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#we'll see if I want to continue this lol
echo-rambles · 3 months
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use my body against me
summary: when a drunk text to your ex gets answered in a way you never expected, it leads to falling right back into old habits. tags: past established relationship, ex-boyfriend chan, suggestive content but nothing explicit, mention of recreational alcohol use, swearing. notes: title from the way you miss me by all time low. mostly a rewrite of my very first reader insert fic, because I loved the concept but I wasn't a fan of my own writing, and I think I've vastly improved since. I might write a continuation, but no promises.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
The situation you currently find yourself in is truly one of your own making. There’s really no one else to blame, no matter how much you would love to point the finger at literally anyone besides yourself. 
There’s a text message from Bang Christopher Chan sitting there, on your phone. Staring up at you almost accusatory and chilling you to the bone. 
-Good morning, I hope you’re drinking water to combat all of that vodka you consumed last night! hahaha 
At first, the text means nothing to you. It leaves you in a state of mild confusion only exacerbated by your incredible hangover. How would he know you drank your weight in liquor? The only answer you can even try to think up isn’t a good one. Feeling brave and a little nauseous, you decide to scroll up, farther into this conversation between you and your ex.
The confusion melts away into horror as you locate the beginning of this conversation. One glance at the selfie you sent has the memory coming back to you, causing your headache to flare. Oh no.
It was late last night, and you had already drank one too many shots of whatever fruity flavored vodka was available. Shut away in Felix’s bathroom, the light overhead far too harsh and fluorescent, pulling your shirt down enough to show off your cleavage. Snapping a picture in the mirror above the sink, leaning into the counter and trying your best to look some approximation of sexy. 
Fumbling fingers sent it to Chan. The first text between the two of you in months. 
Looking at the selfie now has your stomach twisting into knots. Oh no. The texts that followed aren’t any better. Actually, they somehow make the entire situation worse. 
-the fact that i wore this shirt hoping you’d be at this party only to learn you went home EARLY?
-i wasted such an amazing outfit and for nothing
-i bet you looked good too. bastard
-sometimes i can’t tell if i miss you or just the weight of you on top of me 
-i miss how good you were -i know fora fact i miss your mouth -i miss your mouth on MY MOUTH -omg i miss my mouth on your
You swipe away from those messages. Knowing for a fact you’ll have to read them eventually, to get a proper understanding of the things you said to him. But not right now. Right now you continue to scroll, your texts devolving into a mix of incomprehensible emojis and bitching at Chan about things he very obviously can’t control. You were a mess, holy shit. Who even let you text? Why wasn’t your phone confiscated the moment vodka hit your lips?
The only things that Chan has replied with since your terrible wall of drunk texts is an initial Oh wow lol, and his aforementioned good morning text.
It could be worse, right? He could’ve blocked you or typed out an excruciatingly long lecture about drinking responsibly. It honestly could’ve been so much worse. 
Crawling your way out of bed, still vaguely nauseous and trying to fight the urge to lay face down on the floor and never get up again, you shuffle your way into the bathroom. First thing’s first before you tackle whatever the fuck is on your phone, you decide to wash up to feel human again.
The world can fall apart around you for all you care. All you want is a shower and some toothpaste. 
Wrapped in a towel and your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you finally decide to reply. You probably shouldn’t, especially now that you’re sober and know better, but you have to apologize. That feels like the polite thing to do. 
Well, the only way to begin is by beginning. 
-lol hey good afternoon 
-I ended up demolishing an entire water bottle when I got home last night but sadly it wasn’t enough to save me
How do you even apologize for last night? Sorry I was so angry and horny and I made it your problem? Sorry that the first time I've texted you since we broke up was a drunk thirst trap? So sorry, and hey by the way how have you been since we had the messiest breakup because you’re bad at prioritizing and I’m bad at communication? 
Yeah, definitely none of that. 
You’re still standing there in your bathroom, staring into the mirror and brushing your teeth on autopilot as your mind spins into itself, when your phone lights up. One notification followed swiftly by a second, making your phone buzz on the counter. 
Chan’s contact stares back at you, both messages fading off into ellipses. 
-Ah, RIP. You should’ve drank three…
-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could…
Oh, you don’t think this is the sort of message you can read by yourself while still combating the aching nausea of a hangover. Absolutely not, whatever he has to say can be answered once you have a sufficient amount of caffeine and the right company. 
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
“I need a second opinion.” It’s the first thing you say, after sitting down across from Felix and shoving your phone at him. Showing off the string of text messages you experienced after waking up. You still haven’t read the newest text. 
Felix barely even moves his head from where it’s resting against the table. He’s clearly just as hungover as you are, but you feel like you’re in the middle of making a very bad decision and you need a second opinion. You shimmy your phone under the seam where his forehead meets the wood. 
With a little pout and deep groan, he’s shifting around and unlocking your phone. The silence stretches on as he swipes through the text thread and stares, blinks, and blinks some more. With a start, he’s sitting up straight, pulling the phone closer. 
“Wait, he wants to meet up with you?”
“He wants to what?” You snatch the phone from his hands, finally reading the text yourself. 
-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could maybe grab lunch? Or, if you’re still too hungover for lunch, maybe something later?
Just the idea of seeing him again has something hot and electric buzzing through your veins. Your immediate instinct is to say yes. You want to say yes so badly, yes a thousand times over. Instead you very deliberately place your phone onto the table. 
Felix has slumped back into his seat, eyeing you warily. “I thought you weren’t talking to him?”
“I mean- I wasn’t. But now I am, kind of? It’s not that big of a deal-” 
“It felt like you two went through a divorce, I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘not a big deal’-”
“I’m over it!” You proclaim, a little loudly. A little desperately. “And he is too if he’s talking to me.” 
All you get in response is Felix’s eyebrows pitching inwards and his mouth molding into a little frown. The type of frown that is trying very hard to not be a frown. He’s giving you the most pitying look you’ve probably ever seen on his angelic face. 
You should say no. Scoop up your phone and tell him that you can’t make it. Conjure up some far flung excuse so that you won’t reopen old wounds. But you want to see him again, desperately. 
You tap your fingers along the edge of the table. “Is this a bad idea?” 
“Do you want my truthful answer?” Felix replies from the depths of his hoodie. Your phone sits between you, dark screen facing the ceiling. 
You think for a moment. “Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, fuck you.” 
The thing is, you know he has a point. It doesn’t feel very good but it’s true. Sure, you and Chan can be amicable over text, but that’s over text. Who knows what will happen if you’re face to face. Would it be awkward and stilted? Or maybe everything you say to each other will be filled with vitriolic anger. Things didn’t exactly end on the best terms, and that might just leak into an otherwise pleasant meeting. 
But you are nothing if not a professional at both denial and deflections, so you push all of those thoughts very far away. 
Maybe this could be a new start. Maybe you and Chan could be the incredibly rare type of people who are friends with their ex. You’d like that, actually, to have Chan back in your life beyond some tertiary character you hear about from other people. Texting him reminded you how much you actually miss your best friend. 
Snatching your phone up, you just barely restrain yourself from checking to see if you somehow managed to miss any new messages. 
“It’s a friend thing! Friend’s hang out all the time. We're going to go get coffee or something equally platonic and we're going to ignore all of the drunk texts I sent him!” Your voice raises in pitch towards the end, and it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything else.
Felix gives you a very unimpressed look. “You told him that you miss the feel of his-”
“I know what I said!"
"In your mouth-"
"Thank you!”
Those texts are burned into your brain, you're well aware of the things you sent Chan. How they got more detailed the more you sent. Just remembering some of them has you flushing.
“I mean," Felix hums, oblivious to the direction your thoughts are taking. "I guess it could be a thing friends do.” There's too much sarcasm in his words for your liking.
“As if you haven’t said something similar to any of your friends.”
One of his eyebrows arch, and the gesture is so very pointed. “Any friend that I’ve gotten on my knees for was never at any point an extremely complicated ex.”
"Shut the fuck up." He's right and you hate it.
But still. You want to see Chan so badly. Finally you give in to the all consuming urge to reply. Opening up Chan’s contact, your fingers work quickly. 
-I mean, if you’re paying…
-Of course I’ll pay haha 
-then count me in!
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cave so quickly.” Felix sighs, but there’s something all tangled into his words. Some emotion you can’t really identify right now. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounds hopeful. 
“Seriously, shut up.” 
“You came here asking for my opinion!” 
“Well!” You huff, trying not to glance at the little typing bubble that appears under your fingers. Signaling that Chan is in the middle of replying to you. He wants to continue your stupid little conversation. Your heart does a funny little wiggle at the sight. “I’ll take what you said into consideration, I guess.”
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Felix was probably right, and that was such a complicated thought to have while Chan’s hand was currently palming you through your shirt. 
See, it really had started out with grabbing coffee together. Something extremely casual with no pressure, the conversation just a little awkward at the start. Both of you trying to remember how to be civil towards each other, how to smile and laugh at jokes. It came a lot easier to Chan, as always. But you missed this. You missed being in the same space as him and hearing his voice and fucking hell, Felix was right; you’re so incredibly weak. 
You tried so hard to keep things on track, really you did. The possibility of being friends was right there, laid out in front of you. But then Chan smiled- that small little smile where he ducks his head and bites at his lip and looks up at you from under those fucking eyelashes of his, and oh. You were gone.
He makes it almost disgustingly easy to be around him. It makes your head buzz. 
Somehow the touch of your fingers against the inside of his wrist lead you to his apartment. Where he pins you to the wall and kisses you so deeply you can feel it in your toes. You almost forgot what it felt like when Chan put his full strength into holding you in place. It’s heady. 
He still tastes the same. Somehow, in the midst of his hands gripping and tugging you closer, pressing your hips flush together, that’s the thought that floats its way to the forefront. Chan tastes the same, even after all this time where you never got to taste him. He feels the same too, a little wider, mostly in his shoulders, but still familiar. He makes the same little noise in the back of his throat when you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 
It’s all so familiar and you could choke on it. 
You should probably talk about this. The making out, yes, absolutely, but also the last few months and the texts and him asking to see you out of the blue. It should be talked about, right? Except what would you even say? You’ll just rehash the same things you’ve been saying. You felt ignored and he felt suffocated and you could never find a way to meet in the middle because you’re both stubborn. 
You should say something though, right? Right? 
The press of his hand against the dip of your waist, pulling you closer, has you losing any semblance of what language even is. Words? Who needs them? He’s hooking his other hand behind your knee and hiking it up, guiding you to wrap your leg around him, and really all you can think about is how you aren’t close enough.
You sneak your fingers up under the hem of his shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin, and the sound of the breathiest gasp leaving his lips settles along the curve of your spine. 
This doesn’t feel like a particularly good idea, but then he’s grinding against you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and it doesn’t really matter all that much. 
“Is this a terrible idea?” He asks, practically breathing the words directly into your mouth, and you find it a little funny. Not only are you both having the same sort of thought, but it feels incredibly belated. 
“Honestly Chris? I don’t really give a fuck.” 
That gets him to laugh. Just the quietest little giggle into the skin of your jaw. His hand moves, until he’s grabbing at your ass and angling your hips higher, and it’s really such an inspired thing. The feeling of him, hard through his denim, pressing into you has a moan tripping out of you. 
You definitely need to talk about this. 
Chan keeps touching you, kissing you, undressing you. Little by little, constantly asking 'is this ok? Yeah? We can stop whenever you want-' because he's still a gentleman. You haven't been this close to him in months, but he's still so fucking considerate. It'd be more maddening if it wasn't so familiar. If anything it’s reassuring, filling you with a stupid amount of confidence. You know how to deal with this. 
You repeat yes over and over, hands at his shoulders and licking the word into his mouth, no matter how much he asks. 
He peels your shirt away, careful with the fabric, mouth already trailing down your neck, your chest, landing on the swell of your cleavage. Hands so wide, palms easily fitting to your bare waist.
"Just tell me to stop, and I will-"
Finally you snap. Like a live wire pulled too taut, reaching out to grab at his face. Pressing your fingers into the hollows of his cheeks, his chin resting in the curve of your palm. "Christopher, I'm so horny I feel like I might cry. So while I really appreciate what you're trying to do- if you don't rail me stupid in the next five minutes, I can't be held accountable for my actions."
"Oh, sorry." He blinks at you, a little slowly as he leans more of his weight into your hand. Your fingers dig into the meat of his face and you can feel something tense in his jaw.
"Don't apologize baby, just get on with it." This feels familiar too. Like slipping into a pair of beloved jeans. The fit so perfect.
His eyes light up in the next instant, sparkling and bright, and holy shit you're in for it now. "Say less, boss."
You don't know if you still love him, but you do know that you'll always love the feeling of his mouth on you. His hands. Leaving wet trails as he kisses your skin messily, sloppy. Clever fingers following in the wake of his tongue.
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adrift-in-thyme · 7 months
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Whumptober Day 10: Stranded
Thanks to @uncleskyrule for the idea for this fic!
Also check out @jewlist ‘s amazing art inspired by this fic
Read on Ao3
- Time & the Chain
- Summary: While pursing the Shadow Time becomes stranded in the Lost Woods
CW for mild body horror, blood and injury, and broken bones
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Time tightens his hold on his sword and shield. His heartbeat thunders in his ears, mixing with the clank of armor and weapons and the pound of six pairs of feet. Just ahead of him a shadowy figure runs, cap swishing with the rapid movement. Time grits his teeth and pushes himself to go faster.
He likely should have brought Epona. But she is back at the inn with Twilight and Wild and Hyrule where he had left her in case they needed to make a quick escape. There hadn’t exactly been time to grab her, at any rate. And riding a galloping horse through a town is never an easy task. Still, an extra speed boost would give him a much-needed advantage.
He can’t rid himself of the creeping sensation that the Shadow is slipping through their fingers even as they chase him. 
“Where the hell is he going?” Warriors grits out from beside him. He glances wildly about, no doubt looking for a side street he can take to cut the monster off. But this town is unknown to them and the search does him little good.
“I don’t know,” Four says. “And honestly I’m not certain he does either.”
“I’m wondering why he doesn’t just portal away,” Wind pipes up. “That’s what he’s always done before.”
“Don’t give him any ideas, sailor!” Legend snaps.
Time can practically hear Wind’s frown. “If he’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it. Doesn’t matter what I say.”
“We have to catch him, at any rate,” Sky interjects. “If he gets away now there’s no telling what he’ll do.” 
The fear underlying those words goes unspoken. But Time’s expression grows grim anyway. If the Shadow manages to circle back to the inn, if he goes after Twilight again…
He swallows. Sheathing his sword, he reaches for the familiar object hanging at his hip. 
“Prepare yourselves,” he calls to his companions. 
“For what?!” Legend snaps, worry potent in his voice.
“For attack.”
Eyes firmly on the Shadow, Time lifts the instrument to his lips. The tune is at his fingertips instantly, weaving its way through the air with a calm that belies his breathless desperation. Gently, he guides the song past the heroes, funneling it towards its target.
The notes die away. A second passes. Time itself slows around him.
“What the…” Legend says, but Time pays him no mind. He has no time for questions and explanations, they have no time. The Shadow’s steps are growing more sluggish. But it won’t be long before the monster realizes what’s happening and fights back.
“Go!” He orders. “Strike now!”
Warriors catches his gaze and holds it. There is something fond in his expression and almost proud, mixed with the steadfast determination.
“Box him in,” he says, motioning the others into motion. “And Sky…you know what to do.”
The Skyloftian nods. Out of the corner of his eye Time sees him raise the Master Sword. The blade begins to glow. 
The rest of the heroes rush forward, weapons at the ready. It takes them a moment, but soon they have gained on the Shadow. Legend activates his Pegasus boots and speeds ahead, cutting off the Shadow’s escape. Wind lifts his baton and the air itself curves and gathers beside the veteran. Another wave and a massive gust blows the monster back. The Shadow stumbles, just catching himself as he comes to a skidding halt.
“Now!” Warriors shouts and Sky brings his sword down in a sweeping arc. 
A beam flies free. Time leaps sideways as it zips forward, racing toward the Shadow. The monster turns, eyes widening in realization and then fear. But just as quickly as it has come, the emotion is gone. 
There’s a surge of dark magic and Time’s spell shatters. Time reorients nauseatingly, speeds up.
The Shadow grins.
“Nice try,” he hisses.
And in the next instant the ground disappears from beneath Time’s feet. 
He cries out as he plummets, grasping vainly in the sudden blackness for a hold. Someone screams his name and a hand stretches out to him. Vainly, he tries to reach for it. But then something dark and smothering drags him further downward. A shout goes up and the hand retracts. 
Seconds later his back connects with hard ground. 
Time grits his teeth, wincing as his joints protest the abrupt landing. Spots dance before his eye as it struggles to adjust. But the light here is dim and clouded and it only takes his vision a moment to clear. He barely restrains a gasp as his surroundings come into view.
Fog floats thick and lazy, obscuring everything with its gentle touch. Fairies sparkle within it like tiny stars. Already they have begun to drift toward him, murmuring interestedly. Green grass tickles his fingertips. Walls rise on each side of the clearing he sits within, huge logs set within them. Their openings are pitch black, gaping maws leading to Hylia only knows where.
Slowly, Time rises. His hands clench and unclench at his sides as he takes everything in. A strange numbness has settled in his chest, blanketing him like the fog that he stands in the midst of. He has imagined himself reentering this forest so many times since he left it. Never had he thought it would go like this, though. He isn’t certain what to feel. Or if he wants to feel anything at all.
It has been so long…so very long since he has been home.
Laughter erupts from behind him and he startles. In one swift motion he whirls around and unsheathes his sword. The Shadow leers down at him from his perch atop one of the logs. 
“You remember this place, don’t you, little fairy boy?” he purrs. “I wonder…does it remember you?”
Time steels himself. The battle of emotion and lack of is gone now, safely stowed away for later. 
“Whatever you’re playing at, Shadow, it ends now.” 
The Shadow’s expression turns murderous.
“You want me, Hero of Time? Come and get me.”
He leaps down in a blur of bent light and darkening shadows and ducks into the mouth of the nearest log. His laughter echoes behind him.  
Time doesn’t allow himself a moment to think, a moment to question. He breaks into a run, plunging through the opening after the Shadow. Darkness blankets him, then just as quickly turns to greenish light. He looks up just in time to catch a glimpse of the tip of the Shadow’s cap disappearing to his left. Gritting his teeth, he charges in that direction.
Another block of darkness, curving and transforming the very path beneath his feet. Another clearing that looks the same as all the others. Another fleeting glimpse of the Shadow’s hat or hair or tunic flying out behind him as he skips away. Always too fast, always out of reach.
Time runs without pause. A fearful sort of urgency has situated itself firmly in his gut, pushing him onward. He can’t stop now, not with Twilight still recovering a world away. His descendant had fallen before his eyes and he could do nothing except watch. Watch him crumple on the battlefield. Watch him fight for his life.
Now, however, in this moment he can do something. He can slay this monster that seeks their lives. He can protect those he loves. And isn’t that the entire point of any of this? To ensure those he cares for are safe?
So, he keeps going. Even as his sense of direction goes from vague to nonexistent. Even as that urgency becomes a kind of contained panic. Even as he begins to feel a change in the forest around him, benevolence turning to something more malignant. 
And then, all at once, he can’t go any more. 
Something curls around his foot mid-step, thick and constrictive and unyielding. He stumbles and pain shoots up his ankle. With a muffled grunt he hits the ground. 
Stubbornly, he drags himself up again, peering down at his foot to see what tripped him. It is a vine like the ones he climbed as a boy. It sticks out from the soil like a large snake to coil about his ankle. 
As he watches another erupts beside it. It latches on to his opposite foot and begins to climb higher, tightening as it goes. Fear spikes within him. Grasping his sword from where it has fallen, Time slices viciously at them. They retract and he scrambles to his feet, wincing as his ankle protests. 
He manages two steps.
The vines spring up again, this time wrapping around his wrists like manacles. More come from behind him, encircling his legs. Even as he struggles they drag him down to kneel upon the ground. 
Time struggles, desperately reaching for the sword that lies just out of reach. But the vines are strong and only growing more so by the moment. They circle ever higher, wrapping around his arms and legs and torso, stretching toward his face and neck.
With them comes pain. It burns at his fingertips and spreads from there, following the trail of vines.
He gasps, trying to tear at them with his bare hands now. One sword sits useless on his back, the other mere feet away. If he can just reach one of them…
But his efforts are in vain. The unnatural bonds are tough and plentiful. And more appear by the moment to encase his body like the wrappings of a gibdo. They constrict and his armor creaks threateningly. 
“Well, well, what have we here?”
There is a flickering of darkness and then the Shadow stands before him. He regards Time with a sinister grin. 
“Quite a pretty predicament you’ve gotten yourself into. Seems the forest has forgotten you.”
He reaches out a slim finger, tipping Time’s chin up to look him in the face. A vine takes the opportunity to twine upward, snaking around Time’s neck. He chokes on the air he can no longer drag in.
“I thought you would know that this would happen, but…oh of course not. You always thought you belonged to the forest. That it was your home. Am I wrong?”
Time’s only reply is a pained hiss as the vines tighten further. His armor begins to crumple inward, piercing his skin. Stars dance before his vision.
“Of course I’m not,” the Shadow answers for him. “You, on the other hand, you certainly were. You never belonged here any more than the sorry Hylian souls that haunt these woods.”
There is another streak of pain and suddenly the vines around his left arm are gone. The Shadow grips his forearm, forcing the limb upward. 
“Look, hero,” he hisses. “Behold your terrible fate.”
Time blinks and the haze clears just long enough for him to see his own hand, hovering before him. The sight is nearly enough to make him gag. Where there was once healthy, pink skin there is now only pearly white bone. 
No.
The air has left his lungs now and it has nothing to do with the vines that seek his demise. Terror settles deep within him, cold and real and terrible.
The Shadow cackles. He releases Time’s arm to hang by his side once more. Instantly, the vines spring upward to encase it again. But Time hardly notices. 
He’s standing at the spot where Anju’s brother once sat, a potion in hand, something icy and horrible clutching his heart. He is hearing Fado’s giggling chant.
“Everybody will become a stalfos. Everybody, a stalfos. ...will you become a stalfos too?”
“Well, I had best be going,” the Shadow is saying now, his voice filtering through the dreadful ringing in Time’s ears. “I would love to stay and watch your body slowly disintegrate and your sanity along with it…but as it happens I have somewhere to be.”
A slow grin stretches across his face and Time’s heart stutters.
No. 
Frantically he begins to struggle again, even as the vines constrict further, sending white hot agony through his body. The telltale burn of disappearing flesh travels up his right arm. The knowledge of what is happening makes him ill.
But he hardly has time to dwell on it. The Shadow is waving a hand now, dark magic floating at his fingertips. A portal appears beside him. Time stares at it with longing and trepidation. If he could just get free he could reach it. He could be there when the monster arrived to protect Twilight and all the others. 
His heartbeat is erratic now. What little air he can drag in is inhaled sharp and fast. 
He has to break free, he has to. He won’t allow Twilight to die…
He manages to wrench one hand free and reaches out, tearing at soil and grass as he tries to grasp his sword. But quick as a flash his bonds grab his wrist, wrenching it back to his side so sharply that he feels his bones break. A scream rises in his throat and he bites his tongue to keep from letting it free.
“Go ahead,” the Shadow sneers. His crimson eyes glow, sharp teeth glint. “Scream. No one will hear you. Struggle. It will do you no good. The forest takes what it wants. I thought you would know that by now.”
He turns away toward the portal that awaits him. The panic in Time reaches a fever pitch.
“Don’t—” He grits out. “Don’t you dare touch him. Don’t dare touch any of them.”
The Shadow pauses mid-step. Turning on his heel he stalks back toward Time. He leans forward until he is mere inches from Time’s face, murderous intent evident in his gaze.
“And if I do touch them,” he hisses. “If I say use this sword” — In one swift motion he scoops Time’s sword off of the ground, holding it up so that the blade gleams — “to slit their necks what will you do? Will you don the Deity mask that sits in the pouch at your hip? Will you follow me across time? Hunt me down?”
He is trembling now, Time realizes dimly, though from pain or emotion he isn’t certain. Both, more than likely. 
“I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe,” he growls. 
But the Shadow only smirks. “Oh, I know. And I welcome you to try. Though, I believe it is rather difficult to do much of anything once the forest has claimed you.”
He leans even closer, fingertips brushing harshly against the side of Time’s face. It has begun to burn there too, a distant sort of pain that now fans itself into agony. Time flinches away, dragging in air between clenched teeth. 
The Shadow grips his chin, forcing him to remain still. For a moment more, he regards him, as though reveling in the sight of bone showing from beneath skin. 
“I wonder what he would think, your pup,” he says, slowly, every word measured with torturous precision, “if he saw you right now.”
The red hot anger churning inside of him erupts and Time tries to lunge forward. But the vines tighten sharply and drag him back and he chokes, vision bleeding white.
When his vision clears the Shadow has turned away. Time watches as he walks toward the portal. And with every step, desperation wedges itself more firmly in his throat. 
The monster pauses just before he enters the portal, head turned slightly so Time can make out the side of his face. 
“I suppose there is an upside to all of this.” His lips quirk upward in a wicked grin. “At least, now, at the very end, you truly belong to the forest.”
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binghe-malewife-goals · 10 months
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Me, an intellectual, scoffing at the theories for arcane s2 bc no one seems to understand the characters
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trashlie · 1 year
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ILY FP 210, 211, 212
WOOOOOOOF I’ve been holding off on writing this post, because I wanted to wait for this whole “episode” to fully come out. Quimchee revealed they were all meant to happen in one episode, but SO MUCH was happening in the episode that it was too long to do as the one. I... kind of wish I hadn’t waited because now there is SO MUCH for me to cover, so I’m going to do my best to keep this organized and coherent.
No lie, these go up there in my top episodes, especially 212. I have a feeling I might have some different feelings than others on this one...? We’ll see, I’m keen to hear how all of you are thinking and feeling about it. To me, these episodes really encapsulate a good 80% of the plot that we’ve been dealing with, and there’s some good reveals in here that have been a LONG time coming. I think everything is set up now for the time skip to come, and especially after all the events that transpired this arc (remember how this all started out so many moons ago with Nol going to the company Christmas party? That feels like it was years ago to what is happening now!) I am BEYOND excited to see what the time skips have in store for us! 
Anyway, before I start spoiling things, let’s get into it!
Well and truly, I love this arc! It’s really capture so much of the story this bigger story has centered on - the relationship between Nol and Kousuke. This isn’t the root of the story, of course, but it’s a significant portion of what we’ve come to read for, I think, and I cannot tell you how much I love seeing the characters verbally acknowledge things they’ve swept under a rug. 
212 felt especially raw to me - Kousuke’s confessions are tragic in the way of too little too late, and the realization that Nol was never against him, that he was always on the same side, that they could have been an incredible team may come to haunt him. That acknowledgement of his that nobody really liked him - no one else but the one person he had demeaned and devalued until he was truly nobody - really hit me like a sucker punch. I truly thought these were truths Kousuke wouldn’t be able to reach until he lost more, like his job or his sense of self, but I guess we can argue that he’s lost a lot of his sense of self; from the moment he punched Nol, it’s clear that he’s dissociating. That also serves to tell us how important this moment is for Kousuke, what it means to him, what Nol means to him.
Now, I’ll be upright honest with you guys, because I think this is where the difference of opinions will come in. I really enjoy stories with this kind of element of hatred and care so intricately interlaced in family or friends. There’s something about this sense of care being overwritten by jealousy so scathing it mutates into resentment and hatred and loathing. The way these two feelings battle out, the way ugly emotions are so strong they come to eclipse any hope for warmth. Idk it’s intriguing to me, it creates a compelling story. 
And in Kousuke’s case, it is! A running theory has been that Kousuke treats Shinae the way he does because he is, subconsciously, treating her how he wishes he’d treated Nol. As the story went on and Kousuke’s ugliness started to come out more and more and his paranoia began to consume him, I think it was probably difficult for many to find credence in this theory - that there was no way Kousuke could have cared about Nol and transferred it to Shinae when he treated Nol how he did but I’m still here for the theory. It’s just that Kousuke’s ugliness was so strong, overwhelming, it eclipsed anything else. 
Now I’m not saying I think Kousuke loves Nol or thinks of him as a brother, but rather I think deep down, he understood they were connected. As a child, Nol was the only person who didn’t treat Kousuke like an object - like a puppet or rich vending machine or influence to be gained. But how could Kousuke allow himself to think so favorably of Nol when he was so deeply rooted in jealousy? 
This is what I find especially intriguing about their dynamic. Something I talk about a lot is that Nol and Kousuke are both the products of abuse - Kousuke is the way he is due to neglect and manipulation, and in turn he took that out on Nol. I’ve seen people say Kousuke doesn’t make sense to them, but he DOES and this episode really drove that home and confirmed a lot of things I’d felt. 
Kousuke’s treatment of Nol all stems from Rand and his affair. Let’s look at it from Kousuke’s perspective. He has a father who is never around, and when he is he’s busy and always puts his career first. He rarely joins them for family time, there’s a rift between him and his wife. All young Kousuke wants is for his father to spend time with him, to be around, to notice him. His mother tells him things - if he’s a good boy Father will pay attention; if he wants his father’s attention he needs to be just like him; if he wants Father to care to notice he must be exactly like him. But his mother also says other thing - that there’s someone else, money is being wired to someone. At school people murmur similar things. 
All he wants is his father’s approval, his father’s pride, his father’s attention, his father’s time. He must not be good enough, yet. He must not matter, yet. He’ll make sure he does, though. He’ll do exactly what his mother says, he’ll buckle down just like she tells him, he’ll make sure to become the perfect son that his father can be proud of. 
So you can understand, then, why the discovery that the murmurs are true, that there’s another family, would shatter him the way it did, why it remains a point of breaking for him even as an adult, why he never really reconciles his father’s affair. How is it that the man who has no time for him or their family, had enough time to create a second family? Why was he so undeserving of his time? Why was he so undeserving of his attention? 
And it rooted deep inside him, right in the core of his foundation. This other boy who describes his father as someone who couldn’t possibly be the same man as his father - a funny man, a kind man. That is not the father Kousuke knows, so why does this other child know him? (Never mind that this child has also never met that version of his father.) It all stems from that: a craving for something he’s never received. 
Kousuke’s whole speech about how there was only one kind, sweet, generous, funny person in his life was the very person he attacked and tore down hit me HARD. His admission of fear, that he ACTUALLY ADMITTED TO BEING SCARED, that he’ll never be good enough for Rand, that nothing he would ever do would make him worthy of his attention actually hurt. This is the kind of thing I’ve been wanting Kousuke to acknowledge and embrace, because it’s the one thing that has been fueling and propelling him. He doesn’t do this job because he’s passionate about it - he does it because he’s still vying for love and attention. He didn’t forsake his childhood because he was above it - he literally sacrificed it for his father. Regardless of what you think about Kousuke now, it has to be acknowledged that he, too, has suffered. And let’s not pretend that Yui truly believed that Kousuke could win Rand’s affection this way - it still feels like it was a game for her, a manipulation to turn him into someone she could use to get her way, a puppet if you will. It’s fucking sad to think that he gave up everything because he was so determined to earn his father’s love, that his love and attention was believed to be so conditional he had to make himself worthy of it. 
“I hate you for making me aware this person exists. And I hate your face being a constant reminder of it.” 
So many times, Kousuke has berated Nol for his playful, joking behavior, for seeming so lax and carefree. I’d always thought it was jealousy that he didn’t have that kind of life, that he wasn’t allowed it - and that probably is still a part of it - but now we know that when Yeonggi laughed and played around, he was a vision of a version of Rand Kousuke had never known, a spitting image of a man Kousuke didn’t even know could exist. 
And as Nol points out, it was all for naught. All of Kousuke’s jealousy and his fear, tearing down Nol so that he could instead get to know that version of Rand. All of it was for naught, because who knows if that man even exists? It seems like only one person ever knew her, and who’s to know if she didn’t make him up. Kousuke has spent his entire life - sacrificed his childhood, accelerated himself through school, forsook any fun or leisure - on a quest for a man who probably doesn’t exist, for something he’ll never achieve. He spent his whole life tearing down someone innocent trying to get to something he’ll never have. 
I really thought it would take for Kousuke to lose it all, to stumble in his career before he’d realize it, but here he is. 
But on the other side of that, we have Nol. Nol, who also lost - and lost more than Kousuke did. Nol who was isolated and alienated, Nol who tried time and time again to reach out and create a connection, and was refused every time. Nol who suffered under Kousuke and Yui’s watch over and over. Nol, who despite it all, still tried to treat Kousuke well, still tried to give him a chance, still tried to reach out to him at his most desperate. 
I think that really illustrates something important: an understanding that there is a reason for Kousuke’s behavior and his paranoia, where it comes from, but that reason doesn’t justify. I can acknowledge both that Kousuke absolutely is the product of his environment and that he has been an asshole about it lol. Idk I can admit that my intrigue in his has grown a LOT. 
These episodes have just tapped into something so deep that I love about this series - that our experiences heavily color our interpersonal relationships, as well as our relationships with our own selves. Nol notes that he, too, suffered, he, too, lost, he has been alone and alienated and despite it all he still tried, and he still attempted to be a good person, in contrast to Kousuke who let his suffering turn him into an asshole. It was kind of a hard-to-read moment, because Nol spoke the truth, and as much as I feel for Kousuke, Nol is right. Because he never attempted to deal with those ugly feelings, because he never chose to face them, because he instead wore them as armor, it became his identity, he became an asshole through those experiences. Had there ever been a moment that he could have met Nol in the middle, that he could have put aside his jealousy, that he could have turned off his Rand blinders, he could have seen what Nol was able to see earlier and more clearly. And isn’t that sad? They could have been a great team, they could have had each others’ back in a world where no one else did, they could have been there for each other, but Kousuke couldn’t cross that line. 
Again, I fully acknowledge that Kousuke is the way he is because of those experiences. I acknowledge that this is the wake up call he needed, that he was forced to finally reckon with the truth. 
But I also worry what will come of Kousuke as a result of Rand’s arrival. Is he going to backpedal? Is this going to short-circuit something and push him to double down, or is it going to free him? 
Kousuke has spent his entire life trying to earn Rand’s favor, to earn his attention. Everything he has done has been an angle to get closer to his father. Like, when you break it all down, that’s the sad, basic truth. He was a child who so desperately wanted his father’s attention that his life became about that. And here comes Rand, showing up when it looks like Kousuke is running away. Rand who never had time for him, Rand who didn’t shower him with warmth and affection. 
Rand who showed up and wailed “My son” in response to Nol. 
That whole scene honestly hurts me. Nol is hurt, Rand is anguished and horrified, and Kousuke? Kousuke finally witnessing his father show a fatherly side - and it wasn’t for him. And not only that but Rand might not even believe that Kousuke was trying to get help, that he attempted to get Nol up but couldn’t. And does it even matter when the truth is that Kousuke DID cause this? I can’t imagine it was his intention - I don’t think his mind went “punch Nol and he’ll fall over the railing” as much as Nol tried to leave and Kousuke reacted on that. But the point still stands: even if it wasn’t his intention, this is still ultimately his fault. Nol goaded him on and played a part, but Kousuke was the hand that acted. 
I fear that this will ruin what little relationship Kousuke has with Rand - and it’s a fear because it means Kousuke could swing in two wholly opposite directions. Does he double-down and return to the side of his mother, the only family member who has made him feel like someone’s child? I don’t think he’s at the point where he can extricate himself from the family, as good as it would be. And I worry that if that’s the case, will he double back down on his treatment and resentment of Nol? For this one moment, he saw that they were equals, that they both had a broken, shitty relationship with Rand. And then Rand showed up, showing that paternal side Kousuke has longed for. 
As much as I WANT Kousuke to hold on to that moment, I don’t know that he can. I think the cracks have formed and I think his fragile reality is crumbling faster, but I fear he’ll retreat back into the “comfort” of the world he knows. 
Here’s the thing about Kousuke: on some level he knows. He knows that Yui isn’t great, he knows that she has done awful things, he knows that Nol did no wrong, he knows that Rand will probably never change. But these are such uncomfortable truths and he has spent his life propped up by a false reality. This was pointed out by AugmentedElle on reddit, but look at the difference in Kousuke’s flashbacks. Look at the memory in 210 vs 212. The flashback in 210 is the strongest, most vibrant memory we’ve yet seen. Ordinarily they’re in some kind of grey scale, or at least muted colors, sometimes with spot color like in Shinae’s. In Nol and Kousuke’s flashbacks thus far, we’ve seen those muted colors or alterations - Nessa’s face appearing scribbled out in Kousuke’s memories, just as in 212. The use of color suggests that the memory in 210 is, quite possibly, fabricated. It starts out with Kousuke dazed, unable to remember what just happened, and Yui comes in and tells him he won’t have to see that boy for a long time. It feels like something happened - that perhaps Kousuke did something (the huffing that parallels his huffing after he punches Nol in the current story) and blocked it out or whited out and Yui came in and gave him an iteration of the story. It’s the strongest memory because it didn’t come from him - because it was filled in and colored in by someone else. The whole time we’ve thought Nol had perhaps been pushed to the bring, that Kousuke instigated a fight and Nol snapped, but maybe it was never Nol. Maybe the whole time Kousuke has associated Nol with danger and violence - because he was wired to think that way. That whatever happened and lead to that moment was so traumatic he doesn’t have the real memory, and instead carries a fabrication. 
And that is essentially the basis of Kousuke’s entire life. Regardless of intent, Yui does manipulate Kousuke. She says things knowing full-well the effect they’ll have. Consider that moment with Nol and Nessa vs Yui in Kousuke’s flashback in 212. He watches Nessa blow raspberries on Nol’s cheek, a warm and silly exchange full of so much love and care - and then he looks up at Yui, who wears her maternal mask, shadows falling eerie over her face. Doesn’t it feel so much like she set this up? Doesn’t it feel like she knew Nessa and Nol would be around? She fills his head with things like “the only way to get your father’s attention is to be just like him” and “we’re not like other families we’re so special” and “isn’t it just so wonderful that rand at least has enough time to eat with us”? That’s not vouching for Rand - that’s passive aggression towards Rand and creating an idea of who Rand is - that Rand unwittingly lives up to. Despite speaking of the affair in front Kousuke, she turns and tells him that “Your father values us too much, he would never do such a thing” - a blatant lie that only plays into that feeling Kousuke wears that he’s been cheated, that there exists a version of his father that has been denied to him. Nessa tells Nol that Rand was a kind, sweet, generous, funny man. Yui tells Kousuke that Rand is anything but funny and he has no time for jokes. Maybe both are true, but Nol’s unintentionally makes a point about how Yui speaks of Kousuke’s father, vs how Yui spoke of Nol’s father. Why would a parent speak ill of the other parent -- if not to make the child see them that way. 
(She also tells him there’s nothing she hates more than people who don’t take things seriously, and well, look at how Kousuke came out.) 
There’s a fragile cognitive dissonance between what Kousuke knows to be true - that is, the reality that has been shaped by his experiences and Yui’s manipulation - vs actual reality, and we’ve seen this a number of times when various events threaten that tentative balance. Kousuke at the club, angry and paranoid, is aware of what people really think of him. Deep down he knows people don’t see him as great, as an honorable gentleman. Deep down he knows he’s a selfish, judgmental asshole, but it doesn’t fit the fabricated reality he believes in, so it only comes out in his paranoia. He knows that Nol is like him, that he didn’t have the love Kousuke coveted, that he tried to get by quietly, but Kousuke’s fear and paranoia still thought of him as the boy who had earned the love that Kousuke couldn’t, and that made him a threat. He knows what kind of person Yui is and has tried to draw boundaries, but he’s still told her things about Nol that she could act on, because he knows what she is capable of. When people or events fracture that reality, he struggles and lashes out, because he needs that reality to keep it together, but it’s crumbling fast. 
Between the phone call with Rand and the moment that Rand shows up on the scene - what is the state of Kousuke’s reality? Is it crumbling? Is he trying to stuff the crumbling rocks back into the foundation? Will he retreat to his mother, the only one who can keep the tint of his rose colored glasses or will he be forced to face reality for what it really is? I wish it would be the latter, but I just don’t know if he’s ready for it yet. I don’t know if he can face that which he’s run from this whole time just yet. 
As for Nol, woooooooof. What a fucking NIGHT. To think - THIS IS HIS GODDAMN BIRTHDAY. On the one hand, I think, maybe this can give him some kind of peace. He’s finally gotten a piece of Kousuke’s mind, he finally knows how Kousuke sees him, what he thinks of him, and what motivated him all these years. Maybe with this knowledge, Nol will be able to walk away in peace. He doesn’t have to wonder anymore. He knows where he stands - and where he’s always stood - and I think he’s made it clear that he’s drawn his line. He is done, he is finished, with all of them. If Kousuke can find his way to the other side of the line, then good for him, but Nol has no intention of trying to bring him over anymore. 
I do think there’s a lot of room for them to reconcile in the future - when Nol’s raw anger has maybe ebbed, when Kousuke has found himself and learned to stand on his own ground, rather than prop himself up by his fabricated reality. But they are far from there. I’ve said before that I had a feeling maybe we’ll see the three main characters reunite in the time skip as adults after having gone separate ways, and that feeling still lingers. Nol has made it clear that he still wants to get away - and frankly I think he needs to. I wish he’d say so much to his friends, I wish he’d tell them where they stand. I feel so bad for Shinae, who went through so much grief and angst and really put herself out there to bring him back, to get her closure - and then when she had it and was ready to let him go, he insisted on staying. For him to turn around and leave like that again, after everything she told him, after the ways she opened up to herself, god that must hurt a lot. I guess on the one hand, she got the closure she wanted but.... it wasn’t even that long ago that Nol was making jabs at Kousuke for abandoning his friends, and there he goes doing it a SECOND time. 
There’s a piece I’d love to give more time and thought to - that maybe all along, on a deep, subconscious level, Kousuke feared Nol leaving and that’s why he’s always acted when Nol was on the leave. If Nol leaves he’ll be truly alone. If Nol goes, there is truly no one left who ever liked him, who ever saw any value in him. This post is already long enough, so I’ll try to spit that out later this week, if I can. I think it’s not a coincidence that Kousuke punched Nol as he was leaving, that he didn’t bring himself to do it when Nol promised he’d leave, just as he let Yui know Nol was planning to leave. Maybe he doesn’t recognize it yet, but I think Kousuke is terrified of being left alone and Nol escaping without him. 
Like I said, more on that later, but it’s an important point that I think ties in really well with this relationship Kousuke has towards Nol. It’s complicated, fucked up, toxic, and messy, and it needs a LOT of untangling by professional help. But I do think these last episodes really set something up for Nol and Kousuke’s future - as much as there is so much resentment and anger between them, there’s a mutual sense of longing, of needing each other to fill a void: for Nol, he sought out a brother in Kousuke, a companion against the adults in their lives; for Kousuke, that knowledge that Nol, too, had suffered that neglect, and was the only person who had ever truly liked him. I think one day when that anger has died, when they’ve made peace and hopefully worked on themselves, when Kousuke has freed himself, I think there’s a chance they will be able to reconcile. Like I said, maybe they’ll never be family to each other; there’s so much damage there, it’s really possible that can never be undone. But I think at some point, at least, they will see themselves on the same side, rather than each other. 
#I Love Yoo#ILY FP#ILY Spoilers#ILY Brainrot#Nol#Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn#Kousuke Hirahara#Rand#Yui Hirahara#one day I'll replace my Rand tag with his full name but I can never remember it#lol as you can see this is v v heavy on the brothers and their relationship with each other#i want to maybe do a post later where i point out little individual bits i've enjoyed in these episodes or little details that stuck out to#I REALLY want to write more about their dynamic as brothers but woooof we'll see if i wind up finding the time to write everything i want ;A#i just feel SO STRONGLY about this current arc it's EVERYTHING i've been waiting for and i just have so many thoughts that are all over the#place and it's sooooo had to wrangle them into one place!!!!!!!!!#(I think this is why I like when people send asks - it helps me concentrate on one point lol)#Basically I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings about the content quimchee is feeding us the insight into Kousuke i have been DESPERATE#for this part of Rand the continued hints to Yui and Kousuke's relationship#and yknow even if you don't like a character (at least for me personally) i can often still find empathy#and man i feel for Kousuke in this one#all these truths he's finally releasing all these fears he's facing and one that literally materializes in front of him????#holy shit that's gotta hurt ouchies for EVERYONE#CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS ALL ON NOL'S BIRTHDAY?!#CAN YOU BELIEVE HIS LAST NIGHT BEFORE PRISON HIS FUCKING BIRTHDAY IS GOING DOWN LIKE THIS?!#jesus CHRIST#ILY Commentary
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hua-fei-hua · 5 months
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at church reading the hymn lyrics like "hey i learned that word from genshin!" and "hey i learned that word from genshin!" and "hey i learned that word from translating song lyrics so that i could write genshin fic!" and "hey i learned that word from genshin!" and finally "omg i learned that word from the king's avatar"
#花話#it's funny bc i Objectively know more cn than the last time i was here seven years ago which is great#bc the last time i learned any cn in a classroom was seven years ago lol#and i think that's probably a combination of Very Much Not Wanting To Lose What Skills I Have +gnshn n similar giving me occasional practice#but yeah of the words i Remember where i learned them it's like 85% gnshn 14% lyric translation n 1% king's avatar lmao#been trying to connect my laptop to the mobile hotspot i have here and Suffering(tm)... pain and agonie#i mentioned this on main but apparently i just Cannot have a line acct for w/e reason#(i suspect it's bc i made an acct in america on my phone number but temp sim card --> diff phone number here)#(and since i didn't expect this i didn't tie the acct to an email --> i am unable to have line)#however my mother and i have graduated past emails and are now just using regular texting to communicate it seems#ANYWAY i get to see the jade cabbage today. i hope. and other things i also hope!!#i was going somewhere w/the line thing OH it's bc on the way home from church my mom saw a sign that said 元氣 and was like 'genki desu!'#it is always kind of a surprise to hear my mom speak jp bc it sounds simultaneously clumsy and full of confidence#she has friends in japan (college roommate + old pen pal + i have no idea she's lived Quite a life i feel) n i once found her old letters#and was kind of surprised bc they were like entirely in jp so obviously she could read n understand a lot#but anyway my mom went on to talk abt how taiwan continues to have significant japanese influence to this day n i was like yes... weebs c':#it's also interesting bc we'll go sightseeing n she'll be like “ye that's from american/jp occupation times but they gave back the land'#'so now it's xyz' n i'll be like. almost 'tails.jpg A Colonialism.'
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pandora15 · 6 months
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currently going through it for reasons but I did catch up on schoolwork today and am ahead with my assignments and things once again, which is good
not sure if it's gonna last but I'm taking victories where I can
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nicholasdwuffwood · 1 year
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tristamp s2 confirmed AND timeskip p much confirmed ??? if im readin mutos tweet on twt right & timeskip (n tristamp s1 at least being like... kind of a prequel?? Idk what else to call it) is confirmed everything abt s1 will finally make a little more sense to me lmao.
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poptartmochi · 8 months
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however.. it's not just blorbo thoughts that haunt me with that song... it's teacher thoughts too! 🤯
#for the past few months I've been going back and forth about whether i want to teach middle or high school#and this is nowhere near a deciding factor#BUT... consider the following with me.. performing one version as a mass piece at the beginning of the year with the full choir and then.#🤌🏻#at the end of the year doing the other with just the seniors because they have become the old man who will never again pass this way 😭#i feel like dickau's would be better as a mass piece because of it's more relaxed rhythms. the chords sound fuller than macdonald's which#would probably sound nicer with all hands on deck! and then macdonald's more rhythmically challenging arrangement would be cool for the#seniors 😁 but this is to my untrained and pretty rusty ear so 🕴️ we'll see how i feel when i go back to school#another idea I've entertained is giving each class a like. Challenge Song their freshman year and recording it‚ then reprising it their#senior year and letting them compare their performances to reflect their growth as musicians.. i think that would be really cool :]#i dont think i could conduct the bridge builder with that in mind though.. id start crying lol! but i think it is fundamental as a choir#student to watch your director cry in the middle of a song+ continue on as if nothing was happening#but anyhow idk man.. the idea of working with high schoolers to really build up their musicality and prepare them for the world is very#appealing to me but you can't be a musician without the foundations which i could establish in middle school#and foundations are very fun to teach as well!! but foundations can be taught in a beginning choir course or during summer camp#so 😩#the music i want to direct is all satb which suits high school better. but is it selfish to choose which way to go based on what music you#like? 🕴️🕴️ the contemplations man.... anyhow i have a lot more growing and learning and Studying to do before this will even matter#can't prepare kids for the world when I've scarcely explored it myself!#sriracha.txt
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probably won't get any writing done today simply bc work fucking killed me today (like i had to stay an extra hour and a half to get everything done) but hey, i updated my avi, so that's smth!
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orcelito · 2 years
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Anyways here r my new nails. Warm vs cold. The pic makes the cold nails look orange but irl it's more of a red-orange. Polish itself is red but over the white backdrop it looks lighter.
We'll see how I feel about these in a few days
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flintbian · 1 year
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Well. The light show was a bust. RIP
#it's disappointing...to say the least#i've been back for almost a week now so I've had time to process before I write#we got unlucky. It was cloudy/snowing all but one day. the one day it wasn't the bz wasn't low enough and the kp wasn't high enough#the most we saw was what looked like white fog through the clouds even through a camera#apparently the day before we got there and the day after we left it was beautiful but were just unlucky#and social media algorithms know I track it and now after it's like it's mocking me showing the beauty I never got to see#i'll likely never get another chance...at times like these i feel like my life was just a massive failure in all regards#i know it's a game of chance but i had hoped maybe the universe would grant me one wish. One kindness. But I've never been lucky have i?#but you miss it if you don't try at all and I did. I did try. That's all you can do#i've been a bit depressed since but I'm determined to actually live a little and explore after all I live in such a beautiful place#i thought all the hikes would be inaccessible but I found some and I'm determined to see the beautiful things all around me#there are books I want to read and food I want to bake. Maybe if I last we'll try again#though extremely difficult the travel is#and there were some good things like I met some amazing people and cuddled with five dogs in a cuddle pile 🥰#they seemed to sense I was in pain and were gentle around my legs. Codiac always demanded More attention#even as he's already in your lap and you're already petting him 😂 even the shy wolf mix joined my pile 🥹#i got jokes that I'm a cyborg or biomech based on the scanner and x rays lol. saw and touched some Aspen trees and saw the big dipper#but overall a disappointment and I'm recovering now...not sure what to do next honestly#it's hard. How do you cope when you Know there's no purpose to the pain...to all this suffering. It was all for nothing. Why continue?#my dreams are all dead and I'm resigned to disappointment. hope is a curse#but part of me claws for breath saying I want to live I want to live if only for the hope of it getting better or finally experiencing...#but I never do. I just get worse and worse relegated to a solitary room resigned to disappointment and pain and failure#why continue suffering for suffering's sake? But I have to try. I hear hiccup's voice and remember my promise#idk why. Things are constantly downhill and my dreams die and I never amounted to anything and my body is a broken nightmare#I'm heartbroken but I'll pick myself up. Try another day as long as I can. And now I'm making mini goals#I wish to read The Lost Metal in November. That's what I'll do for now#but yeah my one chance failed. That's just the way of it I suppose. I just have to be resigned to that now. Maybe eternity will be kinder.#after all hope is painful. ive added much salt to the sea#to one more day then#p
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pettydollie · 5 months
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could you IMAGINE bakugou having a gf whos a teacher?? but not just any teacher, nono. a KINDERGARTEN TEACHER. lowkey when he sees u teaching a kid abt counting apples or something, he will think abt having children with you. just seeing you being so gentle nd sweet with little brats munchkins turns his brain into mush.
on one particular day, he went into your classroom wearing his hero costume for a little q/a type thing. everyone was so impressed just by looking at him, even if they didn't know who he was. they were all sat whispering to their friends at small desks as bakugou's large figure just strutted in LOL.
you give him a tiny little peck when he walked into the classroom, to which some kids let out "ooo"s and snickered. you clapped your hands together. "okay boys and girls, let's walk over to the magic carpet for circle time!" you led bakugou with you to the large rug where two chairs were set.
the kids were all sat in a circle, excitedly waiting to talk to the number two hero!! bakugou sat down somewhat awkwardly as for the first time in a while, he was a teeeensy bit nervous for whatever reason. "today we have a special guest joining us for circle time! does anyone know who he is?" you grinned as you saw many hands go up.
"yes, ryu?" you picked on an adorable little boy in the center. "that's mr. dynamite from the news!" he yelled.
"that's right, ryu! but let's use our inside voices, please." you smiled. "does anyone know what mr. dynamite does?" you questioned again. one little girl was squirming in her seat, hand held high. "go ahead, kanako." you nodded to the girl who sat up straighter upon being called on.
"he saves people, l/n-sensei!"
"damn right i do." bakugou smirked pridefully. you lightly nudged his shoulder. "no cursing." you whispered. he rolled his eyes but listened nonetheless. "okay, starting from this side of the rug," you pointed to the left. "you can ask anything you want to the hero, as long as you are kind. and if you don't have a question just say 'pass' and we'll go straight to the next person." you announced. all the children nodded in unison.
"start us off, please." you handed the 'talking mic' to the first kid. "mr. dynamite sir, where are your blasters?" he curiously turned his head to the side. "huh?-" bakugou looked down at his hands. "my gauntlets? left those guys at work. they're too powerful to be here." he answered.
the punks students continued to ask their questions and bakugou replied calmly like this was an everyday event. "you're big." a boy stated. bakugou quirked a brow. that's all this brat had to say? "i know." he replied nonchalantly. "why?" the kid blinked, keeping a straight face.
"uh, why?? i dunno, kid. jus' the way i am." he shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. the kid folded his arms and moved to sit on his knees. "it's my turn now.." a quiet girl next to him tapped on his shoulder, reaching out for the mic. the boy stuck out his tongue at her before turning away to look at bakugou again. "thas' not a real answer."
"kenji, that wasn't kind. you had your turn, now please give the mic to haru." you frowned. haru's eyes turned glossy and her lip began to quiver, but kenji still wasn't letting up. "thas' not fair, sensei!" kenji whined.
"hold it, kid." bakugou stepped in. kenji's attention turned to bakugou, an angry pout written all over his face. "ya ask me sum dumb question," he began. oh gosh, a dumb question? he's not wrong, but he can't say that to a 5 year old! "katsuki." you muttered, trying to get him to stop. but he kept going anyway.
"but i answered it, right? y'r not being a team player to y'r classmate, buddy." bakugou finished, waiting to see what would happen next. the room fell silent. kenji had listened, handed the microphone to haru. he was still upset though, everyone could see it.
"one minute, haru. kenji," you called out. the boy looked up with fat tears in his eyes. "is there something you want to say to your friend?" kenji wiped his eyes with the back of sleeve and mumbled "sorry." to haru. "is okay." haru accepted happily with a toothy grin.
bakugou leaned back in his chair, feeling satisfied with himself as the questions continued. huh, who knew right? you could get used to this.
when the period was over, bakugou waved goodbye to all the kids. however, he bent down in front of kenji and put his fist out. although the child was still somewhat annoyed, he couldn't hold in his grin as he fist bumped a pro hero. "let's all say 'thank you' to, mr. dynamite!" you stood up from your chair, folding your hands together.
"thank you, mr. dynamite!!"
bakugou kissed your cheek and walked to the door with you following behind. you opened the door and he adjusted his mask quickly. he ruffled your hair. "see ya at home, babe."
a/n: literally so rushed im so sorry i just had this thought and i had to get it out. will for sure be coming back to this later :D
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infamous-if · 28 days
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April ✮ 1 ✮ 2024 – update
Hello everyone! Happy (late) Easter and Trans Visibility day! I was offline a bit so apologies for not saying that yesterday.
It's April! And I've gotten such great feedback on the prologue! I'm super happy that everyone liked the additions and changes made in the prologue. It's going to make MC much stronger as a character I feel, and I'm excited to use that in the future. Knowing the entire story gives me a bit of an edge on knowing how things will impact what and since I can't share anything I will say that what I changed in the prologue will make future chapters MUCH better. Especially the later ones...guess you'll have to wait until CH 15 to see (lol).
I know I've been a bit late on beta testers, I've just had a lot on my plate. I've already created the beta testing discord and I'm finishing that this month in anticipation for the CH 1 rewrite, which I'm finishing in April if all continues to go well. Like the prologue, it will be dropped on Patreon as well. As well as the rest of the Valentine's Day stuff.
That's all! Chapter 1 is nearly done and it's April 1st so i'm optimistic. Chapter 2 is a whole other behemoth due to how big it is and how much I sort of want to change it, but we'll see! I've been working on Chapter 3 on my off time so once those are done Chapter 3 shouldn't take too long. I always say this but just know, I am working on it! I don't want a lot of time to go by between the Chapter 2 rewrite and the Chapter 3 release so I'm writing with that in mind :)
April To-Do:
beta testers
finish chapter 1 and release to beta testers/patrons
Patreon content
rewrite chapter 2
continue writing chapter 3
Have a good day and have a great April!
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jk97 · 2 months
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Unprofessional Attraction | TWO
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♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 18.2K ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, halloween, drinking alcohol, perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, pet names (angel, pretty, smart girl, etc), pinch of sexting and unintentional phone sex, office head (giving and receiving), fingering, praise, unprotected sex, riding, jealousy, blackmail, good ol' porn with plot ♡ A/N - my goodness thank you for 1000+ notes ♡ sorry it's so long but I appreciate the patience!! the school semester timeline in this is kinda unrealistic but ignore that, fictional romance has no bounds LOL. This might end up 4 parts instead of 3, we'll see what my brain figures out.
Part 1 | Part 2 | ?
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“I’m starting to think you’re kidnapping me.”
For the past 30 minutes into this drive, something Yunho had initially assured you wouldn’t take long, you’ve been alternating between staring out of the window at your surroundings slowly becoming unfamiliar and the small bouquet of flowers sitting in your lap. Even as you gaze at him inquisitively, he doesn’t move his attention away from the road. When he doesn't answer for longer than what you deem appropriate, your brows flicker up in amusement. That gets his attention.
“Oh, right, that’s a bad thing,” he clears his throat dramatically, though you know he’s just poking fun at your impatience, “I suppose I could ruin the surprise if you’re getting restless.”
“No, I’m not! I’m just very curious why it’s so far away,” you stop him quickly. That’s absolutely a reasonable question and Yunho decides to give you the answer.
“I know I said I wanted to be discreet but…” he pauses and sighs, shaking his head, “I just can’t. Figured the next best thing would be to just leave our area for the day and do something fun around strangers instead. I just want us to be comfortable, I guess.”
“You really weren’t kidding about being thoughtful, huh?” You hum softly, hand finding his own sitting on the gear shift. He allows you to thread his fingers between yours without hesitation.
“I meant everything I said, yes.”
“I guess I can be patient then,” you feign annoyance, rolling your eyes. 
The earnest laugh that your silliness evokes from him fills the car and makes the atmosphere even warmer than before. The gift of flowers had already charmed you upon getting into his car, so you can’t imagine that there’s something even better waiting for you at the end of the drive. As much as you’d love to know what this man had settled on within the last few days, you allow yourself to indulge in the feeling of being whisked away and surprised instead. In the meantime, you busy yourself again by humming to his radio and continuing to survey your surroundings passing by quickly the further you drive.
There are many things Yunho is good at and he’s a very intelligent man, but cooking is just not one of those things. Because of this, he generally eats out instead of bothering with making food. This is particularly one of the reasons why he never had an issue when it came to eating dinner with you outside of his home. He supposes if he wants to be a proper and worthy bachelor, he should learn one of these days not to add too much salt to soup, or how to properly fry an egg without burning it to a crisp. Today’s decision to take you both to a cooking class is motivated by those circumstances. Sushi shouldn’t be that hard to master, right?
It begins easily enough. 
Each group has an individual station, and the class starts with a simple seaweed salad as an appetizer. He makes sure to follow all the instructions to a T, his only deviation being adding a dash of red pepper flakes because he likes spice. Yunho’s already so used to you asking for a taste of his food that he immediately goes to share his final product without you even asking.
While you’re still mixing your own he beckons for your attention, holding out a bite with his chopsticks, “Open.”
This is something you’ve done before, yes, but only a few times. It’s a bit more embarrassing though while doing such a thing in front of other people, and he can’t help but notice how you can’t look him directly in the eyes while obliging him. You’re so cute when you’re shy.
“How does it taste?” He asks before you can even get to chewing, but he’s a bit nervous that you might spit it out before he does.
When you do get to chew and swallow, he’s surprised to see your eyes light up, “Wow that’s delicious, Yu!” 
Asking him for another bite inflates his ego just a pinch too much, but he can’t help it when you’re praising him for his work. Maybe to hide his inability to cook anything else he’d simply make you seaweed salad for the rest of your life. Yeah, that sounds nice… He tries to suppress the confident smirk tugging at his lips and hypes himself up for the rest of the lesson. After everyone in the room has wrapped up that portion of the lesson, the instructor moves forward with beginning the sushi crafting.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you meet your friends?” You inquire in a low voice while the instructor carries on about how much rice is an appropriate amount, clarifying, “Mr. Park and Mr. Choi.”
“I met both in college, but I met Seonghwa first,” he muses, “I was a sophomore and he was a junior, and we both happened to choose the same music elective that year.”
“What the hell is a linguist doing in a music class? Felt adventurous that year?”
“I’m quite the singer actually,” Yunho reveals with a confident smile, but his arms cease their rice flattening when he hears you try to stifle laughter. His brows crinkle as he peers over at you with a prominent pout tugging at his lips, “What, you don’t believe me?”
“No, I do, it’s just–” You give him a once over. “I’m imagining this angelic voice coming out of you and it’s really cute.”
“Angelic…” he muses, then turns back to flattening his rice and smiles to himself, “I guess I’ll have to show you one day and you can determine that for yourself.”
“I’d love that, actually.”
The instructor announces that next you’ll be slicing up salmon and avocado to put inside your rolls. You and Yunho work diligently on splitting the filet of salmon provided between each other to see who can do it best and follow her lead once more. 
“Continue the story,” you whisper to him once the instructor gives the last of her enthusiastic pitches on how to glide the knife through in one stroke for each piece, “What happened after music class?”
“Well, we became friends after pairing up for a duet project… and then we met San the following year after he hired Seonghwa for tutoring in history.” Yunho pauses for a moment to put an immense amount of concentration into his first slice, which still definitely ends up way too thick. “He did things like that on the side for money sometimes. Put up posters in the cafes and everything.”
Even though you’re also concentrating, you nod so he knows you’re paying attention. Unlike Yunho, you seem to have picked up on the cutting technique pretty quickly. His eyes keep flickering back and forth between your work and his, and he huffs in dissatisfaction.
“Sheesh, that was quite some time ago,” you state absentmindedly.
“Excuse me, are you calling me old?”
“Possibly.”
For the nonchalant jab at his confidence, Yunho nudges your cutting arm mid-slice and causes you to abruptly cut the current piece in half. The flabbergasted look on your face and the way your mouth drops open at a loss for words makes him giggle.
“I’m so sorry beautiful, it’s these old brittle bones,” he feigns remorse, lips pulling into a dishonest pout when you glare at him, “Can never keep my balance these days with them, you know?”
“Maybe they’re also the reason your slices look as big as filets,” you quip back, “Might as well throw those on the grill, right?”
Yunho’s pout turns genuine. You only apologize because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you both agree to let you cut the salmon while he works on the avocados instead. It doesn’t take long before you’re finished placing the necessary ingredients onto your rice and following the instructor's words on how to successfully roll it all together. This is something that Yunho is actually able to do decently, and he marvels at the way he’s got a genuine sushi roll in front of his eyes made from his own hands. Moving forward, his mind is consumed with cutting it into perfect bite-sized pieces when you tap his shoulder.
“Hey, do you like soy sauce on your sushi?”
“Sometimes, why?” He replies, and when he turns around to peer down at you he’s met with a pair of chopsticks holding up something for him to try. 
You smile in place of instruction, but he opens his mouth without even having to be told to do so. Unlike you, he doesn’t mind holding eye contact while you feed him. It feels intimate even with strangers around you. Dozens of butterflies manifest in your stomach and go into even more of a frenzy when he sighs in contentment. He’ll be nice and pretend he didn’t see the way you swallow the lump in your throat. 
That’s when you notice you put just a little too much soy sauce on his piece, and your thumb casually swipes the excess from the corner of his mouth. It’s an action that should be helpful and innocent, but you put your thumb in your mouth to lick it clean without even thinking. He absolutely takes notice. Every time Yunho thinks he’s got the upper hand in wooing you, you make him lose his cool so easily.
“Your face is red. Was it too salty?”
Yunho clears his throat and shakes his head hastily when he sees you’re genuinely concerned. He really wants nothing more than to kiss you at this moment, but that would have to wait until you both are alone. The rest of the class goes by quickly when tasked with making a different sushi roll and some strawberry-matcha ice cream for dessert. Yunho thinks he might see a hint of disappointment on your face when things come to an end and you have to take off your aprons. 
“There’s a park not too far away from here if you’re okay with walking for a bit. Burn off some calories?” Yunho proposes when you both finally leave the building, and you nod eagerly. For the second time today, you link fingers and begin your venture.
The walk ends up being a bit longer than you both expect, but it doesn’t take much time to find a secluded spot where you could have some privacy when there. It’s fairly brisk today, so when Yunho removes his jacket to grant you a clean place to sit on the grass, you immediately tell him you don’t mind sitting on the ground at all, that you’d rather him be warm. He assures you that he’s not cold at all (a big fat lie) and doesn’t mind getting a little dirt on his pants, so you give in and situate yourself on his jacket. The silence between you both is comfortable, filled with the sounds of people playing somewhere nearby and birds occupying trees in the branches lingering over you. You debate about striking up more conversation about his past, but he beats you to the punch on speaking.
“I haven’t done this in a while you know,” Yunho suddenly divulges, “Have you?”
“Gone on a date?” When he nods you shake your head, “No, actually. Haven’t met anyone worth going past the texting phase, to be honest... Well, besides that one day.”
You feel a bit guilty when still having to lie about that phony date that led to your first dinner together, but it’s not like it’s something you can change now. 
“As bad as it sounds… I’m glad you got stood up that day,” his eyes fall to his lap when he mumbles this. He hopes that doesn’t come across negatively.
The corners of your mouth tug into a smile at his honesty. Maybe one day in the future you’d gain enough courage to tell him it was a lie. You wonder if he would genuinely be upset… Though, you suppose you’re thinking way too far ahead into the future for those kinds of worries. 
Instead of dwelling on it, you simply say, “I am too, Yu.”
“You’ve been using that nickname more often,” he points out after a moment of thought, “Any particular reason?”
“It’s just a habit when we get alone… helps me separate you from how I know you on campus,” you reply and glance over at him apprehensively, “I’m sorry, it probably sounds too childish, right? I can stop.”
“No no, I prefer when you call me Yu,” he admits, palm digging into the grass as he leans back on his arm with a sigh, “Everybody else calls me Yunho, Mr. Jeong, whatever.”
“Am I not in the same category as everybody else?”
“Not at all,” he professes without any hesitation, lolling his head to the side to finally peer back at you. The soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth makes your heart stutter. 
“Duly noted,” is all you’re able to mumble back. When his eyes go from surveying your face for any unease at his bluntness to zeroing in on your lips, you can’t help the heat manifesting in your cheeks.
“Are you comfortable if I kiss you?”
“I feel like we’re way past that step, no?” You quirk a brow.
“Was more so asking since we’re technically in public, but I suppose that’s also true,” he laughs softly, leaning over and pressing his lips to yours before you can reply to him with any nonsense.
His lips are always so soft and plush, and it’s so juxtaposed with the way he kisses you with intensity and clear intent. He’s never really hesitant of himself when you both kiss, never thinking twice about selfishly stealing your air, despite any anxiety he may have about your situation inside of himself. He’s a bit too enamored with the way your tongue still tastes like strawberry matcha to realize that his free hand has dipped under the hem of your dress, fingertips creeping and leaving a trail of heat as they inch further and further up your thigh. As much as you’d love to indulge him, your nerves won’t let you, no matter how secluded your spot might be.
Your hand wraps around his wrist gently, giggling onto his lips as you warn him, “Don’t get any funny ideas. Like you said, we’re in public.”
“You’re absolutely right,” he sighs reluctantly. He can’t deny that he’s slightly embarrassed for even letting his hands move with a mind of their own. There’s just something about you that makes him feel like he doesn’t have to think so hard when you’re around, and it makes him lose his senses in the process. Everything just feels natural. An affectionate smile plays at his lips while he rubs the material of your dress between his fingers, “It’s getting pretty late, the sun is setting.”
“Let’s head back before the traffic gets too crazy then, yeah?” You propose and he nods silently before pushing one last peck to your lips.
The drive back to your apartment feels much quicker than it did leaving, and this stirs up a hint of despondency in your stomach. It feels like your time with him has ended just as soon as it started, but you suppose you should appreciate the full day you did get to spend with him. Still, you know something like today won’t happen that often, and it makes you a bit sad the closer you get to your building. 
Like the gentlemen he is, Yunho walks with you up to the second floor and to your door, hands shoved deep in his pockets while he debates on how to say bye. He doesn’t know if he should kiss you goodbye when anybody could be watching now that you’re back in the area. Then again, he supposes even walking you up to your place was risky to begin with. While he’s debating over these things in his mind, you’ve already opened your front door. He doesn’t even realize you’re staring at him until you call his name, to which he’s subsequently sputtering a bunch of apologies after being caught overthinking. 
“Why don’t you come inside for a little bit,” you hum, more as an instruction than a request. 
Yunho’s tongue prods at the inside of his cheek in rumination over the various prospects of what exactly coming inside could entail, but the way you’re gazing at him with those beguiling eyes is already luring him in before his thoughts can get the best of him. His feet move on their own, taking tentative steps into your abode with an overwhelming feeling of excitement pooling in his chest. The sound of the front door being locked is followed by you coming up behind him and wrapping your hands around his torso. It’s very sweet, the way you bury your head in his back and squeeze him in an endearing hug.
“I really enjoyed today,” you tell him as best you can with your cheek still squished against his back. You feel the warm chuckle he lets out reverberating through his back. He wishes he could reciprocate your hug, but it seems you’re intent on staying behind him.
He settles for saying, “Thank you for giving me the chance to fix things, ____. I just wanted to show you that you mean a lot to me.”
Then, there’s a beat of silence, and he wonders if everything is okay. Maybe that was too much…
“What’s your day look like tomorrow?” you suddenly ask softly, and Yunho's eyes fall to watch as your hands drop and ghost around his belt. 
His Adam's Apple bobs anxiously before he answers in an equally soft voice, “Sundays I… I usually prepare my slides and lesson plans for the week. Meet with the boys in the evening after I’m done for some drinks…”
Your hands gently undo his belt as he’s talking, humming “ mhm ” every few words to let him know you’re indeed listening. 
“Maybe you should leave in the morning then,” you propose, fingers gently popping open the button of his pants. You can feel him take a deep inhale the moment you finally gently tug at his zipper.
“Yeah, maybe I should.”
That night, Yunho learns several things about you.
He gets to learn the ins and outs of your gag reflex. You have a slight affinity with deep-throating your partners, and he falls in love with the view of you even trying to with tears in the corners of your eyes. The way your lips stretch around his thick cock… It’s an image he stores in his mental album of you for later use.
He gets to learn about the tattoo you have hidden on your back as he’s fervently driving that same thick cock of his into you from behind. He traces it delicately with his fingers before reaching forward to grab at your hair, pulling it back for some well-needed leverage while his sweaty thighs smack against yours over and over.
He especially loves learning that you like being talked through things, and he’s already made you cum twice by utilizing his voice. Rinse and repeat, the way your greedy cunt squeezes and milks him for all he’s worth when says, “Remind me, what’s my name?” And when you moan out that nickname that he likes so much, he replies with, “That’s my smart girl. Looking so pretty, you feel so fucking good around me. You gonna cum for me again, pretty? I can feel you squeezing, go ahead and give it to me.”
Needless to say, it was a very long and educational night. 
In the morning, Yunho’s desires get the best of him, and he manages to inconspicuously steal a pair of panties from the laundry pile in your room, shoving them into his pants pocket while you’re in the bathroom. He makes sure to take a plain-looking pair, something he’s sure you won’t notice is missing. There’s a slight feeling of guilt once he’s nearly home, though. 
It’s okay, it’s just a one-time thing, he tells himself over and over, I’ll return them the next time I’m over.
“YOU WHAT?”
Yeosang slaps his hand over his mouth but, to be fair, his reaction is entirely involuntary. He had promised you he would remain calm, but how could he with this kind of information? You repeatedly sputter that, while you may be in the back of the library, he is very much going to cause a disturbance if he doesn’t shut his fucking mouth.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he exhales, leaning in with eyes as big as saucers, “You came in too hot, I need the foreplay first.”
“Don’t phrase it like that, good Lord,” you groan.
“What else am I supposed to say when you tell me you’ve fucked him and none of the lead-up? Fuck, did he even take you out to dinner first?”
“Of course he did,” you defend him quickly, “We’ve spent a lot of time together actually. Mostly dinners and things of that nature.”
“I’m mostly shocked that it took you this long to fuck him. Seems like you hooked him fairly easily.”
“Well…” you cover your face just enough to where an eye can peep out between your fingers, and Yeosang eyes you curiously, “No, that wasn’t the first time…”
“Obviously you hate me, ____,” your best friend immediately states, clasping his hands together, “This is the only suitable explanation of why you wouldn’t tell me this until now. I literally begged you for info like an idiot weeks ago!”
“I’m sorry! It was just—”
“Nah, denied,” he holds a hand up to shush you, “Worst best friend ever.”
“Yeo, I explicitly told you progress was being made. Did I not?”
“You failed to tell me that it was being made between your legs,” he snaps in a whisper-yell. “How many times?”
“Only twice, okay? You haven’t missed much, I promise.”
Yeosang sits in silence with his head perched on his palm, seemingly marinating in all of the information he’s been slammed within the last 10 minutes. There are very few times you’ve seen him at a loss for words, but this moment surely makes the list. 
“I didn’t think he would cave that easily, honestly.” He finally speaks. You release all the pent-up air in your chest that you hadn’t realized you were holding in waiting for his words. “What did you do to him ____?”
He pleads for the final time for you to start from the beginning and explain, and you finally grant that to him without getting too into the nitty gritty. You’re a bit bashful recounting some of the lengths you took in setting this all up, but Yeosang simply nods in understanding at each one. If anyone was going to be supportive, it was always going to be your frontline cheerleader. 
After taking in the full story, he thinks it’s only proper to ask, “What’s your plan beyond this point?”
“Well, exactly what I said to you a long time ago,” you tell him frankly, “If all goes well, I want to be in a relationship with him after I graduate. I don’t see him saying no to that with the way he’s already treating me...”
Yeosang notices the way your demeanor has changed with this answer. Previously, the humorous lilt in your voice was much more prominent. Those same sentiments and that joking attitude seems to be long gone. He can see it in your eyes, the way you’re taking this more seriously. He wonders what Yunho could’ve possibly done to turn you into such a romantic over him. The answer to that would simply be: everything. 
“You know, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure if you were telling the truth about wanting things beyond sex at first,” Yeosang tells you honestly. He may be a goofball, but he’s able to be serious when needed. And despite the foolishness leading up to this statement, his voice is earnest when he says, “I can see this working out for you as long as you’re careful.”
“I hope so, Yeo. I really do.”
On the following Wednesday, you and Yeosang are both seated in Yunho’s class wasting time on your phones as class is set to start. Usually, Yunho is very punctual with starting because his lectures are so long, so you’re curious as to what the hold-up is today. You peek over your laptop and spot him talking to a guy you’ve never seen before and, as far as you know, you’ve never recognized him in this class. They nod at each other before you see Yunho clear his throat.
“Everyone, I want to take a few minutes at the top of the hour to introduce someone important,” Yunho begins, loud enough that everyone can hear and cease chatter. “I’m sure some of you recognize him from other classes. For those who don't, however, this is Wooyoung Jung. He’ll be serving as my teacher’s assistant for the remainder of the semester.”
“I’m happy to be able to help any way I can,” Wooyoung proclaims to everyone with a sweet smile before turning back towards Yunho, “And thank you Mr. Jeong for allowing me the opportunity.”
You wonder if this is something Yunho truly chose or whether it was sprung upon him; it’s fairly late into the semester for something like this to be introduced. He does have quite the workload though, you muse. Surely with new hands to help, he’ll manage his time a bit better. You wonder if that’ll mean you get to spend more time with him while Wooyoung is taking care of things that would usually dig into his free time. As if Yunho knows you’re thinking about him, his eyes find yours while Wooyoung is taking his seat at the front of the class. Something about the ambiguous gaze he gives you when others are around makes you itch for his attention even more than normal. He doesn’t ever fail at making it look natural, like he could be looking at anyone for nothing in particular. Those little moments keep things fun.
The answer to your previous queries would end up being that, yes, this was something Yunho chose himself. When presented with an opportunity for a student specializing in his major to offer assistance after being accepted into the Work-Study program later than most, of course he said yes. San had been telling him since he began working at the university last semester that he should take on a TA while he got acclimated to teaching, but Yunho had convinced himself that he could do it all on his own. While Yunho had been pretty open about how terrible his workload was, considering he has 3 class sections, he was never completely honest with you about how much stress this caused him on a day-to-day basis. 
He was excited that this would free up some of his previously stolen time and take some pressure off of his shoulders. He was also looking forward to being able to spend some of that newly open time with you, especially. That’s why when you unknowingly throw a wrench into those intentions before leaving his class Friday, he has a hard time keeping the dejection he feels from showing on his face. 
“It might be a while before we’re able to hang out again,” you sigh, “Midterms are stressing me out but I don’t want to psych myself out right before I graduate—”
“____,” Yunho places his hand on your head tenderly, silencing your rambling in the kindest way he can. He doesn’t like seeing you so stressed out. “Focus on yourself and do your best, okay? Don’t lose sight of the finish line. Being prepared and passing is much more important than us seeing each other.”
You gaze up at him with some of the prettiest dispirited eyes he’s ever seen. How is he supposed to remain selfless when you look like this? Of course, he’d love to be selfish and fill your time; he knows you’re a smart girl so you’d have nothing to worry about for his midterm at least. He’d take care of it. Nevertheless, you’re still a student of others as well, and he has to extinguish that greed as fast as it ignites.
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Of course, pretty. You know where to find me whenever you’re ready,” he smiles and gives your cheek a teasing pinch before opening the lecture hall’s door, “See you next Wednesday.”
As expected, two weeks of studying and taking tests consume your entire schedule. Yunho is not much better, and he’s consistently cursing at himself for making the test he gave out to all of his sections so long. Even though he wants to truly know if his students understand all the material thus far, he forgets how time-consuming making the test so extensive can be for him as well. Having Wooyoung around helps quite a bit, even though he feels slightly guilty for putting such a large amount on him when he becomes overwhelmed. Wooyoung never complains though, so Yunho is grateful to have gotten a TA who actually does the work and does it well. During this time, you both try to keep regular contact, offering words of encouragement to each other and discussing what you should do to celebrate when you get your passing grades back. 
Directly following the end of midterms week is the weekend before Halloween. Jongho had sent out a text the week prior that he was holding a party at his parent’s rental house, which is currently unoccupied for the season. The man had friends from several different circles because he was involved in many different extracurriculars outside of his studies, so you were certain this party was going to be fairly large.
Naturally, as best friends do, you and Yeosang decide to wear matching costumes for his party. Procrastination had gotten the best of you both with midterms added into the mix, however, and the best thing the two of you were able to come up with before the weekend was a sexy nurse and doctor duo. Simple, but effective.
You both rode along with Hongjoong, who had chosen to be the designated driver for the evening. It’s uncomfortably brisk outside, too brisk to be dressed like you are; however, upon opening the door, you can barely get two steps into the property before Jongho stops everyone in their tracks. His hands hold out exactly what you knew would be coming before even arriving at the house. It’s Jongho’s signature thing.
“You know the rules,” he says with that mischievous smile of his you know too well. 
You must take one tequila shot to be admitted past the door.
All three of you quickly take the shot glasses from your host and toss them back without even giving cheers. The burn of alcohol and the robust taste of bitter poison stains your tongue. It hurts a little on the throat on the way down and you salivate to adjust to the pain, immediately making a face of disgust. 
“God, it never gets easier,” you cough.
“I’ll grab you something easier,” he laughs while rubbing your back, “Same flavor as usual?”
“Please and thank you.”
As promised, he comes back with two bottles of honeydew melon soju in tow and some fresh shot glasses. It doesn’t take too many heavy-handed shots before laughs and giggles begin to bubble up in your throat for no real reason. You forgot that you didn’t put anything on your stomach before leaving the house, and it’s becoming very apparent every time you feel your head shoot up to outer space and come back down just as quickly. That’s a non-issue though because Jongho’s catered this party with enough food to feed a small village. Anyone watching you stuffing your face with Halloween-themed carbs and sweets is the last thing on your mind. Round two of shots is followed by the intense feeling of needing to dance. Even while intoxicated, you’re perceptive enough to notice various sets of eyes on you whilst dancing with your friends. Every so often, an owner of a set will make his way over and try to chat you up. Like clockwork, you say the same thing to every new person:
Sorry, I’m not single.
You say this sentence so many times in the span of an hour that it begins to feel real. Then again, isn’t it already? As far as you’re concerned, you were spoken for until Yunho said otherwise. You wonder if he feels the same about himself... When you start having a small internal existential crisis about whether Yunho thinks the same, that’s when you know you’re approaching your limit for the night. You step away to grab some water and begin the process of flushing your body. When you make it back to your circle, things have changed. Mingi, with his girlfriend in tow, lets everyone know that they’re going to find a private room before taking off up the stairs of the house. You know it’s irrational and probably motivated by the alcohol in your system, but you can't help but feel jealous that they can do something like that so easily. If you could see Yunho and drag him to a room anytime you were horny, you’re sure a lot of your life’s problems would be solved.
The moment they’re gone, Hongjoong leans in and quickly lets you know he’s also going upstairs to join some other acquaintances in karaoke. You’re just about to panic until Yeosang tugs on your arm to beckon for your attention.
“Going to the bathroom if you want to join,” he leans in and proposes, “I really need to pee.”
Everyone seems to have wanted to go their separate ways, but he’d never leave you alone all by your lonesome. And especially not with alcohol in your system. You grab onto his hand with a nod and let him lead you through hoards of people to the closest bathroom. Luckily, it’s empty and there’s no wait. It’s not long before you’re both locked away from the sound of music thumping from behind the door. While you search through your pockets for your lipgloss for reapplication, Yeosang jets for the toilet.
“I’m drained,” you mutter, “Being bombarded by strangers.”
“You showed up to the party looking like that and expected not to catch some eyes?”
He’s right, honestly. The red and white romper you’re wearing leaves nothing much to the imagination with the way your asscheeks are hanging out of the bottom or the way your breasts are squished together at the top. Your makeup and hair, your stockings and heels, everything just exudes pure sex appeal. All topped off with a little hat and a play syringe you’ve been using occasionally for “alcohol shots”. To be fair, your friend group mainly consisted of men, and many men found it intimidating to approach you with them always surrounding you in settings such as this. People must be feeling especially bold tonight with as much alcohol being drunk, you muse. He giggles to himself because he knows that typically you’d entertain some of the suitors for fun, but you seem devoted to the one man on your mind these days. 
“Bet you didn’t send your boyfriend a picture of your costume though, huh?” Yeosang teases, slurred words morphing into a laugh as he finally pulls down his pants. The subsequent sound of him peeing draws a laugh from you.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you scoff and nudge him in the back. He nearly loses his footing. 
“Stop, you're gonna make pee go everywhere!” How he is even still peeing with such ferocity is beyond you. This doesn’t stop him from adding in quickly, “I dare you to show him. It’s only fair, right?”
Alcohol-induced pride is something dangerous, but you’re never one to back down from a dare, even when sober. While he’s finishing up, you find your text thread with Yunho and send him the image you and Yeosang had taken together at the beginning of the party.
[Y/N: 1 image]
[Y/N: Matchingg with my besssttieee]
Coincidentally, Yunho is home and lonesomely watching YouTube videos when his phone pings. Oh wow…
He replies with several texts in a minute—one making sure to compliment you both, but the rest shamelessly thirsting over the way your costume is so lewd. Many other men may have made passes at you and offered plenty of flattery throughout the night, but none of them could make you get flustered as much as Yunho. This is the only man you care about hearing compliments from, the only man whose words matter. Maybe it’s that last bottle of soju making you so confident, but your hands move faster than your brain.
“Don’t turn around just yet,” you tell Yeosang quickly before pulling up your camera. You unzip your romper enough to pull one of your breasts out fully, squeezing it teasingly with one hand while the other takes a quick selfie. It’s a tad blurry, but it’ll do its job. After fixing yourself just as quickly, you give Yeosang the okay so he can wash his hands.
[Y/N: 1 invisible ink image]
[Y/N: Would you let me stick you???]
When he gets this notification, Yunho stares down at his throbbing cock already in his hand and laughs. He was already turned on enough by the other picture to pull it out from his sweatpants, but this? He’s usually not one to send nudes, but good God, he wants nothing more than for you to see exactly what you’re doing to him right now. Against his better judgment, he does just that.
[Yunho: 1 invisible ink image]
[Yunho: only if you let me reciprocate after]
When you uncover the picture, your breath catches in your throat: his hand is firmly wrapped around his aching, flushed cock. It looks as though he’s already been stroking himself eagerly, the way it’s glossy with lubricant and an angry shade of red. God, the things you would do to have him pick you up from this party and let you fuck him to your heart's content… Even though that could never happen, a girl can dream, so you decide you have to tell him exactly what’s on your mind. Yeosang’s too drunk to do his job of taking away your phone while you’re so many drinks deep. 
“Ready to go back?” Your best friend asks while drying his hands.
Holding your phone tight against your chest for privacy, you sputter, “Do you mind giving me a few minutes alone? I won’t be too long, promise.”
Yunho’s shocked when he sees your name come up on his phone for a call. He was beginning to get slightly nervous when you failed to respond to his attempt at sexting, but that didn’t stop him from staring at your photos and feverishly stroking his cock in the meantime.
“Hello?”
“Hello there, handsome,” you giggle, and Yunho immediately hears the intoxicated tremor laced in your words. 
“Having a fun night?” He asks with a laugh of his own, trying to refrain from breathing too heavily into the phone every time he squeezes his leaking tip with a little extra pressure. 
You’re too drunk to realize what he’s doing anyway, and you unknowingly feed into his journey toward an orgasm when you outright say, “Yes but… I want you so bad right now, Yu.”
Yunho’s breath nearly catches in his throat, and his face flushes bashfully as his hand glides faster up and down his cock.
His voice trembles a bit when he replies, “I wish I could make that happen for you, angel.”
“Well… you wanna know what I’d do if I was there?” You push further, closing your eyes and tuning out everything outside the door to focus on Yunho alone. He agrees promptly, head kicking back as he closes his eyes in the same way, tuning in solely to your voice. “Been wanting to ride you so bad lately. Keep imagining the way you’d sound when I bounce up and down in your lap… You make the prettiest noises, Yu, I swear.”
He physically swallows any of those aforementioned pretty noises trying to manifest in his throat, burying them deep in his chest before he responds with the only thing his brain can manifest.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, but…” You lower your voice to a whisper, “Do you think I could make you cum all by myself, like no help?”
Yunho is so close, he can barely hold himself together.
“I bet you could. Just seeing you feel good while using my dick would be enough to, honestly.”
The tiny drunken giggle that tumbles from your lips goes straight to his heart, “I say we test that out then.”
“Just let me know when you want to and I’ll be more than ready,” he assures you, accidentally punctuating that sentence with a soft, “ Fuck .”
“____, Jongho’s looking for us,” Yeosang calls out through the door. “They’re about to play a drinking game or something.”
For some reason, the knowledge that you’re talking so filthy like this while anyone on the other side of the door could perhaps hear you pushes him over the edge. With his phone on his chest, Yunho presses a tight hand over his mouth to suppress any noise threatening to come out, instead heavily breathing through his nostrils as spurts of cum sully his abdomen.
You sigh, “My liver is being summoned, gotta go. Bye-bye, handsome.”
The call ends before Yunho can even open his mouth to reply, but that’s fine because he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to come up with a coherent sentence anyway. He settles for dazedly texting you to let him know when you get home safely. The long and uncomfortably hot shower he takes to wash away the filth from his mind and his body leaves him feeling oddly refreshed. It might be because he hasn’t had a conversation with you not relating to the stresses of the previous weeks up until today. It’s silly that something so depraved ended up being the product, but God, does it feel fresh and exhilarating.
Now that midterm season was over and a good amount of grading had been taken off of his hands by taking on a TA, Yunho found himself with enough time on his hands to give his place a good cleaning. If he’s being completely honest with himself, he’s doing this to give himself more confidence in inviting you over again. It had been some time since he last had you there, but that was partially due to the treacherous state that it was in currently. You had been free from midterms for a week now, there were no excuses as to why he couldn’t spend private time with you in his place. The perfect opportunity arose directly after he accomplished his goal, when you mentioned in passing that you were one assignment away from being able to go out.
“How about you come do your work at my place instead?” he had offered, “I’ll order us dinner and we can relax together afterward.”
It didn’t take much convincing for you to end up on his doorstep half an hour later with your backpack slung over your shoulder. You’re so beautiful when you’re done up, there’s no denying that, but there’s something about you when you’re dressed so comfortably casual that makes Yunho get heart palpitations. When you look like that while lounging at his kitchen table, hands typing away at God knows what assignment, it just feels so domestic to him. You look like you belong there. He tries not to stare too much and gives you your space to work though, busying himself with some random medical show he pays no real mind to on Netflix while lying on his couch. Quite some time later, he hears you let out a hefty aggravated sigh. 
“Words are starting to blend together,” you murmur while rubbing your eyes. “Hate when this happens.”
“Take a break then, beautiful. Come sit with me?”
It started off innocent, it really did. 
Sitting curled up under Yunho’s arm in his lap has now entered the top ranks on your list of favorite positions to be in. It’s soothing, the way his fingers play with the frayed strings of your pants in between rubbing calming circles into your tense muscles. If you weren’t careful, you’re sure this man could lull you to sleep.
“I didn’t know you liked doctor shows,” you mumble against his chest. 
“I don’t,” he laughs, “I figured the girl who dressed up as a sexy nurse over the weekend would be interested.”
“Oh hush, you know Halloween is for foolishness.”
But, upon entering a conversation about Halloween, it leads to a conversation about your photo exchange. Yunho has been meaning to ask if he’s allowed to save that image for obvious reasons. Aside from it being sent while you were intoxicated, he also wants to be respectful about deleting it if need be. You reassure him that it’s okay for him to keep and use it whenever he likes, as you do not doubt in your mind he’d never let something like that slip from between you both. That’s when the phone call also comes up.
“Are you usually that horny when you’re intoxicated?” Yunho inquires, “Calling me up and talking like that was surprising.”
You sit up immediately, “I called you? You’re lying…”
“You don’t remember?” His brows hitch in surprise. 
“No, I don’t recall that at all,” you gaze back at him, dumbfounded, “What did I say?”
“Nothing much,” he lies, but he knows you’d never take that as an answer. Especially not when his cheeks are dusted in pink at you even asking.
“Please, tell me!” You nearly plead, “Oh God, was it embarrassing?”
“You really want to know that badly?”
The innocent nod you give him makes him give in. He remains focused on the TV to prevent himself from becoming too sheepish by looking into your eyes while recounting such words. Yunho is a bit more conservative with his words as he recalls your remarks about riding him. He’s unable to go into as much detail as you did of course, he doesn’t want to work himself up just thinking about it; moreover, he can’t even say some parts without fleeting thoughts of how he already jacked off simply to your voice telling him such things. It’s embarrassing to him how he lacks willpower when it comes to you, he’s a grown man for Christ’s sake. To be fair, you’re not much help. He doesn’t even notice how you’re toying with his sweatpants’ strings while he talks. When he finally tears his eyes from the TV and meets yours, the gaze you share has you finally moving from your spot.
Who knew Yunho’s living room couch was so comfortable on the knees? Surely not you, until yours are digging into it while you straddle his waist. It’s hard to focus on the way his lips are devouring your neck while his hands are simultaneously frisking every inch of your body he can reach. You don’t know at what point during the last minute you ended up with your joggers thrown a few feet away on the floor, or when he ended up with his sweatpants and underwear pooled around his feet. He can’t focus on anything else but the feeling of your bare cunt sliding back and forth over his cock, watching you teasingly smear your slick all over him with his mouth hung open. He can only take but so much of watching you work him up before he finally peers up into your eyes.
“God, you’re way too good at being a tease,” he sighs as he leans up to ghost his lips over yours. You can feel his little gasps every time you apply a little more of your weight on top of his painfully hard cock. He’s a patient man though, so he doesn’t mind letting you toy with him for however long your heart desires, “I’m not in a rush.”
“Maybe I’m just waiting for you to remind me how to fit it in me,” you joke, gasping as his hands busy themselves by massaging your sensitive breasts under your sports bra, “It's been a while since the last time, you know?”
The raspy laugh he lets out hits you right in your core, and even more so when he says, “You’re a very smart and capable girl, I know you can do it all by yourself.” 
The way he enunciates the last three words makes your core throb. When you finally lift your hips to wrap your hands around his length, his hands move from your breasts to your waist for support. You give him a few gentle pumps before lining him up with your sopping entrance. 
“There you go,” he encourages when you push yourself open on his tip with a needy moan.
You slide down his shaft gradually, inch by inch until you’re fully seated. The deep, shaky exhale you let out against Yunho’s neck makes him chuckle because you’re such a trooper even without any prep beforehand. 
“Give me a second.”
“Want some help?” He asks genuinely, massaging the plush of your thighs and chuckling when he feels you clench at the offer. 
He’d lay you down and take care of things himself if you wanted him to, as he’s never one to deny a pillow princess being the service dom he typically is. To his surprise, you begin moving your hips, lifting and sliding back down at a casual pace. His head kicks back and he sighs at the feeling of your warm walls swallowing him in and pushing him out, over and over. You can’t keep in the sounds of pure need and arousal that spill from your lips every time you feel his cock curve up and prod against that spot that makes your stomach do flips. When the sting from the initial stretch subsides, every glide feels breathtaking. You keep your head buried in his neck to focus on your hip movements instead, gasping and moaning in time with every sound of your ass striking his thighs.
You were right, he thinks, it had been quite some time since you both slept together that night of your first real date. Yunho’s been dreaming about that pretty cunt of yours since then—nearly daily—unable to match the feeling of the way you squeeze him with his hand, especially during the nights he works himself up enough to where he needs release. He didn’t want to seem too brazen or shamefully horny by reaching out and asking if he could show you more of what he could accomplish with that cock of his buried inside you, the sounds he wants to try and evoke. Nevertheless, he doesn’t want you to think that’s something that matters the most to him. 
Admittedly, the general nerves regarding your extracurricular activities with each other had subsided after the Halloween stint. Yunho gained a lot of confidence after that night. He previously felt guilty during midterm weeks because, even after he had expressly told you to focus on yourself, he was also so sure that there was plenty of midterm stress he could’ve helped you relieve, and vice versa. In many, many ways. Regardless, he decided to let sex with you occur naturally instead, such as last time. It was worth the wait though, if the way his teeth are sinking so deep into his bottom lip to stop himself from whimpering at this pleasure is anything to go by. 
“Fuck, mhm, just like that baby,” he hisses when you arch your back and begin rolling your hips against him, “Really gonna make me cum all by yourself, huh? Knew you were ambitious, angel.”
You feel yourself nearly gush with every word. This can’t be the same man who stands in front of you twice a week and talks about semantics, right? On the opposite end, how is he supposed to maintain any composure when the sounds of your sopping wet cunt sucking him in so easily are now battling the TV? Your arousal is so loud and it’s driving him crazy. He tends to firmly pinch at the meat of your bouncing ass and chuckle every time it elicits a helpless yelp from your throat, only to keep his antsy hands busy. Still, he makes an effort to let you do things by yourself, as you expressed.
“Yu?” you whimper into his skin a moment later, and he grunts to let you know he’s listening even if his mind is foggy with lust, “I wanna kiss you.”
Yunho’s heart nearly bursts out of his chest, cheeks flushing at how innocent the request is. His hand tenderly grabs you by the chin and leads your mouth to his while murmuring, “Stop hiding then, sweetheart.”
Time and time again, you’re reminded about how good of a kisser he is. There’s something addicting about the way he loves intertwining tongues and doesn’t care about being messy that turns you on to the highest degree. You can feel heat prickle over every inch of your skin when he pulls back your bottom lip with his teeth. When you begin to bounce faster and grow more eager to cum, Yunho’s hands finally grab underneath either cheek of your ass and begin to help you, hips rutting up in time with every quick hop of you on his cock. It doesn’t take long before his breathing becomes ragged, his own orgasm nearing, and you both break the kiss to gasp for air. Your hands grip onto his biceps when you feel your legs starting to give out from fatigue.
“I’m sorry I–”
“You can relax, sweetheart,” he pants, “Just a little more, I’ve got you.”
Yunho wraps his arms around your back, holding you steady and spreading his legs a bit farther apart before taking over and pistoning his hips into yours. The frenzied babbles of his name in his ear make his eyes roll to the ceiling. Your orgasm blindsides you entirely, hitting you right after a particularly sinful thrust directly into your G-spot. There's no time to indulge in the way you’re making some of the most euphoric sounds he’s ever heard himself pull from a woman because the feeling of your walls contracting and convulsing around his cock gives him the final push to finish himself. Right before he lets go, he lifts you off of his cock with strong arms and cum paints his t-shirt a few seconds later. 
“I say we go take a shower…” Yunho begins tentatively, reworking his thoughts after you both are breathing calmly again, “And then, we can order some food because I’m honestly starving. What do you say?”
“And where does finishing my assignment come in, hm?” You pinch his cheek.
“Ugh, you’re right…” he groans, “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time before the food is delivered, right?”
“I’m not even looking at that food until my work is done, and I mean i—” Your voice clips off when he suddenly stands to his feet with you maintained in his arms. 
“That shower isn’t going to run itself then,” he counters, lips tugging into a large smile as he happily strides towards his bedroom with you in tow.
Yunho had informed you beforehand that this next week was going to be a busy one for him, induced by training workshops the university decided to spring upon a few colleges. The Dean of his particular college thought that it was a good idea to shove all necessary sessions into the first week of November. He apologizes multiple times every time he thinks about it. You know he shouldn’t have to ever explain his business to you—he’s doing his job as a teacher, which comes first and foremost—but it’s nice that he considers you when his schedule is in conversation. You tell him time and time again that he shouldn’t concern himself with what you may or may not feel about his unavailability. He was nothing but patient with you during midterms, and you were more than happy to reciprocate that now that the time has come. 
The first day you have class with him that week, you choose to stick back while everyone else is bustling to get out of the door. It doesn’t take longer than a couple of minutes for the room to completely empty, save for you and your teacher. Normally, his eyes would light up noticing such a thing, but today he seems to be drowning in fatigue with the way his face doesn’t even budge. That doesn’t stop you from heading to his podium with tentative steps while he pulls on his blazer and packs up to continue his schedule.
“Got a minute?”
“For you? Always,” he hums without even looking up. He’s in the middle of shoving the last of his things in his briefcase when you hold up a tied-up plastic bag that catches his attention.
“I know you have a loaded day, so I brought you lunch,” you break the news before he can question it. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but you’re sure it’ll be enjoyable to eat regardless. “Just wanted to save you from having to make an extra stop across campus.”
“You’re amazing, ____,” Yunho utters in a soft voice before taking the bag from you carefully. He’s having a hard time mustering up any kind of physical joy today so he hopes that, for now, his words can at least convey what he’s failing to provide otherwise, “I know it doesn’t look like it but I really do appreciate this. Thank you.”
“You seem tense today,” you point out while moving to join him on his side of the podium. “Did something happen?”
The lecture hall’s doors don’t have any slit windows for prying eyes, so you reach up and rub a comforting hand over the back of his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs. If there’s anyone’s touch that could cure his problems, he’s sure it’s yours. Still, he doesn’t want to make himself too comfortable with the location you’re in.
“You wouldn’t believe how many things are going wrong today. I also have to meet with the head of my department for a performance evaluation based on the midterm grades. Everyone generally did very well but,” Yunho massages the bridge of his nose to help collect his thoughts before continuing, “It’s only my second semester, so the impression I’m making with these kinds of things is very important. I know I have nothing to be worried about but it’s hard not to be anxious.”
“Making yourself sick with stress isn’t going to help either,” you remind him.
“I know, I know. I’m just ready for this week to be over.”
“Maybe we should go out of town again this weekend,” you muse, hand moving to squeeze his shoulder affectionately, “I saw online some fall festivals are happening that might be fun to check out. I remember you saying you’ve never been to one.”
He peers down at you, lips splitting into his first genuine grin of the day, “She takes notes in and out of the classroom, how cute.”
“Only when it comes to you. What do you say?”
There’s a knock on the doors, but before Yunho can muster any words to answer it, the owner comes in anyway. Upon entering in a huff, Wooyoung stops dead in his tracks. His eyes flicker between the two of you before he hitches a brow. You offer him a mild-mannered smile and pull your hand away from Yunho’s shoulder slowly so as not to seem suspicious.
“Good afternoon Wooyoung,” Yunho says so naturally, though you’re groaning in your head, “Did you need something from me?”
You know it’s ridiculous of you, but you’re starting to envy Yunho’s TA. Recently, you’ve come to realize that you hate how Wooyoung gets an immense amount of time interacting with Yunho daily, but it’s still never enough. There’s always something more he needs. You get it, he’s technically an employee to make your teacher’s life easier. That’s something you should be cheering on, right? Deep down, in the most selfish part of your mind, you’re just tired of people always interrupting and interfering in the minimal amount of time you have with Yunho on campus, even unknowingly. 
“I remembered I had some questions about your grading criteria for the recent essay that I needed some clarification on before leaving,” he says, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker at you briefly, “But if you’re busy…”
“He’s not. We just finished chatting about what’s due next class,” you answer for Yunho instead, much to his dismay. He notices the tone change in your voice, but as much as he’d like to resolve that, he can only watch you grab your bag. He’s slow to catch himself frowning before fixing his face in front of his TA. While slipping past the younger gentleman to finally leave, you make sure to call out, “See you Friday, Mr. Jeong.”
It takes everything in you to not give Wooyoung the finger to the back of his head, but you decide it’s best not to let such things aggravate you. Again, Yunho is a teacher and this is part of his job. You shouldn’t be so angry at his assistant for doing what he needs to do to make his life easier.
You and your linguist do end up leaving the area again that weekend to attend a festival together. This particular town is covered in thick colorful trees that have yet to lose their leaves. Along with the overwhelming smells over different smells of various food carts and so many people laughing in enjoyment, the entire scene does a number on Yunho’s brain. It scratches a deep itch he didn’t realize he had. Playing little games with you for prizes makes him realize he hasn’t had this kind of fun in quite a long time. 
Yunho’s shocked with himself when he asks if you both can take a selfie together in front of all the colorful leaves before leaving for the day. He’s been thinking about something like this for quite some time, a bit dispirited by not being able to savor memories in pictures like everyone else can. Realistically, he knows he really shouldn’t be offering such blatant evidence of your romance to be left on either of your phones. Texts can easily be manipulated and argued, but selfies with you both in them don’t lie. These kinds of thoughts still nag at him in the back of his head even while he puts on this goofy grin, chin affectionately sitting atop your shoulder as he snaps his first photo with you ever. He wishes he could put something like this as his wallpaper. Even if he could, in a world where peeping eyes weren’t an issue, he wonders if that would be too much. Do you like the people you’re involved with to be that mushy? 
He doesn’t have the luxury of overthinking about these things for too long before you’re pinching his cheek to bring him back to reality. Reluctantly, Yunho decides to let his brain rest and focus on the rest of the time he has left with you. He’s unable to stay the night or do anything intimate that evening because of prior obligations taking up the rest of his night, but that doesn’t stop him from boldly leaning over his center console and surprising you with a slow, romantic kiss while parked right in front of your complex. He knows he should care, but he can’t find it in himself to be bothered with the risks when he just wants to show you that he appreciates you helping him relax today before he has to depart. You hear him loud and clear.
The following week, Seonghwa finds himself seeking out Yunho’s office after packing up for the day. Yunho’s thumbing at his phone’s keyboard when the courtesy knocks come and nearly scare him, but grants permission to enter. 
“I thought you’d be gone by now,” Seonghwa marvels when he finds his friend still perched in his office chair. “Your classes are usually over early on Thursdays, no?”
“I had to rework my syllabus and switch modules around because of some issues getting through lectures last week. Completely slipped my mind that I still needed to revise my lesson plans and slides for tomorrow until this morning,” Yunho sighs, “If I go home it’s definitely not getting done, so I have to stay.”
His friend surveys the ways his cheeks are slightly flushed as he glances back down at his phone briefly and tries to type something quickly. Sure, it could be from frustration or exhaustion caused by his tasks for the evening, but something seems different in the way he’s fidgeting in his chair. 
“Who’s the lucky lady?” Seonghwa inquires out of the blue, causing Yunho to lift his eyes from his phone abruptly. He offers a knowing smirk when Yunho’s brows furrowed in confusion, “You’re smiling a lot more these days— kinda glowing. Seems like you finally made it out of the dry spell and got laid.”
Yunho subconsciously tucks his phone in his lap, unconsciously confirming Seonghwa’s suspicions.
“Nobody special,” he replies, finding this white lie to be more suitable than lying outright, “Nothing much I can say.”
“Well, where’d you meet her? You don’t talk to anyone when we go out anymore so it couldn’t have been at the bar.”
Yunho hesitates for a brief moment before saying the first thing that comes to his mind, “Tinder.”
“I thought you deleted that app a while ago,” Seonghwa’s brows crease.
“I redownloaded it a while ago out of boredom,” Yunho explains quickly. He knows he’s not the best liar, but there is quite literally no way he’s going to tell his friend the truth about this situation whatsoever. Now, he almost wishes he had just fully lied at the start.
“And you can’t tell me more about a Tinder match?”
“I just–”
“I’d understand if I was San, but someone you can’t even tell me about?” Seonghwa jokes, but Yunho can tell this question is not entirely unserious. 
He understands where his friend is coming from. Their relationship runs a bit deeper than Yunho’s with the third addition to their friendship, even though all three are nearly brothers now considering the years they’ve been friends. There’s never been something that Yunho hasn’t been able to come to him about, and they’re both generally always open with anything between each other. Needless to say, Seonghwa always knows when something is off.
“It’s not like that Hwa, just that it’s nobody worth discussing,” Yunho insists, “Who knows where it’ll lead, you know? I’ll let you know if it goes anywhere.”
Seonghwa’s eyes linger on him for a few extra seconds before he simply hums in acceptance. There’s a particular look in his eyes as he sips his water bottle briefly, though.
“Alright... I’ll leave you with these words, though,” he begins, and his voice is earnest. The one he usually uses with Yunho when he needs some tough love. “You’ve worked hard to be where you’re at now. Be careful brother, okay?”
Yunho maintains a fairly neutral expression when he nods, careful to neither confirm nor deny Seonghwa’s thoughts, whatever they may be. Seonghwa is perceptive but surely he’d never pin Yunho as the type to have gotten involved with a student. At least, he hopes.
“You finished for today?” Yunho asks while Seonghwa searches for his keys in his pockets.
“Yeah, thank God.” When he finally finds his keys, he adds, “Don’t work yourself too hard and stay too late, ‘kay?”
Yunho assures him that he definitely won’t, and they both exchange goodbyes before he finally departs the room. He’s pretty sure that he should be the only teacher left on his side of the building in their office right now. He finally brings his phone out of his lap and shoots out the text he was in the process of sending before his friend entered his office.
[Yunho: are you almost done for the day?]
[Y/N: I’m walking to our lot now actually. Everything okay?]
Fuck. Yunho feels bad for summoning you like this on short notice but he can’t take it anymore. His mind has been thinking about one thing all day, and if it doesn’t get taken care of now he might go insane.
[Yunho: if you’re not too far can you come to my office..?]
[Yunho: pls]
You cease your walking, redirect yourself towards his side of campus, quickly typing back to let him know you’re on your way. You don’t get to see him that often, so you’d never deny the opportunity to make that happen. On your venture back to the building, you end up crossing paths with Seonghwa while he’s on his way to the parking lot to head home. The ambiguous glint in his eyes as you both acknowledge each other in passing doesn’t strike you as unusual, but you do take notice. 
The building is fairly empty when you enter, which isn’t surprising for the time of day. You take your time going up the elevator and striding to his office since it didn’t seem like this request was an emergency. You also figure it’s fine to enter outright since he specifically requested you to come immediately, but the door is locked upon turning the handle.
“Mr. Jeong?”
You use formalities after you knock just to be on the safe side; you’re not entirely sure who could be hanging around this late. Moreover, maybe he’s locked the door because he’s meeting with someone else briefly before you. Before you can even unlock your phone to text him and make sure he still needs you before leaving, you hear the door’s lock click open. He opens it a second later, enough for you to enter.
“Never seen you lock your door before.” You’re more preoccupied with shoving your phone in the side pocket of your bag as you enter to notice anything off. “Something happen?”
“I’m really sorry, I just didn’t want anyone else seeing me like this,” he explains quickly. 
You’re just about to ask him what he means, but Yunho doesn’t give you much of a chance to get too far before he circles his arms around your waist and swoops down to capture your lips. It’s an immensely needy kiss, one you’ve never received from him before. Unintentionally, when the aching boner in his pants brushes against you, he releases a soft groan into your mouth– Oh! The sound of him locking the door sends a chill down your back. 
You manage to pull away from him and laugh, brows furrowed in confusion, “Excuse me, have you forgotten where we are?”
“My colleagues are already gone for the day,” he reasons while walking you backward over to his desk. His face is flushed as he implores, “I need you to do me a favor, okay?”
“Of course,” you nod quickly, gazing up at him with expectant eyes. Why does he look so…desperate?
This moment doesn’t feel entirely real. You’re becoming increasingly wet just thinking about the things you could do now that you two were alone in his office if what he says is true. You’ve both exchanged plenty of fleeting, amicable touches when out in public, ones that not many would think twice about, but you’ve never tried something like this when you’re still on campus. Yunho fails to finish his request, too captivated with peppering your neck in wet open-mouthed kisses while he physically coaxes you to sit on his desk. You have on a skirt today, and he’s so thankful not to have to deal with the extra work of pulling off jeans.
“What do you want me to do, Yu? I’ll do anything,” you insist and wrap your arms around his neck, beckoning for his attention, “Just tell me.” 
When he stares directly into your eyes, trying to gain enough courage to speak, you reiterate once more that he can ask you for anything.
“I want you to let me go down on you,” he finally spits out before sitting back into the chair you usually sit in when visiting. 
“But… Right now? Here?”
“If you’re comfortable,” he adds.
It takes a few seconds for the words to fully sink in, and you hesitate briefly before lifting your skirt against your stomach and begin lying back. Yunho scoots his chair forward with an immense amount of anticipation building in his chest; he wasn’t sure earlier if this would take more convincing, but he’s grateful it didn’t.
“That’s really all?” Your brows crease while propping yourself up on your elbows to gaze down at him inquisitively. 
Your confusion makes him chuckle. For someone so good with words any other time, he surely has some trouble expressing himself well when it comes to you most times. Today, though, he decides to let his desires spill freely. He gets ahead of himself and licks a warm strip up your panties, briefly tasting the arousal that’s creating such a big wet spot in the seat of the garment.
“I don’t think you understand ____,” Yunho begins, voice low as he pulls your panties down your legs. The rise and fall of his chest quickens with excitement once you’re bare and spread open by his hands. “Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about doing this again for the longest time.”
“Eating my pussy?” He nods hastily, pressing searing kisses onto the insides of your thighs. “Why didn’t you just ask?”
He sighs when you run your hand through his hair, coy eyes gazing up at you from between your thighs, “I didn’t want to be too forward about it. How do I properly beg you to suffocate me?” 
“Just like that,” you laugh, but that’s cut abruptly by him roughly yanking you by your thighs closer to his face. As much as he’d love to entertain the rest of this conversation, he’s too impatient when you’re laid out in front of him like this, all wet and ready for his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks another long stripe upward, the initial taste making him sigh. The breathy moan you let fly at the brief contact makes his dick twitch in his pants.
“Been touching myself to the thought of these thighs around my head,” he admits, repeating the action but putting a little extra attention on your clit, “I was so hard today that I couldn't even stand up during my last lecture. You did that.” 
You would crack a teasing joke about Wooyoung having to do his job for him, but any words lingering in your head are stolen the moment Yunho buries his face in your cunt, nose prodding at your clit. He licks and laps messily at your heat like some famished gentlemen consuming a meal for the first time in days. The obscenities that spill from your lips amongst cute, helpless whines only make him nod his head. He wants you to learn—good and well—that this is something he’s self-admittedly very talented at and always ready to do if you ever find it within yourself to ask him. If you didn’t learn that the first time he briefly ate you out, you sure were going to learn now. Yunho’s tongue finds itself buried as far as he can manage in your hole, pushing in and out and savoring the way you taste. 
Your hands fly to your mouth because, even if Yunho is sure that you both are alone, you still don’t want the sound of you falling apart on his tongue seeping through the door with the way you’re progressively getting louder. He doesn’t mind you suppressing yourself, he’s set on filling the silence himself. The sounds of him slurping and sucking and kissing are so loud when bouncing against the walls of his small office.
“I love the taste of you,” he groans against your heat, sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt. You gasp and go to close your legs, to move away instinctively, but Yunho is too quick. His fingertips dig deep into the meat of your thighs as he makes an effort to keep them open, refusing to let you squirm away. “Let me finish this time,” he says, voice stern and brows furrowed.
God, that commanding voice he rarely uses could make you cum on the spot. Embarrassment flushes your face when you feel a new wave of arousal from those words gush and drip down your skin. He’s not going to let any of that go to waste though, sparing no time getting back to his ministrations. You don’t even realize that after a while you’ve begun to grind yourself against his face. He feels like he’s in heaven, his hands pulling and encouraging your hips forward as if silently saying yeah, keep going, just like that.
When he feels your legs become more tense, he decides to thrust two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt and latch his mouth onto your clit, set on abusing that spot inside of you that will finally give him exactly what he wants. He ignores the ache in his jaw because every yelp and whimper spilling from your lips spurs his endurance until he finally hears his favorite words.
“Y-Yu, m’gonna cum,” you sputter before he feels your thighs close in over his head. He doesn’t mind this time, this is right where he wants to be when you tip over anyway. 
Yunho lets out one last groan of his own onto your clit before he feels your legs go rigid, a signal he knows well now. Your back arches off the desk and he indulges in the feeling of you bucking against his face. He swallows everything you have to give him, mouth open and jaw slack as you tremble through your orgasm. It takes you what feels like forever to let go of his head, not like he’s complaining. When your legs go limp, Yunho slumps back in the chair with a huff. He’d get lock-jaw multiple times a week eating you out if you let him. He supposes this is something he should suggest eventually.
“You’re so hot, it’s unbelievable,” he heaves, staring at the mess he’s made of your cunt. There’s slick and cum and spit and everything in between ruining his desk, but he can’t find it in himself to care about the cleanup right now. When you’re finally able to sit up and breathe properly, he grins at you with that messy mouth of his, “Thank you, seriously.”
“Let me give you head too,” you offer eagerly, though you’re not even sure your knees are strong enough for that right now. To your surprise, Yunho shakes his head. “Please, I want to reciprocate!”
“You don’t have to,” he replies instead, finally fully gaining his breath back. The pout prominent on your face could make him melt into a puddle, he feels so bad but…
“But you deserve to cum too—”
“I… did already, ____,” he divulges and bashfully covers his face before you can see his cheeks flush with heat. You slowly glance down at his crotch and your eyes go wide. Yunho has indeed cum completely untouched, right inside his pants, as evident from the large wet spot soaking through his brown slacks.
A man who loves eating pussy so much he gets off just from your pleasure…
You push his arm away from his face and pull him in by his cheeks for an endearing kiss, one that you hope shows your appreciation and adoration. 
“I’ll take care of you another day,” you promise him against his lips upon breaking. Regardless of the embarrassment coursing through him at the moment, he nods in acceptance. Anxiously walking to his car with his briefcase pressed firmly against his crotch to hide the aftermath of committing various sins in his office after finishing his work for the day is not something he ever expected to do, but somehow it still feels gratifying all the same.
It’s around this week that Yunho begins to sit down and seriously start examining his feelings. A quiet night in his home where he’s alone leads him to decide to sort out the swarm of thoughts he’s been accumulating in his mind for the last couple of weeks.
There’s no doubt in his mind that you both share a connection he’s never experienced with another woman before. When this all first began, although he explicitly let you know that he genuinely likes you, he initially wondered if maybe that was coming from being so attention and touch-deprived for some time. That maybe he was latching onto something because you filled a void, a subconscious selfish attachment to you to satisfy the things he lacked. None of that ended up being true, not even close. You both had spent a considerable amount of time exploring this thing… he supposes that’s where the dilemma comes in. What is this “thing”? He knows things are complicated considering the circumstances; but, are you both technically dating, just without the official title until that resolves itself? You hadn’t necessarily made that clear. What if you found someone closer to your age who made you feel the same way as he did within that time? Someone who you could be normal with and not have to sneak around or hide to enjoy. 
This is where his selfishness comes in.
He thinks about how he would indeed be jealous and perturbed if he even saw you with another man like that, even if it makes your life easier. He doesn’t want to even think about you giving another man the same heart palpitations or sweaty hands he gets when he’s around you. He doesn’t want anyone else on that campus to know what it feels like to kiss you. He doesn’t want anyone else to know how good and fulfilling it feels to be the object of your desires. It’s been nearly three months of dates, spending time together, and learning the ins and outs of each other (in all five senses and beyond). How could he not feel infuriated if that were to happen? 
That’s when it clicks for Yunho: he’s fucking in love with you. The moment this loud thought crosses his mind, Yunho’s chest tightens in fear. The last time he thought he felt this way about a woman, she hurt him in a way that took him some lengthy time to heal from. And, as he always has to remind himself, you are not just some woman. You’re also his student. This isn’t as simple as unmatching someone on Tinder because things didn’t work out, or blocking someone after a heartbreak. Though, the more he thinks about that word — student — the more he realizes it doesn’t matter anymore. You are much more than that. And soon enough, that word would no longer be in your vocabulary anyway. The only thing he cares about now is that you end up his officially at the end of the day. He was going to do whatever he could to make the rest of your semester smooth and stress-free, so you both could be happy together when it’s over. 
And, as if you know you’re being thought of, Yunho’s phone buzzes with a text from you asking if he’s asleep. He debates with himself about whether he should bite the bullet and ask if you can both talk about things in the near future, but he ultimately decides against it. For now, he’ll indulge in the way you call his phone before he can even type a response and tell him that you want to fall asleep to his voice.
Some days later, you find yourself knocking on Yunho’s office door in the early afternoon. Unlike some people, you wait until he answers with a confirmation to enter. 
“Good afternoon,” he beams after realizing it’s you, wiping his hands clean with a napkin.
“Ah, I’m just in time,” you chirp with clasped hands when you spot his empty tupperware. “I was worried I was going to interrupt your eating.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered anyways, pretty. You’ve seen me eat many times.”
“You deserve to eat in peace at least once a day like everyone else,” you reason while sitting down across from him as usual, “I sprung this meeting on you last minute anyway.”
“Speaking of which, I’m still quite confused about why you wanted to come here for this,” he replies while spinning his chair from side to side, “I told you my home is always open for you, especially for things like this.”
“This” being discussing your final paper. The same thing that put you right into his lap in the first place.
“Just felt a little nostalgic I guess,” you grin, adding in a quieter voice, “And maybe a little jealous too.”
His brows furrow, “Jealous?”
His confusion is expected, as you’re sure he hasn’t paid attention to much of the interruptions you’ve experienced while with him the last few weeks on campus. It’s not simply Wooyoung either, but everyone who gets his attention on campus when you have to stay away for one reason or another. The way other women on campus look at him or speak to him, unaware that he’s already devoting his attention to you. It eats at you a bit sometimes. 
Yunho may be greedy but you’re much greedier, as if that wasn’t evident enough by the things you did to attract him in the first place. Even then, he’s never failed to oblige any of your requests, whether that be with his endearment, his time, or his… assets. He deserves everything in the world, and you can’t wait to give that to him when the time arrives. For now, you’ll behave to the best of your abilities.
“Don’t mind me, I’m just rambling,” you deflect, “Seeing you in your element is just nice, that’s all.”
Yunho’s curious about what’s going on in your mind but he decides not to pursue further answers. 
“So, what do I have the pleasure of helping you with today?” 
The apples of his cheeks are even more prominent today as he smiles while asking this. You know he loves his job, but you’re sure he doesn’t get this much glee during office hours with anyone else. 
“Last session at your house we talked about my analysis section and I remember you telling me that I was overthinking, but I’m still second-guessing myself on some of my points. I guess I just need to run some things by you to be one hundred percent sure I’m in a good direction.”
“You’re almost as bad as me,” he declares. As the self-proclaimed King of Overthinking, he’s the only person allowed to say such a thing to you. Still, it makes you pout.
“To be fair, we both know this is not my best subject, so this final might be more important to me than any of my others,” you confess. This is partially true; a small part of you wants to impress your handsome linguist by showing him a final product worth reading. 
“You know I’d take care of things regardless, right? You don’t have to stress about that.”
“I appreciate that, but I want to earn this grade genuinely,” you clarify. He lets you know he understands, but you want some extra reassurance when you say, “Promise me you’ll grade me genuinely, okay?”
“I get it. I promise pretty lady,” he guarantees you with a soft, affectionate smile. “I know I tell you all the time in the most inappropriate scenarios… but I mean it when I say you’re a smart woman. I know you’ll do fine.”
If he could see you right now, Yeosang would surely be laughing at you for being such a lover-girl and telling you that you’re an absolute idiot for passing up an automatic A+ on your final, but you never genuinely pursued Yunho for that kind of leverage anyway, regardless of the initial jokes. This was something you genuinely hoped Yunho was aware of when it came to communicating your feelings. 
As always, he takes all the time you need to help you with a list of things you want a second opinion on, sources you want to make sure are up to par, and everything in between. He thinks it’s cute when you pull out your little checklist named “Things To Ask Yu”, and diligently check each off as they’re completed.
A relieved sigh leaves your lips the moment you check off the final thing on the list. You both meet eyes for a brief moment, and the look donning his face is something oozing with pure adoration. You hold his gaze for what feels like forever before glancing at your watch. You’re making good time, it’s been almost an hour.
“When you look at me like that, it makes me want to throw away all my responsibilities and stay here all day,” you mumble.
He lets out an airy chuckle, “Am I keeping you from anything in particular?”
“I do have a class in about half an hour.”
He stretches his arms over his head with a grunt, “Sounds like we should end things for the day and meet here again in a couple of days then, Miss Nostalgia.”
“Well…” You trail off as you stand to your feet and make your way to the office door. 
Yunho watches your fingers lock his door before you stroll back over to his side of the desk. Something stirs in his gut as he looks up into your eyes when you finally reach him, calculating the way you gaze back at him playfully. The small mischievous smirk playing on your lips… God, he just knows he’s in trouble. He turns his attention toward his laptop when you sit yourself on top of his desk right beside him.
“Well?”
“Remember how I said I would take care of you at another time?” The feeling of the edge of his desk sinking into your thighs elicits a soft sigh while you recount that day, as if him eating you out like a Christmas dinner wasn’t already ingrained into your mind. “This seems like a moment where that would be fitting.”
“Do you remember where we are?” He mimics your statement the last time you were both intimate in his office, in the same cadence and everything. His fingers delicately click at his mouse as he tries to think of anything else other than your thighs peeking out of that pleated skirt you’re wearing, directly next to his hand.
“If I remember correctly, that didn’t matter last time…”
“The circumstances were very different,” he immediately counters. 
It’s true, to an extent; the timing was more on par for solitude. Regardless, he knows he sounds like the biggest hypocrite at the moment, even more evident by the roll of your eyes he catches out of the corner of his. He leans back in his chair and runs his hands through his hair. Sometimes he wishes he was more adventurous, less concerned about the consequences, and more accepting of the thrill of things. When he’s thinking of these things, it’s not even for his sake, but yours. He can’t handle the thought of you losing your degree due to his selfishness. And yet, he can’t help the arousal building from those thoughts about your mischievous side. You’re able to pull that side out of him so easily.
“And yet, you’re hard,” you say quietly when your eyes fall to his ever-so-inviting lap, a blithe little chuckle following. Subconsciously, he covers himself over his slacks. “Are you scared of getting caught even with the door locked?”
“____, it's 2 PM and we're in my office with many people passing by every minute. Not to mention my other students who could request me at literally any time,” he explains with a flustered smile, “This is immensely risky, you know that very well.”
“But–”
“You also know very well I’m extremely bad at being that quiet with you,” he interrupts your attempt to plead your case. Only then does he roll his head to the side and give you this look with low hooded eyes that finally make you glance away. His sentiments make goosebumps lace your skin because— fuck —yes you know he didn’t like being quiet. That was honestly an understatement. The heaving, moaning, and endless praise were only the start of what you could pull from the man during your escapades. 
You ponder for a brief moment, contemplating just letting it go, but end up pursing your lips and resorting to those famous eyes you give Yeosang when you want something unattainable.
“Please Yu, just let me give you a good blowjob. It'll be quick and quiet, I promise.”
He just can’t say no when you look at him like that, so he sighs, “I guess…”
“I also have an idea.”
Yunho is not sure what he initially expected when those words came out of your mouth, but surely it didn’t include the way your hands slip under your skirt and tug your panties down your legs. He’s sure his entire face is a deep shade of scarlet when you hold them out for him. It doesn’t help that they're visibly wet. 
“Maybe this can help you stay quiet, you know?” You suggest this while motioning to your face. He understands, of course, but he feels like this will just make things worse. So much worse. It’s confirmed when he feels his pants tighten from merely holding them in his hands. Still, he agrees and nervously pushes his chair back. After sinking under the desk, Yunho pulls his chair forward with enough room for you to sit on your knees comfortably. At least there was no way you would be seen if something strange were to arise.
Undoing his belt is one of your favorite parts, the anticipation visible in his ansty hands when he doesn’t know where to put them while you work it off. Your fingers tug lightly at his pants zipper before you dip your fingers past the hem of his waistband and pull them down quietly. He makes sure to lift his hips a little for you to slip them past just enough. You take one glance at his slightly flustered face before you pull his length from out the hole of his boxer briefs. It’s so hard that it hurts, leaking a copious amount of precum and making quite a mess.
“There are people outside the door,” he voices his nerves again at the last minute, peering at the shadows of feet passing the door, and then back down at you. 
“Didn’t know you had such an exhibitionist kink then,” you poke fun at him in a whisper, noticing how much he’s twitching once the words leave his lips. A teasing laugh slips from your lips and he groans in frustration, his empty hand moving to cock to stroke himself lazily.
“I do not have an exhibitionist kink,” Yunho snaps back with a huff. His cheeks are so flushed with chagrin, and it amuses you because if he really was that scared, he’d simply tell you no. He’d turn you away with that stern voice he rarely uses and suggest a different place and time. But Yunho wants this as much as you want it, despite what his mouth may say in the meantime.
“Ready?” You remove his hand and let a long string of saliva fall from your tongue onto his tip, just enough for lubrication. Then, you place your hands around his shaft and start stroking him yourself, mixing the spit with his dribble of precum. “You seem pretty turned on by the idea of being caught, Yu.”
The endless string of soft gasps and strangled noises of air coming from him as you work your hands on him just the way he likes is enough to drive your pride up the wall. There was always something different about how you touched him that he’d never be able to fulfill himself. He’s indubitably addicted to you.
"Shit, ___–”
“Shhhh. Unless you’d prefer to get caught?” You quirk a brow curiously as you increase pressure on him so he can’t supply an answer. Instead, he kicks his head back and lets out a soft, satisfied moan that sounds similar to your name. You follow that with a tsk! and shake your head disapprovingly. “My mouth hasn’t even touched you and you’re already a mess.”
He lowers his eyes to meet yours with a pointed glare and a chill runs down your spine, “Taking your sweet time is not helping.”
You go to taunt him again but can't even finish the first word before his free hand rakes through your hair and pushes your open mouth down on his cock instead. Yunho twitches and throbs under you with a low, constricted grunt while you clutch his thighs with your nails. He’s in love with the way you look up at him so innocently, your plush lips wrapped around his length and tears prodding the corners of your eyes at the sudden intrusion. It amazes him how you’re still able to smile, eyes half-lidded as if he had just blessed your mouth.
“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself… Can I?” He sighs out, implying letting him use your mouth as he sees fit. 
The hum you release around his length and the way you relax your jaw confirm his request. Yunho holds you gently on either side of your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks tenderly before guiding you up and down his cock at a leisurely speed. Occasionally, he accidentally prods at the back of your throat and elicits a choked moan. He whispers his apologies each time even though he has nothing to be sorry about, but it’s just a habit. He winds his hand in your hair and pulls his cock out a bit to focus your mouth on his tip, bucking his hips in short, hasty thrusts and reveling in the way it draws sloppy noises from your mouth while you seal your lips around his tip to keep from making things too messy. The panties pressed to his face with his other hand aren’t doing much to repress those grunts that come from deep within his chest.
“Feels so good,” he pants softly from under the fabric, lips fixing to whimper, “Am I going too fast?”
You moan around his length once more, shaking your head and blinking away any remaining dampness from your lashes.
“If it’s ever too much, tell me to stop and I'll stop,” he insists affectionately, but those dark brown eyes are fixated on yours with blown-out irises and deep carnal cravings. 
He can’t expect you to ever want him to stop when he looks like that, right? Of course not. You take everything he gives you like the good girl he already knows you are, the sounds of your squelchy throat filling the silence and bouncing off the walls of his office. As much as you try to keep things clean, you can’t help the flood of saliva dripping onto his underwear the faster he fucks into your mouth. You can tell his orgasm is growing closer and closer by the way his thighs start trembling. 
And even though Yunho thinks he hears a sound closer to his office door than his comfort would allow, he continues his pace. Your eyes are closed, focused solely on breathing, so you aren’t aware of the way his attention is elsewhere. His eyes stayed trained on the silhouette of feet at the bottom of the door’s threshold, and there’s a fleeting thought of whether he should stop. That thought is overwritten with pure lust, spurred on by the way you reach up and begin to massage his balls the best you can from your position. Yunho bites down on your panties, muffling the whine bubbling from his chest. A moment later, your panties fall from his mouth and his hips lose all rhythm.
“Fuck ____– cumming,” he groans a little too loudly, but his head is somewhere deep in outer space, brain screaming at him for release, “Where?”
You open your mouth just the slightest bit wider to emphasize that you want him to cum down your throat. Yunho halts his hips altogether and you feel his cock throb in your mouth as he finally releases everything he has to offer. He’s no longer concerned with who may or may not be lurking at the door; the only thing he can focus on is the way you lock eyes with him while swallowing his essence and sucking him clean after the fact. Nothing else matters at this moment but you.
Friday’s class ends earlier than normal when Yunho gets through his lecture for the period faster than expected. 
“I need you to help me dye my hair soon if you have some time,” Yeosang says the moment people begin to stand and leave. You glance over to find him grimacing while looking into the camera of his phone, “I think I need to go back to pink or something, the brown is just not doing it for me.”
“I knew it wouldn’t last long,” you snort while filling up your backpack, “You’re just not used to having natural colors anymore.”
“I can’t even argue with that, my love.”
You ruffle a hand through his tresses before he finally stands to his feet, and you follow suit. Then, you toss a couple of things around in your mind about your schedule as you both walk down the lecture hall stairs before suggesting, “Actually, you could come over tonight if you already have the supplies.”
“Fuck, you’re the best. I’ll bring dinner too?”
Before you can even answer, a voice calls your name and steals your attention. Surprisingly, it’s Wooyoung of all people approaching you both. You can’t even hide the disinterest you feel in acknowledging him, it’s written all over your face. 
“Do you mind if I speak with you privately for a moment?” he inquires, motioning towards his chair.
Yeosang meets your eyes inquisitively before stepping away and telling you he’ll meet up with you later. The class has emptied when you both venture over to Wooyoung’s seat, and he begins searching through his bag for something in particular.
“Is there an issue with something I submitted?”
“Not necessarily,” he replies. “I suppose I just want some insight.”
He pulls out the notebook he uses for tracking grades in this class and places it on the table. People always find it a bit weird that he prefers to do things by hand first before electronically and, sure it might be more work than necessary, but he prefers to have both methods.
“I’m a pretty meticulous person, ____. I noticed that there’s a discrepancy in the grades for last week’s short essay assignment,” Wooyoung begins in a honeyed voice, “Though, the only discrepancy was on yours.”
“I’m not sure why you’re coming to me about this when Mr. Jeong handles things like this,” you respond indifferently. “I would ask him about the mistake.”
Wooyoung smiles and leans forward on his elbows, “That’s the funny thing, I did. He told me that he had made the change himself and not to worry about it. No other explanations.”
“Well again, he’s the teacher, so it sounds pretty open and shut then.”
“It’s never that simple, ____. I looked back and noticed this has happened a few times throughout the last month, actually.”
“If you’re just going to keep badgering me about grade changes I have nothing to do with then I’m gonna end this conversation here.” To be honest with yourself, there’s a part of you deep down that’s cursing profusely at Yunho for messing with your grades, and so openly at that. This is something you had explicitly made clear you didn’t need or want, but he had done it anyway. This is something you would have to chastise him about later in a very serious conversation. That’s the only concern on your mind as you start taking steps toward the doors and wave with a flick of your wrist, “Anyways, I’ve gotta go. I have other obligations for the day.”
“You mean like sucking off your teacher again?”
You cease all movement and turn back towards him, “Excuse me?”
“Sorry, that came out a little blunt, didn’t it?” He holds his hands up in remission. “It’s just not hard to put two and two together when your ear is pressed to a door and all you hear is choking, you know?”
“I have no clue what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’m offended you think I’d need that to pass a class anyway,” you reply indignantly. Still, there’s this slight feeling of panic pooling in your stomach.
Wooyoung gives you a knowing look, “You’re going to play stupid, really?”
“Look, I really don’t have the time for this—”
“I suppose we could ask the Dean what she thinks about things then? He said your name quite a few times, luckily,” Wooyoung interrupts you and suggests instead. His eyes flicker down to his phone and a pure look of fear at the thought that he possibly has a recording of you and Yunho’s depravity slates your face. “Oh, that got your attention.”
His laugh that follows that statement hits you right in your gut.
“My God, you’re an absolute asshole,” you seethe, but stop yourself before you can say anything worse. You’re well aware that being mean won’t get you on his good side. Instead, you calm yourself and rub your temples before asking, “What do you want to keep quiet, money? I don’t have much to offer but I can figure something out.”
“Listen, ____,” he says as he leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together, “I have a simple proposition that could make all of this just disappear.”
“Spit it out already then.”
“I want you to pretend we’re together for a little bit, publicly. Just enough time to make my ex want me back. Then, we can call it quits and go about our lives as if none of this happened.”
You can’t help the scoff that comes out of you, “You want me to fake date you to make your ex jealous, or else you’re going to essentially ruin my life. Is that what I’m hearing?”
“When you say it like that, it makes it sound evil,” Wooyoung points out with a hefty sigh. He slumps in his seat, “I’m not an evil guy, I would just like some help. That’s all. And you’re just not really in a position to say no, unlike others I’ve asked.”
“There’s a reason why those people said no, obviously,” you retort bitterly. He lets your sharp words roll off his back and simply smiles; there’s nothing you could say that would help your position and he knows this. It’s mid-November and graduation is in approximately a month. Surely it shouldn’t take that long for this plan of Wooyoung’s to finish, he knows this. The thought of it going on longer than necessary makes you feel physically ill though. Not to mention what Yunho would think about you having to interact with Wooyoung intimately.
“I want to make something clear as well,” he begins as if he’s forgotten this himself, “You cannot tell any of this to Mr. Jeong either. I don’t want my money for my assistant position to be compromised, obviously.”
Your brain begins to short-circuit at the thought of having to date Wooyoung openly without Yunho being aware it’s fake. The logistics in itself would cause you immense stress that you surely don’t need while closing out the end of your semester. You should very well be focusing on graduating and nothing more. Nonetheless, the last thing you want is for Yunho to lose his job because you couldn’t keep your mouth to yourself when he was already concerned about being caught that day. You don’t even care about the consequences for yourself, you’d feel immense guilt forever for ruining Yunho’s career and reputation. But, if Yunho heard that you were dating his TA, he’d surely break things off with you anyway. That thought scared you even more.
“So, would you like to exchange numbers?”
Halting your panic-stricken daze is Wooyoung’s hand surrendering his phone to you, a blank contact screen ever-so-inviting. You feel defeated, and you know this is going to end up turning out poorly, but you just can’t risk Yunho losing his job over you. When your anxious fingers snatch his phone and begin typing your information, Wooyoung sighs in contentment.
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♡ taglist: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr @txt-yaomi @thisisntmyrightera @oreoqueen @jadeneliz @atinism @uarmytess @nopension @aaaaajonghooooo @tmtxtf @ateezallday @bloomyroses @shingene @likexaxdaydream @innsomniacshinestar @st4rhwa @eixila @sunflower-png @jadeneliz @witchlaughwoo @ashlurrr @justthattheatregirl @bts-army380
I apologize if I missed anyone! Thank you for reading ◡̈
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yumeka-sxf · 4 months
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So much happened in today's new chapter! Anya got both a stella AND a tonitrus, we find out just how exceptional she is at classical language to the point of ranking second and Twilight actually questions her about it, more Desmond backstory along with...
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...his first apperanace!
After being shrouded in mystery all this time, we finally get to see Demetrius. Of course, like the other Desmonds, he brings up more questions than answers. What exactly is his relationship with his dad, if it's not how Damian imagined it was? And why were his thoughts so...odd? I was especially weirded out when Anya couldn't read his mind at first.
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It could have been that she was too far away, but I feel it has something to do with the way he thinks...like, maybe he trained his mind to the point where he's not continuously thinking things like most people and his thoughts come in quick spurts only. Could it be something that Donovan instilled in him from a young age?
I loved how Anya's reaction to getting a stella and getting a tonitrus were only slightly different 😅 More darker lines and sweat for the tonitrus.
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Anya had some great faces in this chapter, (as did Twilight), but I think my favorite was this one!
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I was also happy to see some soft Twilight moments. Not only did he congratulate Anya on her stella while not harping on her tonitrus, he even gave her a head pat, something we haven't seen in a long time.
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Something else we haven't seen in a long time: drunk Yor! (at least at home). Did she spend all night on the couch or did she eventually make it back to her room with Loid's help?
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When Twilight questions Anya about why she might be so good at classical languages, she says she doesn't know, which makes sense. Most kids don't remember much before Anya's age. So even after all this, and even though it's clear just how good Anya is at classical languages, we're still not closer to knowing why!
Meanwhile, still nothing suspicious about the Authens.
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But now that Demetrius is officially in the mix too, they're not the only new and mysterious characters we have to keep tabs on now!
Also Anya trying to channel Desmond energy at the end, lol. Trust me girl, you don't want to have minds like theirs!
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It seems like this mini arc is over, at least the part about the exam results. I wonder if we'll keep learning more about Demetrius and the classical language thing, or if that's all we're getting for a while. Either way, I'm excited!
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wraithlafitte · 3 months
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you're no femme fatale
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pairing: dean winchester x f!reader
CONTENT: use of y/n, dubcon (mission sequence), soft dom!reader, guided masturbation, light degradation (m!receiving), stripping, begging, scratching, hair pulling, handjob, exhibitionism if you squint
word count: 3.3k
a/n: anon request here! enjoy 🖤 honestly felt like i was scraping the bottom of the barrel to keep this interesting LOL hope it's what you wanted
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"No. No way in hell I'm doing that," you said, throwing up your hands and backing away from the table, littered with piles of Sam's research.
"Aw, come on, Y/N," Sam protested. "You're the only one of us that could do it."
"I am not entertaining some dirty old man for this," you snapped, snatching up a museum scan of the artifact you were supposed to steal. "We'll find another way."
"If there was another way, I'd be asking you to do that," Sam said, furrowing his brow. "This is the path of least resistance. You get in his office, slip it into your dress while he's not looking, and we'll come get you after ten minutes. That's it."
You huffed a sigh and crossed your arms.
Just then, Dean returned from his fast food run, greasy paper bags in hand. "Hey, nerds," he greeted impishly. "Grub's on."
You rolled your eyes as he plopped the bags right in the middle of Sam's papers.
"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Dean asked, settling himself into a chair and unwrapping a double cheeseburger.
"You would know if you had stayed to help make it," you replied annoyedly.
Dean flicked his eyebrows. "No need to get testy."
Sam sighed, deciding to intervene before things got ugly. You and Dean weren't exactly known for getting along, tolerating each other just enough to get jobs done when you had to. This was mostly due to the fact that you thought Dean was a douchebag, and he just dished back whatever you threw at him.
"The best plan we've got so far is that Y/N seduces the guy," Sam explained.
Dean snorted, almost spitting out his too-large bite of burger. "I'm sorry what?"
"I figure we'll never be able to get in there during the event, since it'll be so locked down," Sam continued. "Our best bet is getting him to let one of us in."
"Have you seen her?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and giving you a once-over. "Not exactly the seducing type."
You looked down at your current outfit. Cargo pants and a mens t-shirt topped with a utility vest and a leather bomber jacket. He had a point, although not for the reasons he thought. You could dress up, you just chose to dress practically. More pockets for knives. No, you just weren't sure you'd be able to convince the man you wanted him. Seventy-something sleazebags weren't exactly high on your to-fuck list.
"For once, I agree with Dean." You tossed the photo back onto the table. "Can we think of something else, please?"
"Yeah, as much as I'd like to see her try and pretty up to get in some old dude's pants, there's gotta be a more surefire way," Dean said with his mouth full. "Cuz you're no femme fatale," he added pointedly.
You were getting a little annoyed at his jabs. "You don't think I can do it?" you asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes.
"Sister, I don't think you could seduce a virgin," Dean scoffed.
You turned to Sam, bristling. "That's it then. I'll do it."
"What?" Dean said loudly through his half-chewed bite.
Sam looked at you with concern. "Are you sure? Just because Dean-"
"I'm sure." You set your jaw confidently. "Let's go to the charity event."
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"We're heading out to the car," Sam called through the bathroom door, where you were putting on the finishing touches to your makeup.
"Be right there," you called back, surveying yourself in the mirror. Not bad, you thought, considering the last time you put on this much makeup was prom night. You had tried to go for something an old man would like: a classic red lip and smoky eye that paired pretty well with the vintage-looking slinky black satin dress you'd found at the thrift store around the corner. It went down to your ankles, showing off your heels, and had a long slit that made its way up your leg to your hip.
You threw your coat on and hurried out the door, hopping into the backseat of the Impala. Sam glanced at you in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrows appreciatively, but Dean didn't spare you a second glance. You were annoyed, since half the reason you were doing this was to prove him wrong, but there would be plenty of time to show off later.
As the Impala peeled out of the hotel parking lot, you took a deep swig from the flask you kept in your coat pocket. This better work.
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Neither of the boys helped you out of the car when you arrived.
"Chivalry is dead," you announced after almost stumbling onto your face getting out. You tossed your coat back into the backseat, revealing your outfit to the two hunters.
Suddenly Sam was all-too-eager to offer you his arm, and the two of you headed inside, Dean close behind. You hadn't missed the way his eyes widened when you dropped your coat, so you swung your hips a little as you walked. That'll show him.
The plan worked better than you could have hoped. The sleazy old something-inaire led you to his office, hand wrapped around your waist as you clung to his arm, pretending to laugh at his stupid sexist old man jokes.
As he clicked the heavy oak door shut, you quickly scanned the room, trying to find the artifact you came for. There. On his desk. All you had to do was grab it, and-
The old man grabbed you by the hips, pulling you flush against his body. "Where were we, sweetheart?"
Insides roiling with disgust, you turned around and placed your hands on his chest, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. "Right here," you said cattily, batting your eyelashes as you grabbed him by the lapels and led him backwards to the desk.
Here goes nothing, you thought, and pulled the old guy in for a kiss. Trying to ignore the way his tongue dug into your mouth, you felt around behind you for the artifact.
Got it. You quickly palmed the object and broke the kiss, looking up at the old man through your lashes. Now Sam or Dean was gonna bust down the door, claiming you as his missing drunk sister.
Aaaaany minute now.
The old man smiled wolfishly and you felt his hands creeping lower, lower, until he grabbed your ass firmly, jerking you closer to him and capturing your lips again.
Your heart hammered in your chest. This was not going how it was supposed to. You tried to wiggle away, but the guy was surprisingly strong for his age.
"Where you going, baby?" he asked, eyes glinting.
"I think I- I have to go," you said, aware that you were sounding a little panicked.
"You wanted this," he reminded you, giving your ass a tight squeeze. He swung you around and pushed you into the leather couch across from the desk. You tried to scramble up, but it was hard with your tight dress and the artifact still clutched in your hand, desperately being concealed, so the old man grabbed you easily by the hair, forcing you to stay down.
"Now why don't we put those pretty lips to use?"
The door swung open with a bang. The old man looked up, startled, releasing his death grip on your hair.
"There you are," came the fake-laughing voice of Dean.
"Who are you?" demanded the old man. "Get out of here!"
"Sorry man, this is my sister," Dean said, raising his hands apologetically. "She gets really hammered, acts like a slut. Gotta get her home." He helped you up, and you smiled and giggled, putting on the drunk-girl act.
Dean helped you hurry out of the room, the old man looking disappointed and angry at being cockblocked.
"Thanks," you whispered once you were down the hall and out of earshot. "What a creep."
"Please tell me you got it," Dean said darkly, weaving you through the crowd. You slipped the artifact into his suit pocket, giving it a pat for good measure.
"Didn't do that for nothing." You winked at him and pushed him away to walk the rest of the way to the car on your own two feet.
Dean stared after you, dumbfounded. He tried not to fixate on the way your hips swayed in that dress as you walked away proudly. God, that dress! It hugged your body perfectly, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn't been eyeing you all night. His cock was semi-hard in his dress pants, an annoying reminder of just how much you'd proved him wrong.
"Come on, dickhead," you yelled out the back window of the Impala. Dean realized starkly that he had stopped in place thinking about your tits.
"Dammit," he muttered, hurrying around to the driver's seat.
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The three of you piled into your hotel room to debrief from the mission. You assured the boys that you were alright from your creepy encounter with the old guy, and that stealing the artifact was worth it. The way Dean watched you raptly as you began to disrobe was not lost on you.
"I've dealt with worse in my time," you reminded them, shaking out your hair. "I'm a solo female hunter. Sleazy men hit on me literally wherever I go." You plopped down on the bed and pulled your stockings off one by one.
"As long as you're sure," Sam said, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna head back over to our room to get some sleep. You coming, Dean?"
Dean snapped out of his fantasy. "Uh, no. I'll be there in a little bit. Gotta talk to her about something."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Just don't bite each other's head off." And with that, he was gone.
You watched Dean from the shadows of the half-lit room. When he made no move to say anything, you did. "What do you need to talk about?" you asked, knowing full well. "Gonna say sorry cuz of how wrong you were?"
Dean flicked his eyes up to yours. Where had he been looking before?
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. You did good."
You stood and sauntered over to where he sat in a straight-backed chair by the dresser. "But that's not all, is it?" You smirked at him and looked him up and down, gaze lingering on his crotch, where a tent had begun to form.
Dean covered his bulge with his hand and pressed down, growling. "You were a little too good."
"So, what? You stayed because you want me to help with that?" you teased, coming closer.
"Yeah," Dean said roughly, standing quickly.
"No," you said bluntly, taking him by the shoulder and pushing him back into the chair.
Dean grimaced. "Why? Please," he begged, face twisted in arousal.
You giggled. "Wow."
"What?" Dean snapped, eyes cracking open.
"Nothing," you said, smirking. "You could beg a little more, might help." You felt your own arousal start to pool in your panties.
"Please, Y/N." Dean looked up at you with wild eyes, squeezing his cock through his pants.
"Please what?" You cocked your head.
"Please... make me cum," he said finally, eyes dropping to your midriff, unwilling to hold your gaze.
You tilted his chin up so he would look at you again, feeling a certain sense of satisfaction that you had somehow reduced him to this begging, horny mess in the chair before you.
"All you had to do was ask," you said softly. You backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Dean started to get up and follow you.
"No," you said, holding up a red-manicured finger. "Sit back down." You pointed.
Dean frowned but did as he was told. You smiled, delighted.
"You're having way too much fun with this," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry what was that?" you asked with a stern expression. "Do you want to cum or not?"
Dean's dick twitched in his pants. The way you bossed him around was really turning him on. "Nothing."
"That's what I thought." You twirled your hair thoughtfully. Dean whined impatiently.
"Tsk, tsk." You crossed your legs at an angle where he could almost see through the slit into your crotch. "Take your cock out."
Dean was all too happy to oblige, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants faster than you could say desperate, hiking up his dress shirt in the process.
"Wait," you interrupted before he could go any further. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt, too. Wouldn't want to make a mess." You smirked.
"Okay," Dean agreed breathily, practically tearing the two sides of the shirt from each other, exposing his muscular torso. You had seen him shirtless before, but there was something about the way he was breathing, stomach rising and falling quickly as he panted, that turned you on when it wouldn't normally.
"Now you can take your dick out," you said. You held your breath a little as his cock came into view. He was fully hard now, and dripping. He squeezed the base, moaning.
"Now what?" he asked, eyes shut as he lightly stroked his cock with his fingertips.
"You need me to tell you how to jack off?" you asked meanly. To your surprise, Dean moaned loudly at that.
He began stroking his cock, slowly at first, building up speed as he could no longer contain himself. A near-constant string of quiet whimpers and moans fell from his lips. You took note of the way he swiped his thumb over his leaking slit, spreading it around to aid his fingers.
"Look at me," you instructed. You wanted to see that wild look in his eyes again, and were instantly rewarded as his eyes flew open to meet yours. His mouth fell open as he gasped when he saw you.
"Forget I was here?" you teased. Dean gulped and shook his head vehemently. His hand slowed, and he started tugging himself less frantically, holding eye contact with you intensely.
"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "You're so hot, wanna see you."
You smirked. "Only because you admitted it." You hiked up your skirt, spreading the slit open so he could see your black lace panties.
Dean devoured your skin with his eyes, rubbing the head of his cock in circles with his thumb.
You dropped the straps of your dress so that they hung loosely around your shoulders and ran your long nails across your collarbones, petting your shoulders. Then you took hold of the neckline and pulled it down, freeing your tits from the dress.
"Better than I imagined, baby," Dean groaned at the sight, as his hips bucked into his hand.
You took one of your breasts in your hand, squeezing it towards your chest. "You imagined?" you lilted, smiling.
"Been thinkin' about you all night," he admitted shamelessly. "How good your tits looked in that dress. How good- ngh- you looked walkin' away from me."
Your other hand started creeping into your skirt. "Thought I couldn't even seduce a virgin. What does that make you?"
Dean growled, jerking his cock faster. "I don't- fuck-"
"Maybe you're just a manwhore," you purred, hopping off the bed to approach him.
"Please," Dean gasped, tossing his head back. "I need you."
You scoffed. "I'm not that lacking in self-respect." You lightly scratched your fingernails down the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, groaning, hand stilling.
You leaned in to murmur in his ear. "No, you're gonna take care of this all... by... yourself." You laced your fingers into his short hair, scratching his scalp, and pulled his head back. He relaxed and his eyes fluttered closed at the feeling.
"So take care of it," you remind him harshly, giving his hair a hard tug before letting go. Dean raised his head hazily and began to stroke his dick again, gasping. It was angry red, practically begging for release, but Dean seemed determined to tease himself until he couldn't take it anymore, which you suspected would be soon.
You turned your back to him and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor in a silken puddle. You heard Dean moan softly, sound of skin rubbing skin growing faster. You smiled to yourself as an idea occurred to you.
Against a backdrop of street lamplight coming through the window and lewd noises coming from Dean, you padded barefoot wearing only your underwear to the other side of the bed, where your pajamas lay folded neatly on the nightstand. You unfolded them and spread them out on the bed.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked hoarsely. "Don't- please stay- I need to see you," he whimpered finally.
You ignored him, as you had been planning to do, and put your pajamas on dramatically slowly to the soundtrack of Dean begging you to stop, stay naked, help him.
You turned back to him when you were finished and a rush of arousal hit you at the sight: Dean, cock in hand, sitting exactly where you had left him, sweaty and gasping and looking at you with a wild, desperate expression. You moaned softly in spite of yourself.
"Poor baby," you pout, rounding the bed to sit next to him again. "Haven't you come yet?"
Dean's hand was working overtime, forearm muscles flexing and rippling beneath his skin where his sleeve was rolled up.
"Can't," he breathed.
"You can't come?" You feigned surprise, even though you had known for several minutes that he was probably going to wait for your permission.
"Need you," Dean panted. "Can't do it- mm- without you."
"Sure you can," you said, running your nails down his chest. He shivered intensely.
Dean whimpered, face contorting in frustration. "I can't."
"What, I got you so turned on you can't even jack off without me?" you tease, fingertips stopping right above his happy trail.
"Please touch me."
"I am touching you," you reply smoothly, digging your fingers into his stomach.
Dean rolled his eyes, although you weren't sure if it was sass or pleasure. "Please," he insisted, whining.
"Useless." You replaced his hand with yours, gripping his cock tightly as you stroked it for him. "Can't even make yourself come without my help."
Dean went slack-jawed, head falling back once more. "Uh-huh," he moaned breathily. He ground his hips upwards, trying to find more pressure or friction or something but getting nothing but what you gave him.
"You're a useless whore, right?" you taunted. He would tell you if you went too far, right?
"Yes," Dean groaned loudly. You almost clapped your hand over his mouth, certain that Sam could hear through the walls.
"Shhh, be quiet baby," you said instead. You swiped your thumb over the head of his dick and he hissed, biting his lip. Your other hand went down to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze.
Suddenly Dean's whole body tensed and his eyes flew open. "Shit- I'm so close, please," he panted. His abs flexed, indicating that he was telling the truth.
You increased the pressure on both hands slightly. "Go on then."
Dean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled gasp and a groan as he came, spurting over his stomach and your hands. You kept pumping, using his cum to aid your efforts, until he was begging you to stop between gasping breaths. Only then did you let go of him, admiring your handiwork.
One Dean Winchester (formerly unbelieving of your sexual prowess), spread over a chair, covered in cum, sweaty and panting and utterly fucked out.
"Thank you," he whispered weakly after a moment.
"Will you ever doubt me again?" you asked, smirking.
He rolled his head to the side to look at you. "No. Fuck, that was hot." Dean grinned. "Actually, I changed my mind. Maybe I should doubt you more often."
You rolled your eyes. "Whatever, Winchester. Clean up and go to bed."
Dean got out of the chair stiffly, winked at you, and went to do as he was told.
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dividers by @cafekitsune and @saradika
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