Across the world. Might I add? When were you going to tell me?” Mingyu asked, and you sighed. 
“You said you didn’t want to hear about work at home, remember?” You fired back, and Mingyu groaned. 
“I told you that five months ago when I had just lost my job, I wanted you to be able to speak to me. I don’t want surprises like that,” Mingyu gritted, and you sighed. 
“So I’m meant to be able to read your mind?” You asked, and Mingyu shook his head. 
“It’d be so much easier, wouldn’t it? You never give me a warning ever. You just fucking blindside me, you did this with this apartment, and you did it with this possible promotion,” Mingyu fumed, making you blink at him. 
“Look, can we just save this for the therapist?” Mingyu said, inhaling deeply, and you nodded at him, unable to speak. 
The apartment? You thought to yourself. Mingyu was elated when you brandished the new keys three years ago. Just how much had he held in, and for how long? 
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You were ignoring Mingyu for the rest of the day. Even when he came to get you to go to the therapist’s office, you glared at him, ignoring his outstretched hand, walked past him to your car and waited impatiently for him to get in so you could drive to the therapist’s office. 
“Can you at least wait for me to put my seatbelt on? Before you start driving?” Mingyu asked sarcastically, annoyance lacing his words. 
“Not my fault you’re fucking slow,” you bit back. You weren’t even sure what you were mad about, the fact that the gift ambushed him and didn’t give you a chance to explain. You felt guilty, and instead of speaking to him about that, you thought it’d be best to mask your hurt with insults. 
“So, fucking slow,” Mingyu muttered, buckling himself in, and you started to drive once he was safely fastened. 
“So, fucking slow, I’m always behind, aren’t I? I never know what you’re up to, or maybe that’s because you’re too fast,” Mingyu spat out in annoyance. 
“I waited for you to put your seatbelt on, right?” You retorted weakly, making Mingyu scoff at you. 
“That’s the only time you’ve waited for me, and if killing me wasn’t a crime, then I’m sure you would have driven off without a care for me,” Mingyu fumed, making you cower in your seat.
Is that what he thought of you? 
You tried not to let it show. You tried not to let the hurt show, but you couldn’t hold it in once you were in the parking lot of the therapist’s office. 
“We can get out, you know?” Mingyu sassed, earning a choked sob from you. 
“Is that what you think of me? I’m so busy trying to move ahead that I’d leave you for dead?” You asked, staring at Mingyu; your eyes blurred with tears, and your heart ached at Mingyu’s words. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry, I just fuck. I got frustrated,” Mingyu started to say, earning a glare from you.
“I get frustrated too, and you know, especially with you and our situation, but I have never once wished that you were dead. I wish we’d stop fighting and we were on the same page, sure, but dead? Fuck you, Mingyu,” you cried out, making Mingyu frown as he reached over to undo your seatbelt and pulled you across the console onto his lap. 
“I hate that you even could think of that. How could you think I would even want you dead?” You asked, smacking your fists childishly against his chest, making him pout as he took your hands into his. 
“I’m sorry, I am. I did misspeak. In some shitty way, I feel like if you do ever leave me, then it sure as shit will feel like death,” Mingyu admitted making you frown. 
“Why are you so hell-bent on the idea that I will leave you?” You asked, annoyed at his rhetoric, that you’d leave him. 
“I don’t know. After last night, the way you lost it, I don’t blame you, but damn, can you blame me. As I said, the way you reacted last night hurt. While I’m not shocked, I can’t deny that it hurt, but that wasn’t an excuse for what I said,” Mingyu answered, and you nodded at him. 
“You’re damn right it wasn’t,” you choked out, making Mingyu smile softly at you. 
“How’s this when the therapist asks what my downfalls are? I’ll explain that I’m not great at filtering my thoughts?” Mingyu offered, cradling your face, and you pouted, nodding at him. 
“No, that’s unnecessary, just don’t say stupid shit like that,” you pouted, and Mingyu nodded, kissing your lips. 
“I won’t, I promise. Now shall we go before someone thinks that we’re fucking in the car?” Mingyu asked, a smile creeping onto his handsome face, and you nodded, giggling at him. 
“Would that be so bad?” You teased, and Mingyu smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss. 
“No, it wouldn’t, but our appointment is in ten minutes, so shall we?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, placing a final kiss on his lips. 
“Let’s go,” Mingyu said, sneaking another kiss as you finally climbed out of the car. 
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“Please make yourselves comfortable, and Doctor Kwan will be out to see you both in a minute,” the receptionist at the therapist’s office instructed you and Mingyu, and you both nodded before plopping onto the sofa. 
“This is so oddly comforting. I mean, the room, I thought it’d be like a doctor’s office, but it has a sofa and tissues and flowers on the wall,” you rambled nervously. 
“Yeah, I guess therapists want you to be comfortable, especially when you’re about to be very vulnerable for them,” Mingyu offered lamely, unable to come up with a proper answer. You saw him fidgeting and took his hands in yours. 
“Breathe. We’re here to work on ourselves. We’re going to be okay,” you said calmly, not entirely sure if what you said was a lie, but right now, you didn’t care if you had to lie to him. He was too jumpy.
“Mr & Mrs Kim, please accept my apologies. I just wanted to prepare the notes before we begin our session,” Dr. Kwan said as he sat across you two. 
“Well, you might want to apologise again. We aren’t married,” Mingyu said with a smile, but his voice had no real humour. You were prepared to ignore Mingyu’s quip until you saw him shoot a glare in your direction. 
“Oh, but we would have been, but tell me, Dr Kwan, am I meant to say yes when someone tosses a ring at me?” You shot back, and Mingyu scoffed, letting go of your hand and sinking into the couch. 
“We need your help because nothing I do is ever enough for her,” Mingyu spat out, making you groan. 
“Well, good to know what I’m walking into, Mr Kim. I should tell you that I most certainly knew you weren’t married. Often, couples hide their pain from their therapists, pretend it’s all good, and then tear each other apart behind closed doors. It was, hmm, call it a trick? This way, I can understand how temperamental and fragile this situation and I can provide and facilitate a safe space for you, too,” Dr Kwan explained, making Mingyu glare at him. 
“So, you made me insult my girlfriend for science?” Mingyu mocked, and you sighed. 
“No, he just pushed a button that I’d push, and you’d do the same behind closed doors, too, so instead of embarrassing me further, can you please shut up and let him work?” You asked curtly.  
“Okay, let me set a few ground rules before I get to work,” Dr Kwan started to say as Mingyu shot you a sad look. You immediately felt bad for snapping at him, but you couldn’t forget how ridiculous he was. 
 “Y/N, is it okay to address you by your first name?” Dr Kwan asked. You nodded.
“Mr Kim, is it okay to address you as Mingyu?” Dr Kwan asked, looking at Mingyu, and he hummed in response. 
“Perfect,” Dr Kwan said, leaning back. 
“As I was saying, rules. While I’m giving you guys a safe space to work things through, you must also be committed to ensuring this space stays safe. I appreciate anger, annoyance and frustration, but snarky, underhanded digs will not be tolerated or helped. Telling the other to shut up won’t help either. You can disagree and provide your perspective, but you will not interrupt or ignore each other and talk over one another. Can we agree to that?” Dr Kwan asked, staring at you both, and you nodded immediately.
“Good, now, let’s start. What made you fall in love with Mingyu?” Dr Kwan asked, immediately jumping into the session. You found it a little unorthodox but liked that he didn’t waste time with small talk. 
“We started dating in high school, months before graduation. He was a kind guy, and while he could have fit the bill of a stereotypical jock, he didn’t. He was humble, kind and grounded. I guess he was a jock with a heart,” you smiled softly, recalling that Mingyu was indeed just that. 
“He and I were paired up for a project, and I guess after we got our grades, I gave him a big hug, and somehow that hug turned into a kiss, and I guess, ten years later, here we are, in therapy,” your sweet tone fading and turning into a biter tone as you looked at the floor. 
“See, this is what she does, thinks of something nice and then fucks it up by following it up with some realistic bullshit. You were doing so well just reminiscing, and you couldn’t just stick to it?” Mingyu asked, his voice rising. 
“Another rule, no yelling,” Dr Kwan warned, making Mingyu groan. 
“She never lets us be happy long enough. She must always bring up something that kills the moment,” Mingyu added bitterly. 
“Then why are you with me if I’m such a killjoy?” you taunted, making Mingyu wipe away a tear. 
“Because I fucking love you because you’re so amazing and sure you’re persistent. The need to always think about the future is a pain. But I’m okay with it because I assumed I was part of that future, but I’m not sure if I still am recently,” Mingyu mumbled, making you groan. 
“You two need to hit reset. There’s a lot here, I want to see you both separately and together, but I need you two to try something for now. Throughout therapy, we will uncover a lot, a lot of love that you two have for each other, but we will also uncover a lot of pain and hurt, and I don’t want either of you not to have a space to cry it out, so can I suggest that for the next three months, we try something?” Dr Kwan offered, and you both nodded. 
“Anything to save us,” Mingyu mumbled, and you scooched over closer to him, placing your hand on his thigh, making him smile sweetly at you. 
“Ten years is a long time, and sometimes, you become accustomed to each other, which is wonderful, but it also means you hold in a lot. Anger, resentment and hurt, but because you’ve been together so long, you often suppress these emotions and hope they’ll go away, but they don’t. Instead, they linger like bad perfume, and it gets too much, and that’s where you two are now. I can see you are trying your best to hold onto the relationship, but you’re also scared, to be honest, for fear that it’ll go away, so here’s what I suggest,” Dr Kwan explained, pausing to take a sip of his water. 
“So, here’s what I propose, separate bedrooms for the next three months. You two can talk and kiss and be cuddly, but no sex because sex, as good as it may be, undoes a lot of the work, so if you two slip up, I won’t be mad, but it’s more work on your end. This process will take a lot out of you both, therapy, and it’s going to be new adjusting to a new dynamic, but it’s to allow you both a safe space to vent and to be you two have been with each other you’ve lost yourselves along the way, it’s time to find what you two are as individuals before you two can be a couple again,”
 “We never broke up. You know that, right?” Mingyu said, glaring at Dr. Kwan. 
“I’m aware, but you two are also just holding on, and I’m guessing that’s not enough?” Dr Kwan challenged, and Mingyu huffed out. 
“So, what we move out? Or one of us does?” Mingyu asked, continuing to glare at Dr. Kwan. 
“We have three bedrooms; we can just separate our stuff. We can each move into one of them for now,” you suggested, placing a hand on Mingyu’s thigh and making him look at you with sad eyes. 
“I just, I get that this is therapy, but why does it feel like you’re making us break up before we even have a chance,” Mingyu answered sadly, making you smile softly at him. 
“I’m telling you two to hit reset. You both need a fresh start, not away from each other, but you two need a break,” Dr Kwan answered softly, and Mingyu sighed, nodding. 
 “It’s three months, and we will evaluate every week. Is that good?” Dr. Kwan asked, and you nodded, noticing that Mingyu nodded slowly. 
“Three months, and we’ll be, okay?” Mingyu asked, turning to face you. 
“Yeah, we will,” you answered, unsure if you two would be, but you had to try.  
You had to try for him. 
For you.  ~~ I’m Not Your Problem Anymore  ~~
“So, that went well?” Mingyu said slowly, making you roll your eyes at his words as you kept driving. 
“The digs, the underhanded comments, you think that went well?” You asked, and Mingyu frowned. 
“You weren’t exactly a saint either,” Mingyu mumbled, and you sighed deeply. 
“Can we deal with this once we get home? I don’t fancy fighting while I’m driving,” you asked, and Mingyu hummed in response as he stared out the window, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. 
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“Talk,” Mingyu practically demanded the minute you shut the front door behind you. 
“Why the hell are you speaking to me like that?” You asked, and Mingyu groaned as he kicked off his shoes before sitting on the couch. 
 “You said some shitty things, and while I admit so did I, you acted like a child,” you started to say, stopping when you saw Mingyu’s hardened expression. 
“What is it with you calling me a child? May I remind you that we’re the same age?” Mingyu asked, glaring at you. 
“Then act like a fucking adult, you don’t talk, you lash out, and you just hope that love fixes everything, but it doesn’t. It’s not enough to keep two people together when they’re breaking apart,” you exclaimed, frustrated at yourself for being unable to maintain your calm and at him for never being realistic. 
“You always said that love will keep us together, that our love was stronger than anything out there. What happened to that girl? What happened to the girl who made wishes upon stars, kissed me goodnight, and hugged me whenever I was down? I fell in love with her,” Mingyu lamented, making your heart drop. 
“So, you don’t love me anymore?” You whispered, afraid of his answer. 
“I do, my love, but I’m just not sure you do,” Mingyu said, moving to wipe away a tear that fell down your cheek. 
“Why do you keep suggesting that?” You asked, shrugging his touch off, making him pout. 
“Well, you just moved away from my touch, in general, over, I don’t know, the last two years you’ve been in the future, and you’ve left me in the dust; you left me all alone. I mean, hell, I was the happiest when you told me you wanted to move in with me, but you didn’t even bother asking me to view a place. You just got the keys and showed up at my doorstep. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but it always felt like you’d cut me out of the process whenever you could,” Mingyu explained, his eyes getting glossy. 
“I know you wouldn’t intentionally make me feel unwanted, but that’s what it felt like. I felt like an understudy, waiting in the wings for you to consider my opinion,” Mingyu said. 
“I didn’t know,” you said lamely, and Mingyu nodded. 
“You wouldn’t, I never told you, and you’re not a mind reader, nor do I expect you to be. It would have been nice to know that you still cared for me even if everything went bad. Hell, the night I lost my job, you just kissed me and told me it’d be alright, and I get it, it’s a hard thing to comfort someone about, but my love, you didn’t even try, and granted, I’m sure there have been moments where I haven’t done my bit. Still, we were the couple that annoyed others with how mushy we were and how much we adored each other. Now it just feels like we tolerate each other,” Mingyu finished standing up, and you stood up and reached for his wrist, making him turn around to look at you. 
“Can you not walk away?” You asked, not a shred of anger in your voice. You just wanted to hear him. 
“I’m not. I am, however, getting some wine because I think we’ll need it,” Mingyu replied, pulling you into his chest and placing the softest kiss on your forehead. 
“Okay, so let’s talk,” you said, not wasting a second as Mingyu returned to the couch with two glasses of wine. 
“You waste no time, do you?” Mingyu asked, chuckling, and you shrugged. 
“I’d rather fix us sooner than later,” you commented, and Mingyu shrugged.
“Don’t good things take time? Besides, this isn’t something you can rush; didn’t you always tell me that patience is a virtue and that all good things take time?” Mingyu mumbled as he sipped his wine, making you glare at him. 
“What is with you and reminding me of everything I once did? Is that what you want? The ‘old’ me? The one you fell in love with ten years ago?” You snapped, making Mingyu frown. 
“You keep missing the point, I don’t yearn for the ‘old’ you, but I yearn for your love. It just seems like you’re putting up with me. I only remember the ‘old’ you because no matter how much we fought, I at least knew that you loved me,” Mingyu mumbled, making you frown at him. 
“Don’t fix it by saying that you love me. I know you do, but I wonder if you’re still in love me because that’s a big difference. I mean, some I know you do, but other days I feel like I’m watching you, unsure if I fit anywhere in your life, but what scares me most is that I’m not so sure I fit in your heart any longer,” Mingyu admitted taking a deep breath, before looking at you with teary eyes. 
“Can you tell me when I’ve hurt you? I’m sure it must have been many times with how you feel, but maybe the most recent example?” You asked, unsure how to respond to the fact that Mingyu poured his heart out to you, and all you could do was make him relive a moment where you had hurt him. 
“Not hearing about the promotion, that sucked, like I had to find out because of a present. Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingyu asked, nothing but hurt and genuine curiosity etching his features. 
“I guess when you told me you didn’t want to hear about work, I just stopped telling you. I didn’t want to make you upset,” you admitted lamely. 
“My love, I got over being let go. If I’m not wrong, I said that once, and a month later, I remember being fine and asking you to tell me about work and the hardships or the bad days at work, but you never did. You decided you wouldn’t share that part of your life with me. While I can understand why you thought I would continue holding a grudge, do you think I’d hold it until it broke us in two?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 
“Would you have taken the job?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 
“I don’t know,” you admitted, and Mingyu nodded at you. 
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m over it, and if it’s something that’s in the past, I’m okay never to bring it up again,” Mingyu offered, and you smiled at him. 
“I’d like that a lot,” you answered. 
“I acted out of line with what I said in the car, and you’re right. I did act like a kid at the therapist’s office, but it’s just when it comes to the idea of possibly even losing you? Then my ability to think straight and act rationally goes to shit because there’s nothing rational about love, but you find that balance, and I’m willing to work on myself but wait for me? While I try and catch up?” Mingyu asked, making your lips tremble, and your tears fall. 
“I think for so long,” you started to say, pausing to wipe your tears away. 
“For so long, I thought you didn’t care. I thought you got comfortable, wanted to leave, or be comfortable enough to stay but not be with me. So I kept pushing on with my life because I didn’t think you wanted me to be in your future,” you admitted, staring into the wine glass. 
“Y/N, you and I. I guess we’ve both been living in different tenses. I’ve been too busy reminiscing our past, and you’ve been running into the future. It’s left our present a fucking shit show,” Mingyu observed, making you giggle at his description. 
“Let’s try? I want you to have the most amazing future, but can I ask you to slow down? Ever so slightly? To let me find my footing. I want to catch up with you so we can have a future. Together?” Mingyu asked, pulling you closer to him. 
“I can, and I’m sorry,” you apologised, and Mingyu shook his head. 
“It’s okay, from here on out, what we’ve both done, it’s forgotten and forgiven these next three months. Let us make a real go at this? At fixing us?” Mingyu asked, and you smiled in agreement. 
Mingyu grinned, pulling you into the softest kiss ever. 
“I know we are meant to separate rooms and all that, but can I just have you in my arms tonight?” Mingyu asked, kissing your forehead, and you nodded at him. 
You agreed because you didn’t know what the next three months would bring about, so for tonight, you just wanted to lay in his arms and forget the hurt and the reality because you’d never admit it like Mingyu would. Still, the thought of living in a world where he was no longer yours was enough to make you break your heart into a million pieces. 
“We’ll be okay,” you mumbled into Mingyu’s chest as he held you, and he responded with a kiss on your forehead. 
You frowned into the embrace. You just hoped it would come true if you said something repeatedly. 
If you kept saying that you and Mingyu would be okay, you would be.  ~~ Balancing on Breaking Branches ~~
“Moving day, huh?” Mingyu joked, making you grin slightly at him. 
“Barely, we’re just diving up rooms and our stuff. It’s just three months,” you answered as you walked over to your closet and mentally sorted out what articles you wanted to take.
“Actually, you can just stay in this room. Besides, I don’t have much stuff anyway, just some clothes and my computer has always been in a separate room,” Mingyu offered, and you smiled at him. 
“Thanks, it’d be a nightmare if you made me move all my things out,” you laughed, making Mingyu smile. 
“Besides, it’s all temporary, three months, and I’m back to cuddling you every night and sleeping,” Mingyu smiled. 
“What are you smiling about?” You asked Mingyu as he grinned to himself, looking around the room. 
“Just kind of thinking how we broke into this room and every other room and surface in this apartment,” Mingyu said casually, a blush creeping onto his face as he recalled the memories, making you smile shyly. 
“Sex in every corner of the house. I still can’t believe we did it in a storage closet, of all things,” you recalled, smiling but shaking your head at how you and Mingyu had really come through on the idea of breaking into every part of the house. 
“But the sex was pretty good, wasn’t it? A tighter space meant that I had to hold you closer to me and fuck you harder,” Mingyu teased, his voice low, dangerous and teasing. 
“Mingyu,” you warned, unable to keep the smile off your face, as you moved away from the closet and sat on the bed. 
“Besides, I’m just recalling fond memories, especially when we have a sex ban placed on us for three months,” Mingyu explained with a pout, making you smile. 
“Anyways, do you know where I keep my phone charger? I usually use yours, so,” Mingyu trailed off, and you nodded at him, knowing that he never bothered because you were always there, and it just wouldn’t be the same for the next three months. 
“Yeah, this drawer,” you gestured to the bedside table beside you. Mingyu nodded, rummaging through the drawer, and you noticed he kept searching for a while. 
“Did you not find your charger?” You asked, turning to face him, your eyes widening when you saw what he held in his hand. 
“Mingyu,” you started to say, making him smirk at you.
“Is that what I think it is?” Mingyu asked, and you groaned, cursing yourself. Mingyu walked over and grabbed the device. 
“A vibrator in plain sight?” Mingyu teased.
 “Can you give it back?” You groaned, and Mingyu grinned at you.
“Is this the one we bought and took with us on our trip to Bali? Where you couldn’t get enough of me?” You gulped, and you felt your mouth water.
“Not my fault you were shirtless for the entire trip. It’s hard to behave when you look like that,” you huffed out as Mingyu walked back to the bed with the vibrator in his hand. 
“So I’m hot?” Mingyu asked with a smirk. 
“You know you are,” you mumbled, and you knew you were about to undo all the therapist’s work with your one movement, but you couldn’t help yourself. 
Not when Mingyu was looking at you like that, wetting his lips as he caressed the vibrator in his hand. 
“Oh, do I?” Mingyu asked, making you glare. 
Instead of answering, you grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him into you. Mingyu pulled you into a kiss and pushed you down, one hand moving to your jeans and undoing them. 
You kicked off your jeans and panties, and Mingyu’s knuckles met with your wet folds.
“You’re soaking wet,” Mingyu muttered against your lips, and you nodded.
“Wait,” Mingyu instructed as he pulled your shirt off, 
“Beautiful,” he praised as he took in your nude state. 
“Pretty,” Mingyu muttered, moving his mouth along your body as he ran the vibrator along your folds. 
“Fuck,” you hissed as the cold metal touched your swollen cunt. Mingyu pushed two fingers into you and switched on the vibrator. You felt your eyes roll back as he started thrusting his fingers in and out of you. While the vibrator constantly pulsated against your clit.
 “Fucking hell,” you groaned, grabbing his muscular forearm. 
“Good girl, you take my fingers so well,” Mingyu moaned, praising you as you fell apart under his touch. You let out whimpers, biting your lips to stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, and Mingyu smirked at you, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to his lips. 
“Can’t we just, I guess, call that goodbye sex? Or something,” Mingyu asked as he stared at your fucked out expression.
“We could, but I think we need to tell our therapist,” you breathed, making him pout, “as good as that felt, we just took a few steps back,” you added, making Mingyu sigh as he leaned over to kiss you. 
“Three months, and we’ll be okay,” Mingyu claimed before placing another kiss on your lips. 
“This is just a little mistake. You wanted to honour his wish, but you also knew that lying would do you two no good. No need to tell the therapist,” Mingyu repeated, making you nod slowly at him. 
So, you did what was right. 
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“Okay, Y/N, what you did wasn’t odd or unusual. Maybe couples slip up, especially when it comes to sex and trying not to have it, and I get it. You two have been together for ages. Giving up sex isn’t easy, nor exactly is it meant to be,” Dr Kwan clarified, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were undoing everything. 
“You’re human. It’s normal to slip up, but being honest and working from that is important,” Dr Kwan added. You nodded. 
“Well, still, I’m sorry,” you apologised, making Mingyu scoff. 
“You kissed me; may I remind you that? So, stop acting like you’re wronged or something. You make me sound like a dick,” Mingyu spat out, and you were about to respond when Dr. Kwan cleared his throat, stopping you. 
“Well, Mingyu, you might have just given us the material for our first session. When do you two think it all went wrong? Between you both? Mingyu, I’d like to hear from you, and then you, Y/N,” Dr. Kwan suggested.
“Y/N’s been gifted, so good at everything she does, and I guess I’ve gone with the flow, but being an adult in this unforgiving world, that’s not enough. Not even, and it seemed like every time she was successful or achieved something, it made me feel smaller and like I wasn’t enough,” Mingyu rambled, making you look at him. 
“I know she never did it on purpose, but that’s how I felt, and I guess I stopped trying to be better for her because it always seemed like she was too far away for me to catch up to, and so I was just happy being in her life, as a spectator,” Mingyu finished letting out a deep exhale. 
“I don’t begrudge her for succeeding. I wished that sometimes she could look away from the blinding lights of success to notice me, just for a second at least,” Mingyu added, shrugging. 
“Did you ever wish for her success to go away?” Dr. Kwan asked, and Mingyu shook his head. 
“Never, I only wished that maybe I could do half of what she did, maybe then I’d be enough for her, but I know that’s not what she ever thought, but I internalised her success as a sign of my failures,” Mingyu answered.
“Y/N, is there anything you’d like to add?” Dr. Kwan asked. 
“I don’t know what to say. I didn’t realise he felt like that,” you answered lamely. 
You didn’t realise that Mingyu felt the way he did. He was always so guarded with his response and just quiet and silently supported you no matter what you did.
“I never told her to be fair,” Mingyu interjected, and you sighed at him. 
“I can’t read your mind. How do you expect me to understand if you don’t tell me something?” You asked, and Mingyu stared at you in disbelief. 
“The way I read your mind about a proposal?” Mingyu asked, and you groaned. 
“Okay, you two, we need to hit pause. There’s too much here to not cause a massive fight,” Dr. Kwan said, interrupting you two. 
“She didn’t even tell me that she got an opportunity for a promotion or anything. She keeps so much to herself and then gets mad when I can’t read her mind,” Mingyu added, and you sat in annoyance, but you stayed quiet, knowing that he wasn’t wrong with his judgements. 
“I lost my job five months ago, and since then, she’s never really told me about her success and in her defence, I did tell her not to talk about it, but I know that after a week or so, I told her that it was okay, but she just kept everything to herself,” Mingyu added. 
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you started to say, turning to face Mingyu.
“I know you said it was okay, but you always put others before you, and I didn’t want to be another reason for you to suppress how you felt,” you explained, placing your hand on his, and he responded in kind, moving his hand to lace them with yours. 
“I see that love is not lost between you two. You need to figure out how to communicate. In a relationship as long as yours, it’s easy to assume that the other party knows or should know. Still, the truth is, all the familiarity and knowledge in the world is never enough to predict how humans will behave,” Dr. Kwan said wisely. 
“I went to visit my mum; the night before, we had a huge fight which led us here; she kept pushing and asking if something was wrong with us because it had been ten years, and there was no proposal. So, I kept trying to diffuse the situation, but unfortunately, her words sowed a seed of insecurity in me. I lost it and snapped at Mingyu, which caused him to reveal the fact that he was going to, in fact, propose to me that night,” you rambled, explaining what you thought was the final breaking point. 
“I see, Y/N. Mingyu, is being married something you two have always wanted to be? Or is that something that you two have never discussed?” Dr. Kwan asked. 
“We discussed it, I think, after our first year together. Mingyu brought it up,” you recalled, smiling at you fondly and starting to explain the memory.  ~~
Nine years ago
“In my defence, their vows were touching, and that’s why I ended up crying like a baby,” Mingyu defended, making you laugh as you wiped his teary eyes and kissed his red nose. 
You both were in the powder room, helping Mingyu look more presentable after he cried his eyes out at your cousin and her husband exchanging their vows. 
“But I also started to imagine, what if it was us up there? One day? Look, I always found weddings boring in the past because I was like fuck this. I’m always watching other people find their ‘happily ever after,’ but I have wanted that for us since you came into my life. Our happily ever after,” Mingyu declared, making you smile at him, your eyes holding but love and fondness for your boyfriend.
“Okay, I know we’re only 19 and legit, maybe way too young to decide the future now, but I know this for sure, regardless of when that moment happens. I just know that there is no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with; only you complete me, and a life without you, well shit, that’s just miserable, isn’t it?” Mingyu spoke, making you swoon at him. 
“How’d I get so lucky?” You asked as you pulled him into a soft kiss, making him smile into the kiss. 
“I think it’s me. I’m the lucky one,” Mingyu mused. 
“How about we’re both lucky?” You added, and Mingyu smiled. 
“Lucky to have found a love like this; yeah, we’re pretty fucking lucky,” Mingyu agreed as he pulled you into another kiss. 
~~
“Huh?” You asked as you felt Mingyu’s fingers on your face and realised he was wiping away your tears. 
“It was so much easier, and I just want that back,” you cried, and Mingyu, out of instinct, moved closer, pulling you in closer to him. 
“Y/N, you two were younger, and the world is kinder to two kids in love than adults in love. Nothing like taxes, societal expectations, or work threatens the tenderness and beauty of love. Still, with patience and dedication to fix the relationship, you can get through it, and it doesn’t seem like Mingyu wants anything else but the same thing as you,” Dr Kwan explained, making you smile through the tears and placing a kiss to Mingyu’s cheek, making him blush. 
“I’ll schedule you two for a week later, but let’s keep up the same routine. No sex and kisses are fine, but keep it to that. When you two filled out the form, I think you mentioned that your first date was at a dive bar? Why don’t you two, over the weekend, go to one, not as a date, but go and maybe rekindle the memories, remind yourselves that the pain of therapy is worth it,” Dr. Kwan suggested, and you both nodded. 
“We can do that,” Mingyu answered, and you smiled at him. 
Maybe this is why you two needed someone to guide you both through all the pain, and today felt like a breakthrough, and perhaps that’s what you both just needed, someone to help you get through the shitty parts to get to the good part. 
You two weren’t broken but bent, and someone needed to straighten you out. 
“We can. We can be okay again,” you mumbled, but you knew Mingyu heard it with the way he squeezed your hand softly. 
“We will,” he whispered in your ear. 
~~ Never Learned to Read My Mind ~~
You and Mingyu really did try hard. The kisses were kept to a minimum, almost so much that Mingyu got frustrated with you. He eventually pouted enough one evening. It ended up in you two having a thirty-minute make-out session. 
“We shouldn’t,” you mumbled as you continued to kiss him. 
“See, you say that, but you’re kissing me,” Mingyu replied, moving his lips away to speak, only to place them back on yours within a second.
“Mingyu,” you warned, pulling away and making him sigh at you. 
“Fine, but can you blame me? This is the first time you and I have spoken and kissed in two weeks, and no, that goodnight kiss three nights ago doesn’t count. I just get that Dr. Kwan said we should try to find ourselves and all that, but it feels like you’re acting like we’ve already broken up or something,” Mingyu admitted, frowning. 
“I’m giving us space to grow,” you defended, and Mingyu nodded. 
“I get that, but shouldn’t it foster an environment of encouragement? The space you’ve created is cold and uninviting, like hell. Your room door is always closed,” Mingyu added, making you pull away from his touch and sit next to him instead of on him. 
“I’m working, Mingyu. I don’t have as much free time as you, so forgive me if I want some peace and quiet while I work,” you sassed, and Mingyu pouted. 
“Free time? You mean unemployed?” Mingyu joked, but you glared at him. 
“Stop putting words in my mouth. You know that’s not what I meant to say,” you huffed, and Mingyu nodded. 
“Okay, forget it. I only say that because I wanted to show you something the other day, and your door was closed,” Mingyu explained, and you nodded at him. 
“So, show me now?” You suggested, and Mingyu nodded, pulling up yet another photo he took of a cake that served as inspiration–he’d been taking pictures of cakes, cookies and many other baked goods for the last few months, telling you it was for something unique. Still, to you, it just seemed like he was building up his ‘cakes I like’ Pinterest board.
“See?” Mingyu asked excitedly.
“What am I meant to be seeing? Another cake? All you do is take pictures of the cake. Where is this going?”
“You could have bothered to ask more about it instead of dismissing it entirely. I don’t dismiss things that excite you,” Mingyu mumbled. 
“Fine, show me,” you asked, and Mingyu shook his head at you. 
“No, because you’re asking because you feel bad, not because you care, forget it. You’re right it’s just cake. How would you notice? How would you notice when you haven’t noticed anything about me in the last few months?” Mingyu spoke, making you groan in frustration. 
“Sorry, that was unnecessary. Look after work tomorrow. I made reservations at a dive bar for us, I’ll send you a location, and you can head over after work?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded at him. 
“Night,” Mingyu mumbled, kissing your cheek as he got up and sulked as he walked to his room. 
You felt terrible. Since when did you stop caring about the little things, especially him? He was always doing much more, but you didn’t know why. It never felt like it was enough for you. 
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“Hey!” Mingyu greeted you the following evening as you approached him at the dive bar. 
“This place is quite nice,” you commented, and Mingyu nodded. 
“Are you drinking?” Mingyu asked, and you shook your head. 
“I drove here,” you replied, and Mingyu pouted. 
“Let me drive and have a drink. I have a scratchy throat, so I can’t really drink,” Mingyu offered, and you looked at him in shock. 
“When did you get a cold?” You asked, had you really been so unkind and caring to not even ask your boyfriend if he was unwell. 
“Nah, just a tickle, don’t worry, I got meds, and I’m on the mend,” Mingyu added, ushering you away, and you frowned at him but decided against pushing further. 
You were glad you were tipsy, but you weren’t exactly happy at the scene unfolding in front of you an hour later. 
A random girl decided to approach Mingyu to gush about how handsome he was and how incredible his biceps were and even went so far as to trace his arms, and that was it: you saw red. 
You hated how he didn’t stop her, either. Instead, he giggled and flexed a bit more.
“Miss, do you always with other people’s boyfriends?” You spat out, and the girl stepped back in fear upon hearing the venom in your voice. 
“No, oh my god, I’m so sorry. You just didn’t look like you were his girlfriend. You just sat there, far away from him, and you two barely spoke, so I thought it was okay to appreciate it, but I’m so sorry,” the girl apologised, but you couldn’t help your anger. 
“So even then, you just flirt with anyone you see?” You asked, embarrassing the girl, and Mingyu turned to face you with a hardened expression, apologising to the girl first. 
“What the hell was that?” Mingyu 
“Home, now,” you answered, and Mingyu sighed as he paid for the bill while you stormed out of the bar. 
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You stormed into the house, and Mingyu followed you into your room. You saw red. There was no other colour in the world, only red. You couldn’t believe Mingyu giggled and smiled at the girl like he did. 
The way he would with you.
“That was so uncalled for,” Mingyu started to say, making you whip your head to look at him. Your eyes were red and watery, and Mingyu immediately wanted to put the fight to bed and hold you in his arms. 
Mingyu mentally slapped himself, but all he did was laugh and smile at the girl. She complimented him, and for a second, he lost his mind and indulged because it had been so long since he felt good about himself. So long since someone called him handsome, and hell, you stopped acting like you were interested in him, but it was wrong and stupid, and he caused you to cry. 
“Right, me telling a girl to back off my man is wrong and pushing her away was uncalled for? Did you like it then? The way her tits pressed up against your chest. Is that why you didn’t pull away when she wrapped her arm around yours? Would you have backed away if I didn’t push her away, or would you have gone home with her?” You accused, ranting and firing away accusations at Mingyu, who paused to frown at you, but he knew he didn’t have a reason to defend himself. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t stop her, but I would have never cheated. I just got caught up in the attention, it has been so long since you ever showed me any affection, and I liked it, thinking that, oh, I don’t know, at least I’m not chopped fucking liver,” Mingyu fired back, making you shrink. 
“You couldn’t tell me that? You had to get some leggy chick to get your validation?” You asked, your voice trembling. 
“You don’t make it easy to speak to you. You’ve taken this ‘break’ so seriously that I feel like you’re just practising for the real thing. Last week, I got a new cookbook, and. In the past, you’d always be excited to see if I could replicate any recipes, but now? You didn’t even care to see it. I got a new shirt for our date night, and you didn’t compliment me. I’m not saying I need to be coddled, but you act like my presence is a bother, so forgive me if I wanted to seek out someone’s compliments because you know what? I can’t recall the last time you ever said I was good at anything,” Mingyu scoffed, making you standstill. 
“You have so many cookbooks; how is it different from the dozens you have? How was I meant to notice just one?” You asked, and Mingyu stared at you. 
“That’s not the point. Whenever I want to share anything with you, you act like it’s the biggest inconvenience or you don’t care. Either way, it doesn’t make me feel good about myself,” Mingyu sputtered out, his anger bubbling, and he knew he had to stop this fight before he said something he regretted. 
“Look, we’ve both had a lot to drink. Maybe we should talk about this later?” Mingyu offered, as he tried to guide you to the bed, to help you sleep so you wouldn’t continue this drunken rant. 
“So, you entertained her because she gave you attention, or was she prettier?” You asked, immediately feeling your eyes well up. You tried not to break in front of him. He was the one flirting with another woman, not you, but you couldn’t help how insecure it all made you. 
Was he done with you? Was this his subtle way of telling you he wouldn’t care?
“Hey, no, don’t you dare,” Mingyu interrupted your thoughts as he cradled your face. 
“No one is more perfect than you. I’m sorry for giving in to the attention. No matter how bad we are, it’s not an excuse,” Mingyu explained as he wiped away the tears that fell down his face. 
“But she noticed what I didn’t. Maybe deep down, that’s all you want, and I wish I were better for you,” you replied tearfully, making Mingyu’s heart ache with how you tore yourself apart. 
“Mingyu!” You squeaked when you felt him carry you and sit on the bed. 
“Take this off,” you mumbled, pointing to his shirt, and you stared at him for a second as he peeled his shirt off. 
You leaned down to kiss his shoulder, then another, until you reached his neck. 
“Y/N, baby, you’re drunk,” Mingyu groaned, trying to suppress a moan, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him as he melted under your touch. 
“We’ve had sex drunk before. I’m pretty sure our first time was when we were both drunk,” you spoke as you moved to kiss his jaw, making him wrap his arms around your waist. 
“Baby,” Mingyu groaned as his hands moved to rest above your ass. 
“Hm?” You asked, looking at him, pausing before your lips connected with his. 
“Let me show you just how much I love you,” Mingyu said, giving in to your touch as he stood up and swiftly placed you on the bed. Mingyu usually would at least take some time peeling your clothes off, unravelling each bit of your body to him, but he couldn’t wait tonight.
“So fucking pretty,” Mingyu praised as he laid between your thighs, your dripping cunt at his face. 
Mingyu slowly moved his finger inside you, “do you want to cum? You’re already clenching my finger so nicely, baby,” Mingyu praised as he rolled his thumb over your clit. You nodded. Mingyu pulled his finger out of you, making you whine. 
Mingyu smirked at you before latching his lips onto your clit. 
“Fuck,” you moaned at the contact.
“Mingyu, wait, stop,” you said, making him sit up immediately. 
“Did I go too far?” Mingyu asked, worrying, lacing his handsome features. You shook your head and moved your foot to his growing bulge. 
“Please fuck me, just I need you,” you begged, and Mingyu wasted no time in peeling off his clothes and positioning himself between your legs and pushing into you, making you moan and hiss at the stretch.
Mingyu placed your legs on either side of his shoulder. He pushed in and fucked you hard and deep. His pace was relentless, and you whimpered at his pace.
“Fuck, Y/N, baby, I’m so sorry, but I need to cum,” Mingyu moaned as he pounded into you.
 “It’s okay, fuck me, Mingyu.”
Mingyu removed your legs from your shoulder and flipped you onto your hands and knees. He pushed into you, his hands gripping your hips. You nearly collapsed at how deep he was hitting inside you.
“Fuck, more, please. Mingyu.” He bit down on your shoulder then kissed and ran his tongue over the area.
 “Fuck, fuck,” Mingyu cursed as he came inside you, moaning as his cum filled you. You felt him flip you over again, his mouth latching onto your cunt again, licking and cleaning you, making you cum again in the process, and you pushed his head away gently as you came again. 
“No more baby, too sensitive,” you moaned, making Mingyu smile sweetly as he placed a soft kiss on your trembling pussy. 
“Wait, stay, please,” you asked, pouting at him, making him smile. 
“I will. I was just going to clean you up properly and give you a shirt. You always get cold after sex,” Mingyu said, making you smile. 
“Stay here,” Mingyu said, kissing your forehead as he headed out to grab you a shirt. He returned with a wet towel and gently pressed it against your throbbing pussy, smirking at your reaction. 
A few minutes later, you were clean and dressed in one of his shirts. 
You were already nodding when Mingyu’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Mingyu moved his hand under your shirt and placed his arm around your waist. 
You moaned softly as he drew small circles into your skin. You gently pushed his arm away and turned to bury your face in his chest, making him smile.
“I love you,” Mingyu mumbled, and you weren’t entirely sure if you heard it, but for a while, you didn’t mind falling asleep in his arms, pretending that you two were alright.
~~ I Think I’ve Seen This Film Before ~~ 
“So, you two had a fight and fixed it with sex,” Dr Kwan summarised, and you and Mingyu looked to the ground. 
“Look, we’re barely three months into this, and while I like that you both love each other enough to be intimate, it seems like you use sex as a coping mechanism to put actual issues on the back burner until they inevitably blow up in your face,” Dr Kwan added. 
“It was a misunderstanding,” Mingyu defended. 
“A series of misunderstandings has brought you two here, and right now, you two are giving in too quickly,” Dr Kwan added. 
“Maybe three months is too long. Can we try a month, no intimacy, nothing, please? Then we can revisit this issue?” Dr Kwan suggested, and you both nodded. 
“Dr Kwan, can I request one thing, though? Can I ask that my lovely girlfriend and I go for one more date, like a proper one, the way we used to be before we tried the full-on ‘break’ thing?” Mingyu asked, and Dr. Kwan nodded. 
“Y/N?” Dr Kwan asked, and you shrugged. 
“I don’t see why not,” you answered, making Mingyu smile, and you noticed how his smile reached his eyes for the first time in so long. 
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“We’re here!” Mingyu announced as he parked the car outside a carnival, helped you out of the car, and held your hand like he always did, complimenting you from home to the carnival gates. 
“It’s crazy empty?” You asked him, and he smiled.
“It opens next week, but I pulled a few strings; I wanted to enjoy this with you and only you,” Mingyu admitted, a blush creeping onto his face, making you smile at him. 
“Shall we?” He asked you nodded. 
He took you to nearly every booth, and with each new game, your smile grew, as did his. You didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with him all over again, but here was proving you wrong. 
“Hey, you okay?” Mingyu waved his hand in front of your face. You were both finally back in the car after a night of kisses, jokes and games, and you smiled at him. 
“Yeah, just thinking,” you answered. 
“About?” Mingyu asked, and you turned to face him, 
“I didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with someone again, but tonight, with you. I think I may have just fallen in love with you all over again,” you admitted, making Mingyu smile as he leaned over to pull you into a kiss. 
“I love you,” Mingyu said as he pulled away from your lips. 
“I love you too,” you answered, making him grin. 
“We’re okay, we’ll be okay,” Mingyu assured as he took your hand and drove home. 
However, when he said it, you didn’t find any comfort in his words because you knew that you were about to hurt him, not because you wanted to but because you had been reflecting and noticed that all this time. 
Mingyu had been bending backwards to become the version of a man you supposedly wanted. Still, all this time, you only complained and poked holes and found flaws; he loved you despite all this. His love for you was too forgiving, too great, and one you didn’t think you deserved any longer. 
So you could only do what you did best, and that was to hurt him before he broke himself trying to fix the both of you.
~~ You Were My Crown  ~~
Mingyu was fuming. Well, not even raging would do justice to how angry he was. It was almost comical. He thought smoke would come out of his ears like a cartoon character. It would have almost been funny. 
Almost. 
However, nothing about this moment or the letter in Mingyu’s hand was funny; none of this was funny. 
“Hey,” you chirped as you walked into Mingyu’s bedroom. He was late for dinner, and your smile dropped when you saw his face and then recognised the paper in his hand. 
“Mingyu,” you started to say and stopped as he held a hand up to stop you. 
“Dear Y/N, you’re incredible, and I want you to consider this position again. You have insights that set you apart from everyone else. I think you could do an amazing job helping us set up our offices in Japan,” Mingyu read out the letter, his voice fading into a whisper at the mention of Japan. 
“I thought we were past this?” Mingyu asked, and you immediately felt yourself become defensive.
“No, I only said that to calm you down, but Mingyu, this is my career,” you protested, making Mingyu scoff. 
“I’d never stop you from pursuing your dreams. I know you’re good at your job. I’d encourage you to take this position, but you lied, and you got this three days before the date night and didn’t bring it up? It fucking hurts, and when I asked you if you were happy, you said yes? But kept this from me? What were you going to do, just fucking pack up and leave me?” Mingyu asked, raising his voice, making you roll your eyes at him. 
“Don’t you dare give me an attitude! You hid this from me. Why?” Mingyu asked, tossing the letter onto the floor. 
“We can still talk about it, and then we can figure out a way with schedules, and maybe I can save and fly out and visit you,” Mingyu rambled, making you bite your lip as you knew what you were about to say next would break him. 
“I accepted the job,” you whispered, but Mingyu heard you clearly. Your voice rang in his ears, four words taunting him, haunting him. 
“Mingyu,” you said, trying to approach him, and he moved away from you. 
“You did what?” Mingyu asked, not wanting an answer. 
“I just didn’t think us doing these three months did us any good, yes we got to get our issues out in the open, but Mingyu, we still broke the main rule, we had sex, we couldn’t be bothered to make it work without fucking,” you defended, each word piercing Mingyu’s heart deeper and deeper. 
“Doesn’t the fact we couldn’t stop loving each other show you how tethered we are to one another? How much we need each other?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 
“Yes, a crippling need,” you answered, making him breathe deeply, trying to hold back a sob. 
“So, you just decided to do what you do best? Hurtle into the future without a fucking care for me? I gave up everything for you to make you happy, and you’re fucking running?” Mingyu taunted, making you snap.
“I never asked you, but you were so fucking stupid to have walked away from friends. Friends who could give you a job or something, and now, you’re here begging me to stay because you didn’t get your shit together,” you spat out, knowing that none of your words held any truth. 
Still, you needed him to stop fighting because you weren’t sure if you could anymore. 
“You didn’t ask me because I thought it was you and me against the world,” Mingyu yelled. 
“Well, it’s not! Grow up! Get a job, plan your future instead of ruining mine just because you don’t have a planned future,” you fumed, stopping yourself, but you knew it was too late. 
“No, you’re right. I don’t because I thought you were my future, but now, you’re gone, so I guess you’re right. I don’t have a future, so please leave,” Mingyu asked. You couldn’t help yourself, but you knew if you comforted him now, you’d give in, and you couldn’t. 
“Mingyu, this is my apartment, so why don’t you step right out?” You mocked, making Mingyu let out a broken sob. 
“I can’t waste my time and cry for you any longer. There’s no more crying that I can do for you,” you added as Mingyu pulled out a suitcase and started to throw his things in. 
“You can leave in a week or something. There’s no rush,” you mumbled, feeling nothing but shame and guilt. 
“You were my homeland. You were my safe space, and now that you’ve gone and thrown me out, put me in exile, what’s the point? This isn’t my house anyway, and clearly, I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Mingyu answered tearfully as you watched him pack. 
You stood and watched him pack and remove the necklace you once gave him and place it on the bedside table. 
Mingyu took another look around the room and then wiped his face before grabbing his passport and documents out of a drawer and stuffing them into the suitcase. 
“Where will you go?” You asked, and Mingyu shook his head. 
“That’s none of your concern, I’ll be fine, but you,” Mingyu paused to steady his voice. 
“You’ll be fine, excel at everything, and do so well, my love, shit sorry, Y/N. You’ve always been amazing, so thank you for the last ten years of my life, and oh, when you fall in love again, tell him to be good to you,” Mingyu rambled, pausing to smile at you through his tears. 
“But please apologise to that guy because if there’s a weepy guy at your wedding, oh fuck, never mind, why would you invite me. Fuck I’m babbling. You don’t want this. I’ll be on my way,” Mingyu paused his ramble to kiss your forehead. 
“Please stay safe,” Mingyu said before practically running out the door. You waited for him to leave until you couldn’t hear his footsteps in the hallway break down. 
“Fuck!” You cried out, you felt so much pain engulf you, you felt as if someone had snatched your heart out of your chest, you felt as if you had a thousand cuts all over your body and that each second, someone was pouring salt into every wound. 
You didn’t know pain like this. You fell to the floor sobbing, unable to withstand the pain, letting it engulf you. So, you let it. You did this, and you deserved to be hurt. 
“I’m so sorry,” you apologised to the empty room. You broke him and yourself, but you weren’t his problem. You lost the right to care when you threw him out. 
So, you’d do what you do best, push through, ignore the pain and push into the future because if you ran fast enough, you might forget the present and perhaps the pain wouldn’t catch up to you any longer.  6 Months Later
Your method wasn’t foolproof. 
Simply running away from your problems only brought you temporary comfort. 
It allowed you to plaster a fake smile and get things done. It brought you false hope when you told your mother that you had let him go. 
Your method was like a ticking time bomb. You’d hold off only for so long. You knew your pain and your actions would catch up to you. 
Eventually, you took steps to prolong it. You had blocked Mingyu on every possible social media site. You even put all his things in storage and scrubbed the apartment clean, and when you were done, there was no proof that he ever existed in your life. 
You acted like he was a ghost because, somehow, it was easier believing that in some twisted way than picking up the phone and apologising or checking in. 
It was easier this way. You put a bandaid on a wound that had cut through every part of you, foolishly hoping it’d be enough. 
That stupid bandaid got you through your life in Japan. You’d find moments where you’d think of Mingyu, wondering how he’d love certain foods and sights, but you would push any thought of him away, and you were doing a good job. 
Until you were going through your things and found a black journal. You were familiar with it the moment you opened the journal. You wished you could have gone back in time and undid everything because opening up the journal made you feel like you just ripped open the bandaid. 
It was Mingyu’s journal. 
A journal dated the day you two started therapy. You knew it was wrong to read his innermost thoughts, but maybe you’d get closure. So, you got a bottle of wine and began to read.
Most of the entries did nothing but break your heart repeatedly until you came across the last one. 
It was dated the night of the date, your last date with him. 
“I can’t wait to surprise her tonight. I think we’re going to be okay,” Mingyu wrote. 
Your heart stopped. 
A surprise, he was planning something that night. 
What was it? 
You had to find out. 
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You had planned most of your life down to the last detail, so randomly catching a plane, after calling your boss and randomly quitting, and landing back home after six months felt odd. 
This was home, so why did it no longer feel like it? The way you had shut your heart to Mingyu, had this town also shut you out, decided that someone as heartless as you didn’t deserve another chance?
You had unblocked Mingyu on socials in a feeble attempt to try and find him, and you saw that he frequented a bakery often. It was a shot in the dark but your only shot. You hailed a taxi from the airport and gave him the address to the bakery. 
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You ran into the bakery, huffing as you lugged two suitcases. 
“Can I help you, miss?” A beautiful girl asked you, and you stared at her. 
“No, but you have a frequent customer, Mingyu?” You asked, causing the lady to laugh. 
“Customer, honey, he’s the owner? Do you have an appointment with him, or would you like a consult? He’s got a free evening, so I can pencil you in. Just walk all the way, and when you see a white door with golden roses on it, you’ve found it,” the lady instructed, and you just moved on autopilot as you reached his door. 
Your knuckles trembled as they knocked against the door, his door. 
“Come in!” A cheery voice you yearned to hear for so long, a voice you missed every day and every night replied. 
You pushed the door open and noticed that Mingyu was too busy sketching to look up, and he continued drawing. 
“Just take a seat, make yourself comfy. Sorry, just finishing up a sketch,” Mingyu said mindlessly, and you stood still. 
Taking him in, his hair was longer, he’d coloured it too, a light brown, and he looked handsome, but also he looked healthy like he was sleeping and resting and happy. 
You noted how focused he was on his work. Mingyu was always handsome to you, but even more so when he was doing something he loved. 
“Seriously, it’s okay. Make yourself up at home,” Mingyu started to say as he got up from his chair. 
“Y/N?” Mingyu asked as he finally noticed you. 
“Oh my goodness,” Mingyu broke into a broad smile as he rushed to hug you, and you could feel the tears pooling in your eyes. How could he? 
How could he look at you with so much kindness after what you did to him?
“Oh my gosh, how are you? You look well. How’s Japan, and how’s the job?” Mingyu asked a question after making you stare at him. 
“I found this,” as you moved away from his embrace, practically slapping the journal against the chest. 
“Oh, I’m guessing you read it?” Mingyu asked with a smile. 
“What did it mean, the surprise?” You asked, and Mingyu smiled at you. 
“Can you spare me some time? I don’t want to have that conversation here, but if you can wait a few minutes, we can return to mine, and I’ll explain every word you read?” Mingyu offered, and you nodded at him. 
“Babe!��� The same girl from the front desk walked into Mingyu’s office. 
Babe? 
You felt your blood run cold. It made sense for him if he moved on, but her? The woman who looked like she was everything you weren’t, maybe that’s why he wanted her. 
“Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to check what you wanted to do for dinner tonight. If you want, I can make pasta?” She kept speaking, each word twisting the knife in your chest deeper. 
“Yuna, this is Y/N, a good friend,” Mingyu introduced, and you forced a smile for her. 
That’s all, but what would he introduce you to her? A friend? His ex, the one who broke his heart? 
“Oh, you guys were friends in school, right? Nice of you to visit, so I guess raincheck on dinner? Oh, babe, please don’t forget we must go to the dress store. I need you to pick out the suit for the wedding,” Yuna said as she gave him a peck on the cheek, shot you a smile and left the room. 
Mingyu had moved on so quickly? A wedding? He waited ten years to propose to you—sort of—but with Yuna, only six months, maybe he wasn’t the problem. You were, you saw her, pretty, friendly, and she seemed to make him smile. Something you failed to do for so long. 
So, it made sense that he’d see a future with her and not you. 
Mingyu could hear your overthinking, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort you right now, but he’d do it the minute you two were in his house. Alone and in a safe space. 
“Shall we?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, following him, not saying a word during the entire car ride back to his apartment and the walk to his apartment. 
“I’m going to take a shower and freshen up. If you want, you can use the guest room. I can grab you some clothes,” Mingyu offered, and you followed him into the guest room, not saying a word. 
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 Mingyu poked his head into the bathroom when he noticed you hadn’t emerged in a half-hour. Worried, he entered, and his heart broke when he understood what you were doing. 
“Hey, no, stop that,” Mingyu said, poking his head in at first and then entering the bathroom when he understood what was happening. 
“Just wanted to see what I was missing,” you admitted, making Mingyu frown as he helped you sit on the countertop. Mingyu grabbed a towel, wet it, and gently wiped your face with it. 
“She’s pretty.” You muttered, and Mingyu sighed, placing the towel on the counter.
“She’s got a nice body,” you continued to speak as you were apart. Mingyu stared at you in disbelief, and he hated how you were tearing yourself apart. 
“Can you shower? Or manage on your own?” Mingyu asked; he didn’t want to leave you, but he was very aware that you were naked and crying, and he didn’t want to upset you any further. 
“I guess you found the one you love, and I’m here like a moron because I thought you still loved me. I selfishly thought you still loved me,” Mingyu shook his head and snapped, and his hands found your face and pulled you in for a kiss. You gently pushed him away. 
“Don’t pity me,” you muttered Mingyu glared at you. 
“None of this is out of pity.” Mingyu moved his hands to your neck, gently tracing your skin until he reached your lower back and pulled you closer to him. 
“I’m going to ask you again; can you manage to shower alone. Or do you need me to help you?” You sighed and pushed your body against him.
“I need you,” you answered. Mingyu nodded before moving away and stripping. 
“Fuck, see, you have a nice body,” you said to Mingyu, making him glare at you as he helped you into the shower. 
“So do you, and fuck, I’ll be damned if you don’t feel the same by the time I’m done with you,” Mingyu said as he turned on the shower, and you sighed in relief as the warm water poured over you.  
Mingyu reached over for the shampoo and moved his hands into your hair. You moaned as he massaged your scalp, and for a second, you stopped thinking about how crap you felt. You allowed Mingyu to wash you, and you were ready to leave the shower when Mingyu gently pushed you against the wall. 
Mingyu moved his lips from your forehead until he reached your lips and captured them in a sweet kiss. 
One which had you swooning. 
It was so soft and yet deliberate. You moaned as you felt him deepen the kiss with his tongue. Mingyu kept kissing you until the need for air became too urgent, and he gently pulled away. 
Mingyu moved his lips to your neck, slowly sucking and gently nibbling the skin there. He left a trail of marks on your neck, all shades of purple and pink. Mingyu moved his hands to your breasts, massaging the soft skin, tugging and pinching your nipples, making you moan. 
Mingyu pulled away from your body and got down on his knees in front of you. He dove into your cunt, licking your folds, and your hands moved their way into his wet hair. 
Mingyu didn’t move a muscle, only his tongue as he glided it up and down your cunt. He moved slightly and pushed his tongue into you, making you gasp in pleasure. Mingyu groaned as he tasted your arousal, pushing his tongue in further. Mingyu moved his tongue back to your clit and flicked the now-engorged nub while pushing two fingers inside you. 
You were whimpering and gasping in pleasure as Mingyu fingered you until you came. Mingyu held your thighs in place as he continued to lick you through your orgasm. He was focused on making you cum as many times are he could with his tongue. You shuddered when Mingyu continued, never stopping. 
Mingyu moved his hands to grab your ass and pulled your ass cheeks apart, making you groan. 
Mingyu’s lips never left your clit. You could only mewl and let out sobs of pleasure as he licked you. You were gasping for air as you reached your second orgasm. Mingyu’s mouth never moved from your clit as he licked you through your orgasm. 
Mingyu moved his lips away from your cunt, and moaned when he saw your state. 
“You look so fucking good like this, swollen pussy, mouth open. You look gorgeous when you cum,” Mingyu praised, and you clenched your thighs together at his words. 
“Turn around, face the wall,” Mingyu instructed, and you weakly turned around as you trembled. 
“If anything is too much, tell me, okay?” You mumbled a yes, and Mingyu pushed his fingers into your cunt.
“Good?” You choked out a yes. The new angle with which he entered your cunt had you seeing stars. 
“Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You mumbled as your legs started to shake, Mingyu simply hummed against your wet folds, and that’s all it took for you cum again. 
“Please, fuck me,” you begged, and Mingyu slowly got up, held your body close to his, and pulled you in for another kiss; you were so immersed in the kiss that you failed to register him lifting you in his arms and aligning you with his hard cock. 
“Can I?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded at him.
 “Fucking hell, you’re so tight,” Mingyu groaned as he pushed himself into you and started to pound into your cunt. 
 “Fucking hell,” you groaned as you bit down on his shoulder as fucked you into your fourth orgasm. 
“Fuck, I won’t last long,” Mingyu choked out.
“Cum inside me,” you begged him.
Mingyu smiled at you, “gladly,” he said as he thrust into you harder, making you shake and clench around him each time. You moaned when you felt him finally still and cum inside you, his warmth coating your walls. 
Mingyu slowly placed you back down, “fucking hell,” you groaned, grabbing Mingyu’s forearm as he started fingering you hard. 
“One more baby, one more,” Mingyu coaxed as he fingered you to another orgasm. You nodded as you felt yourself cum simply based on his command Mingyu didn’t stop until you came again. This time he finally moved his fingers away from your cunt. 
You were so fucked out. All you could do was hiss slightly when Mingyu finally washed you up, wrapped you in a towel, and carried you to his bed. He towelled your hair dry, put his shirt on you, and pulled you into his arms, wrapping the blanket over you two. 
You turned in his embrace to place your head on his chest, “cuddly,” Mingyu noted with a soft smile on his lips, and you returned a smile back to him, making him bend his head down and capture your lips in a gentle kiss. 
You opened your mouth to speak, and Mingyu held a hand out to stop you. 
“Tomorrow morning, please,” Mingyu pleaded, and you nodded. 
You could do that.
Pretend for one more night.  ~~ Second, Third and Hundredth Chances  ~~
“Morning,” Mingyu greeted you as you entered the kitchen the following day. He stood by the kitchen island, poured himself a cup of coffee and another one, and pushed it across the island, nudging you to sit and face him after six months. 
Six months. That’s how long you went silent on him, blocked him out, and suddenly showed up at his door because of a journal. 
All his life, Mingyu knew you as a planner. You always had a backup plan, so for you to show up unannounced seemed so odd. Maybe you were passing by. Or you just wanted the last word, but after six months. 
Seeing you again, Mingyu felt pain, anger, and hurt, but more than anything, he still felt love. No matter how badly it ended, you were so much more than his ex-girlfriend. You were the woman he once wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It didn’t matter what would transpire; you would always be unique to him, and he could only hope he held a similar position in your heart. 
“So,” Mingyu started to say as you sipped the coffee. 
“I made you cheat. I’m so fucking sorry,” you mumbled, making Mingyu laugh. 
“Right, I didn’t cheat when I was with you, and that’s not something I’m going just to start doing because I’m with someone who isn’t you,” Mingyu said, and you stared at him, confused. 
“But Yuna?” You asked. 
“When you threw me out, I couldn’t find a place that late at night, so I ended up at a bar and cried my eyes out to Yuna. She ran the bar that night and felt sorry for me, so she took me home,” Mingyu explained, pausing to gauge your reaction. 
Mingyu felt slightly cruel for testing you like this, but with the hell, you put him through for six months, this was nothing, and he wanted to see if you still loved him or just got upset because you thought you had some right to him. 
“Yuna and her fiancé, they both, I guess, let me crash and nursed me back that night and just let me mope in their house for a solid month,” Mingyu explained, making you exhale. 
“She calls everyone babe and kisses everyone’s cheeks but only kisses her fiancé’s lips,” Mingyu elaborated, making you sigh in relief. 
“I think it was month two of moping over you, and I was, you know, useless and jobless,” Mingyu continued to speak, hurting you, knowing that you used the exact words when you broke his heart. 
“I was baking a lot, and Yuna’s husband is a famous pastry chef, and he saw me swiping through my Pinterest board and asked if I wanted to do something with my life or just cry over you,” Mingyu chuckled, recalling the memory. 
“So, for four months, I poured all my efforts into my craft, and I picked up everything quickly, and I guess I’ve been lucky, and the bakery is doing well and honestly. I thought I was finally moving on, but then, you showed up at the place I created to get away from the hurt you caused me,” Mingyu finished, his tone now serious and stern. 
“So why are you here, after all these months, and don’t tell me it’s because of a fucking journal. You wouldn’t randomly get on a flight and show up without a plan, so tell me, did you come here to reopen all the wounds I tried so hard to heal?” Mingyu asked, and you fumbled. 
“Do you know what you did to me? That night, you not only assumed that I was an unsupportive boyfriend, but you equated my ability to love you down to the fact that I was unemployed and directionless, and that is fucked up. Like beyond fucked up. So when you threw me out, I honestly believed I was worth nothing. I didn’t think I was enough. While I still want the best for you, you broke me when I needed you most, and seeing you here now, when I’m just getting my shit together, it fucks with me because a part of me wants to kick you out the way you did to me, but a part of me wants to kiss you and try again so tell me Y/N which part should I listen to?” Mingyu fumed, making you cry. 
“Why did you do it? Because what we kept breaking the ‘no sex rule’ or did something else happen? After that date, you said you fell in love with me again, and three days later, you did that. Was it because you accepted the job offer and you felt guilty? I know I’m not perfect, but I broke myself trying to be the man you deserved, and it still wasn’t enough, so I think I am at least owed something, some explanation,” Mingyu implored, his voice softer, and you couldn’t stop the tears from escaping. 
“Fucking speak, will you? You had no problem tearing me apart, so why are you quiet now?” Mingyu asked, frustrated. 
“Because you were bending over backwards, you did so much, and I did nothing. Mingyu, I got mad at you because another girl gave you the attention I didn’t. You were focused on fixing us, and I was focused on just fixing you, and yes, you’re right. The fact that I accepted the job without a second thought for you made me realise what a selfish person I was. I was ashamed, and then you took me out on that date,” you paused to take a breath before continuing. 
“I felt like a failure. I failed you because I was so willing to fix us. Still, I didn’t want to go through the pain because I was scared that at the end of it all, you’d realise that you were better off, and I couldn’t deal with that, so I thought it’d be easier if I made you hate me,” you blubbered out, and Mingyu looked at you in disbelief. 
“I ran away because it was easier. I took the easy way out because the tables had turned. You were succeeding in fixing us, doing the work, and all I could do was watch you put in so much, never expecting anything in return. I couldn’t do that to you, so I just let you go in the worst way possible,” you explained through your tears. 
“I know what you wanted to do the night of the date. I found a velvet box, and I just wanted to confirm that when I flew down here and walked in, it didn’t feel like home. It felt cold and distant, and I didn’t fit here anymore. I saw you happy, glowing, and you had started fresh, and me? I’ve been on autopilot, working, coming home and trying so fucking hard not to think about you, and that journal was an excuse because I couldn’t stay away anymore,” you sputtered out. 
“I knew you wanted to propose, and I ran because while it was everything I ever wanted, I wasn’t the woman you deserved, and I don’t know what I’m doing here because I’m certainly not the woman you deserve now. So, thank you for last night, and I’m sorry that I rehashed old wounds, and it was because I was selfish. I was selfish that night, and I’m still the same,” you cried out. 
“Selfish?” Mingyu repeated as he walked over to you, holding your face. 
“Scared, not selfish,” Mingyu said with a sad smile. 
“How do you not hate me; how can you still be so kind and loving after everything I did to you?” You asked as Mingyu wiped your tears away. 
“Because I still love you, hell you fucked with me, but when I saw you yesterday, it felt like a missing part of me was found, and while it hurt, because I got used to that missing piece, I felt alive, seeing you, and I know that the last time I gave up because I thought that’s what you wanted, but after last night. I know it’s not; it can’t be. So, tell me, did you come back to ask me about a journal entry or because you love me?” Mingyu asked, and you sighed. 
“I left everything. I was looking for something to bring me back to you because, after I left, I didn’t think I had a right to face you again, so the journal was my excuse,” you answered, and Mingyu stared at you. 
“Everything?” Mingyu asked. 
“I quit and packed my shit and came here and handed over the keys to the apartment in Japan to my landlord, and I guess I came here, hoping to come home and selfishly hoping to come back home to you,” you answered, biting your lip unable to look at Mingyu. 
“But your promotion?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 
“It took me six months to realise that no promotion, no success in the world meant anything to me if you weren’t by my side, and it felt hollow. Every applause and pay cheque felt worthless because, in a room full of praises, I only ever wanted to hear your voice and come home. I always hoped that you’d be there, and I’d run into your arms and kiss you, and we would both sit and tell each other about our days, and then at night kiss each other and make love to each other, but all I got was an empty house,” you rambled making Mingyu smile tearily at you. 
“Can I ask you for a favour?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, looking at him. 
“This time, I don’t care how difficult it is, how serious it is, how big or small the issue is, you come to me, no matter if it’s a small issue or a big issue, you’re coming to me, you don’t kick me out, and you don’t fight with me, but you fight for us,” Mingyu explained making your eyes widen. 
“After all I did to you. You’ll take me back?” You asked, and Mingyu smiled at you. 
“I was always going to come back to fight for you. I just needed time to be strong enough to do so, but yes, because if there’s anything these six months taught me, it is that I’d rather spend six months going through this pain a hundred times over, provided that each time the outcome was the same, you back in my life,” Mingyu explained making you cry even more.
“How can you love me so much?” You asked, making Mingyu laugh. 
“You stole my heart in a science class when you threw a paper at my head for being too loud in class, I was yours then, and I’m yours now, so tell me, my love, will you be mine again?” Mingyu asked, and you cried, nodding. 
“If you can forgive me?” You cried out, and Mingyu smiled sweetly at you. 
“I forgave you long ago. I was hurt, but my love for you is paramount, and it’s easier to love you than to be mad at you,” Mingyu explained, hugging you. “The perk of knowing you for so many years is that I know, despite your harsh words, you get defensive and deflective and often, what you do instead of saying the truth is act and lash out.”
“I don’t deserve a love as understanding as the one you have for me,” you admitted, and Mingyu shrugged. 
“We didn’t have the most perfect few years, but maybe that’s what we needed. Maybe Dr Kwan’s separation therapy worked because six months of radio silence was more painful than when we were fighting. After all, at least I could see you hug you, and talk to you, but not hear a word from you, not knowing anything that was nothing short of torture. I don’t want to go through that again,” Mingyu explained.
“It took me losing you to realise how much I love you,” you answered, pausing to wipe your tears, “and if you let me, Mingyu, I’ll never let you go again. I’ll love you the way I always should have, and I’ll never let you go because losing you was like I lost my ability to breathe, but here in your arms. I feel safe, loved, and at home, and I don’t want to lose my home again, and I-” Mingyu’s lips cut off your speech on yours. 
“Sorry, but I had to,” Mingyu said sheepishly, making you smile. 
“This will sound weird, but Y/N, will you go on a date with me?” Mingyu asked, making you smile as you burst into a wide smile and hugged him tightly. 
“I’d love to,” you answered. 
“Good, Tuesday night? I’ll pick you up. It’s a surprise,” Mingyu asked, and you nodded furiously. 
All those times you thought it’d work, you always were still unsure, but today, right now, you knew that you’d love him because loving him allowed you to see the world in colour and losing him took away all the colour and joy in the world and this time you didn’t want to fix it for the sake of it. 
You wanted to fix it because you loved him. 
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The Finale: What I Should Have Said
One Year Later  
“Oh, for the love of God, please do not break,” Mingyu muttered as he set up the decorations for  your anniversary date on the balcony. At this moment, he was yelling at a bouquet to stand still. 
“Mingyu? What is so urgent? I’m home?” You called out, and Mingyu pouted, glaring at the faultless flower bouquet. You were back and early, 
“In here!” Mingyu yelled out. 
You walked into the house, noticing all the lights had been dimmed. There were flower petals everywhere. You smiled. You knew Mingyu was going to do something for the anniversary. You just weren’t entirely sure what. 
“Hi,” Mingyu looked up to see you, smiling at the decorations. He walked over to you and kissed you. 
“Happy Anniversary.” He mumbled against your lips.
“Happy Anniversary to you, too,” you said. You smiled as he held your hand and pulled you to the sofa. 
“Ooh, cake!” You exclaimed, making Mingyu roll his eyes at you.  
“I’m a three-course meal, and you are salivating over a cake?” Mingyu complained, but you laughed.
“Oh, get over it,” You kept laughing, and Mingyu sliced a piece out for you. He was oddly precise and took a long time to slice the cake. 
“Dude, just give me the cake,” you muttered, and Mingyu scowled.
“Did you just dude me?” Mingyu asked dramatically. You smiled at him as you took the cake from him and immediately scooped a piece into your mouth. You felt something sharp in your mouth; you tasted blood and metal and glared at Mingyu. 
“What did you do? Accidentally leave a fork in the cake?” You glared, and Mingyu gasped in an attempt to bite back a laugh. 
“Why don’t you get cleaned up and find out?” Mingyu offered, and you looked at him strangely. However, it was your turn to gasp as you ran to the bathroom and pulled a ring from your mouth. 
You washed the ring and returned to the balcony where Mingyu was frantically pacing. 
“Mingyu?” You asked, holding out the now-washed ring in your hand. Mingyu took it from you and knelt down. 
“I waited too long last time, I waited for a sign, the right time, all that bullshit, and I’m not saying that if I had done it earlier, our problems would have never occurred, but I know waiting sure as hell didn’t help. I know I wanted to marry you when I was 19, and now, more than ten years later, I still want that, except this time, I don’t want to wait to find the right time, place or anything. I don’t need any of that. I just know that I need the right person, and I have that with you, my love,” Mingyu declared, making you tear up. 
“The last year has been a lot for us. We found each other again and worked together to fix ourselves, and you know what? I’d do it all over again if it meant fixing us, and if it meant that a year later, I’d be here proposing to you, so what do you say, Y/N? Will you be mine forever, and will you love me forever the way I know I will love you?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, unable to say much but give him a muffled yes. 
Mingyu slipped the ring onto your finger, pulled you into his arms, and hugged you tightly. 
“When I said we’d be okay, this is what I meant, I knew it’d hurt, and it’d take fucking a lot of time and patience, but I’d do it all over again a thousand times even if this is the ending, I get each time we’re done,” Mingyu spoke, and you looked up at him smiling. 
“Me too. I’d lose you a thousand times over if it meant being back in your arms at the end,” you replied, making Mingyu smile. 
“I love you,” Mingyu said, and you smiled at him, “I love you too, so much you loved me despite all my flaws and imperfections”, you replied.
“I saw those ‘flaws’ and ‘imperfections,’ and I fell in love with every part of you. We’re both imperfect, but the way we love each other, now that’s fucking perfect!” Mingyu replied, holding you tighter. 
You knew this was your home; with him in his arms, that’s where it was no longer cold; it was warm, safe, and it was home. 
He was home.
947 notes · View notes
changbunnies · 2 months
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Lowkey, I Need You (To Move Out) 18+
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♡ Pairing: Changbin x Fem!Reader
♡ Genre: friends with benefits, friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, angst, fluff, smut with plot, mutual pining but especially lots of pining from binnie
♡ Word Count: 12k
♡ Summary: Changbin has a problem– he’s in love with his friend with benefits. And not only is he in love with her, but she’s also his roommate. Torn on what to do, the only thing he knows for certain is that something has to change soon– but is he even brave enough to spark that change, and risk their friendship?
♡ Warnings: miscommunication, but it's resolved quickly!, bin is lil insecure but we're here to make it better !!, gets a bit emotional because truly this is a love letter to changbin and how much i adore him
♡ Smut Warnings: multiple smut scenes, switch!bin with a heavy sub lean, as usual changbin is an extremely soft and perfect lover, pet names (baby, bun, bunny, honey, sweet + good boy), oral (m + f rec), fingering (f rec), nipple play, begging, a tiny bit of edging, spit as lube, cock warming, unprotected piv, creampie, praise kink, body worship, face sitting
♡ Notes: this was written in response to the topic of binnie being excluded, because as a bin biased girlie it's my job to show out for him when he needs the extra love! i've been wanting to write a fwb for SO long and in true changbunnies fashion this turned out longer than i intended it to be but i just had so much fun writing it and giving binnie the attention he deserves, so i hope you enjoy it too !!
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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What do you do when you realize you've fallen in love with your friend with benefits? And what do you do when said friend is also your roommate? The conclusion that Changbin has reached is simple: spiral.
Well, not that spiraling is an actual choice in this scenario– he can't stop it from happening despite how desperately he wants to. He knows you aren't looking for a relationship right now, that you like what you have together because it's casual and fun.
You swore off dating apps and relationships after having your heart broken one too many times, and the only reason you're friends with benefits with Changbin is because you trust him– a trust that he is loath to break by dropping the revelation that he's fallen in love with you.
You were away from your shared apartment for the past week and a half, on a trip back to your home town to visit family. It was exhausting, but fun enough when your parents weren't driving you up the wall by pestering you with questions about when you're going to start bringing a boyfriend back home with you, you told Changbin on the phone last night whilst packing to come back to the city.
He hated the way his heart sank to the pit of his stomach when he considered the fact that he'll never be the boyfriend going home with you to meet your family. And he wants to be, fucking hell, does he want to be yours.
He wants to tell you he loves you and have it mean something more than the platonic love between friends, to take you on dates and freely hold your hand when walking through the city streets together, to share a bed with you for more than just a fuck.
How many times has he wanted to pull you back to him when you start to get up from his bed? To reach out and beg you to stay when you start to get dressed? To knock on your door late at night and lay everything out on the line because the way it keeps him up at night is becoming unbearable?
Fuck, he can't keep dwelling on it– you've been on your way home since this morning, and you're due back any minute now. It'll be disastrous for Changbin if you walk through the door and realize something's off with him.
His heart twisted when he checked his phone and saw a new text, one excitedly telling him you're almost home and that you've missed him– but was it really him you missed, or just fucking him? He didn't know anymore, and he was afraid to find out.
Changbin jumps when he hears the lock to the front door click, taking a breath to calm his racing heart as he rises to his feet to help you with your luggage and welcome you back home. 
He’s spent enough time spiraling over what to do this past week, he can’t afford to anymore; not if he wants to keep his sanity intact, anyways. He can do this– once you get settled, he can have a heart to heart with you, and everything will be fine. Even if it’s too much to confess his feelings, surely there’s a way to go about things where you’re both still happy, right?
Changbin did a lot around the apartment to make it perfect for you upon your return– cleaned and dusted every common room until they were spotless, made sure not a single dirty dish was left in the sink, emptied every trash can.. He even unclogged the drains and scrubbed the tub! He just wanted to make sure you didn’t have a single thing to do, that you could just relax and unwind in clean comfort after your trip. 
But you don’t spare a single glance around the apartment once you enter– you look just at him, smiling as you kick the door closed behind you, and drop your luggage to the floor to squeeze him into a hug. 
He blinks a moment in surprise at how quick the action is– he didn’t even have the chance to get a word out before you were on him. Still, he quickly returns the hug while trying his best to prevent the happy, almost relieved sigh you let out as you bury your head into his chest from giving him false hope.
“You really missed me this much?” Changbin asks with a small giggle– why is he even asking? So much for not giving himself false hope. He just blurted it out without thinking, really; but he can’t pretend the way you affirm it doesn’t make his heart swell. 
It was the longest you’d ever been apart from Changbin since moving in together, and it put a lot of things into perspective. Like, you really did miss him, of course you did, he’s your friend! But there was something more– you don’t think you’d ever missed someone so fucking badly before. 
Like, staying up all night because you can’t stop thinking about him type of ‘I miss you.’ Wanting to text him or call him at all hours of the day just to check up on him and ask what he’s been up to even though you’re supposed to be focusing on your family and reuniting with childhood friends.
You missed everything about him– his smile and cute laugh, the way he smells, his big arms wrapped around you and squeezing you close. You wanted to hear his voice again, and not through the grainy speaker of your phone, wanted to see him without your parent’s shitty old wifi connection lagging your call, and making him pixelated and blurry.
Changbin is your home, you realized; wherever he is is where you want to be. As long as he’s there, you’d have everything you need to be happy. Is that too sentimental of a feeling for just friends?
Yes, you know it is– and every time you felt it for him before, you shoved it down as deep you could, not ready to get your heart broken again just yet. Better to hold onto him for as long as you can, before he cuts things off to start dating again.
But of course, you can’t deny you also missed him in other, less than innocent ways. The squeak he lets out when you surprise him with a kiss, the cute way he blushes and giggles when you compliment him or call him his favorite pet name, the way he’ll easily drop to his knees for you the moment you tell him you need him. 
He never cares what he’s in the middle of or what he needs to get done– if you tell him you want him, he’s ready for you, eager to please. Even if he loses sleep, if it makes him late for work, if it means the food on the stove is going to burn– none of it matters if you need his tongue on you. And you’ll reward him, you always do; with sweet words and touches that makes his heart feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest while his cock throbs.
“Missed you more than you know,” you say in a near whisper, pressing your lips to his like you’ve been eager to do since walking through the door. Changbin practically melts when you kiss him, as always; he just can’t help it– he’s forever going to be putty in your hands. 
Was he right in his fear that you only missed him for the sex? Maybe, but he can’t even dwell on the idea anymore– not when the urgency in which you start touching him underneath his shirt while sliding your tongue in his mouth makes him weak at the knees.
Fuck it, maybe that is all you want him for these days, but he’d never stop giving you what you want. Use him over and over, run his heart into the ground when it’s done, what does it matter? At least in this moment he’s yours, even if it’s only temporary. 
You grab Changbin by the waist and turn him around, pressing his back against the front door to the apartment. One of his feet very nearly gets caught up on your luggage on one of his steps back, but you kick it to the side, away from the two of you. His sound of surprise is muffled by your mouth on his, as is his gasp when your hands travel up to squeeze his pecs.
You can feel his body shudder when your thumbs brush over his nipples, letting out a whine when you pinch them between your fingers. He’s breathless by the time you pull away, watching you with that eager look in his eyes that makes you crazy for him. “B-Baby, what are you-” he tries to ask as you fall to your knees, though the last word dies in his throat when you look back up at him with a smile. 
He still remembers the first time he slipped up and called you “baby.” You were on top of him, riding him so good that all he could do was babble on and on about how good it felt while gripping the bed sheets beneath him. “S-So good, oh my god, baby, it’s– you’re so good, feels so good,” he whimpered, whining loudly when you stopped moving to just look at him.
Changbin was going to ask why you stopped, beg you to please, please keep going, but then it hit him all at once– he called you ‘baby’ when it was never something either of you had done before. And instantly, he looked up at you utterly mortified with himself, ready to apologize over and over again for crossing the line in your friends with benefits relationship.
While the arrangement didn’t come with strict rules, such as no kissing for example, he still was concerned that it was a touch too far in the ‘romantic relationship’ direction. But to his surprise, and relief, you smiled at him, calling him sweet names in return after picking your pace back up. You continued to try out names, gauging his reaction carefully until you found the one that seemed to make him react the most.
And now here you are, looking up at him with his cock pulled out of his sweatpants and throbbing in your hands, calling him the name that turns his brain and body to jelly. “Want to show you how badly I missed you, bunny,” you told him before pressing a lingering kiss to his already leaking tip, his pre-cum smearing over your lips.
Thank fucking God you pressed him against the door, because if he didn’t have the support he’s pretty sure his legs would’ve given out. It’s not often that you’re the one on your knees for him, and the sight is so erotic it makes his brain feel like it’s going to melt out of his ears– not to mention the way you’re talking to him on top of it.
“So hard and leaky already,” you comment gleefully, sticking out your tongue to lick over his tip, “you missed me too, didn’t you, bun?” 
“Y-Yeah, missed you, I missed you so much,” Changbin replies breathlessly, struggling to keep his hips still and not rut against your hands. He bites his lip, restraining the whimpers that threaten to endlessly spill when you open your mouth to take him in.
You don’t waste any time getting the corners of your mouth used to the stretch, or for Changbin to get used to the feeling after having gone without it for so long; you take him all at once, until his tip is touching the back of your throat and your nose is pressed against his pelvis. 
His head falls back against the door as he squeezes his eyes shut, slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle the obscenely loud moan you draw out of him. Normally he pays no mind to his volume because he knows you prefer him loud, but he’d be beyond embarrassed if any neighbors walking the hall heard him just on the other side of the door. 
You swallow around his length, and it takes effort to not gag given how thick and heavy he is, but you manage just fine. Breathing through your nose, you stroke his cock with your tongue whenever you need to give your throat a tiny break, sometimes pulling back to take a bigger breath and let more air into your lungs before sucking him into your mouth again. 
Changbin cards his fingers through your hair, but doesn’t pull– just holds your head in an effort to ground himself. His thighs are trembling, and he’s seemingly given up on trying to be quiet, or is simply too far gone to care anymore, the hand he was using to cover his mouth now clenched into a fist at his side.
“W-Wait, wait, baby, please wait, don’t wanna cum yet,” he pleads as his stomach clenches, the twitching and throbbing of his cock growing more in intensity. He’s lifted his head from the door, looking down at you now and meeting your gaze as you blatantly ignore his request and continue to swallow him down your throat.
“Please, please, your pussy– want your pussy, honey, please,” he tries again, chest heaving as he begs, the fingers threaded through your hair now clenching into a fist as well, but still, he doesn’t pull you off him. That’s one of the things you like most about Changbin– he’s so strong that it’d be easy for him to make you do whatever he wants, but he doesn’t. 
Even now, as desperate as he is to be inside your pussy, he’s obedient, first and foremost. How can you resist giving him what he wants when he’s so sweet, perfect and well behaved? You pull off him with a loud ‘pop,’ watching the way his cock throbs pathetically against his stomach as his impending orgasm begins to ebb away.
You expect him to take a longer moment to recover, but even with how breathless he is, he’s leaning down to pick you up from the floor. You can’t help but let out a squeal as you’re lifted from the ground– you know very well that Changbin is strong, but it always surprises you how effortlessly he can lift your weight. Excites you too, if you’re being completely honest. 
He has you in a full princess carry, one arm supporting your back while the other is under your knees. You know he won’t drop you, but you wrap your arms around his neck anyway for the extra security. He shows his appreciation for you with so many kisses over your face that you can’t help but giggle, and he holds you tighter when his kisses cause you to squirm in his grasp.
“Don’t tickle me with kisses when I can’t escape you,” you half-heartedly complain, and he giggles with you, pressing one more to your nose before he starts walking away from the front door. “We’re going to your room,” he informs you, figuring that’s where you’d prefer to me after having been away from home. 
Your luggage lies forgotten on the floor as he makes his way past the open kitchen and living room, and into the hallway leading to your rooms. Standing in front of your door, you lean in his grasp to twist the door knob, and he gently nudges the door open further with his foot. Your bedroom is just how you left it a week and a half ago, and Changbin sets you down on your bed carefully.
“Are you going to undress yourself for me?” you ask with an expectant tilt of your head, and he blushes ever so slightly as he shyly giggles and nods. It never fails to make him a little shy when you watch him undress like this, but he also takes pride in the way you look at him. Hungry, but somehow still tender and sweet. 
He starts with his sweatpants and underwear, considering his cock is still out from when you pulled them down just enough to get it out. Kicking his feet out once they’ve fallen to the floor, his shirt is next, and he very quickly pulls it up and over his head. “My baby,” you coo at him after beckoning him closer, and it makes his head spin. 
It’s the first time you’ve used a possessive term with him. Your baby.. Yes, whether you know it or not, he’s yours. Only yours. 
“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you continue, smiling when the pink on his flushed cheeks deepens, “And sexy, and adorable, and lovable.” You love complimenting him– even before you were friends with benefits, you’d tell him sweet things whenever you could. It took him a long time to grow into himself and get comfortable and confident in his own skin, and he deserves the pride and joy he feels now. 
Lovable is a new one, and he tries not to let it root itself inside his head– you certainly do love him, but just as a friend, he knows it. You’ve always been sweet to him, and he’s certain that your doting on him and sweet gestures increased only because of the slight change in your relationship, and no other reason. 
Regardless, does the reason matter? You’re complimenting him earnestly, and that’s enough. Even if it’s said without romantic intent, you do mean it– and that’s all he needs, really.
“Help me out with my own clothes now, won’t you, sweet boy?” you ask, and he gives you an excited nod that makes you giggle again. You lift your back off the bed so he can help you with your top and bra, then lift your legs so he can help you out of your pants and underwear when you let your back fall against the bed again. 
He kisses you the entire time he’s getting you out of your clothes, only breaking away when he has to. “Gonna get you ready for me,” he breathes out near the shell of your ear before planting a kiss there, and then trailing them down your neck. He slides his hand between your legs as he does, and you spread them apart for him to make his task easier for him. 
You both know you can handle the sting from his cock stretching you out, sometimes you even crave it– but you can never deny his desire to be sweet to you. If he wants to stretch you out on his fingers first, you’ll let him do it every time. 
“Oh, honey, you’re so wet,” he gasps as he runs his fingers between your folds. It shouldn’t be much of a surprise, really– you always get soaking wet when you and Changbin are being intimate. Still, it always surprises him as much as it did your first time together; he supposes there’s a part of him that still can’t believe you’re this physically attracted to him, even with how much you shower him with compliments. 
Of course, if you knew he had that thought, you’d shower him with even more of them, until there wasn’t a single doubt left in his mind. He’s perfect, truly; there’ll never be anyone who can compare to Changbin.
You don’t need him to start slow or careful, but he does regardless, starting by pressing just one of his fingers to your hole before sliding it inside. He knows you can take more at once, would even enjoy the sting that would follow, but he wants to be good to you! When you’re full of him, so thick that you’re full to the point it’s almost too much, he wants it to be pure bliss. 
Changbin pumps his finger in and out of you slowly, waiting until he’s certain you’re about to start whining for more before adding a second, and after just a little more he’s adding a third. He keeps his fingers still for just a moment, making sure you’re well adjusted before he starts to thrust them in and out in the way he knows you love.
And God, even though it’s you that’s getting fucked right now, he feels like he’s going a little crazy. He’s so addicted to the noises you make, the way your breathing starts to hitch and turn more shallow, how your eyes roll back when he hits that gummy spot inside you. You’re so fucking slick, and squeezing his fingers so tight that he can barely even think straight– not that he was entirely to begin with. 
Is it just because it’s been over a week since the last time you were together? He never thought himself so insatiable or easily worked up, but fuck, you just unlock something in him. He’s had sex plenty of times before you started sleeping together, had plenty of fun experiences with different partners, but only you make me feel so.. needy.
“Binnie, baby, want your cock now, give it to me, please,” you whine, voice impossibly pretty and breathless. “Ah but– are you sure, baby? Don’t want me to make you cum first?” he asks as he slows down the motion of his fingers. 
“We’ve both waited long enough, haven’t we?” you ask, rhetorical; it’s much more a statement than a question. You look at his cock, still leaking steadily and impossibly hard, and then look back to Changbin’s face. “Let’s cum together. That’s what I want,” you tell him, and you can’t help but notice the way his cock twitches from your words in your peripheral. 
Of course, he can’t resist doing whatever you want– especially not when there’s a promise to cum together at the end. So he slips his fingers out of you, and before he can even ask what you’d like him to do, you’re putting your hands on his shoulders and guiding him to his back. 
He falls to his back easily, swallowing as he watches you crawl on top of him. You’ve done it countless times at this point, but it never stops being sexy and exciting to watch. Your hands planted firmly on his chest, and your legs straddling his body, you move your hips back and forth, rubbing your pussy up and down his length to get it wet. 
His tip rubbing against your clit feels so fucking good too, but that’s not why you’re doing this; so you quickly move on before you get carried away and end up grinding on him until you cum. Reaching your hand between your bodies, you grab his cock at the base and angle it where you need it. 
Changbin watches with eager eyes and bated breath, his hands holding your hips for extra support. Even when you start to slowly sink down on him, and you’re both gasping and breathless from the pleasure, he’s careful to not squeeze you too hard. He’s always so tender and careful, even when doesn’t need to be, and you love him for it. 
And true to what he hoped, there’s no sting when you’re fully sat on him, the stretch nothing but pleasurable for you. Because of this, it also means you don’t have to start slow– and so within just a few short moments, you’re bouncing on him rapidly, leaning down to kiss him as you do. 
He has long since stopped being embarrassed about the noises you draw out of him, whimpering and moaning freely as the pleasure seeps into every pore of his body. Your tongue once again slips its way into his mouth, and he meets it eagerly with his own, happy to slide it around yours. 
Bouncing on his cock, and kissing him like this, he can’t help but be reminded of the very first time you slept together. You had just freshly agreed to the friends with benefits arrangement, both of you lonely and in need of some intimacy, but being done with relationships for the time for your own reasons. 
You took the lead, and it was the first time anyone ever had– he was so used to being the macho man in charge for his lovers, that he found it interesting and exciting that you wanted to be the one in control. You told him what to do, how to do it, praised him and guided him along, had him lay down while you crawled on top and did all the work for him after you were ready to take his cock.
And to his surprise, he instantly liked it– loved it, even. He never considered before then letting someone else have the leading role in bed, but after you started, it just felt natural. And when you leaned down and kissed him in that moment, when everything was so different for him and exciting, it felt like everything shifted, like the entire world titled on its axis. 
Maybe he’s been in love with you since then, but only fully realized what he felt recently. Maybe he’s been in love since even further before, but didn’t have the tools then to put that feeling together, because the line between friend and lover can sometimes be blurry. Maybe he’s been a fool this entire time, and continues to be one now– because he knows what he feels now for certain, but is still too scared to admit it to you. 
He’s thankful that your tongue in his mouth prevents him from speaking– because he’s certain if it wasn’t, he’d end up saying something he shouldn’t. It doesn’t stop him from having the thoughts internally, however.
“You’re so perfect, I love you, I love you so much, I need you, need you to need me, love you,” his brain is screaming as his orgasm approaches once more. The noises leaving him growing more in volume and desperation is enough of a warning for you on its own that he’s close, but you can feel him throbbing too, eager for release after how close he was to cumming earlier.
You reach your hand between your bodies once more, this time to rub your clit with your fingers. It makes your pace falter a bit, but Changbin is more than used to helping you in the last stretch like this. He helps you keep your pace with his hands, and thrusts up into you in time with the fall of your hips onto his.
“C-Cumming, oh, bunny, you’re making me cum,” you whimper, biting your lip and furrowing your brow as the circles you draw on your clit grow messy. You gasp when your orgasm hits you, your breath catching in your throat as your mouth hangs open in a silent cry. Changbin was already close, and the way you squeeze around him as you cum unravels him too. 
His cum shoots inside you, hot and sticky, his entire body trembling as he whimpers and whines beneath you. He’s not sure when he closed his eyes, but when he opens them he sees you looking down at him with such a beautiful smile that he truly feels like he died and went to heaven– because fuck, you’re an angel. 
Changbin reaches a hand up, tucks your messy, fallen strands of hair behind your ears, smiling when you coo and call him a “sweet boy,” again. You let your body fall against his chest, resting your head in the crook of his neck as you close your eyes and let out a content sigh. “Baby?” he questions, giggling a little when you mumble about being tired against his skin. 
“We have to get you cleaned up,” he reminds you, though the way he strokes your back surely doesn’t give you any motivation to get off him. “And you need to go to the bathroom before you fall asleep!” he adds, and you hum an acknowledgment, but still make no effort to crawl off him. Instead, your body relaxes even further, and soon enough you’re not even responding to him talking to you anymore.
You’ve fallen asleep much quicker than Changbin would’ve ever expected; he’s sure you’re tired from the days you spent away and the trip back home, and the fact that you fucked him immediately upon getting home likely didn’t do you any favors in keeping the fatigue at bay.
But he’s still here in your bed, beneath you, your body warm and soft and entirely limp as serene snores leave you. He’s not sure if he should try to wiggle his way out from under you, or just stay like this and sleep together. He knows what he wants to do, but.. he’s never spent an entire night in your room, nor have you done so in his.
And all he can think about while he looks up at your ceiling with you in his arms is how much he loves you but can’t tell you.
Fuck. What does he do now?
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It’s been days since Changbin has had the chance to speak with you, but whether or not that’s entirely a good thing remains to be seen– because even with the distance to sort himself out, his mind remains addled and plagued by the desire to be with you as a lover. 
Thankfully, you haven’t noticed anything off with him– mostly because the distance since arriving back home was due to your own need to catch up on sleep, unpack your belongings, and get ready to go back to work and resume life as usual. Whenever you’re not sleeping, you’re busy, and that works for Changbin– or it was supposed to, anyways.
All he’s done the last few days is get back into his spiral. Confess his feelings or not, risk your friendship or keep everything to himself, move out before he loses his mind or stay until the day you decide you’re done.. He wishes there was a simple, easy answer. More than that, he wishes he could guarantee that you’d stay with him if he laid his feelings bare for you.
And he misses you. You’re only a room away across the hall, but he misses you. And he doesn’t fucking know what to do with himself anymore. He’s been trying to sleep for hours now, but all he can do is toss and turn and think about you, how bad he needs you– not just emotionally, but physically too. Because the moment he started thinking about you, it was only a matter of time before he began to reminisce about the sex you’ve had. 
Is his brain fucking against him, or what? As if it wasn’t bad enough he was in a spiral over the possibility of you rejecting his feelings, now he can’t stop thinking about how pretty you looked after your shower this morning. He only saw you in passing, as he had to head out for work and you had to get back to catching up on the work emails that piled up in your inbox while you were away, but God..
If it wasn’t for the fact that you really needed to get your work done before going back to the office when the weekend’s over, he would’ve dropped to his knees right there in the middle of the hallway and eaten you out until you were begging him to stop (or forcing him to by pulling his hair.) He wouldn’t even have cared about his own job– Chan would forgive him, he always did.
And truly, this is agony. Worse than agony, it’s torture. He needs to go take a cold shower and calm the fuck down so he can start thinking rationally again– as rationally as he can manage to in his lovesick state, anyways. With a heavy sigh, he throws his blankets off himself and reaches for his glasses on his nightstand. After putting them on, he rises from his bed, hoping the shower will be enough of a reset to let him get some sleep.
Opening his door, he’s surprised to see you’re awake. Well, he can’t see you just yet from the hallway, but he can see that the lamp in the living room is turned on, and can faintly hear the tv playing lofi focus music. And even though he probably shouldn’t, he can’t resist walking over to check in on you. 
He can hear you typing away on your laptop as he gets closer, and you look away from the screen and turn your head in his direction when you hear his footsteps over the softly playing music. “Oh, Binnie!” you smile at him, and it’s so genuine it makes his heart flutter. He’s so fucking screwed. “Couldn’t sleep?” you ask him, taking a small break from responding to emails to give him your attention.
“O-Oh, yeah, well I was trying to sleep, but..” he trails off when he sees you glancing down his body, to the painfully obvious erection straining against his shorts. “Had a problem?” you finish for him, and his face instantly flushes red. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve caught him with an erection, but it always makes him feel so perverted when it happens this way. 
“I can help you,” you offer, shooting him that pretty smirk that always turns him into jello. Fuck, you’re a siren, and he’s helpless to resist you. But still, aren’t you busy? As much as he’s willing to fuck up his own work performance for you, he’d feel terrible if his neediness made your own work harder for you. 
“I-I was going to shower and take care of it myself, but I saw you were awake and I just wanted to see what you were doing and.. Anyways, you don’t have to! Seriously, I know you’re busy! It’s okay, I don’t-” he babbles, and you giggle at him. He’s just so cute, especially when he’s trying his best to be considerate to you. 
“C’mere. I can’t help you right this minute but good boys like you know how to be patient, right? You can sit pretty here until I’m done with my emails?” you ask, patting the spot next to you on the sofa. Shit, you always know just what to say to him. 
He listens to your siren song, coming to where you beckon him to sit like the obedient boy you know him to be. “Take your cock out for me, baby,” you instruct, and again he listens, not a single ounce of hesitance as he slides his shorts down enough for his erection to spring free. He watches as you set your laptop on the coffee table and stand up, curious as to what you’re doing.
Changbin gulps when you slide your own shorts down your legs, as well as your panties, and fuck, he’s excited, but more than that he’s confused. He thought you told him he’d have to wait until you were done with your emails.. So why are you undressing already..? 
Maybe this is to keep him hard and eager– make him sit there with a view of your bare pussy so that by the time you’re done, he’s desperate and begging for you. Maybe you want to test the limits of your “good boy,” see how riled up you can make him while you work until he snaps and bends you over the sofa, taking you as he pleases. 
You stand in front of him with your back facing him, and though it’s a bit awkward and challenging, you reach behind and take his cock into your hand. “Spit on it, get it wet for me,” you tell him, and though his mind is still reeling from the unexpected development, he does as you ask. 
You spread his saliva around his length as best you can with your fingers, and when you’re content, you carefully press his cock to your hole. It takes you a second to get the angle right thanks to the position, but once you’ve got it, you slowly start to sink down. Changbin gasps and whines, bewildered by what’s happening right now. “B-Baby, I- what- what are you doing? I thought- I don’t-” 
“You’re still going to wait,” you tell him after you’ve fully sat in his lap, doing your best to keep your voice steady and firm despite how deliciously his cock is stretching out. “Be good for me, and stay still ‘til I’m done, okay? And then I’ll take care of you,” you tell him, and again he whines as he watches you lift your laptop from the coffee table and set it back in your lap. 
It’s a little awkward to type like this, but you think the fun that’ll result from it is worth it. Changbin eagerly nods his head, but then he remembers that you can’t see him in this position, so he speaks the best he can. “Y-Yes, I’ll be good for you,” he says with a shaky breath, biting his lip when you squirm ever so slightly to get more comfortable.
You lean back into him, his chest pressing against your back, his face close enough to your neck and shoulder that you can feel his labored breaths tickling your skin. He hears a click on your touchpad, opening a new email he assumes, followed shortly by the sound of keys resuming as you respond to it. 
Why is this so fucking hot? His dick is fully pressed inside you, and you’re not even paying attention to him– just continuing to type away on your laptop as if he’s not even losing his mind beneath you. Or should he say behind you? Both? 
He bites his lip and closes his eyes, trying his best to keep staying still like you told him to, his hands clutching the sofa cushions to keep them from wandering without permission and distracting you from your work. 
And God, he’s trying so hard to be quiet too, but it feels so impossible. The more you type away and click open new emails, the more he throbs. And the more he throbs, the more your pussy reacts by squeezing around him. And then he can’t help but whimper, his eyes rolling back when you adjust in his lap and cause the tiniest bit of friction. 
Click, more typing. A few more clicks, more typing. Click, click, more typing. How long has it even been? Since the moment you sank down on him and started working, he feels like he’s lost all sense of time. All he knows is that your pussy has been squeezing him so good– and it’s so wet now too. Is it just as exciting for you as it is for him? Do you like it? Or is it how good he’s being for you that’s making you soak his cock? 
“B-Baby, are you almost done? Please tell me you’re almost done,” Changbin whines, the desperation in his voice palpable. You chuckle as you click send on another email, wishing you could see his face right now– you’re sure he’s absolutely debauched. “Not quite,” you answer, and you can practically hear the pout in his whine.
Changbin is many things, but impatient and disobedient is not among the list. And he’s trying so, so hard to keep staying still, but he doesn’t think he can take it much longer. Honestly, you’re not sure if you can either– you’re quickly losing focus on your emails, and you’re fairly certain at least a handful of them were written less than professionally. 
Still, you click open another one, trying not to react to the way he desperately whimpers. He can’t be bad, he can’t– so his only option is to keep sitting here, and take it. “You’re- you’re almost done now, right?” he asks after another few minutes of waiting– at least, it felt like that to him. For all he knew, in reality it could’ve been more like 30 seconds. 
“What’s wrong, baby? Can’t wait anymore?” It’s a bit of a mean question, you know– especially since you already know the answer. But still, it’s fun to ask, and you love how whiny and breathy his voice has gotten in the time you’ve been sitting on his cock. 
“I-I’m sorry, I’m really trying, I just- I-I’ve never wanted to fuck you so bad before, I’m going crazy,” he practically cries, and you’re sure that if you turned around, you’d see his plump lips formed into the cutest, most devastating pout. “But I’m- I’m good,” he continues after taking another shaky breath, “I won’t move, not unless you tell me to, I promise.”
Fuck it– you still have work, but who cares? Surely your boss will understand if you couldn’t get to every email right? You got through most of them, and that counts for something, doesn’t it? That’s the justification you give yourself anyways as you close your inbox. 
“You want to fuck me, Binnie?” you ask him, and he eagerly nods just as he did before, remembering again at the last moment that you can’t see him. “Yes, yes! I really, really want to,” he replies, letting out a salacious moan when you start to lift off him. You shut your laptop and place it back on the coffee table before you turn around to look at Changbin.
Just as you expected, he looks deliciously debauched. Lips swollen and bitten red, face flushed, eyes sparkling with hope and desire as he looks up at you. “You’re right baby, you’re good. Such a good boy,” you coo at him, leaning down to kiss him sweetly. “How do you want me?” you ask him when you pull back, and his brain has to work overtime to stop itself from short circuiting from the question.
If you’re letting him pick, there’s one clear answer that’ll make him the happiest. “Lay down- on your back, please. Want to look at you, want you to look at me,” he says, and you smile at him as you lay back against the sofa, spreading your legs so Changbin can crawl between them. He kisses you as he takes his cock in his hand, pressing it against your hole before pulling away to look at you for approval.
“Go ahead, fuck me, bunny,” you encourage him sweetly. A shiver runs down the length of his spine as he starts to push back inside you, another obscene whine from deep in his throat leaving him when he’s fully inside. He leans down to kiss you again when he starts to fuck you earnestly, because that’s all he can think to do with his overwhelming wave of emotions. 
He’s thrusting fast from the start, all the pent up desperation and need for you pouring out of him ceaselessly. Your eyes always stay on his, even when he hits your spot in the way that normally makes them close or roll back, and it makes him crazy how you’re catering to his desire to have you looking at him.  
Your eyes are so pretty, so warm in the way they look at him. Everything about you is warm– your hands when they hold him, your body when it envelops him, your voice when you speak to him. The way you smile at him when he enters the room, the way you laugh at his stupid jokes, it’s warm, all of you is so, so warm. You’re home, you’re comfort, you’re bliss.
He feels like he’s unraveling in his entirety as he looks down at you, his pace quickly growing sloppy as his cock throbs. He can’t handle the way you’re looking up at him, can feel the tears threatening to well up in the corners of his eyes. He’s so overwhelmed by it all– by the pleasure, by the way you look lying beneath him, by how much he loves you. 
“You’re so beautiful, oh my god,” he whines, every thought that’s been running through his mind falling from his lips as he squeezes you in his arms. He knows he should shut up, should bite his lip or slap his hand over his mouth before he says something he shouldn’t, but the words just keep pouring out of him. 
“You’re so pretty, so fucking pretty, I can’t take it sometimes,” he continues, whimpering when you bring your fingers to your clit and start to squeeze around him tighter. “You- you make me so crazy, you’re perfect, so perfect, and- God, ‘m so close, love you so much, I love you,” he stutters, his eyes rolling back as he feels you start to cum with him. He presses his cock fully into you one last time, his cum spurting out in thick ropes until you’re full.
He’s panting, glasses fallen down to the tip of his nose, body trembling as he slowly starts to come down from the high. “Binnie,” you call him softly, and it’s not until he opens his eyes and looks at you again that what he said hits him like a ton of bricks.
He told you he loves you. While he was fucking you. He told you he loves you.
There’s no way to turn it out around as platonic in this scenario– it’s so fucking obvious how he meant it. To say he’s mortified is an understatement; and when he tries to speak, all that comes out are pathetic stutters, every explanation he wants to offer dying in his throat. Your eyes are watery as you look at him, and suddenly his throat feels impossibly dry, his hands clammy as he pulls out of you. 
He fucked up so bad. He ruined everything, he knows he did– this isn’t how he wanted to tell you, he wasn’t even ready to tell you. And now you know, and you’re looking at him with so much concern he feels like he’s going to shatter. Not anger, not sadness, but care– a care entirely different from what he’s seen on you before.
It’s pity, isn’t it? You don’t share the sentiment and you pity him for blurting it out like that. “You love me?” you ask him, your voice soft but cautious, unsure. “I..” Changbin tries again, but honestly he just wants to cry. Every emotion, every word, lodged in his throat and stuck, but still he tries to explain himself. “I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean-”
You’ve always loved Changbin. Since the early days of your friendship, you’ve loved him. How could you not? You’d never met someone as sincere as him, his every action so affectionate and caring. A gentleman through and through, always making sure the people he loves are taken care of, always the first to offer a helping hand when someone is in need. 
But you’d given up on the idea that you could have something more so long ago– and becoming friends with benefits with him told you that he didn’t love you romantically. He was the first to offer, and people don’t offer that arrangement if it risks their feelings getting exposed; so he didn’t love you that way, you were certain. 
You told yourself you were okay with that. You were done with relationships, so tired of having your heart broken after pouring all of your love and faith into someone. And sure, you’d be heartbroken again when Changbin inevitably decides to move on, but at least it was a heartbreak you accepted would come, you’d be ready for it– that’s what you always told yourself.
But he loves you? Like, is in love with you? And he’s mistaking your surprise, your teary eyes, your struggle to wrap your head around the fact that he loves you as much as you love him as rejection. You can see it in the panic in his eyes, the way he stumbles over his words, the tremble in his voice– he thinks you don’t love him. 
How could he ever think you don’t love him? 
“Changbin, I-” you try again, and somehow the fact that you’re using his full name hurts worse; it's like a confirmation that you’re done with him, with this. It’s irrational, but the part of his brain that’s trying to talk sense into him is drowned out by the panic and fear of rejection, as if he can protect himself from the pain by accepting the fact that you don’t love him now before you say it out loud. 
“I need- I need a minute, I’m so sorry,” he blurts out, because even though he knows it’s coming, he can’t bear to hear it yet. He scrambles up from the sofa, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill as he rushes back to his room. He falls to his bed, burying his face into his pillows and lets out a trembling breath. 
Tomorrow.. He can’t avoid this, knows he needs to accept it sooner rather than later, but for this tiny moment, at least until tomorrow, he’s still yours.
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Changbin isn’t avoiding you. At least, not on purpose– he just hasn’t gathered the courage to leave his room yet. He feels a bit like a hypocrite; he prides himself on his communication skills, and yet in the face of an honest conversation and acceptance of rejection, he flounders. Is he pathetic? You’d have every right to think so. 
Are you going to move out now? Should he? No, he should stop beating around the bush and just talk to you. You’re not in love with him, but you do love him– and that’s supposed to be enough, he told himself so many times that it is. 
You can work past this, can’t you? It has to be possible. He just doesn’t want to lose you, even if it breaks his heart he can take not having you romantically, is totally fine without the sex– but losing you as a friend? He can’t bear that.
He sighs, covering his face with his hands as he lies in his bed. He slept like shit, and he’s sure you didn’t fare much better– a thought that adds to the guilt he feels. But fuck, he needs to face this. The only thing that would be worse than losing you as a friend because being friends with benefits blew up in his face would be losing you because he was a spineless coward. 
Changbin grabs his phone, checks the time– it’s still early in the morning, but you’re usually awake by now. With another sigh to steel himself for what’s to come, he gets up from his bed and faces his door. He takes a breath, another attempt to calm his nerves, and walks to his door, quickly twisting the knob and pulling it open. 
“Oh!” you squeak in surprise, jumping where you stand before him. Changbin jumps too, with his own little shout of surprise coming out. How long were you standing outside of his door? Were you trying to work up the nerve to talk to him too? You blink at one another for a moment, and to Changbin’s relief, you’re the first to crack, letting out a little giggle. 
He giggles too, and though it’s a bit awkward given what happened late last night, it’s a relief that you’re not mad at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Changbin explains through his giggles, and God, your smile is so cute. You cover your mouth as you try to stop giggling, eyes crinkling and sparkling as you look at him, “No, no! It’s my fault for standing outside your door like this.” 
It eases him, feels more like the normal he’s used to with you– the normal he hopes and prays you can still share after this. “Can I come in?” you ask him, and of course he lets you, stepping to the side so you can enter his room. Your body language is still relaxed, but when you look at him again, your expression is serious.
Part of him worries that the lighthearted moment you just shared was a lapse in judgment on your part, and that you’re about to chew him out for running away last night– not that he wouldn’t deserve it if you did. But what you actually end up saying is a much stronger shock to his system. “Why do you think I don’t love you?”
“Wh-What? I-I.. I don’t-” Changbin stutters, blinking at you in utter shock, not even entirely sure how to respond.
“Because I do. I love you so much, Seo Changbin. The idea that you think I don’t hurts me,” you tell him, entirely sincere. That’s the part of his impromptu confession that kept you up at night, the part that upset you? Not that he loves you when he shouldn’t, or that your friendship might be ruined?
“If you think you’re not enough for me, you are– if you think you aren’t deserving of love, you are. Tell me what it is, so I can make sure you never question how much I love you again. Okay? I need you to promise me that.”
Changbin blinks, frozen, a million thoughts and emotions running through him. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t know the answer. There was such a big chunk of his life where he wasn’t happy with himself– the way he looked, the soft parts of his personality, his desires that felt so grandiose and impossible.. 
He thought he had to live to what other people expected him to be, that it was the only way they would love him. It took him years of effort, of stumbling and falling and getting back up to get where he is now. More confident in his body, in the way he walks through the world, in the love he pours into his family and friends.
But there’s that part of his old self that still lingers– a part that calls to him late at night, that makes him question if he’s allowed to be this happy. That reminds him it’s still there when he’s weak and unsure, that crawls up his spine whenever you smile at him, that won’t let him believe that you could love him. 
Changbin isn’t the same lanky, insecure boy he was when he first met you, but maybe he is. He looks different than he did then, but maybe that part of him is still there, underneath the built up muscle and maturity. Maybe it always will be, maybe there’s no way to ever make it go away– but maybe he doesn’t need to.
He thinks of all the times you were there for him, from the very first day you met. How you always encouraged him to do what makes him happy, how you supported him through his every decision to better himself. 
“I think you’re perfect the way you are, but if going to the gym would make you feel better about yourself, you should do it!” you told him when he brought up the topic of trying to bulk up and fill out his body. “You’re so adorable Binnie, seriously, how can you be so cute?” you grinned, pinching his cheeks the first time aegyo slipped out in front of you. 
No matter which version of himself he showed you, you loved him. Each part, no matter how different and against expectations, you cared for. And even with all the work he put into himself, there was still the part of him that tried to change in his romantic and sexual relationships. Trying to live up to what he thought his partners wanted, trying to adapt himself to them. 
But so effortlessly, you dismantled the expectations he put upon himself. All the times you called him sexy and adorable in the same breath, made him believe that he could be both at the same time– that he could be manly and intimidating, sweet and loving, sexy and cute all at once, and it was all still genuinely him, all worthy of love.
Maybe it’s impossible to shove insecurity completely aside; it’s likely that it’ll always linger. Even when it’s small, and tucked away, and very nearly forgotten, it’ll be there, waiting. And maybe that’s okay, because when you have someone who loves you as you are, who reassures you and listens to you and comforts you, it’ll start to fade back out as naturally as it came in.
“I don’t know why,” he answers honestly, his bottom lip starting to quiver. His best guess is that his fear of losing someone he loves so much expounded upon his underlying insecurities, made them flare to the point that he felt like he could drown in them. 
“I just know that I love you. And I need you, and not like- not like that, I just- ..I never want to be without you,” he continues, refusing to get choked up by his emotions and let it stop him from saying what he needs to. “And I promise- I’ll tell you, anytime I’m unsure of myself, I’ll tell you.” 
You step closer to him, reach up and cup his face in your hands, rub the tears that threaten to fall from the corners of his eyes with your thumbs. His heart skips a beat when you smile sweetly at him, when you lean towards him to press a soft kiss to his lips, to tell him you love him. “You said I was perfect,” you say as you kiss him again, and then again, “but so are you. You’re the loveliest person I’ve ever known.”
You press more kisses over his face, complimenting each feature as you go. His deep, dark eyes that can be so piercing or so soft depending on the situation. His full cheeks, so cute and endearing when they’re pink from a blush, but so handsome and complimentary to his face. His downturned smirk when something amuses him that can easily turn into a fully bright upturned smile when he’s happy, and makes his nose scrunch adorably. 
“Honey,” he breathes in a soft whine, unsure of what to do with all the excess affection. You guide him back to his bed, crawling atop him when he falls back against it, continuing your trail of kisses down his neck. “You deserve this,” you tell him, smiling against his skin when you feel him squirm beneath you, “deserve it all, and more.”
Changbin brings one of his hands to the back of your neck when you pull back to look at him, bringing you back down to him so he can kiss you. He doesn’t want to hold back anymore, to try and hide how badly he needs you. He kisses you like a man starved, hungry and desperate. His desire is carnal, every inch of him aching for your attention. 
Your hands sweep over his torso, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging at it. He gets the hint, and separates from you so you can take it off him. He watches you remove yours too, heart thumping in his chest as you reach behind you to unhook your bra. He tries to lean up to kiss you again when you’re finished, but you push him back down.
He whines at first, but quickly swallows it down when you smile at him in that pretty way that makes his stomach flare with butterflies, his cock twitching as it hardens beneath you. Your hands travel his body, compliments about each and every inch of him freely falling from your lips. His arms, thick and warm and comforting. His chest, so strong and beautifully sculpted. His stomach, soft and cute, as perfect as the rest of him. 
You kiss him too– everywhere your fingers touch, your lips follow. Soft, tender, overwhelming– his heart is beating so fast and hard, all your words, touches, and kisses make his blood feel like molten lava, every inch of him unbearably hot. It chokes him up too, how sweet you’re being to him; you’ve doted on him plenty of times, but never like this.
You take one of his hands in yours next, bring it up to your lips to press achingly soft kisses to it. The palm first, and then his wrist, before you turn it over to kiss his knuckles. You kiss the tip of each of his fingers, and his breath hitches as he watches you, goosebumps erupting all over him when you gently put it down and pick up his other hand to repeat the actions. 
You treat him with so much reverence, shower him with more love than he knows what to do with. He’s trembling with emotion, aching with desire, overwhelmed by how much he loves you, how beautiful you look. He’s going to cry– seriously, he doesn’t know how much more he can take before tears start spilling out of him. 
“Honey, please-” Changbin whines, and to his relief, you pause to look at him. “Please, I- let me make you feel good, please? I want to, I- I want to show you how much I love you too,” he begs. You intended to take care of him, to shower him in affection until you inevitably made him cum, but you meant it when you said you can never deny him his desire to be sweet to you.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” you say, and you watch as he chews on his bottom lip, face heating up further as he considers what to say. He knows what he wants, he’s thought about it so many times– it’s just the admitting and asking for it part that makes him a little shy. Still, you treat him so well, and you always indulge him, so.. The only thing to do is just go for it. 
“I want.. Want you to sit on my face. Please? Please, please sit on my face,” he begs, and God, that has to be the sexiest thing he’s ever begged for. It makes your stomach flip, and if your legs weren’t straddling him, you definitely would’ve clenched them together. Lifting yourself off him, you make quick work of the remainder of your clothes. 
Changbin scoots down the bed, so your legs will have more room when you return to him, chucking his glasses away, not nearly enough care in him for where they land. He looks at you, with a devastatingly sweet and bashful smile, his arms reaching out to help you when you start to settle above him. Your knees on either side of his head, he wraps his arms around your thighs. 
The latter half of his face is obscured by your body hovering over him, but looking down, you can see his eyes, sparkling with eager excitement as he keeps your gaze. You lower yourself just a little, nervous to sit your entire weight on his face and suffocate him, but Changbin doesn’t want you to hover, he wants you to sit. 
So using the arms he has wrapped around you, he pulls you fully down to him. You gasp– partly because of the surprise, and partly from the feeling of his tongue meeting your pussy. He focuses on your hole first, lapping up all the slick that drips out of you before he drags his tongue up to your clit, licking in a long, fat stripe.
He wraps his lips around it, sucking and flicking it with his tongue until you're writhing above him before he alternates back to licking you up, bottom to top, drinking all you offer. You bury your fingers in his curly hair, and he moans when you tug on it. He squeezes your trembling thighs, letting out happy hums whenever you moan for him.
He sticks out his tongue and lays it flat for you when you start to roll your hips, letting you grind against his face and use him however you see fit to. You shiver when your clit bumps against his nose, your breaths becoming harsher as you drive yourself closer to release on his tongue.
“Oh bunny, you’re so good to me, so good, ‘m gonna cum for you,” you cry, voice whinier than you would’ve otherwise liked it to be, but the way Changbin whines eagerly in response tells you how much he loves it. A few more rolls of your hips, and you’re cumming, your thighs squeezing around his head as you keep a tight grip on his hair to keep yourself steady. 
Changbin enthusiastically laps up your release, continuing until you're squirming and whining from the sensitivity. He loosens his hold on your thighs when you do, letting you lift your leg over his head and fall to the side of the bed a little ways away from him. Both of you are breathless, but Changbin is the first to recover, and when he does he sits up and crawls over to where you landed.
He grabs your face, gently, of course, and pulls you into a kiss. His face is slick with your essence, and you can taste yourself all over his lips and tongue. “You looked so pretty,” he tells you softly between kisses, “You’re so gorgeous when you cum for me.” He carefully spreads your legs and slots himself between them, sliding his tongue around yours as he does. 
“Want to give you my cock now,” he breaths, pulling away just enough to look at you with those eager, pleading eyes that make you weak. “Want to keep making you feel good, want to- want to watch your eyes roll back when I make you cum again.” 
“Sweet boy,” you coo, spreading your legs wider for him, offering yourself to him, “do it, baby. Give it to me.”
He kicks off the remainder of his clothes in record time, taking his cock in his hand and spreading the dribbling pre-cum over his length until it’s completely wet. You’re more than ready for him, but he’s as careful with you as always, pushing each inch inside slowly. 
You reach out to him and pull him down to you, kissing him hard and sweet, drinking in the whimper he lets out when he’s fully inside you. His entire body is trembling, still worked up from all the attention you gave him and sensitive from fucking you just last night. There’s a part of him that still feels vulnerable too, but he’s safe with you, and he knows you always will be. 
He loves you well, but you love him better; and he’ll spend every moment he has showing how much he appreciates you. He doesn’t need to prove his worth, doesn’t need to do anything apart from be himself– the love you’ve given him has shown him that. You understand him, better than anyone ever has. 
You love him, you always have, long before who he is now, and will continue to long into the future. All he has to do to repay all you’ve given him is love you. Love you honestly, openly, freely– because he’s enough as he is.
When he starts to move his hips, you both moan, Changbin just the slightest bit louder than you. He tucks his arms under your shoulders and pulls you closer to him, chests touching as he steadily builds a faster pace. He’s squeezing you in his arms, whining in your ear about how good you feel around him.
He’s so high-strung and sensitive that he doesn’t think he’ll last long, but oh, is he going to try. But shit, he’s still so emotional too– he thought he would’ve recovered by now, but it keeps hitting him in waves. And when you kiss him, it makes him dizzy– not just with lust and desire, but with passion, adoration.
The way he looks down at you when he pulls away takes your breath away, so sentimental and loving. You take his face into one of your hands again, and it takes everything in him to not get choked up again. Your love is his greatest comfort, but it also makes him ache– because no one has ever loved him as sincerely as you do. 
“Do you need to stop?” you ask him tenderly, once again wiping the tears from his eyes. His heart feels like it’s going to burst from all the emotion, but he quickly shakes his head, offering you a sincere smile, “N-No, no, I’m fine! I just- I really love you,” he admits, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips to show you he means it.
“And besides, I might go actually insane if I don’t fuck you, cause seriously, how are you so fucking sexy?” he follows up. “Oh, shut up,” you giggle, playfully slapping his arm. “This is supposed to be about you, you know? My sweet bunny and how perfect he is- maybe I need to remind you?” 
Changbin curiously tilts his head at your words as you lock your legs around him and using what strength you have, and with the help of gravity and momentum, you force him to roll to his side, and then to his back. You smile down at him, your roles easily flipped, while he stares up at you, mystified and easily the most turned on he’s ever been. 
“Oh-” is all he manages to utter, his cock throbbing furiously inside you. He could’ve easily fought it– he’s physically much stronger than you, after all. But he just loves when you force him into the positions you want, loves to be malleable and pliant for you. 
You plant your hands firmly on his chest, bouncing on his cock fast, the sound of your thighs slapping together just barely louder than Changbin’s obscenely loud whimpers. “Oh God, ‘m gonna cum,” he whines desperately, too wound up and sensitive to resist it, his hands clutching at the bedsheets so hard his knuckles have turned white, “please, please, please, can I, please? Please, let me cum.” 
“I love you so much, Binnie, want you to cum for me,” you tell him, bringing one of your hands to your clit so you can cum with him, the way he always loves to. It causes you to squeeze tighter, and he gasps, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he trembles. “Give it to me, baby, be a good boy and cum for me.”
He does just as you ask, a messy string of “I love you”s falling from his lips until he’s too far gone to keep talking, tears streaming down the sides of his face as his eyes roll to the back of his head, and then close. His noises are high-pitched and pornographic, his entire body shaking with the intensity of his cum spilling inside you.
His vision is blurry when he starts to blink open his eyes, but soon enough you come back into focus above him, looking down at him affectionately. He smiles at you, a goofy, sweet one that makes you giggle. He wraps his arms around you and drags you down to him, pressing kisses to your lips over and over again. 
Changbin tells you everything he’s wanted to this entire time as he does; how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, how he can’t imagine his life without you in it. He blushes when you do the same, while once again making him promise he’ll tell you if doubt ever starts to creep up on him. 
The journey to loving yourself isn’t easy; it’s a long winding road, uneven and easy to stumble on. But when he falls, you’ll be there to catch him. You’ll remind him how loved he is, the value he has simply in being, how he brightens every day you share just by existing. 
You’ll always be here, growing older with him, supporting him as he continues to grow and change, each experience turning him into a newer version of himself. And in every change, in every season of his life, you’ll continue to love him. Always.
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maniculum · 5 months
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One of the things I’ve noticed working in a bookstore is that a surprising number of people are completely unfamiliar with the normal way books are organized.
(I mean, in the part of the store where we keep the used books, I frequently have to assure people that the books are organized at all, but that’s because we have way more books than we have shelf space and there’s no way to handle that without it looking a bit of a mess.)
On one hand, we get customers who are apparently a completely blank slate in this area. I frequently have to walk people through, like, “Okay, it’s organized by subject / genre, then by author. Oh, ‘by author’ means in alphabetical order by the name of the author. No, their last name.” (Most of the people I give this talk to are, I think, college kids — it’s a bit strange to me that you can reach that age without knowing how bookstores work, but then again, I can kind of see how these days it’s possible to mostly get your books online where you just use a search function.)
One customer responded to the above explanation with “oh, it’s the Dewey Decimal System!” and I had to be like… no. Similar in broad concept, yes, but the Dewey Decimal System is a very specific thing (involving… decimals) and it’s really only used in libraries, not bookstores, because it kind of requires you to label the spines of your books, which bookstores generally don’t like to do for obvious reasons.
On the other hand, we also get customers with pre-existing incorrect assumptions, which are so often similar that I think they’re being imported from other media (though I’m not sure what).
People seem to expect the organization of Fiction to be much more granular — e.g., “where’s historical fiction?” “oh, that’s just in with general fiction.” I think some of that comes from movies (people ask where the “rom-com” section is, and that’s definitely a movie thing), but I’m not sure that’s always the reason.
(Admittedly the fiction organization is a bit more granular in the Used Books area than it is in the New Books, but that’s because there are certain genres that we get tons of from people selling us their old books, but we don’t buy enough of on purpose to justify giving them their own section in New Books.)
At the same time, people have the opposite assumption about Non-Fiction — i.e., they expect there to be one singular section labeled “Non-Fiction”, which is not the case. I’ve had multiple conversations that go like:
Customer: Where can I find non-fiction books?
Me: You’ll have to be more specific.
Customer: You know, non-fiction.
Me: [gesturing at the signs hanging from the ceiling that say things like “science”, “philosophy”, “art”, “history”, etc.] All of these are non-fiction in their own special way.
I try to be nice about it, but I don’t think I always succeed, just because I’m so often legitimately surprised and confused when someone just doesn’t know How Do You Books. I’m getting used to it now, but I’ve been working there for almost five years, so there’s been quite a long adjustment period in between.
Anyway. Just some observations.
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