#Prove it again bias

[coochiequeens]

This is why accurate information about sex and race is important. A study just gave a name to another way businesses pass over women for promotions and how women of color are impacted at greater rates.

Forget The Glass Ceiling, 'The Broken Rung' Is Why Women Are Denied Promotions

A new study finds Black women and Latinas in particular are the least likely to get that first promotion — and it’s not because they’re not asking for it.

by Monica Torres

Getting your first promotion into management is a huge achievement in your career. But a new study from consulting firm McKinsey & Co. and nonprofit Lean In shows it’s an opportunity that is not equally afforded to everyone. 

According to the study, which used pipeline data from 276 companies in the private, public and social sectors, women ― and women of color, in particular ― are the least likely demographic to get promoted from entry-level to first-time manager. 

For every 100 men promoted from entry-level contributor to manager in the survey, only 87 women got promoted. And this gap gets wider for women of color: This year, while 91 white women were promoted to manager for every 100 men, only 89 Asian women, 76 Latinas and 54 Black women would get that same opportunity. 

“As a result of this broken rung, women fall behind and can’t catch up,” the study states.

It’s not because those women were not asking for it ― the study found that the women were asking for promotions at the same rate as their male peers. And it’s not because these women did not stick around long enough to be considered for the job ― the study found that they were no more likely to leave their company than their male peers. 

The main culprit to this “broken rung” in the career ladder? It’s what known as a “performance bias.”

Why women deal with the “broken rung” phenomenon.

Under a performance bias, men get promoted more because of their future potential, while women get judged on their past accomplishments and have their leadership potential doubted.

“Because women early in their careers have shorter track records and similar work experiences relative to their men peers, performance bias can especially disadvantage them at the first promotion to manager,” according to the study. 

This research aligns with the “prove-it-again bias” studies have found women face throughout their career: where they do more work in order to be seen as equally competent to their male peers. 

As for why it’s hardest for women of color to make that first leap into management? Workplace consultant Minda Harts, author of “The Memo: What Women of Color Need to Know to Secure a Seat at the Table,” said it’s because systemic biases and stereotypes cause women of color to be less trusted for the job. 

“This lack of trust can manifest in several ways, such as doubts about competence, commitment or ‘fit’ within a leadership role,” Harts told HuffPost. “When senior leadership is predominantly male and white, an unconscious bias might lead them to trust individuals who mirror their own experiences or backgrounds ... As a result, women of color may be disproportionately overlooked for promotions.”

The McKinsey study found that women of color surveyed this year were even less likely to become first-time managers in 2023 than they were in 2022.

Feminist career coach Cynthia Pong told HuffPost it’s because in tough financial times, companies often operate under a scarcity mindset and might see women of color as a bigger “risk” to promote when they are underrepresented in leadership. 

“We just had to go through layoffs, and we only have three [manager roles]. You can easily see how in times like that, it would just end up replicating these systems where we only trust and only give the benefit of the doubt to certain folks,” Pong said. “And it’s not going to be women of color.” 

That sends a dispiriting message to people who watch their peers advance while they get told they are still not ready.

“It’s even more frustrating and infuriating ... when you see that there is a pathway for others, but not for you. Because the injustice of it makes your blood boil,” Pong said.  

This should not be on women and women of color to fix. Employers should proactively take steps to make a clear promotion path for all. 

There is a lot of talk about the “glass ceiling” and the barrier women face that prevents them from becoming executives at the top. But this study illustrates that there is a more fundamental problem happening to women early in their career: the systemic bias that prevents women from being seen as a leader who can manage other people. 

“Our success must be something other than a solo sport,” Harts said. “We can’t promote and advance ourselves.”

For companies to be part of the solution, employers should be more transparent about how managerial promotions happen.

“Trust is enhanced when employees understand what is expected of them and what they can expect from their leaders,” Harts said. “This transparency can help mitigate unconscious biases or misconceptions about capabilities or trustworthiness.”

To break down stereotypes and build trust between employees of color and leadership, Harts also recommended companies to implement programs where women of color are paired with sponsors in senior roles. 

What you can do about this as an employee.

If you keep being told vague “no’s” after every promotion request, start asking more questions about what your peers are doing that you are not.

“They’re not going to admit to having a systemic problem. They’re going to say, ‘We just don’t have it in the budget,’” said Elaine Lou Cartas, a business and career coach for women of color. 

“I’ve seen people that got promoted to this where they are also doing the same amount as I was, but I was doing A, B and C. Help me understand,” is the kind of assertive framing you can use to ask more questions, Cartas said.

And if you find the goalpost of promotion metrics keeps moving after your conversation with your manager, that might be the time to start job hunting. 

“Once you already have that conversation, and nothing’s being done, or at least there’s no steps or actions for it to be done in the future, that’s when [you] could start looking,” Cartas said.

Ultimately, one missed promotion may not seem like a huge setback, but it adds up over time with lost wages and earning potential, Pong said. 

“And then that also ripples out generationally to all the families and family units that each woman of color is supporting, and then those to come,” she said. “So it seems like it might be like no big deal to have this person promoted one or two years later. But ... these things really snowball.”

#Glass ceiling #Broken rung #Women in the workplace #Women of color in the workplace #For every 100 men promoted only 89 Asian women 76 Latinas and 54 Black women would get that same opportunity #Prove it again bias #The Memo: What Women of Color Need to Know to Secure a Seat at the Table #Minda Hart's

[addictivewhispering]

unironically my litmus test for milan fans to see if i want to listen to their opinions is whether or not they respect giroud

people who do respect giroud can recognize his shortcomings but at the same time highlight his workrate and his passion. he's never been the best striker in the world but he always gives it 110% no matter the situation. and we know that this season is not any individual player's failure except maybe messias. i'm just being unserious tho, it's the failures of the management and the team as a whole

people who only want an excuse to shit on him are vastly oversimplifying things, as if it's somehow giroud's own fault that he's a starter and that there's no substance on the bench. and they also are (in my opinion) showing that they don't care about the people behind the results, and i really don't vibe with that kind of attitude

passion on its own doesn't win games, but you can't win games without passion. i will never understand those who choose to hate someone who gives their all for the club

#my demons #muri #i dont vibe w giroud hate in general at all for obvious bias reasons #this general sentiment applies to french/édf fans too. #he proved the french haters wrong and i hope we can bounce back next year for him to do it again #anyway 6am thoughts... i gotta sleep

[dawonstattoos]

kang chanhee... excuse me?

first of all, first glance i didn't think this was him. but its him and all i could say is... i knew this man was hiding abs underneath his clothes. him and park jinyoung. the two men who cover up 99.99% of the time just to kill their fans that 00.01% they don't

second, i just want to say thank you for this day and this photo because WOW. thank you for being the man that you are

third, why hasn't his abs seen the light of day since. and if they have, someone please direct me to them. i'd greatly appreciate it

if you want to watch the performance search up Hwiyoung and Chani's 010 Noob Con 2020 Performance! And listen to the song on Hwiyoung's Soundcloud (: you won't regret it

#what do you think you're doing? #cr: twitter @ chani daily #chani noob con '20 #010 performance #sf9 chani #sf9 noob con 2020 #sf9 chani performance #chani killing me #i just #i wanna know what was in the water he drank that day and when he got so bold #and why that beautiful body of his hasn't seen the light of day again #why arent fantasies talking about this #and this is the baby that gets shy when the rest of his members talk about 19+ #BUT HE DOES THIS #chani make it make sense #because it doesn't #but keep doing it #you and jinyoung can just keep killing me inside #i never thought chani would and then he went and proved me wrong #and here dawon was being the biggest bias wrecker of the 21st century #just for this one photo of chani to grab me by the neck and say #ugh #ya kang chanhee is a two year age gap okay if i'm older lolol #sf9 #sf9 live performance #kang chanhee #kang chani

[eggwhiteswithspinach]

👏 Disrupt “Prove It Again” Bias, and Other Actions for Allies

#Medium #Favourites #Reads #Recommends #Disrupt “Prove It Again” Bias #and Other Actions for Allies

[mariespen]

Who? ˳༄꠶

jealous!Rafe Cameron x fem!Reader ༄꠶ summary: “No way am I sending my girl on a study date with another man." warnings: very very mild sexual concepts, jealous Rafe

based on this request!

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Rafe Cameron was looking right at you with a death glare, the kind of look you’d pin on horrible people who were only doing horrible things. You’d think your boyfriend would understand that being in college requires unavoidable group work, which leads to unavoidable conversations with people you would much rather not know at all. Naturally, you were wrong. Devastatingly wrong.

“I don’t get it.” He said plainly for the fifteenth time that night, “You don’t even need this class if I’m honest.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to focus more on packing your things rather than the hole he was staring into your back.

“Don’t do that shit.. c’mon baby..” Rafe said, getting up to stand closer to you, a persuading hand on your hip, “M’working so hard to give you a life where you don’t gotta work and-“

“Rafe, we’ve talked about this too many times.” You cut him off in hopes to finally shut him up.

“Well why don’t we talk about it again,” He said, a tiny smile on his face, “Like right now? Over dinner?”

“Baby you know that my group members will kill me if I don’t pull through.” You shrugged past him, walking to put your shoes on.

You weren’t wearing anything near special. Sweatpants and one of Rafe’s oversized hoodies were all that you were planning on showing off. But in Rafe’s eyes, HE would fuck you in that, so who’s to say that no one else would? Naturally, he carries a heavy bias considering that Rafe would fuck you in anything, but he says ‘that’s not the point.’

“So what, you’re gonna spend all night with people you don’t even like?” He asked with a scoff.

You gave him an annoyed nod, trying to prove your point.

“That’s gotta be like.. bad for your uh.. mental health. You should stay in.”

“Rafe stop-“ You started before getting a ping on your phone. You groaned to finish the sentence, storming off to get your shoes on.

“What?” Rafe called after you, quietly shuffling behind before picking your phone up and looking at the recent notifications.

Connor: When r u getting here?

“Who’s this?” Rafe asked, pointing to the phone with a look of pure hatred in his eyes.

“One of my group members, love.” You said, trying to stifle a giggle over how protective he was over you.

“Another man? Absolutely not,” He said, turning away from you to block the door out of your shared apartment before continuing his rant, “No way am I sending my girl on a study date with another man. Who do you think-“

You pushed past him, backpack already slung over your shoulders as you made your escape to the front door.

“Nope.” He said plainly, grabbing the back of your bag and making you look at him, his fingers tracing your jaw and holding your eyes to his.

“Rafe..” You whined, but his touch was strict.

“You’re mine, baby. Not Connor’s, a’ight?” He said, brushing hair from your face.

“I’m yours.” You repeated, standing on your tip-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

His eyes softened and he thought he got you wrapped around his finger, pulling away to look at your flushed face. Instead, you darted to the door when his touch weakened, hand on the knob before Rafe could get another word in.

“Love you!” You said, closing it before everything caught up to him.

The group work went fine and almost exactly like you thought. A long session and a gut wrenching feeling of exhaustion afterwards. It’s never your favorite event but there were worse things that could happen. Things like walking back into your apartment after narrowly escaping your boyfriend’s possessive hand. 

You opened the door quietly, which was already unnecessary. Of course he was still wide awake, waiting for you like a father punishing his daughter for sneaking out. He was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and scowling at you.

“What the fuck?” He asked, getting up to meet you at the front door.

You shoved your shoes off, setting down your backpack and walking closer to Rafe. “M’tired baby..” You said, making every attempt to walk past the intimidating block he made in the hallway.

“No, no no.. this isn’t how it’s gonna work,” Rafe said, using both of his hands to hold your shoulders and forcing you to stand right in front of him as he lowered his voice, “Can’t just do that baby.. a’ight?”

“Sorry..” You whispered, breaking free of his hold on your shoulders and instead pulling yourself into him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.

You could feel the slightly annoyed laugh that bubbled from him, but you could also feel the chaste kiss that he left on the top of your head. Rafe’s soft spot for you would always shine through his anger. You let yourself melt into his arms while you contemplated falling asleep standing.

“C’mon..” He whispered into you, equally as tired from staying up and waiting for you to come back to him.

You felt him pick you up cautiously, kissing your cheek as you let your eyes start to close.

——————————————————————

The next morning was a beautiful Saturday, which of course was the day you woke up to about 15 messages from your project’s group chat. Somehow you managed to squirm away from Rafe’s death grip over your body to check your phone. Casual conversations relating to different parts of the project and other things that you wanted nothing to do with flashed across the screen.

Over your shoulder you heard Rafe groan and felt him reach for where you weren’t. He looked around for you, watching groggily as you typed out a response on your phone.

“Baby..” He trailed off, rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry.. group project.” You whispered, giving in and letting yourself melt back into his arms.

“At 9 in the morning?” Rafe mumbled into you, an annoyed sigh died in his throat when you ran your fingers through his hair.

Sleep clouded your mind as the two of you held each other close again. He wasn’t trying to show it, but his possessiveness and jealousy were leaking out of him like a faucet.

“G’morning princess..” You heard Rafe whisper from above you, brushing the lazy hair from your cheeks.

You groaned and shifted, trying to find the warmth in the bed now that Rafe had gotten up.

“Let’s get lunch, hm?” He asked, gently moving you to face him again.

You nodded, trying to nod away the urge to dive back under the blankets.

Getting ready wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, just because Rafe had already bought you the perfect outfit and you didn’t have to fight off your hair as much as you normally did. Whenever you got ready, Rafe would always finish before you and sit on the edge of the bed, admiring your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks would flush up and you could never get your blush right anymore because he somehow always had your face a pink shade of red.

Rafe grabbed your bag for you, a small purse that fit your pretty dress. He also went to get your phone from its shameful place at the bedside table because of course you had forgotten to charge it last night.

One text had lit up your screen and his eyes narrowed the moment he saw it was from Connor.

“Baby, why is Connor texting you?” He asked, walking to your spot in the bathroom and shoving the phone in your face to quickly get your attention.

You took the phone, opening the notification while Rafe watched from over your shoulder.

Connor: Hey, I have some ideas for the paper. You want to meet up to talk? I was thinking a Cafe or something.

You could feel the angry red heat of jealousy seeping out of Rafe’s body.

“I told you.” He said, taking the phone from you and staring at the message again, almost dumbfounded at Connor’s audacity.

“M’not going.” You said plainly, looking at him with a lightly apologetic look.

“Damn right you’re not.” He replied, throwing your phone onto the bed and looking at you with an angry glare staring down at your face.

You watched an idea form in his head. It was easily not anything good considering the way his lips turned up in a thin smile and his gaze moved between you and the phone in a heartbeat.

“Y’know.. I really don’t want my girl missn’ anything..” He trailed off, walking to where he threw your phone originally.

“Rafe..” You tried to protest, not fully understanding where his head was at.

“No.. I think I gotta be a good boyfriend here.” He nodded to himself before looking at you with an unforgettable smirk.

“Baby I don’t want to go.” You said, walking up to him and trying to read his cocky expression.

“You, go?” He asked with faux confusion, cocking his head to the side, “No no, you’ve got it all wrong.” 

Rafe stood up, taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles before looking back down at you. Now it was your turn to be confused, furrowing your eyebrows.

“You think I’m stupid, baby?” He mocks, kissing your up jaw and stopping by your ear, “M’gonna go in for you.”

Whatever hint of a smile you had on your face slowly disappeared as realization dawned on you.

“I think I’ll text him right now and let him know I’m on my way. Give him a nice surprise when he realizes it’s not the pretty little girl that he wants.” Rafe said slyly, pulling back with a malicious smile.

“Then he and I can really talk, hm?”

The next day, Connor dropped the class.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

#mariespen #outer banks #rafe cameron #obx fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #rafe drabble #rafe cameron blurb #jealous!rafe cameron #jealous rafe #obx x reader #outer banks imagine #obx fanfiction #obx

[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine Jason or Dick being jealous or pissed over Damian being a thirdwheel/cockblocked unintentionally with their gf lmao

That would be a funny sight to see. To make it worse, their gf loves spending time with Damian, viewing him as a smol tsundere cat-looking child that they want to kiss or nuzzle his cheeks whenever he's present lol. Of course with his consent.

Jason felt as though Damian had it out for him sometimes…

He couldn’t explain why as during the times that he did interrupt a sweet moment regarding you and him, they were few and far between for Jason to think that Damian was doing this coincidentally, but it happened too many times for him to count on one hand for it to not be apart of some grander scheme of his.

You however disagreed with that statement but Jason called you out on your bias towards his younger brother, meaning that your opinion was invalid.

You warned him that you wouldn’t cuddle him for a week if he tried that shit with you again…Jason was quick to concede to your demands because he honestly couldn’t live without your cuddles. But that didn’t change the fact that he truly believed that Damian not so secretly had it out for him, and it drove him to near insanity that he couldn’t prove it to you because Damian always acted prim and proper within your presence, clinging to your side from the moment you enter Wayne Manor up until you had to leave; all the wile acting like a demon spawn with him.

‘You feeling sleepy there chipmunk?’ Jason uttered softly upon noticing you trying your hardest to stay awake while mid-way through reading his book.

‘You’re being too comfortable Jaybirdie. I’m naturally going to fall asleep on you eventually.’ You murmured, snuggling closer into him to leech off of his warmth, pushing your head up so that it went from resting on his chest to resting against his shoulder and looking into his eyes. ‘Can I have a kiss?’ You asked. ‘What’s the magic word?’ Jason teased and when you pouted, he only chuckled and rested his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours. ‘I’m joking sweetheart, you can have all the kisses you want.’ He speaks lowly against your lips and just when he was about to kiss you, another voice spoke up from across the room.

‘Todd, l/n.’

‘Fucking- Jesus Christ.’ Jason flinched away from you and his eyes settled on Damian, who was stood at the end of the plush couch with a book of his own in hand, and asks. ‘Damian, what’re you doing here?’ You gave Jason a harsh nudge in the side along with a warning glare, only to visibly brightening upon seeing Damian. ‘Hi Damian! Don’t mind Jason he’s being a grump, would you like us to make room for you to sit down?’ Before Damian could get a word out you were already looking towards Jason and he groaned as he begrudgingly shifted to the other side of the couch.

‘Thank you l/n, I don’t know what Todd would be without your influence.’ Damian said as he took his seat in the space made available between you and Jason and cracked open his book that was filled with detailed descriptions of artists such as Claude Monet, John Constable and Jan Van Goyen just to name a few. ‘Unbelievable.’ Jason scoffed, looking anywhere other than you and Damian, impatiently tapping his finger against the arm on the couch for every second that Damian overstayed his welcome.

You however were thriving on the time you got with Damian as he showed you some of his favourite artists, telling you why that was while also information dropping interesting facts about art in general; You weren’t well versed in art and you weren’t claiming that you were but you silently thanked him for putting it into words that you could easily understand without feeling too out of your depth. After all it wasn’t very often that you visited the Wayne Manor but when you did, Damian was often the first -if not only- family member you wanted to see first and foremost.

‘You coddle him too much.’ Jason complained once after seeing you tightly hug Damian upon finding out he had come home from clearing a particularly dangerous mission all by himself. ‘I do not!’ You rebutted, crossing your arms. ‘Uh hate to break it to you chipmunk but you do in fact coddle him.’ Jason insisted, not liking the fact that he now had to share your attention with the little shit. ‘Then let’s ask him then.‘ you looked at your side where Damian was leaning against, minding his own business as he petted Alfred the cat’s black fur while the feline looked close to falling asleep. ‘Damian do I coddle you too much?’

Damian hummed as he looked into Jason’s eyes with a deadpan expression and said. ‘No you don’t, Todd’s just being jealous.’ And just like that he went back to petting Alfred the cat without a care to see the murderous look Jason was shooting him, all the while you were non the wise and were thrilled at the fact that Damian out right admitted to enjoying your company.

‘Isn’t he just the sweetest thing.’ You said to Jason who was gritting his teeth. ‘Oh ain’t he just.’ He spat and Damian smirked as he rested more of himself against you just to hear Jason growl. This was going to be a long weekend.

Dick Grayson didn’t mind Damian joining you at first, he even encouraged it purely out of the idea that Damian would get accustomed to your presence- thinking that it would form a bond between you- but Dick would soon learn that it would ultimately be his undoing.

‘Dick! Stop!’ You squealed as you poor attempts to push him away were dismissed as his hold on you tightened, pulling you further against him as he briefly put a stop to his bombardment of kisses to make a face of thought.

‘Hmmm let me think on that…I don’t think I will.’ He said as he continued to pepper kisses across your face to his heart content, all the while purposefully avoiding kissing your lips much to your growing dismay as you tried to steal at least one kiss from his lips, only to find yourself being unsuccessful in your many attempts.

‘Close but I appreciate a good attempt.’ Dick teased, pressing a kiss to your nose before cutely rubbing his nose against yours and choosing to keep his face close to your own, his lips becoming a smirk. ‘Though if a kiss is what you wanted, all you needed to do is ask and I would’ve happily obliged.’ He chuckled and pulled his face away when you tried to lean in for a kiss. ‘Stop pulling away.’ You whined and Dick couldn’t help but find it infinitely cuter when you tried to reach out to him, only for him to kiss the back of you hand before intertwine your fingers.

‘Then ask me to kiss you.’ He said. ‘Ask me to kiss you and then we’d both be happy.’ He adds on, not wanting to reveal how desperate he was for your sweet, sweet kisses just yet. However fate had other plans for him when Damian burst into the room and you had immeditly pushed Dick off of you so hard that he landed on the hard flooring of his bedroom.

‘Damian!’ You cheered. ‘How’s my favourite Wayne doing today?’

‘Your favourite?’ Dick groaned as he got up, rubbing his aching back as he looked over at the two of you, pouting. ‘I thought I was your favourite.’ Dick felt a little betrayed that you would easily discard him for his younger brother like you did, but knew that you meant nothing by it other then just raw excitement at seeing his younger brother after so long.

‘I’m doing well.’ Damian replied, giving you a small smile as he welcomed your tight hug before looking over at his older brother who looked like a kicked puppy. ‘Still putting up with Grayson and his dramatics?’ You dramatically slumped your shoulders. ‘It might as well be considered my full time job at this point.’ You joked, smiling upon hearing Dick’s gasp of disbelief.

‘I’ll have you know I am a delightful person!’ He defended himself, crossing his arms and looking away from you both. You and Damian shared a look. ‘Yeah a delightful pain in my ass.’ You whispered under your breath as you looked back at Dick while Damian smirked. ‘Are you still pouting?’ You asked.

‘Obviously!’ Dick exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air, ‘tonight was meant to be date night. Our night.’ He said, somehow managing to pout even further as he continued to glare as the opposing wall as though it had personally insulted him just now. ‘I’ll make it up to you so can you please quit with the dramatics.’ You said but Dick didn’t move and only huffed in response, showing that wasn’t good enough for him.

‘Wanna go for a walk Damian? Maybe that’ll help you with the lack of inspiration for your latest art piece?’ You then brought your attention back to the young man with the emerald eyes as he visibly perked up at the offer. ‘I could go for a walk.’ He replied and just before leaving the room he casted his eyes towards Dick. ‘What’s about him?’

‘Yeah what about him.’ Dick said sarcastically from his corner, causing you to look to the ceiling with a disbelieving smile upon your lips. ‘He can come but only on the condition that he stops being pouty.’ You said and for a minute it was silent until you felt a pair of strong arms at your waist and his face buried in your neck. ‘Only if we can go back to our regularly scheduled date night.’ Dick muttered against your skin. ‘Without Damian.’ He adds and you rub your hands over the back of his reassuringly. ‘Certainly my little dickie bird. No need to get jealous of your little brother now. It’s not a good look on you.’ You teased him this time and dick groaned. ‘Only when you stop encouraging his behaviour.’ He said.

You scoffed. ‘Says the one who was all for us having a bond.’

‘And I’ve learnt my lesson.’ Dick retorted. ‘There’s only room for one person in your heart and it’s me and I’m not sharing.’ You cooed as you pressed a kiss to his temple. ‘Careful there, you almost sound possessive.’ You taunted him, having way too much teasing him and giving him a taste of his own medicine.

‘So what if I am?’ Dick asked.

‘Then I’d say that you have nothing to worry about,’ you reassured him, picking one of his hands from your waist and kissing it before allowing it to go back to your waist, ‘you’ll always be my number one dickie bird.’

It was sad that date night didn’t go to plan but by the end of the night you, Dick and Damian were fast asleep on the couch with Dick flat on his back and holding you against his chest, while you held Damian against your chest and Damian cuddling up to the both of you and holding onto you tightly; deathly afraid of letting go but his grip going completely slack upon falling asleep.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dc x y/n #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

[saltburnedme]

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again

Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)

You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.

‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.

‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.

‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.

You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.

The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.

You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.

‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.

‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?

‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.

‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.

‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.

‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.

‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.

‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.

‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.

Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.

‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.

Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.

Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.

You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.

Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.

‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.

‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.

‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.

‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.

‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.

‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.

‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.

‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.

‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.

Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.

‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.

His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.

‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.

‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.

Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.

‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.

‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.

‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.

‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.

‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.

Tag list - @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirl @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey

#barry keoghan #oliver quick #barry keoghan smut #oliver quick smut #druig smut #druig x female reader #druig x reader #druig x y/n #oliver quick fanfic #oliver quick x reader #barry keogan x reader #druig fanfiction #druig imagine #michael gavey smut #felix catton #felix catton smut #oliver quick x reader smut #saltburn smut #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn #saltburn oliver #michael gavey

[saltypiss]

Perspective, Interpretation.

Big Boy probably had a very specific meaning, probably negative, and over time, people are born who never know of the specific meaning, but like the sound of it and wanna say it. Their own perspective is attached to it. Whatever it had before is meaningless to this person. Especially because the negative is so stupid, that obviously your nebulous is better.

What’s dumb is to treat that person as if they are fully informed of, and are apart of, some nebulous negative group, For 2 reasons:

One is it’s just childish and rude. Anyone above 12 coulda guessed that one.

The second is it was one of many multiple hundreds of thousands of millions of chances to take away the negative. You hurt what you want to defend because then you can’t defend anymore. You lose an aspect of yourself you don’t want to lose, and due to that, growth is haulted, selfishly.

I understand some people saying they can’t emotionally depart from the negative given the history they personally experienced. Not of the past itself, it is irrelevant to those born after the fact, as with all forms of art, which in of itself is humanity and humanity based, it is interpretative. To it’s core, to it’s face value. Both or neither. However for society to improve and grow, it can’t stop just due to a negative of any value. It’s why trigger warnings are insulting and degrading, to the point of treating mentally injured people like spoiled children. It stops progress for them and everyone else because it normalizes not growing and healing. It normalizes that you don’t have to grow, because this is your life now. Cradled.

When someone says “Jap” I assure you, nobody would be caught dead using it’s old fashioned language, and not a soul today would assume it meant anything but a language version for some media. Yeah you thought we were talking the big ol’ N, well we can but there’s no point, people have made up their mind, they want a word that’s negative for black people, all sides. Dunno why but hey, ya’ll want it, go for it! Words are interpretive art. Like with all art, you have to learn it’s core and subtleties, while that can include it’s history, apart of art is seeing the subject in a vacuum, no bias or history, just you, and it.

And some most people, really want another way to hate black people, and see no value in devaluing that aspect, despite multiple fucking attempts. But whatever, idiots gonna idiot.

What people need to grow up and learn to do, is detach an entire assumed culture to words, and hand gestures, like please. Dear god. The Okay symbol being racist was a fucking meme, it was meant to get idiots to believe it, and it worked, it worked like the feminazi bullshit of old times. Oh yeah, same people, 4chan, dear god.

Lemme put it to you this way. Your color of red is different to mine, there is no way to prove otherwise, it’s red to you and me, but your red is different just due to difference in the biology of our eyes, and interpretations of our minds, and our personal perspective of that mental interpretation. Really we’re all just tripping balls and barely able to have the world in view as we do. We aren’t as sharp or fast paced as we’d like. Certainly unable to understand our minds, and to say you do, is an absolute admission that you really don’t.

Within this same logic, is art, art is literally human made, your dog doesn’t look at something and go “Oh this is too beautiful, I can’t even.” and that’s nothing on the dog, we’re just stupid and like pretty shit. So we give it meaning, or, our brains give it meaning that we interpret from there.

Art is man-made ideas. That is all. And thus, words are art. Your version of red is different than mine. In fact, what you immediately think of when Red is said is not only different to me, but different to you mere moments ago, in fact your immediete interpretation is now different to the current interpretation. But intrinsically, it means nothing. We can take the abstract then give it a personal meaning that someone else simply won’t be able to cognitively connect, but have their own personal meaning none-the-less.

For you to HAVE to make an entire culture become a single person for you to go off on because a single word was uttered that you personally disagree with... I mean like... you understand that’s not...okay...right? It’s not normal either. It’s why despite how fucking stupid religion is, you don’t have the right to personally shit on someone for their religious beliefs. There is literally no one version of god to anyone. They all have a god that’s simply a human with too many powers to handle.

But to dismiss someone on those grounds, to dismiss them on their interpretation of (x) is simply embarrassing. I’ll gladly shit on the entire idea and ideology and how some of the people operate and that in general I think it’s a bit deluded and embarrassing, but I know they think the literal exact same to me and others, and don’t think less of me or my ideas for it, they simply go along with it, because at the end of the day, ignorance, is just another interpretation. Their own ignorance of my beliefs and how I feel is an interpretation they maturely take in. But being a dick and trying to force your beliefs onto others, it’s certainly an interpretation, but it’s one that speaks volumes to how you interpret other people.

For that same line of reasoning, the way you interpret the art of language, including specifically only caring enough about a handful to keep within the negative space, I cannot, for the life of me, understand how that is socially acceptable.

I’m not sorry to say, I haven’t seen anything in the 25 years I’ve been around to say any of the words we treat as negatives ever truly needed nor need to be. Why not be adults, take that step FORWARD, and let interpretation take hold, and not our interpretation be treated as the forefront.

#It's hard to avoid doing this shit just so everyone is clear #everyone has an unconscious bias #what makes you grow up into an adult is realizing that failure and doubling down on doing what you believe is right despite not knowing #from the feeling within that it's truly the right thing #Not everytime you feel a negative feeling does it mean it's wrong #it's why people hate the gays and such #they get a weird feeling and immaturely lash out to avoid confronting the feeling within #they refuse to do the right thing because they cognitively refuse to fight their kneejerk reactions #it's childish and why people should start calling out the embarrassment that is people acting like children #it's hard to explain to someone who's not had that cherry pop of a cognitive breakthrough #ones that don't challenge themselves mentally #but boy howdy it's really one of those things that you have to ask #how sheltered #or how unabused were you #I was 13 maybe 14 when I really had to put forth that effort #how at anywhere above that are you even alive #there I go again #proving my point #but still the frustration is needed sometimes

[itsbeeble]

NO BITCHES?

SUMMARY: When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

GENRE: smut, fluff, crack, mild angst

PAIRING: Eric Sohn x afab!reader (ft hak, sunwoo, sunwoo's gf, and sangyeon)

WC: 10.5k (there go my plans of proving Ally wrong)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: um... okay so virgin!eric, kinda dom!reader, eric's a fucking loser, reader kinda makes fun of him at first for being a virgin, reader kinda teaches eric about everything from kissing to uh...yeah, dry humping, kissing, making out, oral (m and f receiving), eric cums in his pants, eric plays fnaf, um...public making out? public fingering?, multiple orgasms, eric goes from little virgin boy to I TOLD YOU WE NEEDED MORE GLITTER real fast, sunwoo slander, sunwoo's annoying in this idk, eric's a dumb gamer boy who needs desperate help from the boy who concussed his gf (cough sunwoo), slight bit of miscommunication?, eric cries (ummmm dacryphilia?), reader also cries (again...dacryphilia?), edging el oh el, sunwoo and. reader know the importance of CONSENT, i think that's all the important stuff

A/N: I'm never gonna beat the allegations... ally will always think i bias eric. Anyway, happy birthday to my little munchkin princess eric sohn 🥰🥰

Eric was practically shaking as he approached you. Scratch that, he was definitely shaking but he could blame the ripples covering the drinks in his hand on the pumping base. It thrummed in his veins, or maybe that was his pulse steadily increasing when he locked eyes with you.

You. His gorgeous, intelligent, perfect…

Lab partner. You were his lab partner and at that very moment, nothing more. At least, not in your eyes. Eric, though? He was enamored by you. The way you laugh, the teasing grin when he does something wrong and you scold him, the way your body looks in that dress—

“Hi.” You look away from your friends and face him, a curious look on your face. He’s starting to feel warm. Was it warm in here? He thinks he’s starting to sweat, and can feel something drip down the back of his neck.

“Hi…?” Your hands are empty, and Eric forces himself not to jump up and down with glee that he doesn’t have to make the excuse of having two drinks for himself. 

“I’m— Do you—” He stutters, and heat begins to spread from his neck to his cheeks as your friends giggle. You just smile. A kind smile that has his body slowly relaxing the more he looks at your face. “Do you wanna drink— I mean— fuck, I meant do you want a drink. Not— not do you wanna drink— I mean that could—  that is also a question, but—”

More laughter from your friends and Eric suddenly thinks he’s gonna throw up all over you, your dress, and his nice white button-up shirt that he’d forced Sangyeon to iron for him. 

“Thank you, Eric.” You say, reaching for the cup in his left hand. Your fingers brush against his, and his knees begin to wobble visibly. Your smile disappears into a concerned frown, and suddenly Eric’s attention is on your lips. He isn’t paying attention to his surroundings anymore. Can’t find himself caring that your friends are still laughing at the scenario, nor that you shoo them away. 

“Eric?” Your hand waves in front of his face, effectively catching the boy’s attention. “Are you okay?”  

“Yeah!” Eric says it far too quickly, knowing immediately that you don’t believe him. Fortunately, one of his many charms is that he’s very good at lying to people. “I’m perfectly fine. Why do you ask?” 

You giggle, and it’s the sweetest sound that he’s ever heard.

“You just— you seem a little uncomfortable right now.” You lean close to him, scanning his face under the flashing lights. You can hardly make out his features under the colors. Blue, purple, red, white, green, yellow. All the colors under the rainbow covered his face and changed every few seconds. When they flashed white, you swear you can see a flush in his cheeks. 

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” He leans toward you with a sudden surge of confidence that has your heart pounded a bit. “Why would I ever be uncomfortable around the most beautiful girl in the building?”

And there it is, folks, you think. Your eye twitches, something so subtle that Eric fails to catch it. The irritation, the disappointment. 

“Ah, I see.” You grimace, and Eric begins to panic again. 

“What— did I upset you?” He asks, and you roll your eyes. 

“Eric, if you wanna get into my pants you’re gonna have to try better than that.” 

Eric’s heart drops to the floor, his face flushing even more as he begins to panic. He stutters, he tries to backtrack, he tries to explain himself. You, however, are hearing none of it. Not a single word that comes out of his mouth reaches your ears. 

“Stop, Eric.” You snap and his mouth snaps shut. “Just…Just stop.” 

You set the cup he’d given you down on the table, and he stares at it dumbly while you storm away to find your friends again. The amber liquid in the cup sloshes with the base echoing around it and the loud noise of partygoers around him. 

He watches it spill over the lip of the cup, and then sets his own cup down next to it, turning around to return to the party but the weight of crushing rejection sits uncomfortably on his chest. 

It’s two days later when you see Eric again. Monday morning, an 8AM Physics lecture that no one wants to be in. Two weeks into the semester, and almost twenty people had already dropped the class. He walks in with a black hat covering his head, and a white tee shirt covering his torso. It’s certainly not clothing suitable for the cold air of early February, but he’d been unable to do his laundry over the weekend due to the parties on Friday and Saturday and the neverending clean-up that occurred on Sunday. 

He spots you, tucked well into the second row, and his eyes light up. Yours, on the other hand, narrow. You keep your gaze on him while he makes his way up to you as quickly as possible, hoping to have a chance to talk to you before the lecture begins. 

“Hey,” he grins at you, gently setting his bag on the chair to his left and turning to face you. Your eyes are still narrowed with suspicion. “How was your weekend?” 

How was your weekend? It’s as if the both of you hated that question; one of you cringing with something close to disgust, the other with something like horror. Is he stupid?

“It was fine,” you tell him curtly. Eric frowns, leaning back in his chair when you turn your gaze to the front. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He blurts out, and your shoulders sag. Was that the wrong thing to ask? Did he do something wrong?

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” You hiss out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He opens his mouth to speak, but he has a hard time finding the words. What is he even supposed to say? What if you think he’s an asshole for not knowing what was wrong? What if you never smile at him again?

“I— honestly I really don’t know!” You scoff and Eric sits up, leaning forward on the table to get a better view of your face. You can see the pout, see the way his eyebrows knit together in what you can only assume is faux confusion. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he did.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You look at him fully now and watch the way his body recoils from the words. Hurt, confusion. No anger. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Eric Sohn angry in the two years you’d shared classes with him. 

“What— what did I even do?” The professor walks in, and he hushes his voice. “I can’t fix things if I don’t know what I did wrong!”

“That’s your own damn fault then, isn’t it?” You click your pen, and Eric shuts up. You almost feel bad, carefully watching as he takes out his own notebook to begin taking notes. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the lecture, and you feel a pang of regret in your chest. Maybe he really doesn’t know what he did wrong, you think, nibbling on your lip in thought. No, there’s no way he doesn’t know. He’s the smartest guy in the room, no way does he not know what— 

You glance at Eric again, this time turning your head to fully look at him. His blond hair falls over his eyes, even with the hat covering his head. His shoulders are hunched, his hand moving so quickly over the lined paper so that he can at least try to keep up with your professor. For a moment, you think about Eric Sohn. About the frat boy who had been nothing but kind to you since the day you met. About the boy who once gave you notes far more detailed than you’d ever written during the week you were sick. About the boy who—

No, you shake your head and begin to write down more equations you know you’re going to have to ask Eric about later. He’s a frat boy. All he wants is a good fuck and then he’s gone. 

But why did he seem so hurt when you spoke to him so rudely? When you turned him away not once, but twice within the past three days. 

You liked him, you really did! He was kind, thoughtful, and he was always helping anyone he could. He never refused to help anyone, even if it was a subject that he didn’t know that well. Had you gotten it wrong? Was he just trying to talk to you and you had responded—

Your pen clicks again as you give up on the notes, and you lean back in your chair to squint at the whiteboard in front of you. 

Talking with Eric Sohn was inevitable, but it was only a matter of how long you could avoid the topic—

“I want all of you to pair up. These will be your partners for the midterm project.”

Eric’s gaze turns to you uneasily, tilting his head in question. You bite down hard on your tongue, fighting every urge inside of you to turn around and ask the girl behind you to be partners. 

Fuck, how could you say no to those eyes?

Your room is brighter than Eric thought it would be. When you originally invited him over to study that night, he had been terrified. Was your apartment going to be almost falling apart? What if it was really nice and he broke something? What if you killed him and stuffed him into a dumpster?

Fortunately, none of those things were necessarily true. Your building wasn’t falling apart, thankfully, although it was arguably nicer than any other off-campus apartments and you could still choose to kill him. 

It was nice, though. It was a two-bedroom apartment that you shared with your friend Eunseung, one full bathroom and another half-bathroom, a decent kitchen, and a nice-sized living space. According to what you told him in the last semester, the rent wasn’t too awful either. 

The walls of your bedroom were yellow, but not an ugly shade of yellow. It was pastel, not quite bright enough to be harsh on the eyes but not dark enough to make it hard to see. You’d lined bookshelves up to the wall, most filled with books but some with photos and plants and music albums. You had a small desk in the corner, and your bed was aligned with the center of the back wall, a light green comforter covering white sheets. 

“I’m surprised we’ve never studied here.” You hum, but your tone is distant. Eric laughs dryly and sets his bag down on the ground next to your bedframe. 

“You prefer the library,” he points out. “The lighting is easier for your eyes.” 

For a moment, you pause in your motions. How did he—

“How did you know that?” You ask, turning to face him. You can see the flush in your partner’s cheeks, and he ducks his head so that the baseball cap on his head covers his eyes. 

“I just— you would always squint when we studied at the library or— or at the TBZ house. I just…I figured that was the reason.” I pay attention. That’s what you knew he meant. 

Why does a boy who only wants to get into your pants care so much about you?

“Oh.” You dig your laptop out of your bag and take a seat on your bed, leaning against your pillows with your legs straight out in front of you. Eric joins you, sitting crosslegged at the other end of the bed. He’s careful not to get too close, shifting away from you when you adjust your position. Your skirt flares out to the side, ruffled by the blanket and exposing your thighs a bit more. Eric has to force his eyes to remain on his laptop. You notice, but there’s no anger with it. You choose to not even acknowledge it. 

“So what do we wanna do for our project?” His eyes flick over to you, and you shrug. 

“We could build something?” You suggest. “Maybe, like, a paper airplane launcher?” 

He hums, tilting his head back and wrinkling his nose in thought. 

“What about something with electromagnetism?” You nod slowly. 

“That could be good. We could keep with the idea of building something and make an electric motor with things people have lying around their houses?” 

Eric grins at you. “Now we’re thinking. We’ll have this done in no time at all.”

Eric was right. 

The brainstorming and research portion of the project had been completed within a few hours, and the two of you had cast your laptops to the side to search your apartment for things to use. Paper clips, some sort of copper wire (you had no idea why anyone would have a copper wire hanging around their house. Eric, however, said that there were several around the frat house), wood, some batteries. Anything that the two of you could use. The only thing neither of you had was a staple gun.

“It’s getting late,” Eric notes with a quick glance toward your living room window. You hum in response, lying back on your couch with your phone in your hand. “I should get going soon.”

Your eyes flick to him, but he isn’t looking at you. “Do you wanna stay the night?” 

Silence. A long moment of silence, and then Eric looks at you with a look nearing scandalized. 

“What?” You sit up, draping your arms over the back of your couch and getting a better look at him. 

“You heard me.” His face is bright red, similar to the night of the party. 

“Why would— why would I want— I mean th— thank you for the offer but— but I can’t stay the night. Why would— where would I even sleep? I don’t have clothes to sleep in!” He throws every excuse he could possibly think of at you, adding to your amusement. He had no clothes, where would he sleep, you had classes earlier in the morning than him, it would be weird if he stayed the night. It was cute. 

You’ll admit it, Eric was cute. The puppy-like look in his eyes, the pout on his lips. Everything about him was cute. It almost shocked you how fast you were able to get over the anger that he only wanted to sleep with you. In fact, you weren’t sure that’s what he even wanted from you. Only one way to find out, right?

“Eric,” you finally cut off his rambling and his voice stops, leaving your apartment oddly quiet. “Come here.” 

He listens, slowly slinking toward you. Eric is nervous, you can tell. Every step he takes, every twitch when you shift your body. It fills you with pride, or maybe some other emotion. 

Eric stops when he’s right in front of you, just a few steps from the back of the couch and both of you (really just him) are all too aware of how his crotch is level with your mouth. 

“I wanna tell you something,” you beckon him toward you with one finger and he slowly, albeit a bit awkwardly as well, bends down so that his face is just above yours. Heat radiates off his face, so hot that you may start sweating soon. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

His Adam’s apple bobs, his hands gripping the couch for dear life, short nails digging into the cheap fabric. 

“Sure.” Eric’s voice is hoarse, and it makes you smile. 

“I kinda like you, Eric.” 

Your lips press gently against his. Entirely experimental, just enough to see what he would do. His body seizes up, his breath hitching in his throat. He doesn’t move against you, doesn’t tilt his head or part his lips. He sits there like the lead in a lame drama where the main characters seem like they couldn’t be less into each other. You begin to pull away from him, fearing you’d made him a bit uncomfortable, but a whine is pulled from his throat when your lips part from his. 

You look at him, but he’s already looking at you with wide, bulging eyes. 

“Eric…” You have a sneaking suspicion that you know why he didn’t kiss you. “Have you…has no one ever kissed you before?”

“What?” The boy’s voice is shrill, and you know the answer. “Of— of course, I’ve been kissed? What kind of question is that?” 

Your lips quirk up. “Are you sure? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know.”

“What— why would I be embarrassed?” His frustration and denial are cute. Adorable, really. 

“Because you’re a sophomore in college and have been kissed once— by your physics partner, no less.” You smirk playfully and then gasp, pushing up and toward him suddenly. He reels back, nearly falling backward with the suddenness of the motion. “Eric Sohn! Are you a virgin?”

Eric looks like he’s about to cry from embarrassment, and he turns away from you completely. You grimace briefly and climb off the couch to come around and stand in front of him. He avoids your gaze by looking above you, around you, at the floor and the walls. 

“Eric,” your voice is gentle now. He doesn’t move, nor does he make any noise. He’s like a deer in headlights. “Eric, can you look at me.”

“No,” he denies, crossing his arms over his chest. You feel a bubble of amusement rising in your stomach. “You’re just gonna make fun of me.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” You promise, your hand grazing his forearm. Eric’s eyes lock with yours, and for once you choose to hold his gaze. “Now, can you tell me the truth so I can help you?” 

“Help me,” he echoes with an air of offense. “I don’t need help!”

“Eric, you’re a sophomore in college who’s in the most popular frat on the campus. Add onto that your personality and your good looks, you should be getting bitches left and right.” You say pointedly and the tips of his ears flush red. Or, rather, as red as they can when his whole face is burning up from your prior insinuations. 

“What if I’m just waiting for marriage?” He counters. “Or— or the right person?” Your lips draw into a thin line, knowing that statement was bullshit. 

“We both know you wouldn’t be hard as a rock right now if that was the case.”

Eric’s heart plummets to the ground, his eyes following it to check for himself. To his complete and utter dismay, you weren’t lying. Pressing against the front of his cargo pants was the solid outline of his member, straining against the seam and begging to be released. 

“I— I am so— so sorry,” he stammers, his hands yanking the edge of his sweatshirt down to cover himself, his hands remaining carefully placed over his crotch but he knows it’s too late. “I didn’t— I don’t— oh my god I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, holding tightly onto his sleeve so he can’t run for the door. “I knew you wanted to sleep with me, it was kind of obvious.”

“No I— I don’t want—” Eric frantically shakes his head. “I don’t— I can’t— I don’t wanna sleep with you— I mean I do, I really really do, but not— not like this—”

The hand on his sleeve comes up to grab his cheeks, squeezing them together until his lips are pushed out and he can’t speak anymore. 

“You can admit it, Eric.” You hum, and with your hand still on his face, you begin to walk him back and around to the side of the couch. He yelps when you push him back, letting go of his face and watching him fall over the arm and land with an oof on the cushions. “You can admit that you wanted to fuck me from the moment you saw me.”

“But I—” He choked on spit before he could finish talking, eyes widening into saucers when you climbed onto the couch, crawling up to sit on his lap. He’s sitting up straight now, but the risk of falling back again is high with nothing to support his spine. Your hands just rest on his shoulders, not digging in or moving to grasp anything else. They stay there, waiting for him to make the first move. 

“Tell me if you don’t want me to continue, Eric.” His hands are trembling, his pulse higher than it’s ever been. He slowly rotates his body, placing his feet firmly on the ground and resting his spine against the back of the couch so that he doesn’t hurt either of you. 

“I want—” his voice cracks. 

“What do you want?” Your lips are on his neck, featherlight kisses being left in your wake and knocking the breath out of him. He’d never felt like this, he’d never been touched like this save for his own hand in the darkness of his room with an animated video on loop on his laptop screen. At his lack of response, you pull your lips back from his neck. Eric lets out a loud whine at this, his left hand coming to the back of your head to lightly try and push you back into him. 

“Keep doing that,” he gasps out, and you smile. 

“Don’t you want me to kiss you?” You ask him, and another whine tumbles from his lips.

“I— fuck, I do— god, why are you doing this to me?”

“I just wanna know what you want, Eric,” you’re teasing him and you know it, but you’re pretty sure Eric might fall to pieces if you don’t give him something soon. “Can’t you tell me what you want?” 

“Just—” he leans his head back, and you watch the rapid bobbing of his throat as he tries to swallow and take in air and do anything to calm himself down. “Just do something.”

“What’s the magic word?” He raises his head, gasping when he finds your lips suddenly inches from his own. 

“Ple— please?” Your lips quirk up.

“Actually, it was—”

You don’t get the chance to tease him anymore. He crushes your lips together with so much force that it almost hurts. There’s nothing coherent about the way he kisses you, although you could hardly call it a kiss at all. It was more him putting his mouth against yours, tilting his head, and squeezing his eyes shut. It’s clear from the moment it started that he’s never been kissed before and that knowledge has you squirming in his lap. 

“Eric,” you’ve barely pulled back and he’s chasing your lips as if you’re a glass of his favorite wine. “Eric, hold on.”

“Why?” His eyes flutter open and you have to force yourself not to kiss him senseless, even if he has no idea what he’s doing.

“Just—” You inhale deeply and the scent of his cologne begins to overwhelm your senses, practically intoxicating you. “You’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

He nods, his previous embarrassment returning when you say that. “I mean…Yeah, I— I haven’t. But I—I’ve used WikiHow—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off and choose to ignore the comment about WikiHow, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Just follow my lead.” 

When he nods, you press your lips against his again. This time, it’s more fluid. It’s easier for you to kiss him when he’s copying your movements. It’s still awkward, your teeth smacking together painfully, but you can tell he’s getting used to the feeling. You’re able to part your lips against his, to open your mouth just enough for your tongue to slip out and brush against his lower lip. His whole body jolts, his hands digging into the fabric of your skirt hard enough that your skin would be bruised the next day. His hips roll up against yours, drawing a heady moan out of you. 

When Eric parts from you, his eyes are hazy. “Did— did you like when I did that?” 

“Yes,” you groan and begin to roll your hips down into his, watching the way his eyes roll into the back of his head and his back arches off the couch. 

“F-Fuck, okay,” He screws his eyes shut again, lips completely parted as the two of you begin to hump into each other like some damn animals. Your lips meld together again, and you let your tongue slither into his mouth. It’s obvious that Eric has no idea what to do with his tongue— pushing against yours aggressively, shoving it to the side, and trying to push his into your mouth— but as the minutes pass, he begins to understand what to do. He begins to understand what makes your body react positively and what has you unintentionally cringing away from him. 

Your lips part from his one more time but you hardly give him time to complain before you place a kiss on his cheek, then the corner of his jaw, and then right below his ear. He emits a nearly wild moan at this, his hips jerking up into yours in such a way that his bulge presses against your clit and punches a moan out of you. Being the quick learner that he is, Eric adjusts his position and rolls his hips up again and again and again, addicted to the way you sound and feel against him. 

“Eric,” you whine, parting from his neck. “Eric, oh my god.” 

He just huffs into your collarbone, licking and sucking and trying desperately to not cum too soon, but you just feel so good against him that he just can’t help it. 

His hips stutter against yours, and he moans so loud you fear that the neighbors hear it. You let him continue to grind into you, to work himself through his orgasm as your slips back and escapes you. It doesn’t matter, you’d get yourself when he leaves—

“You didn’t cum.” 

“What?” You blink dumbly at him, and Eric begins to pout. 

“You didn’t— you didn’t cum. You should’ve told me. I would’ve held off!” You knew that wasn’t true. He could barely hold himself together from a few kisses, what made him think he’d be able to hold himself off until you came? 

“It’s fine, Eric.” You reassure him, but he’s having none of it. You can’t stop him from lifting you off his hips and settling you against the couch cushions. Well…you probably could, but you wanted to see where this went. 

You watch as he unceremoniously yanks down your panties, not bothering with your skirt whether out of impatience or because he liked seeing you in it. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Eric peers up at you, a boyish smile on his face. 

“Can’t be that hard, right?” You laugh, choosing not to argue with him. You’d tell him, when it came time, where your clit is but for now? You’d let him work things out for himself. 

Your body shudders when Eric takes his first taste, licking from the bottom to the top of your pussy. You’re amazed that he didn’t accidentally go too far down like most (slightly more experienced) men have. It’s almost impressive how much attention he pays to your quivering body, and you flip your skirt up so you can see his face buried into you. Every lick draws out a moan from both of you, and you can see him starting to roll his hips down onto the couch. 

“Fuck,” his words are muffled by your cunt, and vile slurping noises accompany him. “Could get addicted to the taste of you.”

“Mm, feels good, Eric.” Your eyes flutter shut, one of your hands slipping down to tangle in his blonde strands of hair and tugging him up slightly. Your other hand taps at your clit lightly, making your body jolt a bit. “Here. This— fuck— feels good here.”

“That’s it?” He drops his head down again, swatting your hand out of the way to replace it with his own. His touch is much rougher than yours, his hands thick and calloused compared to your delicate ones. “Right here?” 

You whine for him, and he has to bite on his tongue to not cum again so fast. He’s quick to attach his mouth to your clit, sucking violently and swiping his tongue against it. If you weren’t impressed by him before, you most certainly were now. It hadn’t taken him long at all to figure out what felt good for you. Reading your mind and body was almost second nature to him, it seemed, and it became abundantly clear when your orgasm began to rise again.

“Close, Eric!” You gasped out, “I’m close!”

He groans against you, catching your hips in his hands when they begin to roll into his face. Eric wanted to drown in you. He wanted to feel you shake around him for the rest of his damn life. He wanted to hear you screaming his name until your throat was raw and your voice was gone. 

And the sight of you cumming on his face, your essence soaking his chin and dripping onto his sweatshirt? 

If he could stay glued to you for the rest of his life, he fucking would.

Becoming a habit came easy for you and Eric. You’re not dating, but you’re unsure of whether the puppy-like boy cares or not. You discovered very quickly that he would do anything for you, would learn anything for you. You’d successfully taught him how to kiss a girl without looking like a dumbass (i.e. the straight-face-to-sudden-kiss scenario you’d faced too many times to count), how to finger you and hit all the right spots, where not to put his mouth and fingers unless explicitly told otherwise. There was, of course, your next problem.

Eric refused to put his dick in you.

You knew he was clean, both of you had gotten tested when you originally began screwing around. You knew he liked you, that much was obvious. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, he told you how much he loved you every time you gave him head. He just…never went farther than that. Was he scared? Did he not want you as bad as you (very clearly) wanted him? It made you nauseous to think about, but it was getting frustrating how all you two did was make out, grind on each other like teenagers, and give each other head every time you saw each other. Shit— he was even fine with fingering you underneath the table in your lecture the other day! 

That’s why you developed a plan. Here you were, standing outside of the Tau Beta Zeta frat house under the guise of needing to work on your project (which wasn’t necessarily a lie) but really planning on getting him to finally fuck you. Yes, you were aware of the fact that he was a virgin but it was obvious from the start that he didn’t give a shit about that.

Unless he did. Your hand pauses just inches from the door, but you shake your head to clear the anxious thought and you knock on the door. 

One, two, three…one, two three…one—

On the third round of knocks, a boy swings the door open. His eyes are wide, his hair in disarray. 

“Hi.” You wave your hand with a smile, but the boy just stands there with a dumb look on his face. Were all the TBZ boys like this? 

“…Hi?” He says it in the form of a question, which draws a laugh out of you. 

“I’m Y/N.”

“…Sunwoo…” 

“Oh, the star soccer player, right?” He nods and you grin. “I saw your last game, the one where your girlfriend— I’m assuming girlfriend— knocked some sense into you. You really killed it out there!”

“Thank you…uh…can— can I help you?” You rock back and forth on your heels, biting at your lip in thought. The idea of wearing a skirt is choosing to bite you in the ass as a cold breeze picks up. 

“I’m here for Eric, actually. Um…Eric Sohn? I think he lives here, right?” Sunwoo’s jaw drops, his head dipping down as well and he steps to the side to let you in. You smile, using your feet to pull your shoes off as you step into the entryway. You see a pile of shoes to your left, the larger men’s pairs shoved into a large pile while some smaller women’s shoes sit neatly. You can’t help but wonder if it was the girlfriends that did this or if one of the frat members cares a bit more about them than the others. 

“He’s…he’s on the second floor, third door on the left…” You thank Sunwoo, ignoring how he follows you with obvious confusion and awe. Another boy passes by you, staring in confusion but ends up in the same state as the soccer player when he explains the situation. 

You knock before you enter Eric’s room, rocking on your heels again as you wait for some sort of response. You get none, and when you go to interrupt him, the second boy stops you. 

“Hi, um, I’m Haknyeon— you can call me Hak, though— Eric’s— he’s— he’s gaming. You can just go in because there’s no way you’re gonna get his attention by— by, um— yeah.” He stumbles over his words in an almost incomprehensible way, but you get the basic idea. 

“Thanks, Hak,” you dip your head and twist the doorknob. Sunwoo and Hak both watch you enter the room, only snapping out of their daze when you shut the door tightly behind you. 

“You…you saw that too, right?” Haknyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder with a grin on his face.

“My best friend…” Sunwoo’s voice is quiet with confusion. “He’s…he’s getting bitches?”

“What did I say about saying that,” his girlfriend pops around the corner with a scowl on her face. Sunwoo’s face lights up, but it disappears at the scolding gaze she gives him.

“Sorry, baby,” he pouts and she rolls her eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Give them some damn privacy,” she clicks her tongue, eyeing the door. “Lord knows they’re probably gonna need it.”

Eric is facing a large gaming setup when you enter the room. You can see the dark polo sweater which is partially unzipped to reveal some of his chest, the beige hat, and the khaki combo he had, unfortunately, chosen to wear today (you’re going to have to update his closet soon, whether you date him or not. You have to save the next girl he’s with). The lights, shockingly, are purple rather than the red you had expected. You can see expensive monitors and a keyboard, all of which are cleaner than any other gamer’s setup that you’d seen. In fact, his whole room is so much cleaner than you had ever given him credit for. You’d expected to see something absolutely filthy, but Eric never fails to shock you.

What doesn’t shock you, however?

Five Nights At Freddy’s playing on the screens.

You clear your throat, and he barely even spares a glance at you. You wonder if he even recognized that it was you—

“Yo, Y/N!” Oh god, this might not go as planned. “You’re early!” 

“Figured I’d come by to hang out before we got started on the paper.” You come up behind him, dropping your bag and jacket by the edge of the bed, revealing the black sheer top you’d chosen to go with your white skirt. You’d also chosen the perfume you know gets his attention the most, the one that always has him practically gluing his face to your neck. 

That doesn’t happen this time. He stays glued to his game, his legs spread wide open and tongue sticking out from the corner of his lips. 

“Feel— fuck!” His body jerks when an animatronic (Foxy, maybe?) comes out of a vent and gives him barely enough time to start protecting himself. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, I might take a while.”

You hum, not moving from your spot. Your hands are on the back of his gaming chair, your eyes focused on the screen with fake intrigue. He doesn’t acknowledge you, so you let your hands begin to sink onto his shoulders. His chin tilts toward you a bit, but he corrects himself and goes back to ignoring you even when your nails graze the skin of his collarbone. 

“What are you doing?” Eric asks, but it’s more dismissive than anything. 

“Just watching you play,” you reply with a sly grin. Another jumpscare appears, and he grunts when you intentionally dig your nails into him (something you’ve learned he loves over the past two weeks). 

Part two of your scheme begins when you sink to your knees beside Eric and slip under his desk. This grabs his attention. Eric watches as you get comfortable, no longer paying attention to the screens in front of him when you run your hands up his thighs, grazing the button of his khaki pants. 

“Y/N, this—” his breath catches in his throat when you finally undo the button and pull the zipper down. You can see his member already hardening, twitching in his boxers. “You don’t have to— I don’t— why—”

“Jus’ play your game, baby.” You purr, your fingers hooking under the band of his boxers to tug them and his pants down at the same time. His jaw is hanging open, eyes wide with awe, but you stop your movements. “Play your game, Eric, or I’m leaving.”

His response is immediate, sliding his chair closer to you and lifting his hips to let you work. Your smirk is wide, and you yank his clothing down in one go, letting them rest around his ankles. Eric’s knee begins to bounce, and you rest your hand on top of it to steady him. His member, in just a few moments, has completely hardened. You can see the slick precum beginning to leak from his tip, and you lower your mouth to catch each drop on his tongue. 

The moan he emits is loud, and you pull your mouth back just an inch to dig your nails into his thigh.

“Stay quiet and don’t cum unless I say so.” He whimpers in response, and you bring your mouth back onto him. You begin by suckling at his tip, letting your tongue swirl around him like a lollypop, and listening to his barely restrained moans. You hear clicking and tapping on his keyboard, as well as random noises from the game

You take him a little deeper and his thighs tense, but he’s good at staying quiet. He’s good even when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag around him. Even when you take him so deep that you’re choking on him and spit is dripping from your mouth and onto his skin. Even when you begin hollowing your mouth and bobbing your head, and swallowing around him a few times when you take him all the way down so your nose is against his pelvis. 

Another jumpscare and his hips jerk and force him farther down your throat. You moan around him, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, and that elicits a whine from him.

“Y/N,” he pleads. “I’ve been s-so good for yo—you right? Haven’t— Haven’t I been good? Ple—please let me cum. Jus’ wanna cum, please?” 

Eric sees you look up at him through your eyelashes, and just the sight of you slobbering all over him has his eyes rolling back in his head.

Then you pull off him completely, leaving his dick twitching and lonely against his stomach. 

“Why did— why did you pull off?” His eyes are dazed, and you flash a coy smile at him. 

“I told you to pay attention to the game, didn’t I?” 

“I— yeah, you did but— but I just— you—” Eric is tearing up as you begin to push your body out from under the desk to stand in front of him. 

“Poor baby,” you cup his cheek and your stomach churns when he leans into your palm with a sigh. “Should’ve just paid attention and beat the night, then, hm?” 

“Please,” he whines, leaving little kisses on your palm and working his way to your wrist, your forearm, your elbow, and then he’s pulling you onto his lap so you’re nearly sitting on his dick. You can feel it pulsing against your core, and you can’t help the tiny rolls of your hips to gain some sort of friction. “Please, just— I’ll…I’ll do anything you want. I’ll— I’ll eat you out, I’ll finger you, fuck, I’ll— I’ll let you sit on my face if that’s what you want.”

You hum, tapping your fingers against his chest in thought. “What if I want you to fuck me?” 

His body tenses and his cheeks begin to flush, his eyes refusing to meet yours. 

“Eric,” you say softly, moving your hand to his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Eric, talk to me.”

“I— I don’t—”

“I’m not gonna force you to do anything, Eric,” you reassure him, stopping the ministrations of your hips and bringing your free hand to the side of his neck. “I just want to know why. I want to understand. Do you— do you not want me? Do you wanna save yourself for another girl?” 

“No!” He snaps, his voice a bit harsher than he’d intended for it to come out but it has you flinching away from him. In a moment of panic, he brings his hands to your waist and tugs you closer to him. “I— sorry. It’s not— it’s not that at all.”

“Then why?” Your hands are playing with the ends of his blonde hair, and Eric swallows once. Twice. And then he tucks his head into your shoulder. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

You nod, disappointment filling you, but you don’t let it show. 

“Let’s work on the project.” You slide off his lap, ignoring the somewhat heartbroken gaze he shoots you. “The paper is due in a couple of days, so I grabbed a few sources and drafted an outline.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just tucks his member back into his pants and comes to join you on his bed. The air is tense and you know he wants to say something. You wait for him to say it. 

He doesn’t.

“Eric, you’re fucking stupid.” Sunwoo throws himself onto his best friend’s bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of Eric hitting his head on his desk.

“I know…”

“I mean, we already knew this from previous incidents. Ahem, giving my then-crush-now-girlfriend a concussion. But holy shit I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse than that.”

“I know!” Eric whines, sitting heavily on the gaming chair he’d gotten head on almost four hours ago, and could have gotten laid in had he not been a damn moron.

“I mean, you’ve been trying to get laid by this chick for how long? And you cockblocked yourself because…” Sunwoo trails off, his eyebrows knitting together as he sits up. “Wait, why did you cockblock yourself?”

“I don’t know, man!” Eric huffs and leans his head back. “Fuck, she was so nice about it too. Too nice. I know damn well she’s pissed at me but she’s too fucking nice to say anything.”

“Well yeah,” Sunwoo shrugs. “Sex 101— don’t force yourself onto anyone. Hello? Why would she do that to you?”

Eric crosses his arms over his chest, using his feet to spin his chair back and forth lightly. You had been really sweet about everything. You could’ve gotten mad at him, especially since this wasn’t the first time this had happened, but you didn’t. You wanted him to be ready. 

And he was. He was so ready! He just— he gets nervous around you! What if he’s a disappointment? What if he’s so bad that you have to fake an orgasm? What if he doesn’t fit? What if he hurts you?

“Eric,” Sunwoo claps his hands together to snap Eric out of his thoughts. “Stop getting distracted while I’m trying to help you in a way that won’t lead to injuries.” 

The poor, self-cockblocked boy lifts his head with a pout. 

“There’s a party this weekend, right?” 

“Yeah…” Eric tilts his head.

“Make sure she’s there. Use whatever excuse you need to, and make sure she shows up. Then, ask her to talk. Go somewhere private, talk to her, tell her you’re ready, and then fuck until the sun comes up.” Sunwoo claps again, throwing his out to the side in a cocky I just made the best plan ever manner. “First of all, gets you laid, second of all— free revenge on Sangyeon.”

Eric drums his fingers against his legs in thought. The plan was good, he’d admit that. Of course, not out loud. No, he would never let Sunwoo know that he was right about something.

“Fine,” Eric agrees. “But if shit goes south, it’s your fault.”

“Deal,” Sunwoo grins mischievously. “And if shit goes right, you owe me and my girlfriend dinner.”

“Deal.”

Eric doesn’t see you at all that week, something that has him nearly crying on the ground in Sangyeon’s bedroom. He’d texted you, asked if you were okay, sent you notes, told you about the party but didn’t outright invite you. Nothing. No sign of you in lectures, no texts from you aside from a confirmation that you’d submit your written portion of the midterm.

“Take a damn breath.” Sangyeon rolls his eyes and tugs a formfitting black mock-neck shirt over his head, sliding a silver chain around his neck afterward. “She’s probably busy.”

“But she never goes this long without texting me! Or being in a lecture!” The youngest member of the frat holds his head in his hands, staring down at the white buttondown shirt that hung somewhat loosely on his body. 

“Maybe she hates you, I don’t know!” Sangyeon exclaims. “Stop bothering me about it!” Eric pouts up at the TBZ president.

“But you know how to handle these things!”

“Not when you’re on my ass about it all day every day for a week straight.” Sangyeon’s lip curls and Eric huffs, laying back on the hardwood floor. “Dude, just be patient. Who knows, maybe she was sick? Maybe she’ll show up today and you’ll get laid. Just. Be. Patient.”

And patient he was. 

He lurked around the party, a drink in his hand and a ripped red baseball cap covering his head and shielding his red-rimmed eyes from the public. They didn’t need to know he’d cried over his two-year-long crush ghosting him. 

“Who pissed in your cheerios?” He turns his body slowly, ready to crack a corny joke, and walk away from whoever yelled in his ear, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. You’re in another tiny little black skirt and a black bralette that was used as a poor excuse for a shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it. He nearly crumbles in front of you, ready to worship you and the ground you walk on, ready to take you in front of all these people so they know that he’s yours.

“Oh my god.” 

You laugh at the dumbstruck look in his eyes, at the way his eyes are stuck on your chest, and the way your bralette pushes your boobs up just enough to catch attention. 

“You okay, Eric?” Your hand is on his arm, and in an instant his cup is thrown to the side and his lips are on yours, his tongue shoved into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, and, really, the suddenness of it all, but you don’t complain. You love how frantic he is for you, love how he’s ready to risk it all after just a week of not seeing you. 

When he parts from you, there’s a string of spit connecting your lips that only breaks when you swipe your thumb across his lip. 

“How’s that for a hello?” You say just loud enough for him to hear it. 

“We need to talk.”

“We do.” You confirm, but his lips are on yours again, and you’re so glad that everyone is distracted by a game of beer pong on the other side of the room. You let your eyes flutter shut, moaning into his mouth when he pushes his tongue against yours. They dance together, swirling around each other but not fighting for dominance. No, this kiss isn’t about that. This is two people being addicted to the taste of each other, two people who could never get enough of what the other has to offer. 

You have to force yourself to part from him, turning away so you can find somewhere more private— preferably his bedroom. He doesn’t stray from you, gluing his lips to the side of your neck as you try to weave through the crowd. It’s not easy, especially with Eric on you and refusing to let go, but you don’t mind. 

Not when he shoves you against his dresser as soon as his bedroom door is shut and locked. 

The handles of the drawers dig against your spine, but you’re too distracted by Eric’s lips on your chest to care. His hat is missing, likely somewhere on the staircase. Your jacket has been thrown to the opposite side of the room, the straps of your bralette shoved down and both breasts freed from its confines so Eric can lick and suck and bite at the soft mounds. 

“Eric,” you moan out, arching your back into his hunched form. He groans against you, sucking hard at your nipple and eliciting a loud moan from you. “Eric, pick me up.” 

Without even pulling away, he does, plopping you unceremoniously onto his dresser and moving his lips to the other breast, replacing his mouth with his hand. Your hand comes to the back of his head, and you find yourself smiling at the desperation your lover shows. 

“Missed me that much, huh?” Your composure is crumbling, but you don’t care. “Might have to disappear more often.”

He rips away from your chest, eyes narrowed into a glare. “Don’t even joke about that. I thought you died.”

You kiss him again, both hands holding his face to yours, and your legs wrap around his waist. Eric’s hands find your thighs and he lifts you off the dresser. He sucks on your tongue, biting on your lip when you start to pull away and you whimper at the sting of pain. 

“Thought I died, hm?” You brush back the blonde strands of hair covering his sweaty forehead and smirk. “It’s a good thing I didn’t then, hm? What would you have done? Fucked your fist for the rest of your life?” 

A muscle in his jaw feathers and he throws you down on his bed. You yelp, eyes widening at the personality change. A week ago, he would’ve been begging you for any touch, would’ve been falling apart just for one look at your dripping pussy. But now?

Now he looks like a starved animal, and you’re the first helpless creature he’s seen in weeks. 

“Eric,” you warn, watching him unbutton his shirt. “Remember what I said.” 

He eyes you, smirking at the way your jaw drops when his shirt hits the floor. It’s odd, isn’t it? You’d probably been bare in front of him countless times but you’d hardly seen him with his pants down.

“Holy fuck.” You stare at his torso, at the chiseled abs and biceps, at the veins in his arms, at the trail of hair leading down to his dick. “You’re— you’re fucking shredded.”

“Shredded?” He quirks an eyebrow, undoing his belt and the button of his pants so he can push them down and kick them to the side. “That’s the first word you thought of?”

“Well—” you clear your throat and turn your gaze away from him. “I mean— you are.”

“Cute,” He coos and crawls over you, hooking his fingers into the hem of your skirt. “May I?”

“You may,” you look at him again, then down his body and swallow hard at the sight of him. You’ve seen him many times. You’ve held him in your hand, in your mouth. You know what to expect.

So why does it make you so nervous now?

“You’re getting distracted,” Eric kisses his teeth, lowering his face to yours but not kissing you. He traces his nose across your cheek, light kisses from his lips going with it. His nose nudges against your jaw, urging you to tilt your jaw up so he can kiss you there. You do, and his lips feel like fire against your skin. “I thought you liked it when people pay attention?”

“I— I do!” You gasp out, and Eric laughs against your skin. Where the fuck is all this confidence coming from? 

“Then why aren’t you paying attention to me?” His fingers press against your sopping-wet entrance and you lift your hips in a weak attempt to get them inside of you. 

“I am!” Tears are welling in your eyes. “I am paying attention to you, Eric, please!”

He juts out his lip in a mocking pout, using the hand that’s not against your heat to wipe the tears away. 

“Okay baby,” he says softly, sinking two thick, calloused fingers into you. “Don’t cry, not yet.” 

The intrusion has you crying out and Eric does his best to hush you, to soothe you, and then he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. Your fingers cling to his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and shift with every movement of his arm. Eric grins when your eyes finally flutter shut, when you finally give in to him. He praises you when he slips a third finger into your core, and then a fourth. He praises you as he works you through the sting, curling his fingers gently to search for the spot he knows would have you falling to pieces under him. 

Eric finds it easily and is oh so pleased by your wail of his name. He grins almost maliciously, when you begin to shake, when your body begins to thrash, and your nails dig into his shoulders and drag down his back. 

“Always so easy for me,” he hums, staring in awe at the wrinkle between your eyebrows and how your tongue practically hangs out of your mouth. When he knows you’re about to cum, he crushes his lips against yours again and begins to move his hand faster. You’re sobbing into his mouth, unable to kiss him back between your cries and moans, but Eric doesn’t mind. 

He lets you grind against his hand until you’re not shaking anymore. Then, and only then, does he pull his fingers out of you, watching with curious satisfaction as your cum drips from his fingers and onto the blanket below you. 

“Don’t— don’t sit there staring at that shit.” you hiss, but Eric just smiles. 

“So you can speak coherently now?” 

“Shut up and fuck me already, or do you need me to teach you how to do that too?” 

Eric’s gaze hardens, his tongue pushing against his cheek. You push yourself to sit up, but Eric pushes you right back down and uses his hands to push your legs apart. 

“I don’t need you to teach me anything,” he grunts, lining his member up with your entrance. 

“Really? That’s not what it looked like three weeks ag—oh fuck!” Your back arches off the bed when he suddenly sinks into you. Four fingers seem to have been just barely enough, the sting fading just as fast as it came. Or maybe you just like the pain so much it turned into pleasure. Whatever the reason, you’re quick to tell Eric to pick up the pace. 

You’re both shocked and impressed by the movement of his hips. He alternates between smooth, sharp rolls and harsh, pointed thrusts that have your body forced up the bed and the headboard knocking against the wall.

“You think I need your help?” Eric growls, digging his hands into your thighs and spreading them farther apart, lifting the lower half of your body a bit to change the angle. This brings a new pleasure to both of you. Something that you’ve never felt before, and has your mind reeling. “I didn’t need you. I wanted you. I wanted every part of you. I craved you, craved your taste. It was pure fucking luck that you wanted me too.”

“Eric,” You gasp out, sinking your teeth into the side of his neck to leave another mark on his skin. “Eric, feels so good, god it feels so good please, please don’t stop. Don’t stop, oh my god!”

“Look at you,” he yanks your head out of his neck by your hair, staring down at your fucked out face as he continues to plow into you with no remorse. “All fucked out for me. I did this. Your little virgin boy. Isn’t it embarrassing?” 

You whine in response but apparently, that isn’t what he’s looking for because he slows down at your lack of response. 

“Answer me,” he hisses.

“I— I don’t— Eric I don’t—” You don’t even know what he’s trying to ask. You stopped listening as soon as he pulled your hair, the sting of it feeling too good. Eric laughs, picking up his pace again and dropping your head back down onto his pillows. 

“What? Too fucked out to answer me? Who would’ve thought that I was the virgin and not you? What would people think if they walked in here and saw me fucking you like this?” He doesn’t expect an answer this time, not that you’d be able to give him one anyway. 

Your legs draw tightly around his slim waist, holding him close as your orgasm approaches again, but Eric doesn’t seem to be even close to cumming. Even when your second orgasm washes over you, and then your third. He fucks you through each one, sweat dripping from his hair and down his torso until his body is sliding against yours. Your body feels numb, but at the same time, you can feel everything. Every drag of his length against your walls, every punch of his tip against your cervix. Your arms curl around his neck, but your grip is loose. 

When Eric’s hips finally begin to stutter, you’re about four orgasms in, the fifth about to wash over you. Your voice is hoarse, a puddle of drool on the pillow under your head. You can’t find it in you to make any more noise, just gasping breathes and quiet whines. You cum together, and the feeling of his cum filling you has your back arching again. This time, Eric catches you and holds your body against his. He kisses you gently, uncaring that you can barely breathe let alone kiss him. 

“That— that was a good talk,” he jokes, and you say nothing at first. “Um…are— are you okay?” 

“You just—” you clear your throat, but it does nothing. “You just fucked me within an inch of my life, as a completely inexperienced virgin, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” 

Eric frowns, settling down on top of you, but careful not to lay his full weight onto your obviously aching body. He can see the bruises he’d left all over you— on your chest, your neck, your hips. Anywhere his lips or hands touched, there was a bruise left in his wake. He imagines, however, that he looks no different. He can feel the scratches you left on his back, marring every inch of his skin and likely drawing a bit of blood, he can see a hickey on his arm that you left at some point and can imagine how the front of his body looks.

“So…so you’re not okay?” He tries and you huff, throwing an arm over your eyes. 

“Eric, I love you, but you’re such a dumbass.” You groan, shoving him off your body so you can breathe properly. “Go draw a bath. I’m gonna need one after that shit.”

“Before I do, can you answer one question?” You pry your eyes open to scowl at him and his damn puppy-like eyes.��

“What?” 

“Are we— are we dating now?” 

“We won’t be for long if you don’t get that fucking bath going.” 

“Aw, yeah!” Eric cheers, jumping off the bed and running to the bathroom to start the bath like you asked. “Guess who isn’t single anymore, Sunwoo!”

“What’s your problem?” Haknyeon peers at Sangyeon over the lip of his mug. The frat president is glaring at you and Eric with something murderous in his eyes, which seem to have dark bags under them.

“My bedroom is right next to Eric’s.” Haknyeon raises an eyebrow, and Sangyeon clears his throat. “My bedroom is next to Eric’s.”

“Okay…oh. OH. Oh, shit man, I’m sorry.” Haknyeon turns his gaze to the two of you, grimacing at the thought of how long Sangyeon could have been kept up, but smiling when he sees how the two of you are cuddled on the couch. The grimace returns when he sees the state of your necks, neither of you having bothered to hide what you did to each other. 

“I mean,” Sunwoo sits on the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hand. “You kinda deserved it after what you did to him.”

“What the fuck— what did I do to him?” Sangyeon exclaims, and Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow. 

“You fucked your girlfriend for, what, seven rounds straight? The poor man didn’t get any sleep that night. Be glad you were able to rest after that.”

Haknyeon raises his cup, and the three frat boys return to “subtly” watching the two of you.

“Do you at least know if he was good? You know, for a virgin.”

“Oh my fucking god, Sunwoo, shut up.”

“You shut up, Hak! It was just a question!”

“You two are fucking nasty,” Sangyeon’s lip curls into a sneer, trying to block out the memories of last night. “But I’m gonna need a shit ton of bleach if I wanna forget that bullshit.”

“Hot.”

“Sunwoo, shut UP!”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#blackoutorbackout🍻 #itsbeeble #reese's moots 🩵 #reese's works 📩 #reese's pieces 🗞️ #fawn~ 🧼 #ally~ ⛄️ #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop smut #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #eric sohn #eric sohn x reader #eric sohn smut #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn fluff #eric sohn the boyz #tbz eric sohn

[tossawary]

I finished Volume 3 of SVSSS, which encompasses the main story, and currently have my bookmark sitting at the first chapter of the Airplane Extras in Volume 4. I took a bunch of quote pics but have yet to review them and add thoughts.

Every time I read SVSSS, I forget how... incredible... the inside of Shen Yuan's head is. He's fascinating.

Like, he's misogynistic (even while criticizing Airplane's own misogynistic writing), he's homophobic, AND he's transphobic. Not in a way where I think he thinks anyone deserves fewer rights than anyone else (I think he's generally a nice person, although, holy shit, I would not trust this man to craft policy of any kind) or would prevent anyone from living however they chose to live, a lot of his problematic bullshit stays inside his own head as he tries to understand the world around him using the stallion novel formulas he was given, but he's carrying around SO MUCH unexamined bias that supports his refusal to examine himself and his own desires.

Some of it reads (presumably intentionally) a LOT like the kind of conflicting, problematic bullshit a lot of queer people carry around inside their heads as they struggle to untangle themselves and their beliefs.

And while I do wish that Shen Yuan had been forced to confront and address his misogyny and transmisogyny even further than it does come up (in part because it is DEFINITELY affecting the way he thinks about gay men as well, including and especially Binghe), I do kind of... appreciate on some level that he thinks this way? From a character standpoint? Because I think it's probably realistic for a privileged young man spending a lot of time on the internet reading shit like PIDW to look at the world this way. And it's clear even through his own narration that his blindness in certain areas is causing him a lot of trouble. While I do have criticisms and personal wishes, I do appreciate the depiction of personal character development that is just... a cringeworthy mess of internalized bullshit the whole fucking time.

Also, it's SO funny to me that he reads as SO aro-ace-spectrum to me (probably gay, but generally detached from sexuality and possibly also partially from gender) AND he actually knows... the word asexual, I don't think he has a very broad understanding of asexuality... but he knows the word and yet doesn't personally identify that way. He mentally accuses both Luo Binghe (main story, before finding out Binghe is into him) and Liu Qingge (Succubus Extra) of being asexual for showing no interest in women, only to fail to reflect on how he ALSO demonstrably has no lasting personal interest in the women around them, which doesn't read as very genuine to me.

(EDIT: Again, I am not against a bisexual Shen Yuan interpretation either! I am willing to be persuaded by any author who wishes to tell a particular story. But Shen Yuan's attraction towards women often reads personally to me as very shallow and possibly insincere.)

"I willingly read PIDW, that proves I'm straight!" he sincerely thinks to himself, even though his favorite wife is the one without explicit sex scenes and he also admits to skipping over a lot of them.

"I'm able to tell when women are beautiful, that makes me straight!" thinks the guy who mentally censors nudity whenever demon women lose their clothes, and keeps telling us how "the average reader" of PIDW would react to these beautiful women instead of conveying his own attracted reactions. His actual reactions are generally centered on a woman's narrative significance. The only people he personally seems to find attractive are Luo Binghe and maybe Liu Qingge.

Though my interpretation was that he does probably experience sexual arousal and have a sex drive (see his username), which probably helps with his conviction of straightness, I'm not sure that there's any mention of Shen Yuan even masturbating at all in the entire main story of SVSSS? He never tried to hook up with anyone. Sex is apparently not a priority for him.

(EDIT: He does seem to enjoy sex with Binghe in the "Bing-mei vs. Bing-ge" Extra. He loves Binghe and likes the closeness and the physical pleasure. I appreciate the indication that they're working on moving on from the AWFUL intercourse pushed by Xin Mo's possession and possibly also the System's Scenario Pusher.)

And Shen Yuan seems to view women as being and behaving Fundamentally Differently from men and gay men as behaving Fundamentally Differently from straight men (as soon as he learns Binghe is into him, he thinks about how Binghe isn't behaving like the characters in his sister's gay, non-con, BDSM erotica novels), seeing everything through the lens of novel tropes, such that he seems to view sex and sexuality and gender as being deeply mixed with a person's personality. So he can't be a gay man, because he's too "Normal", in his mind at first, because he doesn't behave like his own mental image of "How Gay Men Behave" (or "How Women Behave / A PIDW Wife Behaves"), while also demonstrably not being anything like "the average reader" of PIDW and also apparently not caring too much about his own masculinity? Like, I do think he likes being the gentleman scholar of Qing Jing Peak, he does like appearing dignified and strong and cool, he doesn't like losing, he doesn't really like playing "damsel in distress" roles, and I do think he likes being gallant towards women, but he's not too concerned about seriously competing with figures like Luo Binghe or Liu Qingge? He's happy enough to back down and let someone else take the lead if necessary. He puts up with being put into the roles of female leads even if it embarrasses him and he rolls with the punches to his pride easily enough. He seems to have decided his Sexuality By Default, so it does make me have a lot of thoughts about whether or not he's potentially going with Gender By Default / Convenience as well.

Someone get this man some amateur and academic literature on gender and sexuality (and a lot of other stuff), stat, so he can ignore it, probably.

#tossawary svsss #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #tossawary rereads svsss #shen yuan versus asexuality fic

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Well, Actually

Summary: Spencer gets frustrated as Reader proves him wrong about an unsub's profile.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff-ish

Content warnings: discussions of gender, sexy implications, Ernest Hemingway

Word count: 1.5k

It’s when I flip the OPEN sign to CLOSED that I can finally breathe. Saturday Sale Days at the bookstore are usually easygoing, but most people took refuge at the windows thanks to the crime scene across the street. Another sex worker was murdered, according to the agents who were here earlier. Well, one of them looked like an agent; coated from head to toe in black and seriousness. The other, however, might as well have been a pretentious preppy middle schooler who thinks a doctorate — three doctorates (he made sure to correct me) — gives him the excuse to lack social graces.

I’m not used to running into FBI agents regularly. However, I’m fairly confident that questioning civilians is more about further insight and not running to the end with confirmation bias. Dr. Reid, on the other hand, had his confirmation set that he and his team were looking for a woman riddled with internalized misogyny who was killing sex workers and leaving quotes from Ernest Hemingway pieces.

So, is it wrong that I may or may not have said they might actually be looking for a male with possible gender nonconformity issues? According to the quotes written in lipstick and discussions revolving around Hemingway’s relationship with gender, it was the first thing to pop into my head.

And it was Dr. Reid’s first instinct to take it personally, like any other gifted child who’s never learned what it’s like to be wrong (possibly). His reaction mainly consisted of raising his voice and saying my assumption “was not relevant to our case” and taking a collection of Hemingway’s short stories without paying for it. I haven’t found a suitable way to explain that to my boss yet.

Regardless of his reaction, I had no reason to expect to see him again. I got a card from Agent Prentiss after she questioned me behind the counter and haven’t heard a word since. It didn’t matter then because we were closed, and I had the day off tomorrow —

Knock, knock, knock. A simple three-raps on the glass. The night makes it difficult to see who it is, but I’m more than familiar with the panic button under the register. So before I turn the lights out, I get closer to the door to find out who on the other side can’t read.

And without thinking, I open the door, but don't let him in. “Agent Reid.” I can’t help but push him just a bit.

“Dr. Reid.”

“Right.” I faked a laugh (years of practice). “Well as you can see we’re closed for the night so —”

His hand is out, holding the book. The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway. The paper cover is already pulled up at the corners and the spine is cracked. Nothing display worthy, that’s for sure. “I took this.”

“And you had it for six hours. How did you decimate it so quickly?”

“I was using it as a source while we were trying to solve the case.” His hand was shaking, from nervousness or lack of strength to hold a paperback in one hand for longer than a minute, either could be possible. “I figured a way to make amends was to come back and purchase it.”

I looked down at the book and looked back up at him. Sincerity and boyish charm force me to hold the door open for him and let him in. When he comes in, his under eyes are darker, perhaps because he's a night owl, or because of his job. His hair is still fluffy like this morning but droopy.

He was prepared to call it a night before coming here. But thievery is apparently too heavy for this agent’s shoulders.

I walk to the register, booting up the fancy tablet. “So did you? Solve the case, I mean?”

“We did.”

I scan the barcode, luckily he didn’t ruin that. “And? Did she explain the Hemingway quotes at least?”

Silence, only for a moment. I see his hands digging into his pockets. He pulls out a debit card and hands it over. “He, actually.”

“What?”

“He didn’t explain the Hemingway quotes but said he targeted sex workers because they were ‘freer than he ever would be.’”

Silence swallowed the room immediately upon saying that but of a different kind. The kind that was ripe for me to brag and possibly even do a little dance. But I’m patient, and I don’t like interrupting people. I tap the screen slowly so the good doctor can gather the words. I even took another glance and his eyes were already locked on me. It would’ve made me jump if he didn’t follow it with “You were right.”

There it is. “Hmm,” I say as I keep the arrogance down to a minimum as I contemplate my next words. I take his receipt and scribble before bagging the book. “So do I get a one-way ticket into the bureau, or do I take your place or —”

“Thank you for your help." He says slowly as if he were being ordered to apologize. Like he wrote these words in a document before coming here. “Your observation sent us in the right direction.” His hand is out, waiting.

I also have a talent for dragging things out. When I shut the techy stuff down again, I go back around and hand them to him, so I can get closer. Read his face. When he reaches out and just touches the paper, I jerk the bag back. “That’s not what you want to say.” I let the bag dangle off two of my fingers, shamelessly drinking in the moment. “Come on, it’s gotta be killing you.”

He rolls his eyes. Briefly, but enough for me to notice. “What could be killing me?”

“That you, an FBI agent, with two PhDs —”

“Three PhDs.”

This is so fun. “Three PhDs was outsmarted by a girl who works in a bookstore. Merely a bachelor's on my resume.”

“That is not the case.” He says.

“It seems relevant to the case now.” That intended to burn, and it did. Scorched actually. I could feel it from here, so I walked to the back to find the lights, expecting him to follow me.

He did. The creaking of the old wood floors echoed as we walked, there was no rhythm or synced steps, just two different walking patterns, one at ease and the other eager. “Just tell me how you figured it out.” He says. “Hemingway has been praised for his writing style and the way he wrote certain female characters but his macho personality indicated he enjoyed nothing feminine.”

A chuckle might have been appropriate, but I replied with a stark laugh. A bold “Ha!” As I opened the lightroom door. “Because macho men are known for being the happiest people on Earth, according to history.” With a click, the lights flickered steadily before turning off. I had my phone flashlight ready, though. “Honestly, Dr. Reid, it might be worthwhile to take a break from reading and watch a documentary on the man. It adds up quickly, even someone like you would get it.” I let the flashlight guide me back to the front, avoiding collateral damage from bookshelf corners.

Until Dr. Reid stepped in front of me, causing my head to collide with his chest. Somehow, I didn’t drop my phone and instinctively reached for my nose. “Someone like me?”

“Ow, first of all. But yes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I rub my nose in the dark. “That even a predictable bookish boy like you can eventually come to grips with the fact that he doesn’t know everything.”

“And you do?” He asked.

“I never said that,” I admitted.

He looked at me skeptically. Even in the dark, I could feel my arrogance might have gotten the best of me here. I tried looking away, to another dark space. 

He, however, did not. “What else did you say? Predictable?”

“You mean you don’t remember?”

He sighs, and air from his nose brushes above my lip.

Then so does his hand in my hair.

His lips, though, were quite the opposite. As if all his frustrations couldn’t take it anymore and needed to be let out with a teeth-smashing, saliva-coated spectacle (that no one could see. Not even us.) All I felt was wandering hands and the wall hitting the back of my head before he pulled away. His hands are still on my waist, and he breathes sharply in and out. “Was that predictable?” I heard him swallow.

I contemplated my response for a short while, wondering which one, a yes or a no, would get him to do it again. So instead, I just grabbed where I assumed his head would be and jerked him down to meet my lips again. It worked. His hands wrapped tight as if he glued himself to my skin. “Will you get reprimanded by your team for being somewhere you aren’t?” I ask between breaths and lip separation.

“Maybe. I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“I won’t admit anything,” I said. Whether it was to see Dr. Reid’s night turn out worse, or to keep a secret from his boss about a makeout session in a bookstore, I’m not sure. But his body was thin, layered with clothes. Warm.

“What will you admit to?” He whispers, moving our bodies, begging for more kisses. Or just more.

“Dinner?”

“For?”

“Education purposes, Dr. Reid.” My hands can’t help but explore. “Seems like we’ve got a lot to learn.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[the-library-alcove]

Ironic Parallels

For all that the political Left likes to claim that they're without bias or bigotry, just existing as a Jew in Leftist spaces will quickly demonstrate otherwise. And for maximum irony, the patterns of systemic antisemitism on the Left don't mirror right-wing antisemitism. Instead, they mirror right-wing racism. Imperfectly, for sure, but the parallels between how the Right treats Black people and how the Left treats Jews are striking.

Discussions of systemic bigotry are deflected with Whataboutisms so that the instigating issue isn't addressed. For African-Americans, it's often "What about Black-on-Black crime?" and similar by the Right-Wing, and for Jews, it's "What about Israel?"

Alternatively, a prominent political advocacy organization is attacked and defamed in order to again deflect and dismiss. "BLM is violent and engages in riots!" or the usual libels against ACORN, and "Israel is fascist!" or the usual libels against AIPAC and the ADL.

At the same time, prominent dead members have their words cherrypicked to make people feel good about themselves and their treatment of that group. Contrast how MLK's "I had a dream!" speech is used by the Right-Wing with how Anne Frank's "I believe that people are fundamentally good at heart" is used by the Left.

On that same theme, token members are held up to deflect accusations of systemic bias. African-American right-wingers prove that the Right Isn't Racist, and Jewish Antizionists prove that the Left isn't antisemitic--or, conversely, the extremist members of the individual group are cherrypicked to "prove" that the whole group is like them.

Furthermore, laws are proposed or passed to disrupt cultural practices; people of African descent face bias for having natural hair, while Jews routinely face people proposing banning circumcision, kosher slaughter, or the keeping of an eruv. But, you see, they can't be biased, because they know all about that group... based on what they saw on TV/Movies/Wikipedia, so they know that the group can handle these laws and rules just "fine".

The targeted group are treated as having an unfair advantage in the racial hierarchy. Consider the parallels between a right-winger complaining about Affirmative Action, and a Left-Winger saying that, since "Jews are White and therefore privileged, antisemitism isn't real discrimination."

But as soon as one shows up in a space outside of where they "belong", they're treated with suspicion until proven that they're acceptable... if ever. A POC in a store is treated as a potential thief, and a Jew in public is automatically acceptable to interrogate if they're a "Zionist".

Consider also how historical revisionism is rife as well. For POC, slavery and imperialism are erased from textbooks, as well as the backlash against Critical Race Theory, the 1619 Project and more. Meanwhile for Jews, pretty much nothing exists in educational curriculums between the start of the Diaspora (assuming it's even mentioned) and the Holocaust, which is treated as an aberration of bigotry instead of the culmination of centuries of hate. Even the admission of the real history is treated as an unforgiveable sin. Black people were never mistreated or enslaved, but were Guest Workers. Jews never came from the Levant and are Just White People From Europe.

And that's before we even get into systemic disenfranchisement. The original "ghetto" was the Jewish ghetto of Venice, and Jews are still routinely discriminated against for hiring, just as POC are.

But at the same time, everyone knows that "Blacks always play the race card" and that "Jews always accuse people of antisemitism."

And so on and so forth.

They're not perfect parallels--and I'm not saying that they are--but they are striking parallels in behavior.

__

I drafted this in April 2023, and it's been sitting in my drafts ever since, as I didn't have the courage to post it.

But given the current SURGE in Leftist Antisemitism, I somehow don't care anymore.

#leftist antisemitism #antisemitism

[messylustt]

Hey gorgeous!! Would you write a lil sum sum for Miguel with a black cat reader variant in his universe? Some kind of enemies to lovers shiz with lots of banter where they’ve been banging for some time. So like one night he portals/sneaks in to her house whilst she’s cleaning or having a self-care night. She’s only wearing some sexy undergarments and a silky robe that’s slipping off. She gets scared and tries to cover up her body quickly but he’s like “nothing I’ve never seen before” all smug. They’re getting real hot & steamy when she tells him they should stop with the sex & everything—bc feelings are blooming—which only riles him up. His response is only “I’ll say when this is over” as he proceeds with some real good rough sex. He’s obsessed (in a soft dark typa way) and falling for her, he’s never letting go 😤

Idk how but the inspo for this ask came from seeing this artwork:

https://twitter.com/ducnguyen21/status/1670802971649556487?s=46&t=-JmyrJtYpHLGIcZz7R-FXg

HE’S TOO DANG HOT 🥵🤤 I want him to pound me on the kitchen counter 🤩

honey honey honeyyyy— AHHH

BLACK CAT WITH BENEFITS ( nsfw ) — miguel o’hara + reader: you try to end your fwb relationship with miguel, you having caught feelings. but you didn’t expect miguel to react so…possessively.

marks smut. forced proximity. enemies to lovers. possessive!miguel. soft dark!miguel. i don’t know like anything about black cat so i apologise if i get stuff wrong. wc 2.1k.

it had been say...a few months, you think, since you and miguel's relationship switched. it started out as unwilling work partners...

"her?" miguel questions jess, who's standing arms crossed.

"yes, her. she's an incredible fighter. just what we need to catch this anomaly."

"she's not even our variant." miguel gruffly stated. he had always had a bias against 'black cat's'. he thought they were doing the jobs of spider-people. so, upon hearing the news that jess's new recruit was a black cat he wasn't particularly thrilled.

when you first met, miguel's expression was set in a scowl. he didn't take your offered hand in a handshake, leaving you to retract it and set your own assumptions for this moody man. your assumptions proved right with every conversation.

"you missed." miguel stated almost pettily, as you both tracked down an anomaly. your jaw clicks in annoyance as you bite back. "and you definitely didn't aim at the wrong mirage."

miguel's lips curve up in a snarl as you fluidly pass him, keeping a close eye out for the anomaly, as your claws scrape down the wall.

when miguel reached your side again he was grabbing your hand, and inspecting your claws. you snatch them back. "aren't you supposed to be the one who's always on task?"

miguel scoffs. "just wanted to make sure your claws were pathetically small...they are."

"i'm afraid that word only works for you, miguel." you hiss back, creeping by the wall.

"what? small?" miguel inquires, the same bite still in his tone. "i didn't think you were that blind."

"no." you bluntly state. "pathetic."

then slowly the term 'work partners' turned into heros who...talk? banter? throw insults? whatever it was the conversations had increased, as you both found yourselves on a lot more missions together. you'd both hate to say it but you worked well, similar minds, similar ways of attack.

"down that alley." you whisper, legs stretching in your black suit. miguel slowly stalked towards the anomaly, staying silent as his claws grew out. you jumped to the higher building, moving to block the monsters path at the end. you swing down, body flexing as you land effortlessly in the anomalies way, making it jump.

and as it turns to run in the opposite direction, miguel is stood, knocking him out with an easy hand. "i thought it'd put up more of a fight." you say walking closer to the passed out anomaly and miguel. "with these spikes you'd think so." he replies.

you chuckle, and miguel all but freezes. because a strange heat rose up his neck at hearing the effortless almost seductive sound. you didn't mean for it to be seductive, which makes miguel even more confused as to why he's interpreting it that way.

little things like this drew miguel closer to you. because you as well started to notice just how good he was with capturing dangerous anomalies. how fast and easy he could tear someone's throat out.

and all that gradual tension finally came to play when you both ended up stuck in a room...alone.

miguel bangs at the metal door. "calm down." you sigh, laying back on the rickety bed. you'd been stuck in here for a good half hour. "the door isn't gonna magically open if you keep banging your fist on it."

"and what are you doing?" miguel turns, as you slightly sit up.

"we've called in backup. i'm sure jess and that will find us eventually." you try some form of consolation, because his loud banging was making your ears hurt.

"uh huh...and what about the anomaly?" miguel has stepped closer, as you fluidly stand, also moving forward.

"again. we've called back up. they'll catch him." you say, flexing your wrist back and forth. it was tick you have when you’re slightly antsy. and being stuck in a room with barely anything to do helped produce that.

"you sound confident." miguel states, his gaze shifting to your moving wrist.

"why don't you? they're your people aren't they?" you ask, but then miguel's hand is reaching out to grab your wrist. at the close proximity it's an easy action. you shift your gaze to miguel.

"and now you can be included in that, can't you?" miguel asks, keeping his hand wrapped tight around your wrist.

you tilt your head a fraction eyeing him as he continues. "you can be included under 'my people'."

you don't know why your heart sped up at that as your skin prickles with the feel of him close. "i'm honoured..." you lean closer to him, making his eyes dart across your face. "...but I think I'll pass." your breath slightly teases his lips, as Miguel's grip tightens around your wrist.

"is that so?" miguel's tone has dropped, coming out a little breathier.

"mhm." you hum, the tension now incredibly thick. and you begin to feel yourself move back. because Miguel is edging closer. and you continue to move until your back hits against the end bed frame, makin it arch right into him.

now you two were close, breathing the same air. "then how about getting rid of the 'people' part of that?" miguel slowly asks.

his lips are close, as his hold on your wrist slips to a hold on your hips. "and be what? yours?" you tease this out, lips barely brushing his.

and that's when miguel loses all and any composure, smashing his lips against your own, making your head knock back. his hands are swift and eager now as he pulls away your suit, at a surprisingly quick effort. his mouth barely leaving yours.

and that's when your 'heroes who talk' relationship turned into so much more, that had you both sneaking away, obscene noises only shared with each other. it became an arrangement. a relief.

;;

so, when miguel climbed through your window, it matched a normal routine the two of you had. it had always (for the most part) been at your universe. it seperated fun from work a little easier.

but you still jump in shock upon seeing miguel in your hallway. you quickly wrap your sheer dressing gown around yourself, not really covering the lingerie set you had underneath. you had planned a self care night for yourself. to pamper yourself with sexy clothes after just having had a long bath. you weren't expecting Miguel to come tonight.

he's now moved closer, noticing the way you're trying to hide yourself. "it's just me." he moves to kiss you, eagerly searching your mouth with his tongue. you slightly lean away. "i wasn't expecting you..." your words a spoken lightly, but there's a weight to them. because over the course of this arrangement, you had begun to develop feelings. and that's one thing that should never happen when you make an arrangement like this. just a bit of a fun. no strings.

miguel notices the slight distance you've created, emotionally. his brows furrow. "catch you at a bad time?" he leans back in, managing to slip his hand to the back of your neck, as his other slides to pull your gown off, his lips capturing yours a little more heatedly. it was a relief. it always had been. but now it made your heart ache.

but miguel had always been swift in getting you how he wanted. you, now, in only your lingerie, his shirt gone, as his kisses pushed you back into your room. you were kissing back, loving the feel of his mouth against yours. but then his hands began to wander lower down your body, and you knew you had to stop this. "wait, miguel." you break the kiss.

he slightly leans away, his hands still on you though, keeping you close. "you alright?" you could see the hooded look in his red eyes as he spoke, his thumb now moving in soothing circles on your bare hip bone.

"i..." you drift off, because in all honesty you didn't really want to do this. but you knew that it was better for the both of you if you made the decision. "i don't think we should do this anymore..."

it's silent for a moment, and you don't meet his gaze. "what do you mean?" miguel is still so close, and you need the air to actually push through with this. so, you manage to step away, finding your sheer gown on the floor for some modesty.

as you wrap it around yourself miguel is grabbing your arm, spinning you back to him. you finally meet his gaze, and see so many different emotions swirling together. "what do you mean?" his tone has dropped now and you gulp.

"i mean we shouldn't do this anymore. the kissing, the touching...all of it." tou say and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears.

miguel is staring at you, entirely focused to the point that you feel as though you're sweating. "no...no you don't mean that."

you hold your hand out because he had begun to move closer again. "i do, miguel. i'm sorry, it's better this way. it was fun while it lasted. It was."

but miguel bypasses your hand, pulling you back against his body, as he shakes his head. "no, you can't decide that. you aren't deciding that."

"miguel i've already decided."

"is it something i did?" miguel doesn't care if he sounds desperate now. you weren't just gonna leave him. not you. it wasn't going to happen.

"miguel—"

"i'll fix it..." his lips have moved to your cheek now, placing them everywhere he can. "...tell me what it is and I'll fix it."

your body is buzzing again with his kisses. "no, miguel...it's nothing you can fix. it's my problem."

"what?" his lips are hovering over your own now, giving them pecks between words. "what's your problem? i told you I can—“

"you can't fix it, miguel." you step away from him, your chest heaving hard. you were so close to just giving in, but you knew your heart would hate you after.

then miguel's expression darkens. "have you found someone? Is that it?" his distaste for the idea is obvious in his tone.

you shake your head, but miguel's mind is whirring with different possibilities. his own jealous attitude forcing the thought of a 'different guy' to the front of his mind. "do you like someone?"

"i..." you take a breath. you wouldn't be lying if you said yes, and it might get Miguel to leave. "yes. I do like someone."

but his reaction wasn't the one you expected. it was a casual arrangement between the two of you. you thought that if one of you ended up liking someone else, wanting to be with them, you'd stop. but miguel never had this mindset. no. the moment he had touched you, he knew he didn't want to let go. so, yes maybe he did use the word casual and went along with this arrangement, because he didn't think you'd leave him.

but here you are, saying to 'stop this'. miguel now with an iron grip grabs and moves you towards the bed, forcing you to fall atop of it. you weren't leaving. "you don't decide when this is over. i do." he's pulling away your sheer gown with force as he swiftly leans down to kiss you, this kiss oozing with possessiveness. "and I'm saying it's never ending." he darkly whispers, easily pulling your bra and panties away in two swift motions.

you gasp a moan as the air hits your throbbing pussy. miguel is pulling your legs apart, as he moves atop of you, his fingers slipping to rub your clit. "see...you don't want to leave me...you're dripping for me."

he then thrust two fingers inside you, his claws finding your g-spot, making your back arch. "yeah...look at you..." his mouth as moved to your neck, kissing and nipping at your neck. "only I can make you like this...make you feel like this." he thrusts higher up into you, making a high pitch noise spill from your lips.

"and those pretty little sounds are meant for me. only me. you have to know that by now." miguel mutters out, his cock aching as his tongue licks against your rapidly beating pulse.

then he's pulling away, far too eager to have you clenching around his cock, and knowing that he's the one inside you. he forces your legs to widen more, and with your flexibility it works, as he pushes the head of his cock inside of you.

"miguel..." your breathing hitches. no matter how many times he fucks you, his cock doesn't get any easier to slip in. so, you nearly scream when he completely bottoms out inside you, making you instantly clench around him at the stretch.

"mierda—" miguel mutters, beginning to move his hips into you, the movement rough and permanent. he moves back to caging you in as his lips find yours, your whimpers and groans getting lost in his mouth.

"you're not gonna leave." he whispers to you, having moved his head to the crook of your neck. "you aren't ever gonna leave me...no, te vas a quedar conmigo, debajo de mí...in whatever way i want."

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

#. ( spidey mark ) #the miguel effect #glitter dose #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara fic #miguel fucking o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #atsv #atsv x you #atsv smut #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #18+ #smut

[lovelyhan]

Hii!! minghao + "oh really?" / "yes, really." / "lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart." from the prompts enemies to lovers? :D

— rush hour ⟢

pairing: minghao x reader

summary: you used to be good friends with the newest dancer in your agency, but your competitiveness gets the better of you when he overtakes your spot as the top performer of the month—for three straight months.

word count: 6.7k words

tags: enemies to lovers, dancer au? unresolved sexual tension, smut

warnings: promiscuous behavior in public, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: this . got really REALLY long :D like long enough to have its own header and everything LOL it probably helps that hao has been clawing his way back into my bias line these days, so the brain rot kinda just spilled out,, anyway, thank you sm for sending this in!! i hope you like it :3c

smut tags: porn with some plot ig, public sex, vaginal fingering, exhibitionism, hao is kinky as fuck, dirty talk, degradation

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex

minghao taglist: @zeenanigans - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx

Saying that you hate Xu Minghao is a bit of an overstatement. 

After all, you were the one assigned to show him the ropes when he was accepted into the agency. While you’re no professional mentor, you like to think he was able to rely on you during those first few weeks. He’s been in Seoul for a better part of two years, and although his Korean can already pass as a native’s, you knew he still struggled every now and again. It’s a good thing that verbal communication isn’t direly needed in your line of work.

Minghao was an excellent dancer—one of the best you’ve seen with your own eyes. You once took pride in having a budding prodigy like him as an understudy. Whatever steps or routines you’d ask him to try out and make his own, not only will he deliver, but he’ll blow your expectations out of the water while he’s at it, too. 

It doesn’t help that he knows his own body well enough to channel each movement with passion that makes him look alluring to everyone who dares to watch any of his performances. Minghao isn’t vain or conceited or anything like that, but he’s completely aware of how attractive he is, and that’s a trait that’s further amplified by his dancing. 

You suppose the funniest part about this senior-junior relationship you have with him is how he always asks for your input about his routines. Even if Minghao has long proved that he doesn’t even need a pseudo-mentor like you, he still takes the time to hear out whatever you have to say—eager eyes always shining every time you indulge him with an answer.

Another thing that inevitably brought the two of you closer is the fact that you both take the same train and get off at the same station. Your apartment is in a different neighborhood from his, but you find comfort in the newfound company you’ve been given since Minghao’s arrival. Though he doesn’t talk much outside discussions about work and other dance-related topics, having someone familiar to sit right next to you on the train is more than enough to quell the day’s fatigue.

Your other colleagues sometimes voice out their envious comments jokingly—saying that you’re extremely lucky to have such a hot guy as constant company. Almost always, you respond with a vigorous shake of your head before insisting that things between you and Minghao aren’t at all like that. Besides, you know better than to nurse a romantic relationship between your colleagues. You wouldn’t even let yourself have a crush on any of them. 

What they don’t know, however, is that on very rare occasions when your body feels just a little too heated, and your sheets a few threads too thick, it’s Minghao that flits into your mind as your hesitant fingers reach between your thighs. 

You touch yourself to the thought of him taking you in one of the dance studios. Specifically, in front of the full-stretch mirrors as he fucks you from behind. You imagine him whispering how good you are for him, how you’re taking his cock so, so well. 

Subverting the mere image of the kind man who constantly seeks your validation for his performance has you creaming on your own fingers within minutes, and if you weren’t such a terrible person, you would’ve felt bad for thinking about him in such an obscene light. 

Then again, what Minghao doesn’t know won’t kill him.

His first month in the agency comes and goes like the changing seasons. Next thing you know, it’s time for monthly evaluations again. 

While others would usually dread these assessments, you looked forward to them. You know that they’re less a measure of talent, and more a measure of hard work. Sure, talent could be one of the main driving factors of getting a high score, but you know better than anyone else that talent is nothing if you don’t work hard enough to cultivate it. 

That’s the kind of mindset that always landed you in the top of the rankings for every monthly evaluation.

And it’s the same mindset that puts you immediately beneath Minghao. 

The agency is always prompt with the release of the results. They’d post the typewritten scores next to the dancers’ names in the bulletin board at the ground floor cafeteria for everyone to see two days after the monthly evaluation.

It was a bit of a challenge to squeeze past the other dancers to get a good look at this month’s results—the crowd being more chatty than usual. Your closer friends insisted that you’d be number one as usual, and that you didn’t have to check at all. 

Part of you wants to believe them, but the unsettling feeling that pools in the pit of your stomach doesn’t let you become complacent. It doesn’t help that everyone around you seems like they’re sneaking glances your way—only to look away when you try to catch their gaze. 

When you finally make it to the front of the board, you notice that Minghao is already there—already dressed to kill for today’s sets and routines. His black hair is still damp like he just got out of the shower and rushed straight to work, eyes glued to the bulletin board. You would’ve let your gaze linger a bit longer on his gorgeous face, had it not been for the surprise that awaits you on that single sheet of paper plastered right in front of you.

1. Xu Minghao — 100 points

Your vision tunnels in, white noise ringing in your ears. 

You could vaguely make out the characters of your name just below Minghao’s, and just a few points from a perfect score. But you didn’t care about that. All you could focus on was the fact that you’ve been kicked out of a spot that’s been yours for as long as you can remember. 

No wonder the others were buzzing amongst themselves, flashing you brief looks before whispering their thoughts on the matter to the nearest willing ear. Not a single soul has ever garnered a hundred fucking points from monthly evaluations. The evaluators cut no corners when it came to assessing their dancers’ level of skill and technique, and seeing how they deigned to give Minghao, a complete newbie, a perfect goddamned score—

“Congratulations, bro!” 

“Minghao, you’re a fucking beast! How long did you even practice?”

“That’s so cool. No one’s ever gotten a perfect hundred before.”

“You’ve gotta tell us the secret, please!”

Like a bunch of bees, the collective of dancers start to crowd Minghao—giving him congratulatory gestures and greetings alike. Your understudy simply gazes at them as if in a daze, but ever-so slowly, a smile cracks through his typically stoic demeanor. 

“Uh, thank you…?”

He’s whisked away to the cafeteria before you can blink, and you can only watch in shocked desolation as they all usher themselves away from the board.

Away from you. 

You don’t miss the way Minghao tries to catch your gaze in the midst of it all, the smile he showcased for everyone to see falling the moment he realized you’re still rooted in place. Yet he doesn’t try to break free from the crowd, nor does he attempt to call your name out loud. 

Not that you have any plans on answering if he did.

It’s only after today’s session has concluded that Minghao manages to pull you to the side for a conversation. You’re already halfway out of the building when he catches you, and you can tell that the sheer euphoria of knowing you came out on top is still humming in his veins. 

It pisses you off.

“Thank you,” he says simply. 

“For what?” You try not to sound too gruff, but the pensiveness in your voice comes out anyway. “Letting you take my spot?”

Minghao’s grin dips into a grimace—mirroring his expression from earlier. “What? I meant to say thank you for showing me the ropes. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have—hey!”

You’re probably being immature. No, you’re definitely being immature. Instead of accepting Minghao’s gratitude like a normal fucking person, you continue brisk-walking to the building’s entrance without letting him finish. Of course, he chases after you, asking if he did anything wrong or if you’re simply in a bad mood or both. 

You don’t answer him even when he continues pestering you on the way to the train station, and he doesn’t stop despite the lack of responses from your end. It’s beginning to get on your nerves, too, because he was never this goddamn pushy during all those times you went home together. What’s stopping him from being the quiet companion he’s always been?

“Can you just shut the fuck up, Hao?” you end up snapping at him when you finally get off at your shared station—earning yourself a bunch of questioning looks from nearby commuters. “You don’t have to fucking rub it in anymore than you have. I already know the results, okay?!”

“Rubbing what in?” he asks, exasperated. “I’m just asking you what’s wrong because you don’t normally act this way. Is it so bad for me to worry about my friend?”

“Friend?” you echo mirthlessly. “No fucking friend of mine takes away what belongs to me.”

This time, when you storm off, Minghao doesn’t follow you.

Fortunately, that all happened on a Friday. It takes you the entire weekend after that heated encounter at the train station to realize that maybe you went a little overboard with what you said to Minghao. 

As you replay your conversation in your head, you’re filled with a crippling sense of embarrassment. The top spot for monthly evaluations belongs only to the best—you know this better than anyone else. The only reason that the evaluators deemed you as a second placer is because Minghao is that proficient in his dancing. 

You’re one of the people who was able to watch him closest. You’ve seen the work he put into practice firsthand. You even called him a prodigy. 

So why did you make a fool out of yourself by having a meltdown at the fact that you got beaten by someone who obviously worked harder than you did?

Hard work beats talent any day. But Minghao has both honed to perfection. 

If you’re going to reclaim your rightful spot on the top, crying about it is the last thing you should do. You’re going to have to put in double the effort to call yourself worthy.

As expected, Minghao has started to distance himself from you after that spat. You don’t blame him. As much as you wanted to apologize for your behavior that night, you wouldn’t want to remain friends with a sore loser if you were in his shoes. 

But as his second month in the agency breezes past, you notice that, not only has he distanced himself, but he’s become somewhat…hostile.

He treats everyone else the same way since he came in—stoically with a few words of affirmation here and there. You, though? It’s almost like he’s forgotten all about the time you were assigned to look after him. There’s always this cockiness lingering in his eyes that grates at your nerves more than you thought it would. He’d throw you haughty glances whenever he catches you flubbing some parts of the choreography from the corner of his eye. 

The worst part is that Minghao is more vocal now compared to when he first came in—not seeing any problem with pointing out how you’re starting to slack off during practice. 

“How are you expecting yourself to take back the crown when you’re already breathless after such a simple routine?” he gloats when he catches you lingering by the water fountain, lips curved into a smirk.

You glare at him while you take a sip from your water bottle. “Fuck you. I’ve been rehearsing all fucking day. Who wouldn’t be tired?”

“People who rank first in monthly evals,” he says boredly. “Oh, but you wouldn’t know about that, now would you? At least, not anymore.”

You’re so fucking close to tearing his face off with your own fingernails that you’re slightly grateful that Minghao gets called back onto the dancefloor to polish his group’s routine. Minghao’s constitution changes in a flash—that arrogant look he reserves for you alone making way for his usual aloof expression while he makes his way back. 

He always looks cool and amicable to others, but when no one’s looking he makes sure you catch the patronizing tilt of his lips whenever he pulls off some high level choreography with zero mistakes. As if to remind you that you’re never going to take back what he stole from you. Not in a million years. 

Okay. Maybe you do hate Xu Minghao. 

You hate him a fucking lot.

…

Minghao proves that the results he reaped from his first month in the agency are no fluke.

For three consecutive months, you’re forced to stand in front of the cafeteria’s bulletin board with his name plastered on the very top. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought that the evaluators were only editing the month indicated on top of the sheet with how stagnant the results always are. 

The agency’s rising star consistently comes out on top with little to no effort, while you’re desperately clawing your way back to glory at second place. 

You didn’t know what the fucking deal was. You worked your ass off twenty four-seven. Even if you weren’t in the studio, you made sure to study all sorts of routines and choreographies so your body would remember the movements deep into your bones. 

But then you remember that even if hard work beats talent, you can never beat a man who has both at his disposal.

You’re at your wits’ end at this point—so close to giving up on the title you thought would always belong to you. Your evasive behavior did you no favors in maintaining a good reputation among your colleagues either. If you listened to their hushed conversations closely enough, you’d catch them saying how pathetic you’re being. Ostracizing yourself all because you’re insecure that your understudy became your adversary. 

The only reason you hate what they’re saying about you behind your back is because all of it is true.

Your usual group of friends doesn’t sit with you at your usual table at the cafeteria anymore, but you don’t really mind that—learning this late into your career that silence can be more beneficial than it seems. But every time you see Minghao laughing at a joke told by one of your colleagues, you can’t help but feel that familiar bite of resentment you’ve come to associate with everything he does.

If only he didn’t overtake you during his first goddamn month here. If only he wasn’t the one assigned to be your understudy. Maybe the blow to your pride wouldn’t have been this bad. Maybe you wouldn’t be licking your wounds in your loneliness. 

Maybe you wouldn’t have lost a friend you actually liked having around.

…

With an upcoming dance competition, it’s no surprise that the dancers at your agency often stay behind to polish their performances to perfection. Usually, practices would adjourn hours before the sun even sets, but these days, you find yourself exiting the building no earlier than nine PM. 

The excessive practice time has been taking a toll on you—this much you know. Your muscles have been sore for days, and no amount of painkillers and Salonpas can easily cure your affliction right away. So for tonight, you decide to take it easy—packing up once the clock hits six o’clock. The last thing you want is to accidentally pull something you shouldn’t, thus rendering your participation in the competition null and void.

But as you walk towards the train station, you realize that perhaps staying later was a smarter move after all. All around you, commuters of all ages and walks of life brush past you in their haste—the need to arrive home as soon as possible like a cloud on everybody’s heads. The closer you got to the station, the more it dawned on you.

It’s fucking rush hour.

You’ve always avoided going home during this time for two reasons. The first is the influx of commuters that’s literally and figuratively too suffocating to deal with, especially when your physical constitution isn’t in the best shape. 

The second is…because you noticed that, ever since your platonic breakup, Minghao has started leaving the studio at this hour. Later than your previous commutes home, but earlier than your new work-yourself-to-the-bone schedule. Sure, he’s still the biggest fucking prick to walk the earth whenever he feels like taunting you during practice, but he doesn’t seem interested in working overtime. 

If you’re being completely honest, you’re over the monthly evaluation results. Honest! You’ve just come to accept that nothing is ever set in stone.

Things change all the time. Humans used to believe the earth was flat. The Athenians once thought of Plato’s bullshit as the gospel truth, and—

You dared to assume you’ll be on top of the world forever.

What happened months ago was a reality check, and slowly but surely, you’re relearning the difference between ambitious and obnoxious. It’s a humbling experience that you’re honestly grateful for happening because…if it weren’t for that harsh reminder that there’ll always be someone out there who’s better than you, then you wouldn’t strive to improve at all.

You let out a quaint sigh when you settle into the train. As expected, tonight’s commuters have filled it out to complete capacity, and you wouldn’t have caught the last available space near the doors if you hadn't sprinted like a madman. Though your aching muscles practically scream in complaint, you comfort yourself with the promise of a long soak in your bathtub the moment you get home.

The smooth tone of the announcer’s voice rings from the overhead speakers, telling all passengers to step away from the doors, as the train is about to leave. Not that any of you can help it. You’re all packed like sardines in what’s usually a pretty spacious train car if you came in just an hour earlier or later. 

All of a sudden, you find yourself missing those days where you’d sit on the side where you could see the sunset breezing past the windows—listening to the stories of someone you can’t even hold a civilized conversation with anymore. But before that train of thought can progress any further, you shake your head as if the mere gesture alone can dispel your longing.

You try to press yourself back to avoid getting crushed by the automatic doors, muttering a quiet apology to the person behind you since you ended up subsequently squeezing him further into the crowd of cramped passengers. When the doors finally close, you hear him say a quick it’s okay, back at you, you’re forced to whip around in the limited space with your mouth agape.

Right behind you is Xu Minghao, looking just as distressed as you are.

He’s changed out of his usual practice clothes—having exchanged it for an oversized crewneck and sweats. His expensive headphones hang unused around his neck, and you wonder if you wouldn’t have noticed each other if only he was blasting music directly into his ears…

The urge to take back your courteous apology is strong, but you would much rather not give him any more of your energy than you already have. You’d take all his insults and badmouthing head-on in the studio, but it’s been a really long day, and you don’t have enough fire going to extend his hostility inside a crowded train in the middle of rush hour. 

“Why’re you out so early?”

You can feel gooseflesh prickle the skin of your shoulders when you feel Minghao’s breath next to your ear. A glare settles between your eyes as you jolt away from him in the limited space that affords you to do so. 

“Watch it, asshole. You’re way too close for comfort,” you hiss. “And the time I go home is none of your business.”

Minghao shrugs. “I dunno, you always stay late to practice. Is it so bad to be curious?”

“Yeah, because if it hasn’t occurred to you yet, I actually hate your guts, and I don’t appreciate you talking to me like we’re friends.”

He falls silent for a moment, and in the next moment the train lurches into motion—nearly catching you off balance. You’re quick to brace a hand against the door, but you startle again when you feel a large hand around your arm, touching you in a way that’s meant to steady. You spare Minghao another glance, but there’s less vitriol laced in your gaze and more confusion.

“Are we…” he whispers, gaze shied away from yours as he maintains a steady grip on your arm. Then, he gulps. “Are we not friends anymore?”

Again, you scowl. 

Is he being real with you right now?

“Dude, I am completely over the monthly evaluations if you think that’s the reason I’m being the way I am with you,” you hiss. “I was going to apologize after I said all that hurtful stuff in the past. But then you went ahead and started writing your very own villain arc. So, ask yourself: were you even my friend at all, Hao?”

The sound of that nickname making its way past your lips is familiar yet foreign at the same time. During these past few months, you’ve never once called Minghao anything else but asshole, dick, jerk, self-centered punk, and other variations of those words. You don’t want to admit it, but calling him by something that’s close to an endearment makes you feel like there’s cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth. 

Minghao doesn’t respond yet again, and you force yourself to face forward—leaning your head against the glass of the door so you wouldn’t have to look back at him anymore. You’re pretty sure the salaryman right next to you has been eavesdropping on your conversation this entire time, but it’s not like he has any other choice given the circumstances. 

You let the constant whir of the train engine lull you into a calmer disposition, heartbeat finally equalizing after everything you just shot at Minghao. That’s probably the most you’ve said to him all month, and to say that you’re not the least bit embarrassed about how you admitted wanting to apologize for a past transgression is a blatant lie. 

But what’s done is done. You’re just going to have to accept the fact that the man you once thought of as a good friend; the same man who’s now the main antagonist of your life and career, is standing behind you in your rush hour commute. Just twenty minutes more, and he’ll be out of your hair soon. 

Much to your delight, Minghao keeps his mouth shut until the train pulls over at the next station. The doors open with a mechanical ding, accompanied by the announcer's voice yet again. You’ve heard the monologue thousands of times, but you don’t quite hear it over the throng of passengers rushing to get off the train. 

You make way for them by scooting towards the back of the car, and Minghao does the same. But instead of shuffling away from you the moment there’s more room to move around like you thought he would, he lingers closely to your form. 

However, the amount of people that got off on this station is quickly replenished by a new horde of passengers—quickly filling in the space you thought would last for at least a few more stations. Once again, you find yourself slowly being squeezed closer to the corner of the car, but for some reason, Minghao wedges himself between you and the unassuming college boy whose wireless earphones are plugged in as he scrolls through his phone. 

When you realize what he’s trying to do, you say, “You don’t have to protect me or anything. I’m fine on my own.”

Minghao rolls his eyes. “You obviously didn’t see how you looked like you’re about to get crushed. Just thank me and we’re good.”

A biting retort is already resting on your tongue with how passive-aggressive that response of his sounds like. What the hell is his problem? It’s not like you asked for him to shield you from the other passengers. 

And yet…

“Thanks, I guess.”

You watch him visibly stiffen at your words, and you feel your heart slamming into your ribcage the moment you utter them. Did you really just thank the same man who’s been making your life at work a living hell for months?

The train starts to pick up speed again before you can answer that yourself.

You practically glare at the corner you’ve been forced into the entire trip to the next station. Minghao is right behind you, but you can’t be assed to worry about that when you’re chewing your lip out of frustration. Part of you feels relieved that you swallowed your pride and thanked him, but the part that’s been receiving the brunt of his antagonism for the past half year hisses in disagreement.

He’s an asshole. He’s a self-centered prick that uses people as stepping stones. He’s—

“...Sorry.”

You refuse to turn around. You refuse to believe that he’s actually—

“I’m sorry for being a jerk to you,” Minghao murmurs, and you feel his fingers graze your shoulder as if to emphasize the words with the sincerity of his touch. “I just… I didn’t know how to act when you lashed out at me back then. Y-You were my only friend, and I thought you’d be proud that I achieved something after working so hard for an entire month.”

You’re at a loss for words, completely stunned by the honesty in his voice. You’ve only known Minghao for a short while—been on good terms with him for even shorter—but you can always tell whenever he’s lying. 

This is not one of those times.

“A…friend of mine told me that I tend to act based on how I’m treated,” he continues. “I know that doesn’t excuse how I’ve been acting around you for so long, but… I guess when I got the hint that you hated me, the only way I could cope with that is to hate you right back. Even if I really didn’t.”

No. This isn't real. You’re dreaming. This is probably a side-effect from all those late hours you’ve spent in the studio—

You let out a soft squeak when you feel him rest his forehead against the back of your head, sighing so deeply, it makes you wonder how long he’s been thinking about apologizing properly. Minghao grips your arms again, not to help maintain your balance, but more to anchor himself onto his own. 

“I don’t care if everyone else in the studio looks at me like I’m some sort of god on the dancefloor,” he admits, voice so quiet, you could barely hear him. “The only person I’d want to look at me is you.” 

Your breath hitches, and you’re sure he hears it. 

“Can we please go back to normal again?” Minghao pleads. “I miss hearing your comments about my dances. I miss going home together.

“I miss you.”

The sincerity in his voice singes through you like a red-hot iron poker. You don’t know what to say, what to feel. All you can focus on is the stuttering breaths Minghao takes from behind you. 

If you’ve ever imagined reconciling with him, this certainly isn’t the most optimal venue. But now that he’s bared his defenses, you don’t see any benefit to keeping up your own.

“I’m…sorry and I missed you, too,” you admit somewhat sheepishly, thanking the higher deities up there that he can’t see the way your blood rushes to your cheeks. “But I don’t really know how to—”

Your sentence is cut off mid-way when the train abruptly runs into a bump on the tracks, forcing Minghao’s body against yours when he momentarily loses his footing. It’s an accident, and you wouldn’t have minded since some turbulence in this part of the city isn't rare at all. But that split second where Minghao got thrown against you from the impact made you all too cognizant of how thin the material of both your skirt and his sweatpants are.

“Sorry, sorry,” Minghao sighs before bracing an arm towards one of the walls to your left. The rustle of his clothes gives rise to the scent of his cologne wafting to your nostrils—a fresh, not-too-musky aroma that makes your head spin despite.

Just your luck, the train pitches to the side and you feel Minghao’s groin brush against your ass once again. This time, you’re not strong enough to hold down the soft whimper that tumbles out of your lips, and you don’t even feel ashamed about it.

Suddenly, you remember a time from back then where you’d spend your nights getting off to the same man who’s unknowingly sparking your arousal in the unlikeliest of places. You’ve once fucked yourself to the thought of him, so what’s the use with getting embarrassed now? As long as he doesn’t know, you should be fine.

Except Minghao isn’t deaf, and he definitely picked up on that suggestive little noise you just made.

Experimentally, he lets one of his hands dip lower and lower until his fingertips brush the hem of your skirt. That sinfully short skirt that keeps riding up your thighs every time you do a rather bold move during practice. His eyes are completely trained on you even if you’re still facing the corner, and when he feels you shiver, all the blood in his system rushes down south.

“You’re into this?” Minghao chuckles, bracing his hands on your hips before sliding his growing arousal against the ridge of your ass. “My… I didn’t think mending our friendship again would go this swimmingly. How about I take you out to dinner first?”

“Hao!” you chastise him with a poisonous look, but from the way you subtly rock your hips in time with his movements, Minghao can tell that dinner is the last thing on your mind right now.

He chuckles softly, keeping one hand steady on your hip while the other dips beneath your skirt again. When his fingers immediately press down against the gusset of your underwear, Minghao has to bite down a groan because of the wet patch that’s already accumulated at the center. 

“Not only did you ditch your shorts, but you’re already this wet? From a little grinding?” he hisses into your ear. “Needy fucking slut.”

You can’t help the way your pussy clenches at the harsh name he just called you. It’s all so strange. You never once reacted this way whenever he called you a bitch or anything similar, but you suppose when you’ve made amends with a friend you’ve secretly been wanting to fuck since you first laid your eyes on him, there’s no use keeping up any charades.

“Your hatred was all just an act, isn’t it?” he laughs, nudging your underwear to the side so he can get a feel of just how wet you areas you spread your legs to accommodate him. “Do you rile me up on purpose because you can’t deal with the fact that you actually want me?”

"You're delusional," you bite back.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

Another low laugh rumbles in his chest and you swear you don't get wetter with each hum of it as he presses closer to your ear. "Lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart."

You’re about to answer him when the announcer’s voice rings from the speakers yet again, saying that the next station is approximately five minutes away. This promptly rips you out of your lustful haze as you realize you’re very much still in public, where dozens upon dozens of passengers still share the same car with the both of you. Minghao seems to pick up on your split-second realization, but doesn’t seem fazed by the idea of getting caught doing this in the presence of strangers.

“Lots of passengers are going to get off at the next station, but not a lot are going to get on like the last one,” he whispers before plunging two of his fingers into your sopping cunt without warning. 

You have to physically cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself from gasping out loud. When you turn to look at Minghao again, eyes ablaze with disbelief, he simply flashes you an evil smile.

“If you want to come on my fingers, do it in five minutes, whore.”

The sensation of his long, slender digits curling inside you forces you to brace yourself against your tiny little corner of that train car. Your skin prickles everywhere as Minghao grinds his half-hard cock against your backside, all while he works between your pussy lips as if he’s thought about it dozens of times before. 

His digits dip in and out of your entrance like he doesn’t know what he wants to do first. Poke and prod at every inch of sensitive flesh there is or fuck you until you’re a moaning mess for everyone to see. Either way, you’re panting all while Minghao maps the expanse of your pussy with his touch alone, and every time those sinful fingers brush against your clit, you jolt in response.

“Shh,” he coos. “Don’t be too obvious, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want the entire train knowing how much of an impatient fucking slut you are—whoring all over my fingers ‘cause you can’t wait to get off the train.”

You involuntarily clench at his filthy words, begrudgingly unearthing a kink you didn’t even know you had. But at the mere mention of the other passengers, you let your eyes frantically pass over those nearby. You don’t know if they’re really preoccupied on their phones or pretending not to notice the act of indecency that’s happening right beneath their noses. The college boy that almost crushed you earlier is still banging his head to whatever song is playing on his phone, and you take that as a sign to let yourself go.

“Now that won’t do,” Minghao tuts before sliding his fingers back inside you, nudging your thighs even further apart before curling his digits just so. “How can you come in five minutes if you’re so distracted?”

“F-Fuck,” you whine as quietly as you can. “Hao, f-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” he laughs softly and your vision goes black for a moment when you feel his thumb graze your clit with just the right pressure. Just how dextrous can he be? “Then focus on my fingers, sweetheart. If you can’t come before the train arrives at the next station, maybe I’ll just go back to hating you tomorrow after all.”

You nearly choke on a moan when he starts to rub your sensitive nub in varying pressures and speeds, nearly robbing you of your ability to speak. “You’re a f-fucking asshole, you know that?”

“You’re a fucking bitch, but see where that got you now?”

It’s almost like you’re hard-wired to rebut everything he says, and you have all those months of shared antagonism to thank for it. But when Minghao crooks his fingers at a slightly different angle, your already sore legs nearly give out when his fingers hit you deep enough to make stars dance in the seams of your vision.

“Oh?” He sounds so smug, you actually want to hit him. “There it is.”

You can hardly believe it. You can barely find your own g-spot even on good days if you don’t put your back into using your toys right, yet Minghao got it in less than five minutes, inside a train full of passengers, no less?

Your brain has all but fizzled out when the pads of his fingers start to massage that sweet, sweet spot inside of you again—milking your body for all those lovely reactions you’re so willing to give to him. Minghao’s cock is an ever-present weight against your ass, but this isn’t about him. It’s about you, and how badly he wants to feel you come apart on his fingers right here, right now.

“You liked being fingered on the train, sweetheart?” Minghao rasps into your ear, relentless in his movements as tears start to line your lashes. “Like it when you supposedly hate the man that’s doing this to you? That’s made you this fucking wet?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You’d let him stick his dick into you right now if he wanted, but you know that Minghao isn’t going to risk that just yet. So instead, you focus on the sensation of those skillful fingers—the same ones you’ve dreamt about a long time ago—coaxing out a high you never thought you’d achieve outside the four corners of your bedroom. 

You can think about his stroke game later. Those powerful thighs as he thrusts into you. Not to mention how euphoric it would feel to come around his cock, milking him for that white-hot release until it dribbles down your thighs and he inevitably fucks it all back into you—

The stimulation of Minghao’s dexterous digits coupled with the thrill of being caught are the main players for today’s debauchery, but it’s that particular fantasy that pushes you over the edge. 

One moment, you feel like you’re on top of the world again, and the next you can taste blood in your mouth with how hard you bite against your lip to muffle your moans. A gush of slick coats Minghao’s fingers as he helps you ride out of your orgasm, peppering the side of your face with butterfly kisses.

“Pretty little whore, coming in record time,” he chuckles.

You can barely just start taming your breathing when Minghao takes his fingers out of your panties—tugging your skirt down back to semi-decency before prodding those same fingers against your lips. Still dazed from the high he just let you experience, you open your mouth, lathering your tongue against each digit as the tangy taste of you fills your tastebuds. 

“Good fucking girl.”

The train eases into the next station, and just as Minghao predicted, the car frees up just enough for you to get comfortably seated by the windows again. He sits right next to you the whole time—hand never straying from yours as he holds it firmly in his. For some reason, that gesture of his flusters you more than the stunt he just pulled five minutes ago.

When you both get off the vehicle, the awkwardness begins to settle in your system. You don’t know what you’re supposed to say to him after all of...that. Is there even a protocol to follow after getting finger-fucked on public transportation?

“Hey.”

You startle when Minghao breathes out while the two of you make your way out of the station. It’s the first time he’s broken the silence since arriving, and your heart pounds in anticipation of what he’s about to say next.

“I really am sorry for all the shit I said to you these past few months,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his head like he’s just as clueless about what to do as you are.

You blink up at him. “Um, yeah. You already told me, Hao.”

“I just figured it was worth repeating.”

“Giving me a mindblowing orgasm is a good enough apology on its own, you know.”

He stops walking for a moment, and you look back at him with brows raised.

“Really now?” he asks, and—there’s that smirk again. That no good smirk. “I don’t think I’ve received a ‘good enough apology’ from you yet, sweetheart.”

One glance at his sweats, and sure enough, the evidence of his own raging arousal is still up for grabs. You feel your pussy tingle at the mere thought of what’s to come once you voice out your agreement, even if your overworked muscles are begging for a break.

Oh, well. Might as well stock up on more painkillers on the way.

⟢ end notes: i really really REALLY went overboard on this one and there isn't even any piv sex in action holy fucking shit LMFAO TT to lovely user yourfavoritefreakyhan, i hope i didn't scare you off with the word count JSHFD I REALLY JUST GOT CARRIED AWAY AHAHS hao has been testing me for DAYS and it manifested in this . anyway, pls don't expect every request from my ask game to turn out this fucking long bc this rly was just a heat of the moment creation AJSDHSJHF

#svthub #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #the8 smut #minghao smut #seventeen x reader #minghao x reader #lovelyhan #🎲 ask games #yourfavoritefreakyhan #🐇 500 #full length fic 📚 #💭 request

[starillusion13]

MINE TO KILL

Pairing: Royal!Yunho x f!reader (ft.Wooyoung & Seonghwa)

Genre: Royal, Mature, Enemies to (?), Smut, Angst

W.C: 11k (don’t ask me why so long)

Warnings: mention of - to kill someone and threats, death, memories, lots of crying, raw sex(don’t do it sillies), nipple play, oral(f), lots of kiss, twins(?), jealousy, fingering, orgasm denial, soft love, crying, scared, mention of torture, open cut with knife, loss of blood, forcing into (a slight dub-con), false visions, going psycho, stabbing who(?) find it out. Regrets and manipulation. Playing with someone’s feelings and emotions.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: Thanks for reading and reblogging. I appreciate all of your reviews and feel free to text me if you want. Spread love to others, not hate. I love Yunho when he is angry and guys finally I have identified my bias in Ateez I think it’s Yunho😃 dw it will change in my next fic lol

MINORS DONT INTERACT UNDER THE CUE!🔞

Let's see our Villain Yunho!

"Even if I go away..." she sharply inhaled and gulped the lump in her throat, turning her back to him to hide the tears which were shaking to fall from her eyes, her fist clutched the locket above her chest tightly in her grasp and bit her lower lip to exhale the silent sob which managed to escape, "...don't forget me. you...you are my everything. Even if we don't deserve this, still we belong to each other and no one can ever change this fact."

His arms wrapped around her shaking body from behind and his nose bumping into her unsettled hairs from the wind earlier. Her soft hands placed over his palm and the rings displayed nicely on his fingers were bumping her strokes on his skin. Just like the way, her every happy moment was getting halted by that only person. who?

His lips touched her backside of the head, the heat of his lips and the breath fanning around the area was making her grip on him tighter.

"are you crying?" his whisper made her heart beat faster. Even if she was going to leave soon, his voice would be the reason to kill her sooner. The heavy and low tone with the concern dripping from every word for her, only for her. It sparkled a desire to live more. She wanted to live. to stay.

"...no..." she closed her eyes and ducked her head down.

He exhaled into her hair causing a shiver run down her body and he kissed the previous place again, "why are you lying, y/n? I said we will get over this and then we will be together for always."

"I don't have time...I have to go...far away...away from everything, from this place and......from you." she whispered the last two words and hearing that he quickly removed his arms and turned her around harshly, she stumbled in her place and still looking down. She didn't want to face him, knowing the effect on him after hearing her statement. She was prepared for this for a long time but couldn't say it earlier.

Or maybe she didn't want to say it. Even now.

He cupped her cheeks to make her look up. His eyes were furious with the anger after hearing the words of her leaving him. He was giving her the hopes to stay forever but still she was hoping to get away from him.

Closing her eyes, she refused to look at him, a tear slid down his cheeks but she couldn't see it and she gripped his wrist, the sleeves of his silk attire adorned with intricate golden embroidery that traced elegant patterns pierced her skin under the hold.

"Look at me, y/n." He was mad, not at her but at her words. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. He kept looking at her when his gaze fell on her quivering lips. She was scared but why.

"Are you scared of me?" His question was broken just like his soul seeing her so weak in front of him.

She quickly denied it by shaking her head furiously. His hands over her cheeks made her still. His eyes followed the way her tongue wetted the dry lips. Her tongue was not enough for her dry lips.

He ducked his head to her shoulder as he whispered, "let me prove you that I can love you and I will protect you forever."

"Please don't say like that. I can't forgive myself for leaving you."

He scoffed, "then don't leave me. Why can't you stay?"

She remained silent. He raised his head and brought his lips to her. Just a breath away, he stopped. His tear line touched her cheek, the liquid sensation made her flinch and his breath so close to hers sent an ache to the heart. Both of theirs.

He murmured, his lips bumping into her quivering ones, "why can't I know the truth? What are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing." You breathed out the words.

He slowly pecked you, "then stay with me."

"I can't."

One hand entangled in the hairline on the back of her head and other resting on the nape, he pulled her into a kiss. He was craving for it. His desire to taste her even though he had tasted her a lot of times before but still felt like it was the first time.

No but he didn't know it was his last time.

A tear drop escaped her eyes. she lost the war to hold back the tears from him. the kiss tasted bitter sweet and yet the melody of the beat was same from her heart, filled with love. sweet for the passion and longingness for each other and bitter for the pain in their heart for the lost hope of living forever.

he stopped the moving of his lips but stayed as close as possible. his lips mixed with their saliva which running down to his jaw, his lips travelled to her cheeks planting soft kisses and moving down to the jaw and kissing the skin which was longing for him. pulling her dress off the shoulder, she whispered his name. her whimpers made him kiss harshly on the exposed shoulder and bit all the sweet and soft spots he was familiar with. her lips softly kissed his ear. their sweet smells intoxicating each other's nose and making them pull towards the other even more. he pulled his head back.

she gripped his wrist tightly, whining for the lost of his lips. his forehead rested onto hers and closed his eyes. she finally looked at him. the moon reflected in her eyes, the breeze blowing silently, the loose materials adorning their body swaying with the wind, shivers running through their skin but the love of each other keeping them warm.

"Don't make me regret for leaving you."

"I will make you regret. I can't afford losing you even if I have all the royalties, money and everything that everyone desire of. it's nothing compared to you. please..." he was sobbing. she had never seen him so vulnerable and weak because he had a noble and prestigious status to maintain and his ambition was always to win.

but somehow he lost, the day he met you.

"call me selfish but I want you to remember me. Remember our each moment we spent together. Remember the things I have told you. Remember our love and our memories...Remember us." she said and cupped his cheeks to make him look directly towards her. she smiled to him and he did the same. she taught him many things and he will always remember them. 

How can he just forget you?

"If you die. I will be the one to kill you. I am selfish for you." his tone was very familiar, the way he always shows his possessiveness over her. she sadly chuckled.

"I am not dying...I am just leaving but I'm always yours to kill." she hugged him and he pulled her closer to his embrace.

His to kill.

.

.

.

"Welcome back Prince Wooyoung. It's been honored to see the handsome young man after such a long time. How are you?"

The young man with the black glittery attire with jet black hair, a black coat with the same color bottom with some gold and silver embroidery lining the materials and some tracing patterns on the back and above the chest. A chain attached to the second button to the pocket on his left side. Every gem and jewellery over his body reflecting the sunlight peeking inside the grand hall of the palace. His black boots hitting the carpeted marbled floor and with each step the servants and maid bowing towards him. A sly smile resting in the corner of his lips and hands folded behind his back. Nodding his head causing the muscles from jaw to neck to move tightly, he acknowledged all the greetings and dismissed them.

Taking a glass of water from one servant, he sent a smile towards him with his bright eyes before turning towards the man who greeted him, "Seonghwa, what's with the formal greet? Atleast treat me like an usual person. I hate this royalty enough already now you don't give me more reasons. Well, fortunate enough I am fine and I have something to show you all."

Seonghwa was in royal attire with a white fringed sleeve shirt with a corset and black loose bottom. Piercing eyes with loose black hairs falling over his forehead, few strands sticking to the sweat lining.

The older one laughed to his whines and patted his head, "I am glad to know that you are fine enough after the long trip. Stop being so dramatic now and what's the thing you want to show?"

"We need this other person to be here as well. Talking about him, where is he though? I expected him to be the one standing at the entryway." he said and took a place on one the two loveseats. everything around him was screaming the royalty but he was looking as if a young boy pressured to be the one to carry the crown of a prince.

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment before replying, "He might be busy with works but I hope he will be happy with the news of your arrival."

"what? you haven't informed him about me?" he frowned and placed the glass on the table.

"It's not like that, he-"

"Woo. you are back?" a deep voice echoed to the walls of the hall. the guards behind the door were also attentive to this person, the birds even remained still and the sunlight coming from the window directly falling over him, admiring his black hairs with the black lace around his neck. the black loose shirt hugging his body and the similar jet black bottom admiring his body proportion with the golden embroidery black coat hanging on his one arm. the thumb played with the ring in the index finger and then moving to the middle finger. His shadow was the most dominating one in the palace at that moment and Seonghwa felt intimidated before the look but nodded in his direction when his gaze fell on him.

The younger boy had a wide smile across his face and jumped up to run towards the person who just now announced his presence inside the hall. His arms flew up to wrap around the tall figure who wasted no time to welcome him to his embrace. He missed his love so much. Seeing the excited younger one, he patted his back before pulling apart.

"How was your training?"

"Yunho. I missed you. it was so difficult without you teaching me in a smooth way. they were so harsh and Hongjoong. he was always there to scold me. It would have been better if Seonghwa had went there with me instead of him." Wooyoung made an annoyed face which brought little smiles on other two males.

Seonghwa chuckled, "I am gladly sending this speech to him."

"Oh shut it." Wooyoung glared at him before turning to his elder brother, "Well there is someone I want you to meet."

"Yeah, he was telling me earlier that he wants to show us something. I don't know if I am allowed to be here or not." Seonghwa said in an unsure tone.

Yunho turned towards the older one, "of course you are welcomed to everything. you are like a brother to me and to us." He side eyed his younger brother.

Wooyoung nodded and clasped his hands together to call a maid towards him. The maid bowed towards them and waited for his order. He whispered something to her and she nodded before taking her leave.

"Let's welcome her." He smiled towards them and waited near the door.

"Her?" Seonghwa was confused but having a concern look over his face when he glanced towards Yunho who was sitting on the chair beside the table. He was quiet and gripped the knife tightly in his hold.

Wooyoung just nodded and looked away. Seonghwa sighed and walked towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Where is she?"

"She is in the guest room beside my room to freshen up and I asked the maid to call her here. Before you ask me anything else, I met her during the trip to the kingdom. She was the one who kept me alive after Hongjoong's daily torture."

Seonghwa smiled at him.

Someone knocked on the grand metal door. Both of their attention went towards the door and saw a young woman standing in a light blue gown with sleeves hanging slightly from her shoulder with white straps over it. The dress was plain and the hairs loosely resting on the shoulder and locks falling to the side of her face. Tugging the hair behind her ear, a smile sent out to them.

"Hello..."your soft voice made Seonghwa's breath hitches. Wooyoung skipped his steps towards you and embraced you with his arms.

Hearing the voice, Yunho threw the knife across the room. Seonghwa looked at him and he was both scared and concerned. He quickly went towards him and held his hand when he was about to throw the spoon again. Wooyoung was too distracted with you.

"This is the one I was talking about. Meet my savior, y/n from Utopia."

Y/n...

Yunho stood up and pushed the man away to look at his brother and you. He was furious. The muscles around his jaw and neck turned red with clenched fingers and teeth and staring at them with rage.

"Who is she?" He asked with a dark look.

Wooyoung was confused with his sudden reaction but still introduced you to him.

"Y/n..." Yunho repeated the name, he tasted the word in his tongue and it tasted bitter and sweet at the same time. He scoffed and stood in front of you, "and why are you here?"

You were scared and pleading for help from Wooyoung who gave you a smile. "Yunho, don't scare her. She is new here and we will be getting married soon."

Yunho bitterly laughed, "Marrying? Are you serious? Do you even know her?"

"Yunho...you said you will allow me to marry anyone."

"Anyone but" he glared at you, "her."

He turned away and walked towards the door. Seonghwa followed him in close behind and when his gaze fell over you, you saw hatred in them similarly like the other. You gulped and clutched the man's hand beside you, he patted you.

.

.

.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't look in my way." You apologized and looked back and you bowed towards him, "your honor, Prince Seonghwa."

"Just stop with your acting already. Tell me why you are here. Don't give false excuses." He was glaring and his words were dipped in hatred.

Since the day you started living in the palace, you have seen the similar hatred in their eyes. Their every stare felt like they were about to kill you.

Even Yunho attempted to corner you one day with a knife in his grip and held it to your throat while he was gripping your other arm tightly. You were scared but he was not fazed by that look but when a tear fell from your eyes, a glint of regret, a flick of sadness occurred in his eyes. He loosened his grip and you managed to run away from him.

You sent a confuse look towards Seonghwa after his question and shook your head slowly, "what are you saying? I'm here with Wooyoung."

"You are with him because now he is the easy catch for you. Leave him before Yunho or I will kill you."

"You won't be attempting this wild thing. It's not what you want to do with me. Think about it again. Can you really kill me?" You stood closer to him and smirked. "Can you live in peace after killing me...after killing y/n?"

You bumped into his side before leaving him there. He sighed in his place.

You were right even if he threatened you, he could not kill you.

But what about the other one.

"What are you doing here?" Your voice made him roll his eyes but still facing his back to you. You sighed and stood beside him and leaned over the railing to pick a flower.

"Don't even dare to touch it."

You played with the flower between your fingers and replied, "but I love these flowers. Y/n loves theses flowers a lot. Look at them, these are so sweet." you turned towards him and he was staring at you. you smiled when your gaze fell on the locket around his neck. his silver bodysuit with wide neck making it highlighted. "that locket has the same flower."

"don't speak about this flower from your filthy mouth." he spat at you and you nodded. 

"why do you hate me so much? as far as I know, you really can't hate me or harm me."

"Do you really want to hear? Then listen..." he gripped your jaw and stared at you furiously and you kept a neutral expression, "I hate that you are here. I hate everything about you, your face, your voice, your gaze and...you."

"So basically I need to change my whole being and that's not even possible because people love me for who I am. Well, I can't spend a minute more here to hear your shits so better learn to accept me or leave this place for a while because I will be here for a long time and I'm not leaving soon. I will take my leave for now,Prince Yunho or should I say Yuyu."

"Y/n!" He shouted your name and a smirk appeared on your face before turning your back to him, walking away towards your designated room. "I will see how you are going to stay here. I will kill you before you can even realize. Y/n is only mine." 

two days later.

You were shocked to hear the news that Yunho left the palace for a while and he won't be returning soon and no one was aware of his day of return. you leaned back into your chair and sighed.

"Why are you not eating? what happened?" Wooyoung asked you while munching on his food. Shaking your head, you pout and held your fork near your nose to inhale the scent of the delicious food and hummed in satisfaction. he chuckled to your reaction.

"This smells so delicious, Woo. I am craving for it even though I haven't tasted it yet." you took a bite and your eyes went wide with the taste melting on your tongue.

"Then eat it. There's a lot and you can have as much as possible." You nodded to him and started eating other dishes. You felt someone's gaze boring hole on you and you smiled to yourself before locking your gaze with the man across from you. He didn't touch his food but was gripping the juice glass tightly with clenched jaw towards you. 

"Here. have this, you haven't started eating anything. are you not happy with me being here?" you offered the side dish to Seonghwa and casted a glance towards Wooyoung who smiled to your gestures and laughed to him across the table.

"Of course not. He is really happy with your presence and he is just not used to being around a girl in this palace. Right, Hwa?" 

The older one glared at you before replying, "Woo. I am well aware of how to react to a girl's presence but I don't know how to react to her. I think she has said something to him for which Yunho left so early and didn't even inform anyone when will he return. I hope Mingi sent us some news soon or I will kill her." He stood up, making the chair fell behind and before glaring at your direction, he went off to the garden.

"Seonghwa!?" Wooyoung shouted.

"What happened to him?" you asked with the teary eyes.

Wooyoung pulled you and calmed you down, "Hey, it's okay y/n. Dont be scared. I think he is disturbed with something. I will talk to him."

you nodded and both of you proceeded to eat when he told one maid to serve Seonghwa his food in his room.

It's been one week you haven't seen Yunho since he left that day without telling anyone where he went. You asked Wooyoung about his brother's whereabouts but he was even not aware of anything as well. You both were on the same boat. After the commotion you had with Seonghwa during the lunch, you saw him very less and even if he comes across you, he ignores you as if you don't exist. You felt hurt that two of them don't appreciate your presence but still you were trying to win their heart, win their trust that you were there for a home.

You always wanted to stay with your loved one.

You smiled to the thought of Wooyoung. He was busy with archeries since last morning and you were keeping yourself busy with wandering around the palace and getting familiar with the people.

The servants, maids and the soldiers were all very polite and strict to their schedules while on duty but they really treated you nicely. They referred you as the best princess for the kingdom, Halazia. 

"Y/n is always the best one and our dear princess."

This compliment always made your heart warm and forgetting about those two who hate you, a feeling of being loved surrounds you.

When you took a turn towards the stairs, you watched the sun setting down slowly and the dusk welcoming the dark sky to cast upon the palace. But as soon as you looked away to your front, you made eye contact with the elder prince, Yunho.

He is back? when? you smiled towards him and walked closer to him. his expression was neutral, you were not clearly understanding his intention but still you slowly approached him. 

"Yunho...you are back. How are you?"

he scanned your face and you noticed his eyes were red and cheeks were red and he couldn't stand properly without a support. when he was about to lose his balance, you gripped his side and balanced him with holding his arm and waist. "Hey, are you okay?"

"What are you doing here?"

you ignored his question and pulled him towards the door. he was quite heavy for you but still you managed to push open the door with him in your hold. He was whining like a baby and hiccupping when you pulled him towards the bed. 

Your white night gown was so low in appearance to his extra-ordinary embroidery prince suit. you managed to take off his coat and shoes with the jewelleries. he was repeatedly asking you why you were there and why you were helping him, this and that but you just smiled towards him and tucked him in the bed. his eyes were closed but you offered a glass of water and urged him to drink, first he refused you but eventually drank it and fell to his back. placing the glass on the table, you approached to his side and kept staring at him. his pale soft skin was tinted with red but his dark personality was hidden behind the whining little boy in front of you. His puffy cheeks were urging you to pinch them but you shook off the thought and turned around when he grabbed your hand.

"Y/n...please don't leave me...please stay."

your breath hitched to his request. you couldn't believe he was urging you to stay with him. you gulped but didn't turn back because your scared eyes were fixed towards the door. you hoped someone to enter but neither Seonghwa nor Wooyoung was at the palace for the moment.

you slowly turned around and held his wrist softly. "Yunho, you are drunk. you don't know what you are saying. I should leave now and sleep. you must be tired after returning back."

His eyes shot open and he was crying, he sat up and pulled you on the bed and embraced you in a hug. "please, y/n. why are you doing this to me? please...please don't leave me again. I can't stay without you."

again...

you patted his back, "Yunho...please sleep."

"No. please let me show you that no one can else can love you more than me. I am the only one for you. we are for each other."

"Yunho-"

before you could say anything more, he connected his lips with you. your eyes went wide and even when you tried to push him, he pinned you down. he was hungry for your kiss. biting down your lips, you cried in pain and wiggled under his hold. his tongue explored your mouth, teeths clashing to each other and he sucked your tongue. he was tasting every inch of your corner. his lips kissed your jaw, your throat and his face rested in the nape of your neck, he breathed out and his lips nibbled the area before biting down the area.

"please stop it. Yunho, I...I..." you were sobbing but he hugged you tightly. "y/n please please don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"you are not hurting me but it feels wrong doing this."

he pulled apart and pushed you on your back, your head hitting the pillow and his fingers entangled with yours when he hovered on top of you, "nothing is wrong when I am making love with my y/n. you are mine and I can do anything for you and to you."

"but-"

"please..." his pleading with teary eyes made you nodding to him. you agreed to obey him, to let him do anything to you.

you smiled when he returned to kiss the areas where he bit you earlier. he pulled down your night gown, untying the loose knots and pulling the materials down which were blocking your intimate areas. you felt shy under his gaze. his face was attached to your skin. he gripped your palms tighter, flexing his muscles and veins popping out from his hand, neck and forehead. you eyes rolled back when he plopped a nipple in his mouth and toying with the other. your fingers entangled with his hairs.

He has done this before. Same feelings he has made you feel it again and again but still you love it each time.

"Yunho..."

"Only I can make you feel like this. only I am allowed to love you. Only me. Y/n is only mine. No one can have her other than me."

the way he is saying your name, it felt like he was talking about someone else to you. he was referring someone else. his grunts and groans filling your ears, making you squirm under him. his hand left your breast and move down to undo his pants and quickly remove them. he was impatient and so was you.

he was impatient to have you and you were impatient in fear to get caught by someone, maybe Wooyoung.

he planted a kiss between your breasts, right under the heart. a tear drop fell on the place and he closed his eyes. 

his red and hard member dripping with precum toyed with your heat, you squirmed and whined when his tip rubbed your entrance, you moaned out and his mouth left your nipples and bit the soft areas around it. his juicy tortures of the lips and teeth trailed to your jaw before planting a long kiss on your anticipating lips.

"Yunho...please..."

"Have patience, Y/n. Take it slow. We have the time for whole night." his thumb rubbed circles on your clit and suddenly he pushed himself inside you. you cried out with the stretch and the pain but he didn't wait for you to adjust and started thrusting faster and harder. His pace quickening and when you caught his gaze on you. he was glaring at you.

"This is what you wanted, right?" he clenched his teeth and gripped your jaw when you tried to look away. "Tell me. Am I making you feel good?"

Tears falling from your eyes and his glare made you clench around his member. he scoffed when he hit you deeper. your hand gripped his forearm and urged him to slow down but he pinned you down more and wrapped his fingers around your throat.

"You can't say anything? huh? such a filthy one. you are already dumb with this. Tell me that you are mine. Tell me y/n. who do you belong to?"

"Cum...I want to cum...Yunho please..."

"Shut up. I am asking you to tell me who do you belong to? Cant you answer it?" you choked when his grip tightened around your throat and he was putting more pressure on to the side.

"Should I stop?"

"No no. please..." you coughed out and his gaze darkened. 

there was a fear in your eyes. you were not sure if he was loving the moment with you or he was trying to kill you but the rage in his eyes was bold than the fire and the gaze darker than the night sky. there was a void in his eyes, you couldn't see any love while he was deep buried inside you but there was a cover of hatred.

when he quickened his pace and it became uneven, you were sure he was near but when he was about to cum, he pull out and spilled his seeds on the sheets. you whined for the lose of his touch but moreover you whined because you wanted to cum.

"you are not allowed to cum because you didn't reply me."

"Please..."

"Leave my room before I will do something to you." He waited and watched you being still in your previous position, "I said LEAVE!"

you flinched to his shout and wrapping the gown around you somehow, you glanced at him. he didn't look to your direction and you left his room. the moment his door was shut, he started crying. 

"what have I done? why? I'm sorry y/n...I'm sorry." he clutched the locket around his neck and sobbed to himself.

.

.

“Stop running around, y/n . You will fall. Seonghwa will scold me that I have let his precious one to fall down.”

“First catch me then only I will stop.” Her laugh echoed around the hall and the said man watched them playing around the palace. He loved her like his own sister and watching her so happy made his heart warm.

“You are running too fast. Those gowns are not safe to run around in.”

“Just accept that you are a weak Prince, yuyu.”

.

"Tell me y/n, why are you here again?" Seonghwa's eyes were red and he was holding your hand, preventing you to leave the place and go back to the party. you were cursing yourself to come here alone without Wooyoung and annoyedly, you wiggled your arm from his grasp.

"what's your problem, Seonghwa? I won't tell you anything. Leave my hand. you are hurting me." 

"And you are hurting me with false hope. please tell the truth. I am begging you."

"Seonghwa, it's better if you go on your own way and let be on mine."

"Y/n."

"Don't say my name. I am tired of hearing this name with you all behaving so pathetic around me. Just stop with your nonsense already." you rolled your eyes and pushed away his hand.

You caressed your wrist and continued, "you all look really pathetic. how you are you going to manage your whole kingdoms on your own when you all are so weak and giving false threats to a girl."

"Don't test my patience, y/n. Why are you here again?"

"Are you not tired of asking the same question since day one. Stop it. I am with Wooyoung here and we are getting married soon. also after he will convince his brother and I will be the princess of Halazia. Oh wait, I will be the Queen."

he stood close to you and glared, "so you are here to take over this place. To rule this kingdom. You are using Wooyoung to get the access to the core."

"that's an intelligent prince there. Maybe, I'm here for the exact reason." you smirked and held his wrist. "even if I'm here so close to you but you can't even kill me. You won't hurt me because you don't have the courage to do it."

Seonghwa pulled his hand away from you and turned around and when he was about to exit the door, you laughed and said, "atleast Yunho hasn't notice it yet. He is yet to find out the reason behind me being here."

You watched how he harshly opened the door and without even glancing back, he went out. you knew you had triggered his emotions.

but what emotions exactly?

"And you thought I won't notice?"

You flinched to the sudden dark voice from the stairs. The ceiling lights and the lamps had a warm radiant but those lights were still piercing on your skin. As if the hatred inside you was adding to the heat of the lights.

Your piercing eyes reflected the shining light of the light chain decorated on the railings. You gripped the glass tighter in your hand, feeling the anger rising in you to watch him descending the stairs.

He should slip a step and fall from the stairs in front of you.

The boots hit to the marbled stairs slowly, the walk was slow, too slow to let you hear each sound of his boot precisely and clearly.

Your glares directed towards him made his corner of the lip to tug upwards slightly. He watched you intently and noticed your slight fear which you were trying to hide it but still couldn't. At this point, the grip on the glass could have broke it easily but somehow it didn't break.

Maybe like the hatred inside you was enough to burn him but the slight fear was more powerful to hold it back.

"Why are you here?" You hissed.

He eyed the glass in your grip and walked forward to stand a bit too close to your liking. you were glued to the ground. you wanted to run away but still something inside you was forcing you to face, face him like the royal you are. are you strong enough? maybe not. he is more powerful than you. both in morals and money.

"If I say...for you?" he said and leaned forward to inhale the perfume. he hummed near your ear, "same sweet smell. It always remind me of the night. don't you miss the day?"

"Never. why can't you just forget about it?"

he chuckled and stood straight, "oh it's too perfect and interesting to remember. how can I just let that sweet moment slip through my mind. I am carving it on a campus to make it remember even if I have amnesia one day."

you gritted your teeth and raised the glass to throw the wine at him but he was quick to get a hold of your hand and took away the glass from you. you glared at him but he just smirked at you and brought the glass to his lips, maintaining an eye contact with you. you could hear some people passing by the passage through outside the main door of this hall in the backyard of the palace. you glanced to the direction of the door and hoped someone to enter so that you could escape his grip because your strength was nothing to his.

the voices became distant and the hope inside you died down with the rising of the bubble of fear.

"I hope you soon have the amnesia and so that I can kill you by myself." you wiggled your hand under his grip.

he ignored you and asked, "have you drink this? did your lips touched the glass?"

"why? will you drink from it now?"

he poked his inner cheek and smirked widely, "oh! I am craving for the lips from that night and if you don't give me the honor to devour them again then I have to do it in this way."

"Yunho, mind your words." you threatened him only to get a loud laugh from him. he threw his head back and amusedly watched his grip on your wrist. the image from that night flashed in front of his eyes. the same way you were whimpering under this hold and begging to him.

"But you loved every words from me when I was choking you." He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Please stop it."

"And if I don't?" He loosened his grip on your wrist and as soon as you stepped backward, he harshly grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him. "Does Wooyoung know about this?"

"About what?" You hissed at him because the grip was leaving red marks on your arm and the fingers on his fingers were pressing on your skin.

The touch was filled with hatred or love?

It's visible that it's all about the hate for you.

"About us? The love we shared that night. The way I made you feel good." He leaned to your level to whisper into your ears, his breath hitting your nape and you shivered, "the way I marked you mine. When in the first place you are always his."

"There is nothing called us. That night was a mistake. Don't talk about it again. I don't want Wooyoung to know about it. I am never yours."

He sipped the wine from your glass and closed his eyes, humming in the taste of the liquid. You watched him in disgust. Gulping down the glass, he noticed your glare.

He paused to stare at the door and when the voice of the person on the other side became distant and he noticed that you were distracted.

He threw the glass across the room and glared at you. You flinched to his sudden action and his grip tightened.

"y/n...y/n...y/n..." He sang your name and his voice and the name coming out from his mouth sent a shiver down your spine. He noticed your little gulp and harsh turned you around and flushed your back against his chest.

"Y/n and Yunho...isn't our name fit nicely together?" He darkly chuckled in your ears. His one hand grabbing your arm tightly and the other placed on your throat. The hand was caressing the skin around when he suddenly squeezed it.

Your choking sound made him smile widely and in satisfaction he whispered, "it will be so fun to kill you, y/n."

You scoffed, "is that a threat?"

He chuckled amusedly, "why? Does that sound like a compliment?"

He loosened his grip around your throat, you coughed out and took deep breaths but he held you against his body.

"Leave me, Yunho."

"I will only leave you when I will kill you." He gripped your jaw and made you face him. His glares were strong, his muscles tight against the jaw and neck and the gritted teeth hissing at you.

"Then kill me."

"Y/n. Y/n, where are you?" Wooyoung's voice echoed around the place and you both could hear it. You broke the stare with him and looked towards the door when the door was pushed open.

Yunho changed your position and placed his hand on your cheek and other still holding your arm. Smiling at you and you stared at him in confused silence.

Why is he suddenly acting like this?

Wooyoung entered the hall and found you either Yunho, he smiled at your form who was held by his brother. You both were facing side to him. Yet to notice his approaching steps towards you.

"There you are my love. What are you doing here, y/n? That even with Yunho?" He was smiling all the way and when he reached near you, you pushed Yunho's hand and hugged Wooyoung.

Wooyoung smiled and patted your head in his embrace and with confused looked at his brother.

"What happened to her?"

Yunho chuckled, "she lost her balance in this dress and her glass fell from her grasp so I was just helping her out."

Wooyoung nodded and felt your hug tightened around him. You clutched his coat tighter and closed your eyes in anger.

These brothers were always different from each other. Wooyoung was in red attire representing his love and passion for you. Whereas Yunho in black attire radiating luxury and power in elegance shooting towards you.

"Are you okay, y/n?" You nodded to his question and he urged you to stand straight. He signaled his brother that he would like to leave the place with you to spend some time and his brother nodded. He guided you towards the door and you followed him either your hand entangled with his and looking down. You could feel a stare burning hole on your back but you didn't look back.

Yunho's eyes followed till you both exited the door and took a turn. As soon as you were out of his sight, he grabbed his hairs and pushed back in annoyance.

"I will kill you, y/n." He clenched his jaw and glared at the way from where you left with his brother.

"Always remember that you are mine." He exhaled heavily and clenched his fist where his knuckled turned white and the palm was almost flushed red with slight edge of the nails digging into his skin.

"Mine to kill."

y/n is his.

.

.

"Aw you are looking so pretty. My beautiful one. this flower really suits you. I will make a whole palace with a garden of these flowers just so you can look this mesmerizing when playing among them." He said and hugged her tight.

"you love me too much. even if it's too cold out here but your words are making my heart warm." she said and turned around to put the flower behind his ear, "this look good on you. I love this flower and I love you so we both will live together in that palace."

he smiled at her and kissed her lips, surprising her with his sudden action. she was used to his playful nature but every time still he managed to surprise her. she was too naive for him and he swore to protect her at all cost.

"I love you, y/n."

she smiled and kissed him, murmuring into the lips, "I love you too, Yuyu."

Yuyu...

.

.

"y/n...where were you for one whole week? you didn't come to meet me for so long. Do you even know how much I have missed you?" she shook her head to the whiny man who was sitting in the middle of his bed and staring at her like a lost puppy who missed his owner.

"Am I your owner? you are a grown up man so learn to behave like that. Where are the etiquettes of a prince?" she folded her hands and raised a brow while questioning him. She yelped in surprise when he pulled her on his lap.

He was only covered in blanket and she knew if she just pulled a little bit of the corner, she would be greeted with the authentic sight of his perfectly pale and muscled body with his veins patterning under the skin. she wet her lips with the anticipation of what was coming next. The loose materials hugging her body was being removed slightly to get a better access to the places he desired. Gripping his shoulder, eyes closed, she bit her lips to hide the effect of his every touch on her. 

"Let me hear you, my princess."

she shook her head and when he bit the back of her ear, she moaned out his name and he lightly chuckled into her ear. It was as if her body gets pulled to his lips like a magnet. Everytime, if the tip of his finger touches her, the body ignites with the desire to get railed by him. she felt embarrassed with the thought and he was well aware of it and he loved to tease her about it.

Pumping the breast over the loose material somehow hanging from her body, his ears were blessed with the whines and moans from her. To tease her and push her to her limits, he grunted in her ears and when she tried to push him down on the bed, he laughed at her impatient state.

"Come on. Don't tease me. Please..."

"Y/n...you won't be ever leaving me, right?" he asked her while he was laying her down slowly, kissing the shoulder blades and marking her wherever he pleased to and then kissing away the pain. he brushed back the hairs from her face and smiled to her when she returned him the similar look.

"Never...you are not getting rid of me unless you are the one pushing me away."

"You are always pretty, y/n."

"Of course, for my handsome prince, I need to look always my best or it won't be fair." placing her arm around his neck, she pulled him into a kiss. he didn't mind but let her kiss him. he was rather enjoying her desperation to feel, to have him for herself. he smiled into the kiss and his hands toying around with her heat and breast and pressing the clothed nipples, making her gasp into the kiss. She pulled his hair and apart from the kiss and glared.

he laughed at her silly face, "what happened? desperate? for me?"

"Yes..." she breathed out, "show me how much you have missed me all these days. her hands travelled all over his back and caressed the bare skin. Taking a hold of her hands, he pinned them down and his look darkened with lust but his every word and action was filled with love.

"Be ready for me princess."

"Always for you…Fuck..." she gasped out and pressed her thighs tighter around his head. "that feels good..."

"Like this?" He hummed against her heat and nuzzled his nose on her clit making her whimpers louder and he was enjoying the sight of her squirming just under the effect of his tongue.

"Uh yes...yes... Like that...please" she replied breathlessly and gripped the sheets tightly.

"Yuyu..." she whimpered. "It feels so good... It's driving me insane..."

"Such a dirty one, aren't you, princess? You know I go crazy whenever you call me this name and still you are saying it now." he murmured against her throbbing ache. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No!" she exclaimed, thighs tightening further around his head. the pressure around his head made him gripped down her hip and continued with his abuse.

"Mmm..." He hummed as he added a finger making her cry out with the cold touch of his  rings to the heat, "you are so delicious..."

"Ahhhh..." she moaned loudly when she cummed inside his mouth. he gulped down the liquid and licked the area with his hot tongue. he slurped the juices as if he was starving for all these days. 

"Yuyu" she whimpered, "No more please...I need you"

"Yes... have patience, princess" he groaned and got up, hovering over her, squeezing her breasts harder. his dark gaze scanning her body, he smirked that she was all displayed like that and flushed red in front of him because of him, for him.

his fingers rubbed her leaking and aching heat and scissored it before he let her feel the tip of his hard member hitting her entrance. the precum dripped on her heat, mixing with her stained walls from her previous orgasm. He pulled back his hand from between her legs and sank down his hip onto hers. she gripped his arms and cried out with the stretch and his lips kissed the tear line and lips hovered over the closed eyes.

"Look at me love. Let me see those precious pearls."

she snapped her eyes open to find him already staring at her with amusement filled eyes and his hand was caressing her face and patting her head, whispering soft and encouraging words to forget the pain and focus on him because they were making love and love can be gained with a little pain. she grinned as she watched him throw back his head when he felt her clenching around him. he groaned and pushed his his hip faster and his muscles were flexing under the dimly light of the room. his fingers traced over the curves of her body and her nails dig into his back.

 She snaked a hand behind his head to pull him down for a kiss. The heated moment when their lips met, their bodies trembled in anticipation and the each little of their touch made them whine. he ran his fingers through her hair, stroking it gently. His lips gently grazed and his tongue licked her lips and she smiled. parting her lips slightly and felt his tongue slide against hers. His tongue traced along the every inch of her lips before sliding inside, tracing the outline of her teeth. His lips wrapped around her desperate tongue and sucked onto it.

She let out a muffled moan as he slipped a finger to rub her clit and push her to the edge. His finger slid inside of her and collected some juice. her breathing became heavier as her body heated up. With every flick of his tongue, every movement of his fingers, her arousal grew stronger and she whined. he could feel her trembling form under him, squirming and becoming weak. he pulled back his finger and urged her to stay still.

"open your mouth and eyes on me." she obeyed his command and soon he pushed his finger inside her mouth. he smirked when he watched her sucking his finger for the dear life, her back arching with the approach of her orgasm and he was near too. she grabbed his wrist and he knew she wanted to cum and he gripped her jaw and nodded. He glanced between her breast and smiled.

 she screamed with her climax, the walls clenched tightly and he felt her cum coating him. Waves of pleasure washed over her as her orgasm exploded within. closing her eyes shut tightly, she trembled uncontrollably.

"you look more beautiful like this, y/n..." He moaned and thrust faster, "mine. you are mine y/n...tell me who you belonged to....tell me."

"You...it's only you, Yuyu" she whimpered as her palms clutched tightly under his strong grip. "only yours, I can't take it anymore."

"Thank you love." He smirked. "That means I am making you feel good that no one else can."

"You like it when I fill you up, right princess?" he whispered into her ear. "Do you like feeling me deep inside of you?"

"yes yes..." she moaned out. "You feel so good Yuyu."

Soon he bottomed out inside her, she had felt his hot liquid filling her inside earlier a lot of times but every time, he felt so good. He made her look at him when he filled her with his seeds and the blissed out expression made him hummed in satisfaction. they both were tired and he slowly pulled himself out and fell over her. he pecked her lips and rested his head on her chest before planting a kiss on the place just under her heart between her breasts, fingers flicking the hard bud in front of his eyes. she whined and hit his hand. his laugh vibrated on her chest making her smile. 

"I love you, Yuyu...we will always make love like this. I want a happy future for us where no one can harm us and we will be enjoying our life with each other." she played with his hairs and stared at the ceiling, the flames from the chandelier lighting her eyes. his eyes were reflecting the flames from the candles decorated on the various shelf.

"Love...we are always together...in every universe...in every life. I can't lose you ever. No one will take you away from me. You are mine. I love you, my princess y/n."

His princess...

Then why are you his enemy now?

Does he not love you anymore?

what happened to him?

.

.

.

"what happened, y/n? searching for Wooyoung?" Yunho laughed in the end of his statement and you paused before retorting back at him when your gaze fell on his hand, holding a knife. you gulped and stepped back. you tried to run towards the door but Seonghwa closed it shut and stood before it with folded hands and a wide smirk plastered on his face.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked you and chuckled.

"Move. I need to leave. Wooyoung is waiting for me." you said annoyedly and he rolled his eyes.

Yunho laughed again and it was pissing you off and you turned around to glare at him. he raised a brow and held a glass. before you could contemplate his moves, he threw the wine towards you, making you drenched and your eyes went wide.

"What the hell you are doing?"

"Trust me. Wooyoung is not waiting for you and even if he is waiting for something then it's to hear the news of your death." he glared at you.

You scoffed, "and that won't be happening today. You...you can't kill me. You can't kill your Y/n."  you smirked and wiped off the liquid from your face. why the hell you were in that situation. you were hoping to atleast get someone out from between these two psychos but who was there to help you. No one. Wooyoung wants you dead.

What is going on?

"Oh he definitely can kill you." The man standing in front of the door said and glared at you. 

your confused look went back towards Yunho who was playing with the knife between his fingers. you gulped how his fingers swiftly swiveled the knife. your mind was storming with the thought that he won't harm you, he can't kill you.

you are his first love. his only love.

"Yuyu..."

"Don't say that name from your filthy mouth. I will cut off your tongue first."

you flinched to his shout and the choice of his words sent a shiver. he approached to your trembling form. he watched how tears were falling from your eyes and you were trembling under his gaze. the memories of you being in the same state before flashed in front of his eyes. his index finger wiped off a tear-drop. he watched it intently, he bit his lips to prevent his weakness to come out. His anger rose inside his body and furiously he watched how your eyes were shedding tears.

He stroke the knife up your arm and slashed it. your forearm burned with the cut and you shout out making him smirk and throw a dirty look at you. 

"Yunho! Are you crazy?" you pressed over the cut to prevent the blood flow out from your cut. you were scared and annoyed. how can he hurt you like this? he never liked you getting hurt. then why?

he again slashed on your other arm. you cried out in pain. you fell on your knees and hoping him to stop. Seonghwa was watching the whole incident but never stepping in front to stop him. He was somehow satisfied with the situation unfolding in front of him. you were sobbing and wishing to get away from him when he grabbed your jaw harshly, he was grinning at you.

"I am crazy. I am crazy for Y/n."

"You should not hurt who you love." you said between your hiccups.

"and how about you realize the same thing?" he grabbed your hair and pulled it backward, you hissed in pain and his eyes travelled all around your face. every inch was similar to that Y/n whom he loved, whom he cared. the one who taught him the beauty and flaws in life. the one who gave him hope to live. the one he treasured. the one whose memories he kept safe. the one whom he can't ever forget.

but the heart was not same like before.

that y/n had a warm and liberal heart and this y/n with a cold and greedy heart.

he scoffed and traced the knife with the lining of his face. your fearful eyes looking back at him, begging him to stop but he was nowhere near a pause. 

"Please. stop it. it hurts."

"it hurts her too." he replied quickly and you gulped. the tip of the knife pressed onto your cheek, slowly piercing it. "she was begging to stop too."

"who are you talking about?" you sobbed and continued, "you should only think of your y/n. I'm sorry I left you but please we can talk about it. I will explain."

"There is nothing  left to talk about. she left me. she left me forever. she is not coming back." he said and slashed his knife across your cheek. you let out a shrill cry and he smirked to the satisfaction. "maybe you have the same face but you cant be her."

"Yunho...I'm still your Y/n." 

"you are not her!!!" he chocked you with his fingers putting pressure enough to make your vision go blank for a moment, "You are not Y/n...Y/n is dead. Sana, you have killed her."

"Sana, you can never be y/n even if you are her twin sister." he pushed her back. She coughed out and caressed her throat before glaring back to him. the blood flowing out of the cut and her throat was marked with red fingerprint. 

"Yu-"

"are you still pretending to be her?" he placed the knife over her chest. "she cried to me. she cried to me that she didn't have time. she hoped for me to save her from her decisions. she said her goodbye to me but I thought just like the other day, she will again come back to me."

but she never did.

"why you had to kill her? you envied her so much that you had to erase her forever." he stabbed her thigh, her body jolted down and let out a shrill cry again, satisfying his ears. "she was crying for you to stop but you didn't listen."

he pulled out the knife and stabbed again, "you wanted money. you wanted this royalty. I would have given you everything but you killed her. That day I left all of a sudden because i didn't want you to know that I went to Utopia and I didn't expect that I will get to meet y/n. Not her but her last letters to me. Her aunt really kept them safe but she couldn't save her."

"stop.." he twisted the knife. "please..."

"she begged for you to stop. You didn’t. She promised you that she will not return to me that she will help you to get everything you want but you didn’t listen to her. You hit her, you hurt her, you tortured her and then killed her.”

“If she was alive then I could not have approached here. I used her to get to you.” Sana still managed to smirk, “I wanted you from her and this whole royalty.”

He pressed Sana’s wound on the arm and she hissed. “You didn’t only use her to get here but also you used my brother’s feelings. You played with his emotions. I want to torture you like you did with her but my patience is gone. I just want to kill you right now. Right here!”

He raised his hand with the knife, blood dripping from all the wounds he created earlier. Sana closed her eyes when he was about to stab her on the chest but he paused.

Sana opened her eyes slowly and watched that he was still in his previous position. “Before I kill you. Just know one thing. She didn’t die because you have stabbed her. She died because she was betrayed by you whom she loved so much. Her twin sister killed her. She felt losing the war with herself.”

Those were the last words Sana heard before he stabbed her.

he stared at her hooded eyes, "from today I will believe that I have killed her because she left me. I have killed my y/n with my own hands." He repeated the action so many times that Seonghwa ran towards him and hugged him from behind, both were crying but neither of them knew how to comfort the other.

Seonghwa patted his back before standing up and called out the guards. No one would dare to say anything to anyone about this matter but his heart. He was staring at the body, blood oozing out from the heart, making a scar on the chest.

“Why you always kiss on the scar above my chest?” You asked him smilingly.

He again kissed you at the same place and nuzzled his face between your breasts, “it reminds me of the day we met. You saved me from the fire and got hurt. I will kiss it every day to let you know that this is not a scar but a seal to our bond, just above it is your heart beating for me.”

“For you, yuyu.” You planted a kiss on the top of his head.

For him.

“Yunho…” he heard a soft voice calling out his name, he didn’t look up but staring at the floor at his hands, he killed her. The blood on his hand felt like yours. The knife fell from his hand.

Did he kill her? Or you?

“Yuyu…” he looked up instantly. That name with that sweetness in the voice. You were standing in front of him. A sweet smile and sparkling eyes staring back at him, “you remembered me.”

“Y/n…you are really here?” He asked you in a shaky voice.

“No…” she approached him and kneeled down and held his shoulder, “but I want to say that I really love you. I still love you. I am here with you all the time. Don’t feel lonely. We are still together and I still love to see you smiling and laughing like before.”

“You are here. You are lying.”

“I’m here but to say the final goodbye. You promised me that if I die you will be the one to kill me and look you killed her because I left you. I should have said you everything but sorry. Let’s meet again in our next life.”

He grabbed the knife and attempted to cut his wrist when you held his hand, “don’t be stupid Yuyu.”

His body was aching for her touch but still her touch felt distant, just a wave of air. A piece of memory.

“No let me kill myself. I will meet you again and we will be with each other forever.”

“Please….Yunho…I am already far away from you now but don’t kill yourself. Stay for me. I couldn’t live enough to know the beauty of life but you will live for me so that you can tell me everything when we will meet again.”

“Y/n…. I can’t.”

“Yunho, please for me…” tears fell from her eyes “I will wait for you.”

Yunho kept his eyes open because he knew if he blinked a little, the worst sight he had to notice. You held your hand over his eyes and felt his wet eyes. You kissed his forehead “Goodbye…”

Yunho opened his eyes and tears flowed down his eyes, “y/n…”

You were nowhere. He was all alone in that grand place. It was all his imagination that he read in your last letter for him.

“Keep this locket with you. Even if I’m not with you then also I will feel you are safe with me. This will hang over the scar. I will shield it.”

He gifted you the locket but last day, you gave it back to him and that’s why maybe you died.

He killed you. You were always his. Your everything was his.

You were his to love. His to care. His to protect.

His to kill.

And he will live for you. In the end he was always yours since the day you saved him from the fire in your childhood.

[a reblog in appreciation and your reviews will be greatly appreciated. Please let me know if you liked it or not.]

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @ssrnghwa @bjojotpghzb @superbbananananana @sharksandminhos

#cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez au #atz smut #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x you #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho fanfic #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho ateez #yunho fluff #ateez yunho x reader #yunho scenarios #yunho angst

[ihave-atummyache]

he’s not my boyfriend

Kim Seungmin Imagine

summary: seungmin isn’t your boyfriend but he could fool everyone in the room into thinking otherwise.

SFW (: a few suggestive comments made but otherwise PG-13

2.2k words

this was actually a dream that i had that i feel like needed to be brought to life. the kim seungmin brainrot is so mf real rn. he’s like all i think abt at the moment. bias wrecker? more like life wrecker rn😔

also i could write a really disgusting nsfw pt 2 to this like just filthy.

i have ideas……

“Okay. I get it. Yes sir. I won’t get that drunk,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest.

“Y/n. I’m serious. Just listen to me for once,” Seungmin’s tone is full of annoyance and you throw your hands in the air before turning away from him and opening the door to the party.

You make a beeline for the kitchen and grab the first bottle of liquor you see, tossing back what could be considered a shot but was probably more equivalent to three. You slam the bottle down and scrunch your face up as the liquid burns your throat.

“Woah there! No hello? Just straight for the liquor?” you hear the voice beside you and turn your head, a small smile making its way to your face.

“I’m proving a point, Lix,” you mutter out and toss back another huge gulp of the liquor before screwing the top back on and placing it back where you found it. You turn around and lean against the kitchen counter. Felix mirrors you and leans on the counter beside you.

“To who?” He questions, taking a sip from his own drink and you turn your head to face him.

“Take a wild guess,” you grumble and cross your arms over your chest again. You scan the room, looking for your Seungmin but with no luck.

“Your boyfriend… right,” he states matter-a-factly before he brings his cup up to his lips again to hide his smirk and you nudge him with your shoulder, making the drink slosh around in his cup.

“Hey! He isn’t my boyfriend!” You object and Felix looks over at you again with a raised eyebrow.

“Right because we spend every free moment we have with our friends. We always go on dates and bring each other to events as friends. I also bicker like an old married couple with my friends. And let’s not forget I always have sex with my fr-”

“Okay! I get it. Shut up,” you roll your eyes as a drunken giggle makes its way to your throat. The alcohol was definitely starting to make its appearance known.

“I just want to strangle him so bad,” You suddenly confess and put your hands out in front of you, mocking how you would strangle him.

“Like as a sex thing or like-”

“No, Felix! Not as a sex thing!” you can’t stop the laugh from bubbling out of your throat. Felix mirrors your laugh and looks over at you again.

“So what is this point you are trying to prove to him?” he suddenly seems curious and you groan, turning around to face the counter and grabbing the liquor bottle again.

“He claims that I don’t handle alcohol well. He says I get all flirty with everyone and suddenly everyone is paying attention to me. To which I said I can prove him wrong! To which he said that if I drink tonight he will not be very happy with me. Fucking asshole,” you murmur the last part but a chuckle still leaves Felix’s chest.

“In his defense-”

“Don’t defend him! You’re on my side!” You object and toss the liquor back, swallowing another gulp and he puts a finger out towards you.

“Woah. Hold on. I’m not on anyone’s side! This doesn’t have anything to do with me!” He tries to defend himself and you roll your eyes at him.

“You suck,” you grumble and wrap your hand around the liquor bottle before wrapping your free hand around his wrist and dragging him with you.

“Let’s go play a game!”

You two head to the living room and when you walk in, you finally land your eyes on your Seungmin. He is leaned back in an armchair with a beer in one hand and his legs are spread, making his lap look deliciously inviting.

As if he can sense you just walked into the room his eyes glance over and immediately lock with yours before he notices the liquor bottle in one hand and Felix in your other hand. You can practically hear him scoff from across the room before his tongue starts poking into his cheek and he looks away to continue his conversation.

“Dick,” you mumble out to yourself before you pull Felix to where people are sitting in a circle with a bottle in the middle. You lean down next to Hyunjin.

“Watcha playin’?” You whisper out and he nearly jumps out of his skin at your voice. He turn’s quickly, his hand gripping his chest.

“Jesus, y/n! Give a little warning before you sneak up on a guy!” He takes a dramatic deep breath and you chuckle in response, “Truth or dare. Come join!” He insists and grabs your hips, pulling you to sit next to him. He turns to Felix and grabs his hand, pulling him to sit on the other side of him. The seating leaves you sandwiched between Hyunjin and some guy that you haven’t met before.

“Let me go first!” You burst out, your voice bubbly and very happy from the effect of the alcohol coursing through your veins. You naturally draw the attention of the room but when you’ve been drinking, it’s like your presence demands everyone’s attention. Which is exactly what Seungmin hates.

He doesn’t like the idea of his girl having the attention of anyone besides him.

“Go ahead, love,” Hyunjin smiles at you and you smile back, leaning forward and spinning the bottle. You bite down on your lip as the bottle spins and when it lands on the stranger next to you, you happily turn to face him, a grin on your face.

“Truth or dare?” You are practically bouncing in your seat in anticipation.

“Do you even know my name?” He chuckles out and you wave your hand, dismissively.

“Unimportant! Focus on the matter at hand,” You put your hands on his shoulders to force him to look at you before continuing, “Truth or dare, mister!” you giggle out and he thinks for a second, silence falling upon the circle.

“Mmm, dare,” he finally decides and a devilish smirk crosses your face. You have a few go-to dares and this is one of your favorites.

“I dare you to flirt with the prettiest girl here. It has to be genuine,” you point a finger at him as the circle erupts into giggles and whooping.

“I would, but the way your boyfriend has been looking at me since you sat next to me has me scared to say another word to you,” He confesses and his eyes dart behind you. Your eyebrows drop into a furrow at the statement.

You turn around to see who he is talking about and are met with the pissed off not so happy face of your Seungmin. He is still in the arm chair but his elbows are resting on his knees, his beer is dangling in his hands between his knees and his lips are tucked into his mouth. You turn back around as soon as you realize how crazy he looks, sending chills up your spine.

“Oh him?” You point a thumb over your shoulder, “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my,” you pause, moving your hands in front of you to look for the word, but nothing comes to you. “Seungmin. He’s just my Seungmin,” you try to conclude and you can hear Felix stifle a laugh on the other side of Hyunjin, making you stick a middle finger up at him, over your shoulder.

“So its okay if I flirt with you?” He question, his brows raising at the question.

“If you think I’m the prettiest girl in the room then yeah. That’s how the game works,” you shrug and a smirk covers his face. He scoots slightly closer to you and reaches up to touch your cheek but before his fingertips can touch you, there’s a strong grip on his wrist.

“That’s enough.” Seungmin’s voice comes from above you and you look up at him. He has a death grip on the poor kid’s wrist and in your drunken state you don’t process exactly how pissed he is.

You wrap your hand around the back of Seungmin’s thigh and pull him slightly closer to you, almost instinctively. He locks eyes with you before he tosses the guy’s hand out of his grip. Seungmin leans down and grabs you by the top of your arm, pulling you to your feet. He pulls you closer to him and leans into your ear his breath fanning down your neck.

Hyunjin immediately starts to speak to the circle, distracting everyone from the scene unfolding. Everyone is just drunk enough for the distraction to work.

“Do you want to go home?” Seungmin’s tone is low, obviously angry and you shake your head immediately.

“Then fucking behave.” His voice comes out through clenched teeth and you gulp, nodding quickly. He releases the grip he has on your arm and rubs a thumb over where he was holding you gently.

“Have a seat and be a good girl,” His voice is a little louder and Hyunjin glances up at the two of you for a moment. Seungmin scratches the top of your head and turns away from you. You quickly turn and sit back in your spot next to Hyunjin. You reach for your liquor bottle but just before you can grab it, Seungmin’s hand wraps around the bottle and he takes it with him.

You look up at him with a pout to complain but he holds s finger up at you, making you snap your mouth shut. He raises his eyebrows and mouths ‘behave’ at you one more time before retreating back to his spot at the arm chair.

You clear your throat and smile at the group, clapping your hands together. You turn to face Hyunjin and Felix and they’re both looking at you with smirks on their face.

“‘Not your boyfriend’ my ass,” Felix mumbles and you squint at him. You cross your arms over your chest, a bit unhappy that you had your drink taken away. You glance over at Seungmin and he is already engaged in a conversation with someone beside him.

He’s sitting back in his manspread again and you bite down on your lip. The liquor bottle that you so desperately want is tucked into the chair beside him and you sigh, turning back to the game.

The game is fun, a bunch of people getting dared to post things or kiss but as it went on, you found yourself getting more and more sober. Which means that these drunk games were beginning to get more and more boring.

“Ugh. I’ll be back. I need that bottle,” you lean over and complain to Hyunjin who just nods at you, much to drunk to probably even realize you are talking. You push yourself to your feet and walk over to your Seungmin. As you approach him, he glances over at you before continuing his conversation.

Once you reach him, as if he has been reading your mind all night, he pats his lap twice. He never breaks eye contact with the person he’s having a conversation with. Not even when you’re obeying his command and settling yourself in his lap.

“Minnieeee,” you whine out and dig next to him, freeing the liquor bottle from its confines. He still doesn’t fully face you, just glancing at you as you take a swig.

“Minnie….” you try again as the liquor warms your belly, making you let out a giggle to yourself. You wrap your arm around his neck when he still doesn’t pay you any attention and begin to twirl his chain with your other hand.

“Minnie!” you whisper shout at him and he looks up at the person he’s having a conversation with.

“Hold that thought,” he holds a finger up to them before turning his attention to you, “What, princess? You want my attention now? All the other attention you were getting wasn’t enough?” his voice is low enough that you know only you can hear it. Your face falls into a pout and you nod your head at him.

“Missed you s’much,” you grumble and unwrap your hand from his chain to push his hair away from his face.

“Mm. I’ve been right here all night, bub,” he wraps his arm around your hips, letting his hand settle on top of your thigh.

“Still,” you can admit that you get a little whiny and needy when you’ve been drinking, especially if you’re with your Seungmin. He just brings something out of you.

“Still nothing. You’ve had plenty of attention. I’ve been in this chair all night. Don’t be greedy for my attention, brat,” he’s joking and you can tell but there is also some seriousness behind his tone. You can’t deny that you have been acting like a brat.

“I wish you were in me all night,” you suddenly confess, big puppy dog eyes on display and Seungmin raises his eyebrows, a smirk forming on his face.

“I thought I told you to behave,” he challenges you and your lip drops out into a pout. His eyes dart down to your mouth, he can’t help finding the scene in front of him adorable.

“You’re lucky you’re cute. Let’s get out of here so I can be in you all night. How does that sound?” he asks you and you immediately lighten up, a grin covering your face as you nod, vigorously.

“Okay. Go say your goodbyes. Make sure they know that my girl is going home with me,” he assures you and you nod, hopping out of his lap and rushing off to tell your friends goodbye.

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