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#forbidden romance
raindropsfromheaven · 10 hours
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Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~ Teaser ♱
Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Song: Eve by Precious Pepala Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Mature Content (its Hazbin, come on guys) Smut (probably idk yet, I will of course warn before it shows up- if it does)
♱♱♱ You, the most virtuous of angels, the kindest soul that had ever graced the ground of Heaven. The Seraphim adored you, the First Man wanted you- you were everything.
You remembered the way the Seraphim had offered to create a third wife for Adam- you were there. He had stared into your eyes as he spoke, addressing the Seraphim.
“I don’t need you to make a third wife.”
You knew how highly the angels thought of you. Sera had told you repeatedly how you were completely Pure in her Judgement, her eyes sparkling with adoration for your virtue. You just smiled sheepishly and did you best to remain humble, which only made them love you more.
Which is what made your fall from grace so shocking.
♱♱♱
[Sneak Peek]
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered, the words feeling alien in your mouth as you paced your living room. Your mind ran through your earlier interaction with Emily. ♱♱♱
“Emily, what do I do if I want to… repent for something?”
Emily’s eyes flashed with concern. “Why, what did you do?”
You knew what she was thinking. Sweet [name] would never commit a sin. Sweet [name] would never have to repent.
“It was just a little thing, I just felt bad about it, and I want to- to clear my conscience.”
Emily tilted her head, her face relaxing as you assured her it wasn’t a big deal. “Sure then. Sera tells me that there’s a confessional on this street-“
You winced, visibly, and her frown reappeared again. “Or,” she continued more slowly, “you could just say a quick prayer at home. ‘Father forgive me, for I have sinned… and then say what you did. Please forgive me.’ Sound good enough for you?”
You nodded. “Thank you, Emily.” And watched her as she turned and walked away, eyes fixated unseeingly onto her back as it disappeared.
♱♱♱ You dropped to your knees as the world lurched around you. You felt like you were going to be sick.
Just say it. Just say the words.
“Father…” Your voice cracked and you trailed off. You glanced out the window, before sitting up properly and tracing the shapes of the clouds againts the glass. How could you say the prayer when you knew, that whatever had happened, you didn’t regret it?
The hollowing pit of despair in your gut only grew deeper as you thought. What would the Seraphim say? You gulped.
You closed your eyes. You couldn’t keep them closed for long- the image of Lucifer was seared across the back of your eyelids. It didn’t matter. The feel of his hand was printed on your wrist. On your waist. The warmth of his lips on yours still lingered. His eyes. Why did he have to be so beautiful? You shuddered.
You knew that you could just forget this, bury it, never visit Lucifer during the exterminations again and continue your life as an angel. But you knew, at the same time, that he was too unforgettable, and it would only be a matter of time before someone found out if you continued- because you could never, ever stop.
“Father forgive me, for I have sinned,” you forced the words out, voice shaking. “I have fallen in love with the Devil.”
♱♱♱
A/N: Stay tuned guys!
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aajjks · 8 months
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Teachers pet (m)
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synopsis: forbidden is always irresistible.
pairing: yändêrê stüdënt x fëm!tëächër rëädër.
warnings: söft yändērē, sïmp bëhävïöür, öbsëssîvë thoughts, öbsëssïön, dïrty thöüghts, tëächêr x stüdënt, förbïddën rômãncë. ägë dïffërënce.
note. my second oc is here, send him asks, talk to him, ask me questions about him, I like him he’s sexy 😵‍💫
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yandere!student who has the biggest crush on you.
You who are his teacher, so much older than him.
Yandere!student who only excels at your classes, trying his best to get good grades so he can impress you.
Yandere!student who feels like he will actually cum when you praise him, or call him a good boy.
Yandere!student who hates it when you praise his fellows, he hates it, it makes his skin itch, he wants to kill anyone who gets your praise other than him.
Yandere!student who is rude to his other teachers, he can’t focus on their lectures, all he thinks about is you you you.
Yandere!student who is so shy around you, who puts in so much effort into his appearance for your sake, who loves to act like a good boy, so you can see just how good he can be.
Yandere!student who is always early to your class, who always makes sure to sit right infront of you so you can look at him.
Yandere!student who couldn’t help but cry from the relief when he got to know that you were divorced and currently single.
Yandere!student who doesn’t hesitate to beat up the creeps in your class that sexualise you, oh no, he’s going to kill them, you are not an object or a piece of meat to be ogled at.
Yandere!student who purposely gets detention just so he can look at you for hours and fantasise about his desires,
Yandere!student who finds your children so adorable, who makes sure to slip in a few compliments for them to charm you.
Yandere!student who wants you so bad, but he knows you won’t ever give him a chance.
yandere!student who won’t stop until you’re his. Because he always gets what he wants.
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“Christian?”
he can hear someone call out his name, yet he doesn’t reply, he’s busy looking at you, you’re so beautiful with your glasses, that cherry shade of lipstick on your lips is driving him insane.
How can someone look so hot while teaching, he will have to ask you that.
“Christian?!!?” Oh he’s getting pissed now.
“WHAT?!!?” The blue eyed male stands up, chewing on his metal tongue piercing as he glares his icy eyes into the girls face, Christian doesn’t realise the attention of the whole class on him,
Until you call his name out.
“Christian Dias? Is everything alright?”
His eyes almost roll back the way you call out his name, you say it with so much elegance it makes him want to scream. “M-Ms YN… she keeps talking to me, can you please change my seat?”’
“Umm sure. But not now, the period is almost over so tomorrow, now focus.”
He can’t argue with you.
“Okay.”
“And see me after class.”
His eyes widen with surprise, excitement starts to bubble inside his chest. He gives you a nice dimpled smile. “Sure? Anything you want, ms YN!”
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jk97 · 2 months
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Unprofessional Attraction | ONE
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♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 13K ♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot  ♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡
Part 1 | Part 2 | ?
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Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.
That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”
“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.
Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.
A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.
“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”
“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”
He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.
“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.
“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”
“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.
“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.
“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”
You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”
“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”
“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”
When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.
From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.
He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.
  [Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]
When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.
You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.
“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.
He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.
“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.
“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”
“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”
Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.
Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”
Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.
“You ready?”
“Absolutely,” you puff out.
“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.
“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.
Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.
“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.
“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.
Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.
“I was just asking, Jesus.”
Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”
“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.
“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”
“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”
Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”
San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.
It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.
You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.
“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.
Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.
His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.
“Good morning!”
“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”
“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”
Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.
“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.
With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.
“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”
“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”
Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.
“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”
You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.
“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”
He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”
“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.
After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”
“Of course!”
When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.
On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.
“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”
“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.
“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”
“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.
“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”
The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–
“_____?”
You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.
“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”
“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”
“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.
Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.
“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”
“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”
Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”
You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”
“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.
“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”
Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”  
Not tonight.
You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.
“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”
While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.
When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.
“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.
“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”
That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.
“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”
“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.
  “We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”  
Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.
But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”
That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”
To which he never declines, naturally.
Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.
“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”
A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”
He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.
“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”
He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in pink as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.
“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.
“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.
You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.
“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.
“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.
“You don’t even know the price of it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”
“Yunho…”
“Don’t even give me that, ____.”
The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.
When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”
“Cheers.”
Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.
As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.
“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.
“I can get you an Uber if—”
“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”
That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.
Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.
Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.
“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.
While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.
“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.
He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”
“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”
Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he’s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.
Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.
Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—
He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.
Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.
“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”
Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.
“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.
He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”
“You’re fine, no worries.”
It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.
“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”
You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”
There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.
“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”
Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.
“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”
Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…
After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.
But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.
“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.
“Can we talk?”
“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”
When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.
“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.
“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”
“Neither am I.”
At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.
“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.
“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.
“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”
Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”
In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.
“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”
Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.
You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”
Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.
“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.
You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.
“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”
Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.
It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.
It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.
It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.
“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.
“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.
The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.
“Take yours off too?”
Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.
“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.
Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.
His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.
“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.
“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.
“You know what I mean.”
Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”
Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.
“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.
He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.
“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”
Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.
He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.
“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”
Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.
The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.  
“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”
When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.
“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.
“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”
“So fucking good.”
Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.
He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”
“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”
You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.
“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”
You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.
Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.
Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.
He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.
Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?
Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?
Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?
All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.
He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.
He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.
  [Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]
Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.
Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.
  [Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]
To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.
  [Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]
He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.
  [Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]
Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.
Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.
At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.
You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.
On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.
“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.
To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.
“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.
“Don’t.”
“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”
You employ a small pout to boot.
“And you think I believe that?”
“I think you should believe it.”
He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!
“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.
You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.
Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.
“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”
He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.
“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”
You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”
“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”
“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”
Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?
“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”
“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.
“A mistake?”
“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”
You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”
“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.
“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”
When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.
Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.
“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”
“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.
“Boo, why can I never know anything–”
“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”
“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.
Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.
A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.
“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”
“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”
“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”
“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”
Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”
You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.
“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.
You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.
“That was quick,” you giggle.
“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.
  Fuck.
“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”
“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.
You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”
“Just give me five minutes, please.”
You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.
“Spit it out already, Yunho.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.
Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”
“Thought it was a mistake–”
“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”
“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”
There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.
“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”
You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:
“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”
“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”
“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”
“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”
You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.
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♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr
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kinanabinks · 7 months
Note
Hey Kinny ! I’ve had an idea and I thought you’d be the best to share with
What if Bucky was in a relationship for a few months now but there’s always been this tension with a younger trainee on the team . Linger looks and sometimes touches but never going further than that . Until one time they’re paired together on a mission . On a room with a single bed . The mission was rough and left them with an awful lot of unreleased tension . So as they’re both laying in bed , Bucky can’t help but notice her choice of sleepwear . A tank top and short shorts . He’s ashamed to admit he’s hard . I don’t know how you’d want this to progress bur basically sexual stuff with no penetration. Making out, blowing each other off , fingering , naked grinding and maybe even just the tip ….. I don’t know feel free to ignore this but I just found it really hot
idk what's wrong with me but i fkn love a good cheating fic. if anyone wants me to write them something just include cheating and the likelihood of me writing it increases by 80%
deadly nightshade
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18+
the brightest berries are oft the most poisonous. why do the ones we can't have look like they'll taste so much sweeter?
content warning: bucky x f!reader, mature themes, bucky x f!oc, cheating, glorification of adultery, sexual tension, intimate touching, one bed trope, forbidden romance, fingering, 34 + 35, face fucking, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink, penetrative sex, cream pie.
a/n: i think this is my favorite smut i've written so far !
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You aren't sure when it started. When he first started looking at you like that, as though he was wondering what you'd feel like. Taste like. You can't remember the first time he squeezed your hip with his cold, metal hand while walking past you, or the first hug that lasted too long.
It's become your norm, to be on edge around him. The excitement is blended with nervousness and a dash of guilt, especially whenever she's close by. There's a palpable tension between you, one you hope nobody else can notice, and one that you rarely stop thinking about.
"Come on, you can go harder than that," Steve says teasingly, barely even flinching as you lunge forward to punch him again.
"Can you at least pretend it hurts?" You complain, frustrated. "Or can I train with another agent - you know, someone that isn't a super soldier?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Bucky asks with a smirk as he stands to the side of the boxing ring, wrapping his flesh hand in bandages. "I thought you liked a challenge."
You scoff as he climbs into the ring, raising a brow. "Great! Now I'm getting tag teamed by two super soldiers?" You ask in disbelief, slightly excited at the prospect of being manhandled by them.
"C'mon, rookie, this should be easy," Bucky says, slowly walking further into the ring. "Or at least, it will be for Steve and I."
With narrow eyes, you take a step back, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips as he shoots you a wink. "Alright," You say, putting up your fists. "You're old men, and I've beaten guys twice your size before. Let's do this."
"Them's fighting words, rookie," Bucky says with a cautionary tone. "You sure?"
"Deadly," You say gravely, ignoring the voice in your head telling you this is a bad idea.
They're nice to you, at first. Allowing you to get a couple of hits in, and Bucky even goes so far as to pretend it hurts. He does his best to limit the use of his metal arm, which you appreciate, though there's always been something about it that intrigues you. Something that, admittedly, turns you on.
And, as though he can read your mind, he suddenly wraps it around your neck, holding your body against his with your back to his front.
"Got her, Stevie," He says teasingly, slightly pressing his arm against your throat, making your legs squeeze together as your core begs for friction.
"That's not fair. I was just about to win," You utter, not even trying to pull out of his grip as you cling onto his arm, gasping when you feel his boner digging into your ass. Fuck. If only Steve wasn't here.
"Alright, I'm done," Steve says with a triumphant smile, holding his hands up as he turns around to leave the ring. "I've proved my point - I am not an old man!"
"Stop squirming so much, rookie," Bucky mumbles lowly into your ear, keeping you pinned against his body.
You can't help but let out a whimper, your panties positively soaked through as your hips uncontrollably move, rubbing your ass against his crotch. He uses his free hand to push down on your hips, forcing you to grind harder against him.
"Get some rest, Y/N," Steve calls out as he picks up his bag. "You've got an early morning tomorrow."
Just as Bucky leans down again to whisper in your ear, the door to the training room opens and in walks one of the other trainees. Bucky slowly releases you, making it seem as though him having you in a headlock with your ass directly on his dick was just a casual part of your training routine.
"Evening Captain, Sergeant," Landon says with a nod. "Uh, Sergeant Barnes, your... Miss Green's here to see you."
There should be a guilt that fills you at the mention of Bucky's girlfriend - or a fear, a nervousness at least. You should feel dirty for practically rubbing yourself on his boner, but you don't. You just look at him, give him a quick smile, and leave the boxing ring, like nothing untoward ever happened.
And he does the same.
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Shelly's birthday party is a lowkey affair. She doesn't like being made a fuss of, and like you, she likes to keep her work life and private life separate, so only a few agents were invited.
The bar is nice. A lot nicer than the places you spend your birthdays. It's strictly no-phones, which works well for New York's elite. You're slightly worried about the tab you'll have to pay at the end of the night, especially when you spot a few C-List celebrities walking through, but that's not an issue you need to put any thought to right now.
Right now, you just need to concern yourself with the Irish man who has his arm around your waist.
"Your body is insane," He utters, looking you up and down. "You a, uh, fitness influencer, or something?"
With a laugh, you nod. "Mhm. That's me," You say, not bothering to correct him as explaining you work for SHIELD isn't always the biggest turn-on for men.
While he whispers in your ear, your eyes flicker up to the entrance where a few familiar faces walk in. Taken aback as you weren't expecting to see any actual Avengers attending this party tonight, and judging by the look on Shelly's face, she wasn't either.
"I invited them as a joke," You hear her hiss to her husband, who finds the whole thing hilarious.
Steve, Sam, and Bucky walk over to her with a smile as they hand her gift bags. You watch on in amusement while the man by your side - is his name Leo? - starts kissing your neck. Shelly politely accepts the gifts while her husband holds back his laughs, introducing himself to the three.
Leo whispers something in your ear about getting out of here when you lock eyes with Bucky, making your body tense up.
"Babe?" Leo mumbles.
"One sec, I'll be back," You reply half-heartedly as you make your way over to where Bucky's standing at the bar.
"Hey, rookie," He greets you with a smug look on his face, before glancing behind you at Leo. "Who's the guy?"
"He's Irish," You tell him, resting your arm on the bar. "And cute."
"Yeah? You gonna take him home?" He asks, sneakily looking you up and down with his eyes lingering on your hips. "Let him fuck you?"
You scoff in slight surprise at his question, unable to hold back the smile on your face. "I'm planning on it," You admit as your stomach flips.
"He's a lucky man," He says, leaning in. "I look forward to hearing all about it."
"Oh, yeah? You want all the gory details?" You ask with a soft laugh.
He moves closer to you, lowering his voice. "I want a step-by-step rundown," He teases, using the same terminology Steve uses after a mission before a smirk pulls at his lips. "I wanna know if he makes you cum."
Your breath hitches in your throat but you do your best to act cool. "I- he talks a big game," You say. "Might be overcompensating for his lack of skill."
Bucky tuts at your words, shaking your head. "That's no good, rookie, you don't wanna be left hanging," He says, resting his elbow on the bar and bringing his hand to your face, where he strokes your cheek. "You're gonna have to play with yourself once it's over. Make yourself cum."
Fuck. You can feel your panties soak and you know he can smell it. He swallows thickly, lowering his hand to your neck where his thumb rubs over your throat.
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," You utter, unable to pull your eyes away from his.
Bucky smiles, shooting you a wink. "I wish you luck, rookie."
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"What do you mean, an NDA?" Jenn asks you with narrow eyes. "The fuck do you need one of those for?"
"I just wanna know if we have someone here who can sort it out for us," You claim innocently, unable to keep the impatience out of your tone. "Or if I'll have to hire my own lawyer."
She raises a brow and says, "You'll have to speak to HR, or one of the big guys."
"What? No way!" You exclaim, feeling nauseous at the idea of talking to one of the Avengers about it.
"Why not? You're all buddy-buddy with them," She says, sounding a little bitter.
"Not on that level," You clarify. "We work together sometimes, that's all."
"Well, the next time you're put on a mission with Black Widow, flying off to Cancun to stake out a billionaire on some fancy resort, you can ask her," Jenn says before dropping her boxing gloves and storming away.
"That was one time!" You yell as she leaves the gym, before huffing and rolling your eyes. "Fuckin' A."
You continue training alone for another half hour before someone else walks in. It's none other than Sam, who greets you with a smile. You're not particularly close with Sam, but you get along. Understandably, he hardly ever has any time for agents unless he's on a mission with them, but he's nice enough.
Deciding you have no other choice, knowing how useless the HR team is here, you let out a sigh and pull out an earphone. "Hey, Sam?" You call out, causing him to put down the weights in his hand and turn to you.
"What's up?" He asks.
You walk over to him with a sheepish look on your face. "Can I just be totally candid and ask for some advice?" You request.
"Of course," He says immediately. "Whatever it is, fire away."
"Uh, it's not really to do with work, per say," You admit, rubbing the back of your neck. "It's slightly... personal."
He gives you a knowing smile and walks closer to you. "I get it. Just pretend I'm a stranger, and whatever you tell me stays between us," He promises.
"Thank you," You whisper, before clearing your throat. "Okay. So, it's not that bad, but I would like to get someone to sign an NDA."
He looks taken aback. "Oh. Okay."
"I was just wondering if it's worth it getting the help through work, or if I should just hire my own lawyer," You wonder aloud. "I know here they're busy with more important things, but you know what they say about trainee wages. I can't really afford a good lawyer."
"Mhm," He hums, nodding while processing your words. "Can I ask why you need an NDA?"
You wince, having known the question would eventually come. "Yeah, uh, I slept with someone," You blurt out. "And... I would prefer them to keep it to themselves."
"Right," Sam says slowly. "Why do you doubt they would keep it to themselves without an NDA? And is it really a big deal if they do tell someone?"
"It's just... something happened, during, that I'd much rather not see being spread on social media, or anything," You say, cringing inwardly.
"Uh-huh. How bad was it?" Sam can't help but ask.
"Bad," You answer. "I... I said someone else's name."
He raises a brow. "Is that really so bad?"
"Yes, because the person who's name I said... it's, uh... it's someone... sensitive," You say, unable to look him in the eyes. "And... if the guy goes around telling people, someone who knows them might find out... it's just gonna be messy, and awkward."
Sam nods slowly, thinking for a few moments before speaking. "Alright. Well, this guy you slept with- he's a nobody, right?"
"Pretty much," You agree.
"And is there really any proof that you did sleep with him?" Sam pushes.
"Not really..." You trail off.
"And so, if this guy was to make claims, who the fuck's gonna believe him?" He asks you with a raised brow.
You take in his words, nodding. "You're right. Ha, you're right!" Smiling widely, you pat his arm. "Thank you, Sam!"
"No problem, Y/N," He says, chuckling to himself as you walk out.
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"Alright, that's all for this week. Jenn, Landon, and Y/N, can you stay behind?" Maria asks as the others begin to filter out of the meeting room.
The three of you stand before her, waiting to hear what she has to say.
"Jenn and Landon, I can see you've each only got one competency left to achieve before you can qualify for Agent status. There's a recon mission next week being headed by Agent Carter; if you're successful in your assigned tasks during said mission, you'll qualify," She tells them, causing them to whisper excitedly to each other while she turns to you. "Y/N, you still have a few competencies left to complete, but you're almost there. I'm putting you on Operation Musket."
Jenn and Landon suddenly become silent as their eyes widen. They each turn to you, shock on their features.
Your heart is racing. Not just at the notion of being alone on an assignment with Bucky, but also because of the assignment itself. Operation Musket is the biggest mission there's been all year, and it was largely understood by everyone that Bucky Barnes would be completing it alone. Any agent tagging along would be a liability, in Fury's words.
"Wha- with all due respect, ma'am, are you serious?" You ask Maria with furrowed brows.
"Deadly," She replies bluntly, no hint of humor in her tone.
Jenn steps forward. "But Director Fury said-"
"Director Fury is not in charge of my trainees," Maria cuts her off curtly. "When it comes to you completing your competencies, I know best. I also know Operation Musket inside and out, and I believe Y/N will be an asset to Sergeant Barnes. It gives her the opportunity to gain some more experience in Russia, which as you all know, is vital in qualifying for Agent status. Now, does anyone have a problem with my decision?"
The three of you stand silently, not daring to say a word.
"Good," Maria says with a tight smile. "Then this discussion is over. Off you go, trainees."
You all begin to leave, but Maria calls out just as you open the door.
"Y/N, report to the briefing room first thing on Saturday, " She directs you. "Oh, and pack a small bag. It's an overnight mission."
Fuck.
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Usually, you say no to drinks with your superiors, but this time you were quick to agree to Steve's invitation. He was shocked as he's used to being rejected whenever he suggests you join them in the bar, but you need to get drunk tonight- the type of drunk you can't afford yourself.
It's not public knowledge that there's a bar in Avengers HQ. It's underground and shares a wall with one of the labs; Tony's very own speakeasy. You came for the free alcohol, but as soon as you see Bucky with Emma on his lap, you immediately regret it.
"Can I get a bottle of vodka and a shot glass?" You request Natasha who's standing behind the bar.
She raises a brow, slightly offended that you interrupted her conversation with Bruce but equally as impressed that you had the balls to do so. "Coming right up, trainee," She says, emphasizing the last word to remind you of your position and the fact that you should probably use a little more respect when speaking to her.
Snapping out of your daze, you widen your eyes. "Thank you, ma'am," You say quickly, wincing when you hear Bruce snickering under his breath.
She slides over the bottle and the glass before continuing her conversation with Bruce, and when you realize she's trying to flirt with him, you quickly move over to the couches.
"All I asked for was a burrito," Steve says to Sam and Tony. "Was I being rude?"
You silently sit next to Steve, trying not to garner any attention but also not wanting to drink alone. The three of them chat over beers while you take a few shots.
"Alright there, Y/N?" Steve asks you suddenly, making you look up at him with shock.
"Uh, yeah," You reply with a nod.
"Oh, hey," Tony says, clicking his fingers in your direction. "You're the, uh, superstar trainee, aren't ya? The prodigy?"
"Prodigy?" You reply with a frown, wondering who on Earth would have described you as that to Tony Stark.
"Maria Hill seems to like you," Steve reveals to your surprise. "She thinks you're the next... well, Maria Hill."
"She does not!" You say with a gasp, your heart fluttering at the prospect. Maria's a tough boss, and even tougher to impress, so the fact that she praises you to the Avengers themselves is insane.
"Says you're gonna go far as an agent," Tony adds with a slow nod, bringing his beer up to his lips while looking around with a frown. "Hey, why don't we invite more trainees to these things? Get some fresh blood in here."
"Maria would kill you," You tell him with a laugh. "We're not supposed to get drunk during our probation, seeing as we have training every morning."
Steve raises a brow, glancing down to the half-empty vodka bottle in your lap. "Uh..."
"Oh, this?" You ask casually. "This won't get me drunk. I have a high tolerance."
"If you say so," Steve utters, not so convinced.
In truth, you only feel a slight buzz so far. You make a mental note to take the bottle home and carry on drinking there, as you don't want someone to snitch to Maria - losing her respect, which you only just learned you actually have, would be detrimental to your career.
"It's part of my training process," You tell him. "I'm preparing for the mission this weekend."
"This weekend? You're on Musket?" Sam asks on disbelief.
"Told you Maria likes her," Tony mumbles.
"Yes, indeed," You reply to Sam with a nod. "I'll be joining Sergeant Barnes in Russia."
"Won't that be fun?" Bucky's voice suddenly chimes in from above you. You look up to see him joining the circle, along with Emma. They sit on the couch to your right while you try to relax your pounding heart.
It's not very often at all that you're around his girlfriend. Emma and Bucky have been together for the better part of two years now, and she's a familiar face around HQ. It isn't very common for Avengers to bring their partners to work, but Emma works at Stark Industries so she's somewhat involved in Avenger business.
"I thought you were doing Musket alone, Buck," Sam says with a frown.
Bucky shrugs, resting his arm around Emma's shoulders. "Fury decided I needed some help," He says simply, before his eyes land on you. "Rookie's always good to have on an assignment, so I can't complain."
"I can vouch for that," Steve agrees, nudging your arm. "I'm surprised you're still a trainee."
"You flatter me," You mumble, leaning your head back against the couch.
While the rest of them continue to talk, you drown out their voices with your thoughts. Are you being crazy? Does Bucky purposely flirt with you, or are you reading it all wrong? Is he attracted to you and unable to hide it, or is that how he is with everyone? You've caught him shooting a flirty comment Natasha's way before, but usually in an effort to grind her gears - he's never been inappropriate with another trainee or agent to your knowledge, so why you? Could it be that he genuinely feels something towards you?
And if he does have sexual attraction towards you, what the fuck is going to happen this weekend?
Missions are rarely overnight and there's a running joke among the agents that they end with sex. You're aware of the highly incestuous dating pool at work, but you've made a promise to never partake. The other trainees are like your siblings at this point, and you wouldn't want to jeopardize a mission by being distracted with feelings.
But Bucky's different. He's not just an agent you can brush off. Admittedly, there's a power difference in play, and something about his senior position is allowing you to break your own rules.
Snap out of it. You're not genuinely attracted to him - nothing will ever actually happen between you. You're just close friends who openly talk about sex and enjoy flirting with each other- there's nothing wrong with that.
"Wake up, rookie," His voice suddenly sounds out from next to you.
Your eyes flutter open and you suck in a sharp breath before turning to the left to see he's taken Steve's place. Everyone else is gone, only he remains. If you looked around, you'd see they've all congregated at the bar, but you don't, because you don't care.
"I'm up," You mumble, meeting his eyes. "You good?"
"Me? Yeah, I'm good," He replies with a smug look on his face.
A few moments of blissful silence pass by. You can hear light chatter and laughter from the bar, and the low lighting allows you to relax, which isn't something you can usually do around Bucky.
"Oh, I should warn you," He begins, stealing your attention as he lowers his voice. "A lotta poisonous plants where we're heading on Saturday. Luskey's HQ is surrounded by woods, and almost every plant is something you won't wanna touch."
"I'll keep that in mind," You mumble absentmindedly.
"Nobody warned me last time and I ended up having fuckin' hallucinations. Saw gnomes walking around," He tells you with a chuckle. "Probably one of the nicer ones to touch. Some of them can kill you."
"Sounds kinda nice. I'd love to hallucinate gnomes," You say with a soft laugh.
He nudges your shoulder and the area burns. You want him to touch you everywhere. Stop.
"Yeah, plenty of nasty things where we're going," He says, looking down at you. "But we'll have fun amongst all the deadly nightshade."
"I'm looking forward to it," You say honestly.
"I bet you are, rookie," He says with a smirk before lowering his voice. "Never got the chance to ask you. How was your night with Mr. Irish?"
Your heart skips a beat at the reminder of that night.
"Just like that, don't stop," You moaned, digging your nails into your back. "Please, make me cum, Bucky, please."
"Uh, yeah," You say flatly while trying to ignore the memory. "It was good."
"Did he do it?" He asks you with a raised brow. "Did he make you cum?"
You swallow thickly, unsure of what to say. No, Bucky, he didn't make me cum, because before he got the chance to I was moaning your name.
"I'll take that as a no," He says with a chuckle. "That's a shame. I had high hopes for you."
"Don't worry about me," You assure him with a small smile. "I can take care of myself."
"Yeah? You took care of yourself?" Bucky utters lowly, stealing a quick glance at your body. "Had to finish yourself off, hmm?"
You squeeze your legs together, hating yourself for getting wet so easily. You know he can fucking smell it.
His eyes light up as he moves closer to you. "What did you think about while touching yourself?" He asks you, making your stomach flip.
With a light gulp, you sink a little lower on the couch. "I..." You trail off, wondering whether it would be too far to tell him the truth.
"Tell me, rookie," He whispers, his eyes dark and piercing. "You think about getting fucked? 'Bout someone splitting you open, railing you 'til you beg him to stop?"
Is he drunk? You take one look at the cup in his hand and instantly recognise the color. It's Asgardian ale.
"Bucky," You mumble, biting your lip. "You shouldn't be talking to me like that."
"Just a question, rook," He replies casually, raising a brow. "I'm curious. Did you think about me fucking you?"
Your breath is stolen and your eyes widen. Before you can even begin to process his question, you hear some of the others approaching. Sitting up, you turn to see Steve and Emma walking over with smiles on their faces.
"Here are the dynamic duo," Steve says with a grin as he and Emma sit on the couch opposite you. "You guys ready for the weekend?"
"You must be a pretty impressive trainee if Fury thinks Jamie's gonna need you there," Emma says with a quirked brow. "Can't say I'm convinced- Jamie's been on plenty of intense missions alone and he's been just fine."
"No, I need rookie there," Bucky claims firmly, patting your shoulder. "She's a genius with codes. We'll get it done in half the time."
"So, I should expect you back home by Saturday night?" Emma asks him expectantly.
He takes a sip of the ale before shrugging. "We'll do our best to make it quick," Bucky says, looking at you before adding, "No promises, though."
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It's a tough mission, and you're glad. If there was any less stress or if the stakes weren't as high as they are, you know your mind would drift. Drift to the night at the bar, Bucky's voice in your ear saying things he shouldn't have been saying. Asking questions you didn't want to answer.
But it's a tough mission.
"Stand down, rookie," His voice comes through your earpiece. "Meet at the safe house."
You should be relieved it's over - you should be over the moon that you positively contributed to the biggest assignment of the year and that you'll likely graduate to Agent status as soon as you get back to HQ - but you don't feel relief, or joy. You're nervous.
You take the long way back. Unsure as to what will unfold when you get to the safehouse, you take your time, a small part of you hoping that he'll be asleep by the time you get back. A bigger part of you, though, hopes he's not.
He's already lying on the bed when you get in, but his eyes are open. They flicker over to you and he watches as you undress. You peel off your tactical suit, grateful when your skin can finally breathe.
"I've gotta talk to Maria about these things," You mutter mostly to yourself as you step out of the suit. "They're not breathable at all."
Bucky slowly sits up, not even bothering to hide his gaze on your half-naked body. He's in nothing but his boxers, but you're too tired to care. You step into the bathroom, deciding it's probably a step too far to get your tits out in front of him, and change into your tank top and shorts. Packing light is a must during missions, which means summer pyjamas, even in Russia.
You wonder if anyone back at HQ has realized the conundrum - the fact that the safehouse only has one bed. That was fine back when it was only Bucky on this mission, but as you were assigned to it last minute, nobody bothered looking for something more appropriate for two people. You don't blame them. It takes a long time to lock down a secure location, so you'll put up with the lack of privacy.
"Good job today," He says once you return from the bathroom. "We worked well together. It felt slick. You're damn good for a rookie."
"Not too bad yourself," You say, kneeling onto the bed before raising a brow. "Don't you take that off when you sleep?"
He glances down at his vibranium arm with a slightly confused look before looking back up at you. "No," Is his simple answer.
You mumble a nothing response under your breath as you slowly get under the covers, your heart beating a little faster the closer you get to him.
"I can take the floor, if you'd rather," He suggests, though his tone makes it seem as though he has no intention to sleep anywhere but with you tonight. It sounds like his final warning - your last chance to pull out, because you both know that tonight won't be wholesome when you're sharing a bed.
"Shut up, weirdo," You mutter, turning away from him.
"Yes, ma'am," Bucky replies. You hear him moving around, feel the bed dip a little as he gets comfortable under the duvet.
You can hear his breathing. You can smell him - he must've had a shower with the weird soap from HQ. The kind that comes in a small ball and turns into foam when you add water.
A few moments pass, he turns his body around. You aren't sure which way he turned until you feel his front pressing against your back.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"Why aren't you breathing?"
Taken by surprise, you can only let out an odd squeak.
"Are you touching yourself?"
You stick your elbow out behind you but he doesn't even react as it digs into his stomach. "Shut up," You whisper.
"A little lower and that would've been nice," He mumbles.
"You want me to elbow your dick?" You ask incredulously.
"Well, if you're taking requests-"
"Go to sleep, Sergeant Barnes."
"Fuck. Don't call me that, rookie," He groans, moving closer to you. "Aren't you cold?"
"You're like a human radiator," You say, closing your eyes as though you could fall asleep when you can feel his boner against your lower back.
He places his hand on your hip, under your top. Slowly, he moves it further up, until he's cupping your bare boob. You don't know why you haven't said anything yet, but when he brushes over your nipple with his thumb, you can't keep quiet.
"You shouldn't," You mutter weakly. It makes you feel only slightly better - you feel a slight less guilt. I'm sorry, Emma. I tried to stop him. I did all I could.
"Shut up," He grumbles, pulling on it as it hardens.
"Bucky," You let out in a breath, rubbing your ass against his hard cock.
"You can't say you didn't know this was gonna happen," He says lowly as he grinds against you. "As if I could ever fuck this opportunity up."
"You're... we really fucking shouldn't-"
"Hey," He whispers, pulling your shoulder and flipping you over so you're lying on your back, looking up at him. "Don't worry. What happens in Russia..."
As he leans closer, using his knee to spread your legs apart and settling between them, you press your hands to his chest. "So, this doesn't count?" You ask him, a hint of nervousness to your tone.
"No, rookie, baby," He promises as his nose brushes against yours, his stubble scratching your skin. While speaking, he begins gently humping against you. "It's not like we're fucking, is it? Huh? I'm just... jus' touchin' you, feelin' you. Making you feel better after today. Making myself feel better. Today was tough, we need this. We're, uh - what's that shit they told us in the HR presentation? - we're looking out for each other's wellbeing while on the field. It's just part of the mission."
He's talking utter bullshit, but you don't care. It feels too good, his hard cock rubbing against your pussy feels too good for you to try and stop it. Loud moans leave your mouth; you're not bothering to pretend this isn't as sexual as it is.
"There you go," Bucky says with a smirk as he peels your top upwards, revealing your chest. "That's it. Don't worry about a thing, rookie, just, fuck, keep moaning for me, fuck."
You do as he says, moving your hands up to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. When he leans down and wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking hard on it, you cry out his name, bucking your hips upwards. With a hiss, you move your right hand up to his hair and pull on it, making him groan.
He slips a hand under the waistband of your shorts, starts rubbing your clit. His hand is soaked in seconds.
"Other hand," You whimper, gripping his vibranium bicep. "Please."
"Fuckin' little freak, aren't ya?" He mumbles under his breath, happily doing as you say. His cold metal fingers feel like ice against your clit, making your legs shudder. "Tell me what you're into," Bucky says lowly, keeping his eyes on your face as he watches it contort in pleasure. "Tell me, rookie. What fucked up shit do you want me to do to you? Huh?" He knows this might be his one and only chance to get you like this, so he wants to make the most of it.
"Bucky," Is all you can let out, too far gone to conjure a coherent thought.
"Call me Sergeant Barnes," He orders, to which you let out a breathy laugh.
"Shut the fuck up," You say hitting his chest.
He slaps your tit in retaliation, making you whine, while sinking his hard, metal fingers into your cunt. It feels unlike anything you've ever had inside you, and your eyelids flutter uncontrollably.
"Don't take them out," You request quickly, clenching around his digits. "Oh, fuck. Bucky, please."
He slowly begins to retract them, making you cry out.
"No!" You exclaim, before letting out a frustrated huff. "Please... Sergeant Barnes."
"Atta girl," He mumbles before giving them back to you. "How am I supposed to do this without taking them out, huh?"
"Just... just move them," You suggest while pulling down your shorts, wanting to see what it looks like to have his metal limb inside you.
Suddenly, he curls his fingers, making you shudder. "Like that, rookie?"
"Fuck, yes," You respond with delight.
He shakes his hand, curling and scissoring his fingers inside you. "You like the feeling of them filling you up, huh? You dirty little slut, you think about this all the time, don't you?" He asks you smugly.
"Just keep- keep doing that, Sergeant, fuck," You utter. "I'm getting close."
"Yeah? Gonna cum for me?" Bucky's voice seems different in this moment; more personal. Like you're seeing a side to him only a select few get the chance to. As you cum around his fingers, he lets out a groan, and it's the prettiest thing you've ever heard.
"Can I tell you something?" You ask once your breathing is normal again.
"What?" He mumbles while pulling down his pants.
"I- when I was fucking that Irish guy," You begin, making his eyes narrow.
"Fuck you thinking about him right now?" Bucky's offended, appalled that you're able to focus on something other than him after he just made you cum while barely moving his fingers - let alone another man.
"I said your name," You admit, the words flowing out against your control. "While he was inside me, I..."
Bucky laughs, his eyes lighting up. "You being serious?"
"Deadly," You whisper before pulling off your tank top.
He brings his hands up to your tits, pawing at them while rubbing his thumbs over your hard nipples. You grind your hips up, desperate to feel him inside you. His cock is big, thick against your thigh. You can't help but stare down at it. Reaching for it, you wrap a hand around it, marvelling at how hard it is.
"You ever say my name?" You wonder, though you already know the answer.
"I don't think either of us would be here right now if I did," He teases, biting his lip when you begin to rub his cock, up and down.
"You fuck other girls often?"
His eyes flicker up to yours. "No," He answers. "Feel special?"
A smile pulls at your lips while he laughs at you. Pre-cum dribbles out of his cock. He takes it back from you and brings it to your pussy, rubbing it up and down your folds, pressing the tip to your clit. It feels surreal.
"We shouldn't," You say with furrowed brows. "Not sex. Not actual sex."
"What difference does it make at this point?" Bucky asks you with a scoff.
"It's different," You argue, not sure what you mean yourself.
"Well, I'm fucking something tonight," He states firmly. "Would you rather that be your face?"
He sees it - the way your eyes light up. The way your chest rises a little faster. He hears the hitch in your breath and he feels your clit throb against his cock.
Smirking, Bucky nods. "Fuckin' slut. Hang off the bed, I'll fuck your face, if that's what you want."
It doesn't take much to convince you. Within moments, your head's hanging off the side of the bed and Bucky's standing behind you. He slips his cock between your lips, holding your head in place, and doesn't give you much warning before he starts fucking in and out of your throat. Immediately, you gag, but he doesn't let up.
"That's it, fuckin' take it," He mutters through gritted teeth. "Knew you'd take my cock like a good girl. Knew you'd be such a good fucktoy for me."
Your legs squeeze together, you're wetter than ever. Your inner thighs are coated.
"Touch yourself," Bucky instructs you. "I know you wanna. Show me how you do it when you fantasize about me railing you."
He only lets you rub your clit for a few seconds before he moves your hand away. Leaning down, he replaces your fingers with his tongue, lapping at your cunt. Your toes curl as your hips move upwards, humping against his face. His nose brushes through your folds as he sucks on your clit, continuing to fuck your face.
It doesn't take you long to cum again, and he holds your shaking legs down as you do.
"Cum so fuckin' easy for me," Bucky mumbles as he stands up, pulling his cock out of your throat with a string of saliva following.
He grabs your arm and pulls you up to your knees on the bed before taking your chin in his hand and pulling your face closer to his. He gives you a deep kiss, holding your body against his, kneading your ass with his hands.
"Rookie," He utters against your lips before slapping your pussy. "Let me fuck you, baby."
You let out a groan, throwing your head back. He takes the opportunity to kiss on your neck. "Sergeant Barnes," You whisper. "It wouldn't be appropriate for you to have sex with a trainee."
"I'm teaching you," He says against your neck. "That's what I'm here for."
"I don't need to learn how to have sex," You point out.
Bucky moves back to look at you. "You need to learn how to take your Sergeant's cock when he needs you," He says bluntly. "You need to learn how to be a good stress toy for me. A nice little fleshlight for me to take on missions, use you when I need to cum."
You shouldn't be, but you're horrifically turned on by his words. His arrogance and perversion only makes you crave him more.
"Just the tip?" He asks with a whisper.
With a roll of your eyes, you wrap your hand around his throat. "Just the tip," You agree.
He lays you down on your side, facing him, and picks up your leg to rest it on his hip. Bringing his cock to your entrance, Bucky meets your eyes with his, taking in a deep breath. "I'm- I'll try my best to-"
"Just the fuckin' tip," You cut him off curtly. "Not an inch more."
"If you say so," He says with a smirk before slowly pushing his cock into you, stopping once the tip is in.
Frustrated with the lack of stimulation, you let out a huff. "A little more," You request.
He does his best to hold back a smug laugh. Giving you another couple of inches, Bucky lets out a low groan. "Fuck. Baby, c'mon," He whispers, almost whining.
"More," You say, unable to help yourself. Fuck morals. You've already gone too far. "Just- just put it all in, Buck."
He immediately gives you all of him as sook as the request leaves your mouth, stretching you open. You look down, shivering when you see him inside you, wondering if you're dreaming.
Bucky pushes you onto your back and moves on top of you, pinning your arms down. "I've thought about this a lot," He admits with a mumble, still not moving his hips. "About fucking your brains out. Railing you 'til you can't think straight."
You're pretty sure you entered can't think straight territory the second you got into bed with him. "I haven't been thinking straight since I met you," You tell him, making him chuckle.
"You're so fuckin' cute, rookie," He says, before ever so slightly pulling out and thrusting back into you again.
You suck in a gasp as your back arches up. "Are we doing this?" You ask him with a whisper.
"Isn't it too late to be asking that?" He retorts with a raised brow. "Or do you really think you'd be able to tell me to stop right now?"
You think about it. Could you? Would you be able to stop and go to sleep, like nothing happened? Like he wasn't just balls-deep in you? Do you have any self-control at all?
"Just... just the tip," You repeat, realizing how pathetic you sound.
"What's the fucking difference?" He asks with a dry laugh.
"Then it's not actual sex," You argue. "Then we haven't done anything wrong."
Bucky raises a brow. "You really think that?"
You stare up into his eyes. "Yes."
Slowly, he pulls out again, and you take a moment to savor the feeling of having him fully inside you, knowing you may never get it again.
"You're killing me, rookie," He groans as he looks down at his cock, covered in your slick. "How the fuck am I supposed to do this?"
You wrap your hand around his shaft and start stroking it, up and down.
"Can you even feel anything?" Bucky asks you between heavy breaths. "Slut like you, probably used to getting railed."
"Fuck you," You whisper.
"Let me fuck you," He requests, leaning down until you can feel his breath on your neck. "Let me fuck you 'til you can't breathe. Let me make that pussy sore, let me make you fuckin' limp back to the jet in the morning."
"Bucky," You whine lowly, knowing there's no going back. "...Fuck me."
A smirk pulls at his lips and he's relieved - a small part of him thought you might actually stop this. With your go-ahead, Bucky wastes no time. He starts moving his hips, fucking in and out of you, groaning under his breath.
"Shit," He mutters before grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your stomach. With a spank to your ass, he settles on top of you, resting his head on your neck as he thrusts into you.
"Just like that," You cry out, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets.
"Your pussy takes me so well," Bucky groans into your ear. "Better than I imagined it."
Turning your head to the side, you laugh. "You imagined it?"
"Every fucking night," He answers you straight away.
"When you're fucking her?" You ask, nervous by the silence that follows.
His thrusts slow, but they don't stop. For a second, you're afraid you've offended him. That you've crossed some invisible line by mentioning her.
"When I'm fucking her, when I close my eyes, I imagine it's you," He says lowly, bluntly. "I fuck her throat and wonder if yours would feel like that. I eat her out and wonder how you'd taste. She rides my cock and I- I want it to be your ass bouncing on me." He flips you back over onto your back, pulls out his dick and taps it on your stomach a couple of times before slipping it back into you. "And now, I finally know what it's like."
"And?" You push, holding your breath as he fills you up.
He leans down, bringing his lips to yours and mutters, "Better."
There's passion in it. An intense passion you've never felt during sex before. You've been in love with sexual partners, you've been infatuated with them, but you've never felt this. Maybe it's because it's inherently wrong - what you're doing goes against every value you claim to uphold. Bucky's your senior; he shouldn't be taking advantage of the power he has over you. Not only that, but he's unavailable.
It makes you feel special. He's risking it all for you - his respect among the team, his relationship with the woman he supposedly loves. If it became public knowledge that Bucky Barnes was a cheater, he'd lose all the love from the people of America that he just about managed to earn.
But he doesn't care. This intimacy with you is worth more than all that - at least during this moment.
He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back. His eyes remain burning into yours, and you know he has no plans of pulling out. You have no plans of asking him to.
"Feel so good around me," He groans lowly, stroking your hips. "Such a good girl for me. Taking it so well, making me so proud."
His words light up a spot in you that you didn't know existed. He can tell.
With a small smile, he places a soft kiss to your cheek. "That's it, baby. My good girl, fuck. Keep taking it just like that, I'm so fuckin' proud of you."
"Bucky," You gasp, feeling it build up.
"Shh, it's okay, I've got you," He coos, quickening his thrusts. "Make daddy proud."
It's all too much - the gentleness, how wrong this is - in seconds, you're cumming and there are tears pouring from your eyes.
"Atta girl, just like that," Bucky groans, cupping your face in his hands. "Ready to take my cum, baby?"
"Please," You sob, gripping tightly onto his shoulders.
"It's yours, my baby," He moans as he lets go, cumming deep inside you. "Oh, fuck. Take it all, baby, fuck."
He keeps fucking you until he can't anymore, both of you oversensitive after your highs. Bucky falls next to you and you stare up at the ceiling, breathing heavily.
A few incoherent mumbles escape his mouth as he comes down. Before you can say a word, he turns off the lamp, flooding the room in darkness. A kiss is placed to your shoulder just as exhaustion takes you over.
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bucky masterlist // main masterlist
part two >
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sadeyedsugar · 7 months
Text
pressure.
housewife!reader x handyman!ellie
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cw : 18+ mdni // afab!reader, infidelity, swearing, shower sex, rough sex, inaccurate plumbing descriptions lmfao // not proofread
an : this was birthed from this ask I got and it was supposed to be a tiny baby smut drabble and now it’s this ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡ but yay for me I’m out of my writing slump- also I do not whatsoever condone cheating, but the housewife fucking the help trope always get me I’m sorry, sue me. Also divider creds here. happy reading - sincerely, sugar ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚
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“So can you fix it?”
Ellie turned her head at the sound of your sweet voice, like a siren song that had been tempting her all afternoon.
She was hooked from the minute she heard it over the phone, sounding distressed as you explained that the water from your shower head was no longer flowing. She felt her throat get dry as you spoke about how you desperately needed some stress relief. How you needed the pressure. And when she showed up at you door a half hour later, Ellie knew she was completely and totally fucked.
“Ellie…?”
She jolted and internally slapped herself for gawking at you and fantasizing about shit she knew she couldn’t have.
“Shit sorry, yeah, it’s a simple issue! Your pressure valve is cracked. I have a replacement in my kit that should fit, so I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
A soft pout graced your lips as you played nervously with the hem of your fluffy cardigan sleeve, “that’s a shame. Kinda like having someone around the house.”
Ellie flushed at your words and quickly turned back- she was here to work not flirt. But, fuck, were you making it hard.
“You’re a lifesaver,” you continued, tentatively walking into the bathroom and perching on the toilet seat, “my wife usually does this sort of thing, but she’s been gone a lot recently.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm- work trips. Sometimes for weeks at a time.” You sighed.
“You must miss her a lot,” Ellie sympathized, while she screwed a bolt back into place. You remained silent, chewing on your lip, guilt evident on your face but sadness overwhelming in your eyes.
“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?” Ellie teased.
Your frown deepened, “my marriage is…far from paradise- used to be perfect, until my wife started fucking every fresh-out-of-undergrad intern she met at every single one of her firm’s international offices.”
Ellie dropped her wrench at your blunt statement and you giggled softly. “Sorry that was way too much information. God, I’m such a cliche- bored housewife bothering anyone that gives her a molecule of attention.” You blurted, laughing awkwardly.
“Hey,” Ellie felt her heart tug in sympathy for you. She sat on the edge of the tub and touched your thigh affectionately, “you’re not a cliche. I’m genuinely sorry about all the shit with your wife.”
She smiled at you as she stood up, wiping her dirty hands on her work clothes. Then she twisted the knob on the shower until water started to stream out, hot and heavy, just how you liked it.
“Oh my god! Thank you so much!” You cried, clutching her bicep in excitement. “This months water bill is gonna be sooo high.”
Ellie chuckled as she flipped the water back off, trying not to focus on the searing heat shocking it’s way up through her body at your touch. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Is there anything I can do to repay you?” You said. You were laying the hints on so thick, it was bordering on desperate, but Ellie was by far the most attractive women you’ve ever seen and you needed her. Badly.
“We’ve got you card on file! No need for anything else.”
You blinked up at her, running your manicured fingernail across the sharp line of her jaw and Ellie felt a shiver wrack through her. “You sure?”
You two were too close now, nothing could’ve stopped what was happening. Ellie second guessed herself as your lips brushed against hers, not yet a kiss, but just as debilitating to her self control. You were married- Ellie had even seen your wedding pictures framed on her way in. But, you weren’t happy. Why she always found herself in these situations she’d never know. Always playing the knight in shining armor role, she’d never know. But what she did know, was that you were devastatingly gorgeous and her boxers were growing damper by the second.
“Fuck it-” Ellie crashed her lips with yours and you let out a sigh of contentment. Finally.
She kissed you with such vigor that your back was slammed against the wall with the force of it, her big hands gripping your hips as she tasted your mouth.
She trailed her lips down your neck, palming your tits and you felt your nipples tighten in pleasure. Your mouth hung open at how good it felt to finally be touched after months of cold nights in bed, missing your wife- and hating yourself for it.
Ellie pulled back, taking you in, and suppressed a moan- you looked wrecked: eyes blow out, lips swollen, thighs pressing together in your tight little yoga pants. “Have to make this quick babe, I got another job in 20 minutes.” Ellie said, though her words didn’t match her eyes. She was looking at you like she wanted to take her sweet time tearing you apart.
You nodded your head jerkily, “I have an idea.”
You clutched your cardigan and pulled it over your head in one swift motion, revealing your stunning bare chest. Your tits jumped with each heavy breath of anticipation you took, effectively hypnotizing Ellie.
“Fuck. Yes. Whatever it is. Yes,” she said, scrambling to take off her coveralls and dirty wifebeater.
You stripped down the rest of the way, leaving a trail of clothing leading to the shower. You turned the knobs, and stepped beneath the cascade of water, beckoning an eager Ellie to join you. Once she did, you could’ve came instantly, the wet slide of her body on yours and the toe curling image of her lithe muscles dripping and glistening with water.
“Let’s put my hard work to use, yeah?” She said, flipping you and tugging your back against her firm chest.
You whimpered from the aggression, head too fuzzy to focus on anything but her hands on your body, “huh?”
Ellie grinned at your fucked-out confusion, before grabbing the shower head. She trailed it over your chest first, watching delighted as the rainfall setting made you shiver. Then she trailed the head down to the heat between your thighs and your knees immediately buckled.
“Oh fuck-” you twisted your head into Ellie as she pressed the shower head deeper and harder against your pussy.
“God you’re sensitive, your wife never make you feel this good?”
You shook your head jerkily, clutching desperately onto Ellie’s forearm, holding on for dear life as the shower head’s stream abused your cunt.
“Yeah? You like that huh, the pressure strong enough for you baby?” She teased, but all your comebacks were gone, your brain was mush, all you could think about was Ellie. Ellie. Ellie.
She knew you were close when your hips started uncontrollably bucking up into her hand, and she could see a few tears mixing with the drool and sweat and shower water.
“You close, angel?”
You nodded, “Please, I need it Ellie. Need to come, please, please, pl-“
Ellie smirked at your begging, and then she switched the nozzle to jet stream and your jaw instantly dropped into a silent scream, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy. Ellie didn’t let up, she comforted you through your orgasm but made sure the water pulsed right into your clit, holding you against her chest tightly so you couldn’t escape the pleasure. “I know, I know- that’s it baby.” You tried to push her hand away weakly, but she held firm. “Just gimme one more, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”
You nodded your head and leaned back into her, trusted Ellie to take care of you. She switched the nozzle again to the massage setting, and soon the water was shooting out in tight periodic streams, battering your already sensitive clit, working you up again and edging you closer to a second orgasm. It wasn’t the pressure that sent you over the edge in the end, but the feeling of Ellie grinding her clit against your ass- knowing she was using you to get off, so enamored by the image of teary eyed and blissed out against her, it was all too much. You came so hard the darkness behind your eyelids burst with light, and the only thing tethering you to this plane was Ellie’s heaving breath in your ear as she came right alongside you.
She switched off the shower head, thumping back against the tiles in exhaustion. She held your shaking form in her arms, rubbing your back as you came down from your high.
“Fuck- that was…”
“Incredible? Amazing? The best sex you’ve ever had?” You offered, voice still hoarse from all the screaming.
She laughed, and shook her head, “you’re lucky you’re cute- where’d all that cockiness come from angel?”
“I’m right though.”
Ellie rolled her eyes, and then dipped her head down to kiss you sweetly. Butterflies started to swarm in your tummy at the gentleness. What the fuck?
“Yeah, you are.” She agreed. “So uh… I was thinking maybe one day we could go out for-”
The sound of keys made both of your freeze. Your eyes widened in shock.
“What the f-”
“Shhh!” You slammed a hand over her mouth. Ellie resisted the urge to lick it, knowing this was a serious situation.
You both heard the heavy swoop of the front door swinging open downstairs. Your stomach dropped.
“Honey?” Your wife’s voice called, “I’m home early. Surprise! Where are you bunny?”
Fuck.
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part II (coming soon)
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politemenacephd · 2 months
Text
Lost at Sea (+18)
💙 Merman!Miguel O'Hara X GN!Reader 💙
After your neglectful partner lets you nearly drown in a storm, you are rescued by an unexpected party: a merman named Miguel, who offers to help heal you. TW: Near drowning, possible thalassophobia, mentions of past emotionally abusive partner.
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💙 Contents: Monster/human relationship, Forbidden romance, Mutual pining, Size difference, Kissing and heavy petting, Cock warming, PinV sex, Underwater sex, Double penetration, Autoerotic asphyxiation, Creampie.
💙 Notes: Holy shit I got way too invested in this one lmao, enjoy
💙 Word count: 7,400
‘God… damn it! CAN YOU GET UP HERE AND HELP—’
Your words were torn from your mouth by the relentless wind as it buffered your skin. The harsh sea salt had cracked your lips and dulled your skin, leaving your cheeks raw and red, and your hands were growing tired from hauling rope.
You were alone on the deck of a tiny ship sailing right into an inferno, and you had no idea what to do.
Your asshole partner had insisted that you go out on their new boat. It’d clearly been an attempt to just show off. You couldn’t get a word in edgewise as they blabbered about their new toy, and eventually you’d just been worn down into going.
You’d tried to warn them about the weather. You’d tried to show them your phone, which clearly indicated that a storm was rolling in midafternoon, but they were too pompous to listen. As always.
You’d agreed to just go a little way out into the cove to see how it ran. They’d made you sit with your hands in your lap while they steered, because clearly you were too clumsy and naïve to touch anything on their precious vessel. You bit down your complaints and tried to enjoy it while you could.
And then, of course, they’d pushed it too far. They’d gone too far from the coast in an attempt to show off.
You’d watched the sky turning from pale blue to a foreboding grey, the clouds growing dark like a bruise on the horizon. Over and over you’d said to turn back, and over and over you’d been told the same thing: You were overreacting, you were petty, you were just trying to ruin this for them.
It was only when the first spatters of rain began to hit the deck that they’d finally decided to turn around, and their stubbornness had cost you dearly. The storm had rolled in faster than you could turn the vessel around. The beach was still just a blurry line in the distance, and the storm was threatening to throw you to the sea’s mercy.
Despite their previous snide comments about you not touching anything, they were currently below deck somewhere while you were struggling to hunker down the sails so you didn’t overturn.
‘Where—are they, fuck—Would you PLEASE help!’
Your desperate cry echoed against the thundering of rain overhead, but there was no reply. You could see the light was on downstairs. You knew they were there, could they really care about you so little?
‘I’m trying to batten everything down! Just hold on!’ Their voice floated out from behind the closed door. It only served to distract you from your job, as you still could barely hear what they were saying.
‘WHAT?’ you cried.
‘I’m battening down!’
‘BATTENING WHAT DOWN?!’
‘Just—’
A fresh gust of wind unsteadied your feet, and the rope slipped from your hands. The sail above was caught by the storm and began to turn the ship faster than you could keep up with.
‘S-Shit, no, no come on—’
You felt your feet slipping on the cold wood. The spray was blinding your sight.
‘Shit… shit—’
You clung to the rope as hard as you could, but when the next wave came in it slipped. Your knot hadn’t been tight enough. To your horror your feet were entirely swept out from underneath you.
‘HELP! HELP!’
You hit the deck and felt the wind knocked from your lungs. You tried to stand but the storm was faster than you, and as you squirmed on the wet deck your body began to slide. You rolled across the slippery wood right towards the edge.
‘No, NO—HEY! HEY! HEL—’
You didn’t even get a second chance to call for help.
You were flung down into the ocean with your stabilizing rope snaking after you into the blackened abyss, and the last thing you saw was your partners silhouette in the single lit window.
The water was freezing as it hit you. You sank down easy into the dark and the chaos.
You thrashed. You clawed. You squirmed and exploded bubbles from your maw, but your clothes were weighing you down, and the storm kept whipping waves over your head every time you even vaguely breached the surface. You got three or four good breathes in before you were swallowing sea water, and your arms were too tired to keep you afloat.
You kept thinking they’d save you. You kept thinking they’d come. But you just, kept, sinking.
Down, down, where the storm sounds were dulled to nothing. Where the world was a weightless, crushing void of indigo. Down to the unknown.
You couldn’t hear, couldn’t see. Your body drifted into the darkness.
But you could have sworn, right before you lost consciousness, that you felt someone grab you.
You woke slowly to the sound of sea birds.
One thought immediately filled your fuzzy mind. You were alive?
You blinked your eyes only to find them slightly crusty with salt. You had to wipe them clean with your wrist, and as you moved that you realized how sore you were. You were cold and stiff, your ankle swollen, but you were alive. How on earth were you alive?
You blinked your eyes a few more times until the crust broke, and with a low moan you began to take in your surroundings.
You were inside a gaping cave, a huge, jagged opening in the side of the bay. You assumed it must be the same bay you’d initially left from and not another since the rock was the exact same colour. There was water gently lapping at your side, water shallow enough to give you a view of the rock beneath. It was faintly pink, covered in barnacles and filled with seaweed and rocks.
A rockpool. You were in a rockpool cave.
You could feel something soft beneath you, which felt strange considering where you were. When you shifted your fingers, you realized that you were laying in a bed of wet kelp and moss atop a rock. Was this, natural?
You winced as you tried to move. The odds of you surviving like this were just non-existent, right? To have been swept into a safe cave, without hitting any rocks on the way, and all in enough time that you hadn’t drowned? It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. This was unfathomable. There had to be another explanation.
‘Are you awake?’
You jumped at the sound of a stranger’s voice echoing through the cave. It was deep, husky, cold. It wasn’t like any voice you’d ever heard before. You winced for a second time as you tried to roll, and the stranger spoke again.
‘Careful—careful, you’re hurt.’
‘Who—’
You shuffled onto your elbow and peered out towards the caves opening, trying desperately to see who was here. Was it some passerby who stumbled in, or perhaps a coastguard who’d tracked you? Perhaps your luck was turning after all.
But, there was no one at the cave mouth. You frowned, at first, until you felt the breath. Hot, warm breath, stirring your neck. You turned around and yelped.
Beside you was a man. Or at least, part of a man.
Deep red eyes peered at you from beneath a mop of long, thick, dark brown hair, hair that lay is braided strands around his neck and shoulders. He was muscled and broad, his skin brown and calloused by old scars. You could see salt crystals hanging from those thick locks about his shoulders, and it appeared that his skin had been painted or tattooed with smooth neon red lines.
He was a pretty man, a rugged creature of the sea, but he had strangely kind eyes. You could see his unkempt brows were raised in an attempt to seem unthreatening. By all means, if you’d met him in any other scenario, you would have simply been too shy to say a word. You would have been smitten, not frightened.
It was what lay beneath his muscled waist that scared you.
His pelvis gave way to a gargantuan torso, one that resembled the body of a large fish. His tail was long, its skin glimmering a deep and jewel-like navy blue, ending a taper that was decorating with a huge, fluttery, blood red tail, one that crinkled and rippled like fabric. You saw his little fleshy fins, his smooth spines, all glittering with little beads of water.
His fish half was floating idly in the deeper pool while his human torso clung to the rock you were perched on. His eyes were fixed on you, and he had you surrounded.
‘Ah… Y-you—’
‘How do you feel?’
The man’s voice came out gruff as he interrupted your stuttering.
‘I… I’m—’ You tried to speak but struggled to get a single word out. You were paralyzed by a mixture of fear and confusion.
‘You’re… scared, yes?’ the man said in a lower tone. He was trying to sound soft, to sound confident, but it was hard to underplay the powerful image of this otherworldly monster lying across your only way of escape.
‘Y…. y—’
‘I won’t hurt you’ he said slowly. He was clearly a little impatient, a little stiff, but he was trying. ‘I won’t.’
‘You, wont?’ you stammered. The man nodded.
‘I could have hurt you many times before now. I haven’t.’
When your eyes widened in horror the man suddenly sighed, realizing a little too late how that his example was less than comforting. ‘What I mean is, just- I won’t hurt you. I do not plan to hurt you, which is why, I haven’t. Okay? I swear’ he elaborated.
‘What- What are you?’ you said, your voice quivering. He shifted his enormous tail.
‘I’m- me’ he grunted.
‘Yo… what- what does that mean? What are you?!’ You repeated again.
The man tilted his head. ‘Is this, the shock, talking?’ he asked. It was hard to tell if he was being deliberately sarcastic or just struggling to give off a genuinely concerned tone, which certainly threw you off. ‘I, truly can’t tell. Do you want me to answer that genuinely?’
‘Y… You’re, um- you’re, real?’ you said, both a statement and a question. At that he unexpectedly broke into a dumbfounded smile, one that looked comforting on his weather-worn face.
‘Ah. It is the shock, then. I am real, yes. I am—’
‘You’re ah, uh—you’re a, merman’ you stammered. His smile softened as his eyes darted about your face.
‘Yes’ he said softly. ‘Yes, there you go.’
You began to murmur to yourself as you drew up your knees. ‘I’m…. I-I’m sorry, I—’
‘No need to apologize. I’m automatically wary around humans, but, you are… Not exactly a threat.’
‘I… No. I’m, not a threat’ you dumbly replied. You noticed the smile lines by his eyes grow deeper before he coughed to cover them up.
‘Hm. My name is, Miguel, if that helps’ he grunted. He seemed a little uncomfortable being so personable, but he was trying his best to ease your fear. It worked. Slowly you began to relax.
‘Hi’ you mumbled back, ‘I uh… My name is, Y/N.’
You noticed his tail flicking slightly in the deeper pool, causing ripples to dance across its surface towards you. ‘A pleasure to meet you’ Miguel replied in that cold but gentle voice, ‘if only it was under better circumstances.’
‘W- Where, um- can I ask, where am I?’ you panted.
‘You certainly can, you just did. You’re close to shore. You’re by the beach which extends towards the docks from which I assume you left. It’s low tide right now so, if you follow to the right you’ll get back to the beach. I’m, unsure if you can walk though, due to your ankle, and… unfortunately I cannot swim you out yet with the low water. Later, though, I will, when the tide comes back. That was my plan.’
As Miguel gave his monotone recital of your situation, your mind drifted elsewhere. One niggling thought kept bothering you.
‘You… did, you—did you rescue me?’ you asked. It felt a dumb question, but you were truly dumbfounded by this whole situation.
To your surprise, Miguel immediately nodded. ‘Yes. I did. I sensed the ship in the storm and went to check it, and I found you struggling beneath the waves. I hoisted you above the water and… well, I feel I must apologize to you.’
Miguel paused and rubbed his thickset jaw. It was hard to see his face in the dark, but, did he look ashamed?
‘I tried to take you directly to the docks but… With the storm, it was extremely busy. There were sailors trying to cover their vessels all over the board, and—well. I could not risk myself being seen. I brought you here so that I could shield you from the waves without being seen.’
‘No that… that’s, fine’ you mumbled. ‘I mean, I’m grateful you saved me at all. I really… really, thought I was going to die there.’
‘It’s nothing. You’re safe now. Though, I have to ask, why did you go out alone in the first place?’ he asked.
You blinked. ‘Why—what do you mean?’
‘Why did you go out into the storm, on the ship, alone? You’re in shock right now but… You don’t, seem like the kind to be that, risky, to put it nicely’ he repeated.
Immediately your brows furrowed. You remembered it all then; your asshole partner taking you out, forcing you to deal with the ship from the outside as the storm you had predicted would roll in did inevitably roll in. Had they even done anything to save you? Had they even noticed?
Miguel tilted his head at your expression. ‘What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Uh—no, it’s not your fault. Sorry. I wasn’t on the ship alone, and it wasn’t my choice. My, partner, I guess, wanted to go out and I didn’t want to start a fight by refusing. I knew there was a storm but they… didn’t- Ah, fuck- they didn’t listen to me.’
It felt strange saying partner at this point. In your head you certainly weren’t thinking of them the same way you used to. Really, you hadn’t thought of them like that for a while.
You slumped a little on the moss. ‘Ah… fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m gonna have to deal with that when I go back.’
Miguel didn’t say a thing at first. He just lay back and watched you writhe with patient eyes, until he noticed your foot impatiently tapping.
‘You seem… tense’ he murmured.
You tried desperately to look away.
‘Is it the pain?’ he asked. You shook your head.
‘No, I don’t—’ You tried to draw up your knees to your chest but you winced the second your ankle moved. You got too embarrassed and let it slide back down. ‘I don’t… want to go back.’
Miguel blinked again. ‘Why not?’
‘What do I have to go back to?’ you said with a slightly sad laugh. ‘That—asshole? Who left me on the ship, who let me fall overboard? I’m sure I’ll go back and, I’ll either get chewed out like this was my fault or I’ll get smothered with worry and guilt tripping until I internalize that it WAS my fault, and either I stay with them in that shitty cycle or- or I leave, and, I try to figure shit out.’
You tapped your foot violently at the thought. ‘No. I’m not going back to them. Not again. I- I can’t. I WON’T. And, in that case… I got, nothing. No home, no- friends out here, no real assets just… ah. Fucckk.’
You hiccupped into an awkward finish, and after that you were too ashamed to continue talking.
Miguel sat with you in silence. In the silence you could hear the slippery smooth sound of his skin as his tail coiled and shifted beneath the water, mixed with the dripping of water from above. It was terribly tense.
‘Okay. We’ll, wait.’
You were surprised by his blunt dismissal. You were sure that this creature would want to be rid of you, or would complain about your attitude, but, he seemed unphased. At least, he seemed unphased. His face was so hard to read.
‘Would you like me to check your ankle, then?’ he asked, gesturing to the swollen inflamed pound above your foot. You blinked. Wait, he was worried about you?’
‘Y- uh, sure. I’m not sure what you can do for it though.’
Miguel carefully angled his tail and slid forward until his torso was right next to your own, allowing his hands to find your ankle.
‘Mm… I’ll, try not to hurt you’ he murmured. You nodded, and slowly he began to feel over the swelling. You shuddered the moment you felt his hand. God, his hands felt good. Strong, calloused, worn, warm. It was a new feeling to be gripped by something like that.
You realized, then, that the clothes you’d been wearing were gone. They must have been stripped off in the storm? Either way, you were wearing nothing but the one-piece bathing suit you’d been wearing beneath them.
If Miguel had noticed he didn’t say anything. He continued stroking over the soft bump in your ankle with diligent eyes. ‘It doesn’t look like it’s broken’ he muttered to himself. ‘Which is… good.’
To your internal horror, you felt your cheeks growing warm. He was ever, ever so pretty, and so gentle. He didn’t look like he should be this gentle.
His breath hit your shoulder as he worked, and against your better judgement you leaned into it. It felt… nice. For something so cold, so wet, he was so human too. Your body continued to lean in until you realized that you were practically nestled into the crook of his neck.
You looked up, and your eyes met. He glanced down at your face with slightly raised brows.
‘Mm?’
‘Ah—sorry, I’m- I’m tired’ you stammered, forcing yourself up. He didn’t approach you nor rebuff you; he simple chuckled, his lips turned into an adorable half smile. He looked old beyond his years, you thought. 
‘It’s fine. You can rest if you must.’
You felt the heat growing deeper. You coughed with pursed lips and turned to stare at the wall. ‘No, no, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.’
You hadn’t realized how touch starved you were. You hadn’t been treated kindly in far too long, and this one basic gesture was causing you to overflow. He was very, very pretty. Really pretty. It really didn’t help the situation, just how pretty he was. God, it was all you could think about. You just kept letting it go around and around in your mind.
Pretty, pretty, rugged sea beast.
‘Your partner.’
You jumped back into the moment at the sound of his voice. ‘Ah- yeah? What- what about them?’
‘Mm. That’s a very telling response’ he noted. You shuddered as he continued to massage your ankle.
‘I—Sorry, I didn’t mean to be snippy.’
‘That’s not what I meant’ he grunted.
‘Well… Then- can you just, say what you meant then?’ you said. He glanced at you again.
‘I wanted to ask you about it. You sounded distressed.’
‘I… I mean, yeah, I am. You don’t have to worry about that though.’
‘I know I don’t. I just am. They sounded… Cruel, the way you described them’ Miguel noted as he rubbed at your ankle. You gave a sad grunt of a laugh.
‘Mm. Cruel, I guess it- I used to hate when people said that, because it made me… It made me feel stupid, I guess, for downplaying things that they apparently so easily spotted as unfair or bad or toxic.’
‘If they were- controlling you, I fail to see how it was your fault’ he noted. ‘You clearly didn’t like it, but, it sounds like you had no other choice.’
‘Mm. You’re very astute for a fish.’
He snorted a laugh, his lip tilting at the corner. ‘Mm. I’m human too, you know. I understand loneliness. I understand it well.’
‘Are there not many others like you?’ you asked curiously.
His hand squeezed the upper part of your leg to test for tenderness and you shivered. He took note. ‘Not really. The ocean is big, there’s a lot of- empty space. Sometimes we travel in packs but… that is, unusual. We only really gather to mate. I usually drift by myself.’
‘Huh, so uh- I guess you do have, what I assume is quite a bit of experience with love then’ you gently teased.
His tilted smile turned sad. ‘Oh, no. I have been… unsuccessful in love. It’s been a long time since I managed to find a mate. A long, long time. I, more or less stopped bothering.’
‘Y—wait, really? You? How?’
He glanced up and you immediately baulked at how overt you’d been. ‘I mean—I—’
‘Are you, implying I’m attractive?’ he asked. You tried to look away but it was so hard, with those big red eyes and those full, rough lips. You swallowed hard.
‘Ah… I mean, objectively, yes. You’re, a very attractive man’ you said, placing desperate emphasis on the word ‘objective’.
His smile had vanished, seemingly out of shock, but it came back as he observed your awkwardness. He didn’t seem used to smiling. ‘Huh. Well, mil gracias. That’s kind of you to say.’
You smiled and turned to silently sitting, and as he continued his work, he intentionally began to get closer.
Behind his calm expression, Miguel was sweating. He was petrified you’d realize that his brushing of your ankle was just a ploy, an excuse, to remain close to your soft little body.
He couldn’t let you see how his eyes lit up when he saw your face. He couldn’t let you see how warm his cold, scaley body felt in your presence.
He’d seen so many humans in his life, and none sparked such excitement in him. You’d fallen down into his world like an angel from heaven, a gift from Poseidon right into his arms, and even though you’d been barely lucid when he held you above the stormy waves he could have sworn you’d seen him.
Your exhausted body had clung to him as he kept you safe. You’d nestled into his chest, your arms around his neck, and you’d whispered. You’d whispered, ‘thank you’. You’d whispered, ‘beautiful’.
He didn’t know if you remembered that. It seemed that you didn’t. Still, part of him was praying you’d remember.
His eyes drifted from your ankle to the cut of your swimsuit where it clung to your skin. He watched your hips shift, your chest heave as you breathed. He felt that soft, primal thud of his heart, and looked away.
‘When you eventually return to the land, what do you think you’ll do?’ Miguel asked, trying to bury his interest in small talk. His torso was now pressed in at your side with your faces turned in opposite directions.
You sighed. ‘I got no idea. No idea. I guess I’ll have to just… figure it out, right? I’ll have to find a new place, try to- get my stuff back I guess. It’s gonna be exhausting but, what else can I do, yanno? It’s just… Whatever. It’s a part of life. Man, I’m not looking forward to tryna figure out dating again.’
‘Do you think, you’ll begin looking for a new mate quickly?’ Miguel asked. His eye turned a little to try and catch your eye.
‘Mate. Huh. As weird as it sounds… I kind of, want to move on’ you mused. ‘I want the, confirmation that it’s over, that I can move on and proof that there’s better out there.’
You didn’t notice the way Miguel’s tail began to whip in the water. His hands drifted up your leg.
‘That’s understandable. Well, don’t worry about that right now. You may stay with me as long as you wish’ he said.
You chuckled. ‘What, are you suggestin—’
You turned, again, and this time you found yourself nose to nose with Miguel.
That single, simple moment hit you like a wave breaking on shore. It was the sudden realization that you felt something. Something tangible. Something, real.
Yearning. A deep, basal yearning in your loins that were pulsing with your blood, one that seemed to palpitate outside your body. It was as if it was physically coiling around you both, like your joint curiosity was manifesting.
You blinked. Miguel’s eyes darted over your face, almost like he was looking for something. You tried to breathe but it caught in your throat, and immediately his eyes widened. He’d found what he was hoping for, praying for.
‘Are you okay?’ he murmured. You dumbly nodded.
‘A-Ahuh…’
‘You, seem… a little, breathless’ he noted. You couldn’t even respond. For a tense minute you were both silent, nose to nose with your lips barely an inch apart. Neither of you would move.
‘Most… people, wouldn’t let me get this close’ he said after a while. He was testing the waters. ‘Even after saving them.’
‘T… They wouldn’t?’
‘No.’
Your chest heaved and brushed his own giant pecs, briefly giving a taste of skin on skin. The way your eyelids fluttered drew him closer. That throbbing in your loins get harder, stronger. His breathing got faster.
‘I can… move back, if you want’ he asked. That simple question was dripping with a million layers of nuance.
‘N… No, it’s fine’ you replied. He swallowed, and you watched his adams apple jolt. When he spoke again you felt it hit your face.
‘Is it, just, fine?’ he asked. His deep voice had dipped.
Your whole body shuddered.
‘You will have heard rumours, I’m sure’ he said softly. ‘About, dangerous fish men. Otherworldly merpeople, come to the shore to grab innocent people who they drag away for- unsavoury purposes.’
As he spoke you peered around his shoulder, watching the way his tail flicked. It hit you how huge he was in that moment. With his tail he was nearly twice the size of your body. Your eyes rolled back with a soft pant, and the first thing you saw was the fangs glinting behind his parted lips.
‘Those poor people. What they always fail to mention, is that they all come willingly.’ His voice had dipped to a whisper, and it was making you tremble. He could almost smell the need in you.
‘These poor, unwanted people, whose shoulders grow heavy from the weight of the world, they yearn for the sea. It is, weightless. It is, free. Erotic.’
As he spoke your body slid down the slimy rocks into the warm pool, and just as he’d described, you began to float. Your body lost all tension as he helped hold you up beneath the gently lapping water.
‘But it is…. Lonely. The ocean is vast, and it is empty, and it is cold. And some of us… Can’t help but yearn for the warmth of your people. Your, hot blood, your little bodies. The warmth of your, lost, and weary, who would maybe understand us.’
His breath hit your ear, and you felt it in him too. That same loneliness. That same yearning.
‘I have not touched another soul in a long time’ he whispered. ‘I would be… grateful, to relieve myself, with you. I will happily set you free too.’
‘Please.’
You blurted the word without thinking, and despite the desperation in your voice he seemed to sense that. He didn’t move any closer. He held himself about an inch away, with his lips by your ear and his long, slippery body gently wrapped around your own.
‘Do you wish to taste something different?’ he whispered.
‘Yes’ you panted. The tension inside you was growing painful. ‘Yes, yes.’
‘Do you long for the sea?’ he purred.
‘Yes—’
‘Do you long for me?’
His pelvis sank down and began to rub between your legs. You let out an audible moan, one that echoed in the confines of the cave.
‘Y-Yes, please—please, please’ you repeated. The moment you moaned he gave in.
Miguel leaned in and kissed you hard, smothering your lips with his own. You could taste the salt on his rough, warm skin, and when his tongue slipped out you tasted it there too. He was rough but slow, occasionally opening his eyes a crack to see your response.
Your eager little mewls, your touch starved whines, they fed him. He pushed you up against the rocks with a rough growl.
‘Mm—’
His tongue was warm in your mouth as it explored. As you shyly broached his lips with your own tongue, you felt his fangs, sharp and thick and smooth. You whimpered as he moved in deeper with a second groan.
‘Mmm…. Mm, mm—’
His claws began to roam your body. You felt him start at your hips, his fingers squeezing the unfamiliar flesh, before moving up to your waist and then your chest. His thumb hit your nipple and you squeaked, drawing out another groan from him.
You were breathing on each other, hot and heavy, huffing through the nose as you whined and moaned. Never had you been so sought after, never had anything pet you with such ravenous hands.
You melted in his firm grip, giving in to his strength and his power, until something unexpected jolted you back into the moment. Something slippery, long and hard was probing between your legs and up your belly.
Your eyes shot open mid kiss. Sensing your hesitation Miguel pulled back, allowing you to glance down and see what you’d felt.
Two joint phalli, one on top of the other, both the same pale red as his tail decoration, emerging from the same slit in his pelvis. They were smooth, clean, slightly curved with a rounded tip.
You stared at his offering with curious eyes.
‘Ah… o-oh, I—’
‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t- keep them down’ he murmured. He sounded a little embarrassed, a sight so cute on such a gruff man.
‘No. No, it’s okay. It’s okay.’ You darted your eyes from his face to his shafts as you reassured him. He gave a soft nod as he sensed your interest, and slowly you reached out to touch them.
Your first thought was how wet they were. They were slippery, already dripping with something thick and viscose, almost like Vaseline.
It was oily in your hand as you tried to fist it back and forth. It twitched as you stroked, which you noted with a soft throb of your own, and you caught his eyes rolling. You squeaked when he abrupted bucked into your hand, forcing that thick, slippery cock to slide through your fingers and back again.
‘Ah… sorry, it- I haven’t been stimulated in so long’ he groaned.
‘I-It’s okay, you’re all good’ you said. You gingerly gave him a few more strokes, using both hands to rub both shafts. You watched his tail thrash in response, his back arching and rolling to rock them deeper. His gruff little moans were so sweet.
‘Ah- please, m—mm- may I have you?’ he pleaded.
You faltered only for a moment. It wasn't usually like you to be this impulsive, but you wanted this. You wanted him. You wanted freedom.
You nodded and slowly slipped down, presenting your body to him to guide. He took it.
You lay back and let him strip your swimsuit aside. You felt his fingers as they slipped beneath the wet fabric, as they brushed your skin for the first time. You felt them ghosting over your inner thigh, just barely stroking your pussy lips as he pushed the suit to the side.
You tensed and gasped; it was enough to give you goosebumps. He spread you wide without shame.
You watched Miguel’s eyes roaming. He notes the hairs on your arms standing up, the feel of raised skin as he stroked them, the sight of your chest heaving as your breath came a little faster. He could see your nipples harden beneath the suit.
Most of all, though, he stared at your perfectly framed cunt beneath the shifting water. He used his thumb to curiously spread you, noting the folds beading with slick.
Beneath the water his joint phalli twitched in unison. You hadn’t noticed, but his eyes had begun to glow a bright neon red. He wanted to plunder whatever sweet pearl was inside.
‘You will… need to be, careful’ he panted. You stayed still as he grabbed your ankles, tenderly pushing them in until your knees folded and your back bent, creating a perfect mating press. You shuddered as his smooth body settled in on top of you. You felt his cock poking at your naked pussy for the first time.
‘I will have to… manoeuvre them, a little, so I don’t try to penetrate you with both. That would be- painful. I will use one to stimulate you instead, is that… okay?’
‘Yeah. Y-Yeah, that’s okay.’
‘Good. Okay… Just hold onto me’ he purred. His hand tenderly slid down and around to cup your lower back while the other gripped the rock by your head for support. You felt his thumb stroking your spine. So soft, yet so rough.
You dug your nails into his back, and you let him slip in.
His cock went in smoothly, with little to no resistance, but that didn’t change how much space it took up. They were both huge.
It slid up like a snake, guided by that strange, slippery lubricant coating the silky skin, until it could go no further. You were now fully penetrated, your belly bulging and your clit smeared by his second little twitching shaft. You squirmed a little to adjust.
Fuck, it ached. It felt good, but it was really splitting you in half. You’d never been stretched like this, ever, not even close.
‘F-Fuck- ah, that’s, big—’ you winced.
‘That- that’s it… I’ve got you… You're mine now’ Miguel groaned. 
Fuck, you here his, and you were tight. Your skin felt good on his scales. Soft, malleable flesh, a cute squeezable body, perfectly impaled. He flexed and twitched his cock to feel it nuzzle your insides, imprinting it with little smears of precum. He wanted to remember this. He wanted to stamp the feeling of your cunt muscles clenching and quivering around him on the inside of his brain.
Bit by bit, he began to move.
‘A-Ah—’
In the water you could feel his skin as it slid across you, moist and slick like wet silk, moving with a dexterity and flexibility that no human could have. It made you shudder. Your brain knew that it felt wrong, but the pleasurable tightness in your gut told you that you didn’t care.
You dug your nails into his back and relied on his own huge hands to keep you steady.
‘Uhn—uhn— uhn—’
His soft grunts echoed above you as he nestled into your neck.
‘That’s it… That’s it. Ah- you are, so, soft…’
Your legs shook a little as he drew back and forth, his two long shafts shifting in tandem. You felt the longer rod easily filling you before slipping out.
Bit by bit the initial ache in your core started to subside. You began to relax. The pain numbed into a soft, smooth, pleasurable motion, and you began to moan.
You lost track of time in that private space, as you indulged your most perverse needs. You were lulled by pleasure. The slow rhythm of his pulsing, the gentle stimulating rubbing on your clit, the wetness and the warmth, it was like a dream.
You wanted this. You wanted to be wanted. In that moment, as he nestled your cheek and whined for more, whispering how good you felt in your ear, you forgot your asshole ex. You forgot everyone.
Part of you would have liked to be caught. You quivered at the thought. To be found like this, utterly impaled by this beautiful ethereal creature. It excited you.
You only noticed that any time had even passed when a salty wave hit your cheek. Wait, was the water, rising?
You didn’t get a chance to think about it. You were lost in the moment, your head dizzy from the sensations overstimulating every single one of your senses. The cave echoed with the slapping of water, the rhythmic pounding of flesh as he fucked you. His grunts were rough, tinged with some deep inhuman clicking sound that was almost like purring.
The sound of your taboo little fling filled the cave until you drowned in it.
The water kept rising. It was breaking, lapping, streaming in to lap over your conjoined bodies. It almost seemed to be mimicking Miguel’s own feelings; the peaking, the brewing tension in his gut as he wallowed in pleasure.
He started to get faster.
‘Miguel--!’
You tried to cry out but he fucked the words from your mouth. His claws raked your skin as his abdomen thrashed and humped you into submission.
‘Uhn- uhn- uhn—uhn- uhn-' 
‘Mi—a-ah—mi—Mig—’
Wave after wave swept in, until eventually, you were covered.
With a sudden gasp you went under.
In the frantic thralls of mating Miguel didn’t seem to notice. You watched bubbles rise to the surface as you gasped and moaned, sounds that were utterly muffled by the deep. A pressure covered your mouth and nose until you were utterly unable to breath, a pressure that matched the pressure on your insides. You could focus on nothing now but that wet slap, the pounding of flesh going in and out of your guts, the passionate thrashing of his tail as he fucked you raw.
It was too much. Right as you started to get lightheaded, you orgasmed, your whole body spasming and straining around his cocks.
The feel of you clenching thankfully managed to snap him from his trance. Miguel drew his head from your neck to find your eyes rolling backward, and in a panic he lent forward and kissed you. His lips were full and smooth, easily drawing back and forth against your own, and as his tongue snaked down into your throat you felt the last cusp of your conscious mind pleading for more.
But then you gasped, and you were not met with a mouthful of sea water this time. Miguel withdrew his lips from yours and with it he blew a small air bubble across your mouth, allowing you to breathe.
You realized that water had filled the cave so high that you were both now suspended, your body clasped in his hands to stop it drifting away. You could see all of him. His long tail snaking, his thick fleshy shafts between your spread legs, his broad beautiful human torso above you. You saw it all.
You panted hard as your eyes met. You were still impaled on his cock, with his strong arms and muscular tail holding you beneath the water. He panted back, bubbles flying from his lips. As soon as he confirmed that you were, in fact, breathing, he grunted, and to your surprise pulled himself out.
You watched the bulge in your belly slip out as his cock exited your hole.
For a moment you were distraught, sure that you’d done something wrong, but it was only for a moment. He immediately pulled you close and entered you again, though this time he entered you twice. One cock slipped its oily girth into your cunt while the other slid up into your anus, filling you to absolute completion.
He groaned, hard, and immediately started to rut you again. He wouldn’t allow you to be hurt, but by god, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He was on the cusp of euphoria.
‘A-Ah—fuck--!’
Your moans were no longer muffled as he started to fuck you again. Your screams just kept him going. The sweet siren call of your own pleasure, your own need. It drove him to seek it, drove him to arch his tail and buck his hips for more.
He grabbed your wrist with one of his hands and pulled you in close, smoothly wrapping himself around you until you were bound by his body. It looked almost sweet, like you were ballroom dancing, but it was anything but.
He was using every muscle he had to push against your weightless state, working against gravity to fuck you all the same. You clung to him as he squeezed the life back into you.
‘Ah… Miguel—!’
His entire, massive slender form was thrashing and humping to get deeper, closer, harder, almost crushing you in response. You just kept begging, screaming.
His tail whipped ferociously. His grunts were forming bubbles in the deep, little manifestations of his primal urge. He thrust, and he thrust, and he thrust, and he ravaged your creamy little cunt with each one. He forced your legs a little further apart with his slippery body. He pushed in deeper.
And then, with a guttural, wordless groan, he climaxed.
You let him cum inside you. You let those long, slippery shafts pulse and pump, creaming you into a whimpering mess, stuffing you up until it was all you could feel. The warmth, the grip, his body and flesh merged with your own. You took all he had to offer between your legs.
‘A-ah… ah….’
In the comedown you found yourself floating. The cave was completely filled with water, something that seemed impossible.
Miguel grunted and gently swam you both to the surface, to a tiny pocket of air left at the top of the cave. As you surfaced your little air bubble popped and you gasped. There you stayed, floating weightless in his arms as he held you to his chest, allowing you to relax. You were sore, and bruised, but it was so, so worth it.
‘Are—are you okay?’
Miguel’s voice jolted you from a sleep you hadn’t even noticed yourself falling into. ‘Y… Yeah, ah—very, very good’ you panted.
He let your head fall back so you could meet his gaze, but he kept his shafts inside you, and he kept his arms and tail around you too. He kept you close.
‘Come with me.’
His eyes were eerie in the dark water. They glowed so brightly, like an anglerfish’s lure, a deep and passionate red that danced across your skin.
‘Let me take you deeper’ he whispered. ‘Let me- adore you.’
‘C…. C-Can I, do that?’ you stammered.
His eyes were so soft in the dark. He leaned in and kissed the corner of your lips.
‘If you wish it’ he whispered again. ‘You can leave your life behind. I’ll take you away. I’ll take you somewhere beautiful, somewhere quiet and calm, somewhere they won’t bother you anymore. A world untouched by any man.’
‘I… what if I change my mind?’
Miguel blinked. Did he look, hurt? It was hard to say. He raised his dripping hand to his lips and blew another bubble, which he tenderly held out to your face.
‘It’s an offer to come with me. To be free. I offer you my breath, that’s all. But you can have the rest, too. You can have the rest of me, if you let me have you.’
Your heart skipped a beat beneath his glowering gaze. To your surprise, it was an easy answer.
‘Yes.’
Miguel purred. He popped the little air bubble and instead kissed your lips, creating a new one over your mouth as he simultaneously sank you back into the depths.
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sweetenerobert · 3 months
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watching you sleep
450 / obsessive dbf!joel miller x male reader
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summary: joel can’t help himself as he watches you sleep
warnings: 18 MINORS DNI+, strong language, dbf!joel, sleeping reader, age gap (reader is 20, Joel is 40) masturbation (m), reader helping joel cum faster (if you squint)
a/n: a quick drabble cause i missed you guys and bored too lmao :p
➴ navigation page/masterlist in bio
➴ notifications blog in bio, follow and turn on notifications
Your dad was fast asleep on the couch while Joel walked upstairs to use the bathroom before he went home. That’s when he noticed your bedroom door was ajar. Joel’s curiosity got the better of him as he pushed the door open and saw your sleeping figure.
Your shirt had risen, showing the exposed skin of your navel; your underwear had been bunched up, exposing your upper thigh.
Joel watched as the young adult he’d been obsessing over body rose slowly and fell as you breathed through your nose. In Joel’s eyes, you looked like a sleeping angel on a cloud lying on your mattress beautifully.
His hand had a mind of its own as his fingertips trailed your cheek, hearing your grumble and your body moving against his touch was the sweetest thing to Joel, but his cock was budging against the denim in his jeans, and ruining the bittersweet moment.
Biting the raw skin on his bottom lip, he closes your bedroom — covering you both in total darkness, unbuckles his belt, and takes off his jeans — stopping at his thighs and starting to stroke his cock.
Imagining his hands traveling down the curves of your body, his mouth on yours, hot pants, and moans as they escape into each other's mouth, flying through his mind like a memory already in his head.
Beads of precum leave the slit of Joel’s cock, biting his lips to stifle his moans as he turns his waist to look behind him to see if he can hear anyone walking by your room door.
When he knows that no one is in the vicinity of your room, he turns his waist straight back at you and starts to stroke his cock faster.
You turn your body away from Joel — back facing him, the leg band of your underwear tight around your thigh, making your underwear accentuate your butt even more.
Joel feels the shaft of his cock start to pulsate as he can feel his cum almost spring from his cock. His balance starts to become all wonky as his hips rock forward.
His teeth biting his lip, Joel starts to taste iron as his eyelids snap shut. He was seeing stars underneath his eyelids.
A quiet groan as strings of cum leave his cock and land on your back. Joel’s forehead felt tense from the lines forming on his forehead.
His hard cock began going soft as he slid his boxers and pants up with a slow tug. Exhales leave his body as Joel buckles his belt back around his waist.
With his uncovered-cum hand, he strokes your cheek as he grumbles under his breath. “Thanks for the help, angel.”
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jancysmixtape · 1 year
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I don’t understand how anyone can say Wednesday didn’t like Tyler. She chose to go to the dance with him, she INITIATED their first kiss and SMILED at him. Then even after finding out he was the Hyde, she still said he was her type. It’s canon that she liked him. 😭
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bellarkeselection · 3 months
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Knew Better But Still Picked You
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Gif from @alphinias
Honestly I might turn this into a small series because this is the longest request I have ever written. Let me know if you want more parts 😁. Part two. Part three
Request From @loxleys-blog could i be added to the tag list for cole and a request of best friend of jackie who comes to visit her and moves there with her family and falls for cole and cole falls for her?
The car pulled to a stop outside the big Walter ranch household and I saw the front door fling open revealing my best friend from New York running straight for me. Getting out of the car I took my bag out and opened my arms for her. “Jackie Jack!”
“Y/n. I can’t believe you’re here!” She flung her arms around me and we stumbled when we finally embraced one another.
Jackie and I had become even closer than we were before after her family’s accident. The rest of her friends wouldn’t talk to her but I chose to keep our relationship the same. So I basically took the place of her sister Lucy. “Who’s your friend, New York?” I broke away from her seeing a young guy with green eyes and honey blonde hair.
“She’s my best friend from back home, Cole.” Jackie grumbled tugging on my arm trying to get me to leave with her.
Yet I wasn’t going to not introduce myself to him especially since he was really attractive. Walking over to the guy was sitting on a horse with light blonde hair like he had. “Hey there, I’m Y/n.” Leaning my arms on the wooden fence I sent him a grin.
He dismounted his horse and climbed over the fence shaking my hand with a cheeky grin. “Cole, Cole Walter. Have you ever been on a horse before?”
“Can’t say I have.” I replied to him.
His grin only grew. “Would you want to come riding with me?”
“No. No she wouldn’t actually. Because she’s coming to have ice cream with me and my friends. So we’re gonna be going now.” Jackie came rushing forward tugging on my arm and leading me back away from him. Whipping my head around watching Cole staring at us as we went to leave. I parted my lips, finding myself wanting to talk with him more. There was something intriguing about him I just couldn’t put my finger on.
A few hours later Jackie had me meet Skylar and Tara who she had met on her first day of school. We were sitting inside the ice cream shop where I took a big bite out of my strawberry cone hearing the store bell ring. My gaze shifted to the doorway recognizing Cole came through and he waved in my direction. “OMG. That is not a good idea at all.”
“What’s wrong, Tara?” I asked, finishing the bite I had in my mouth confused.
She sent me a raised brow. “You're getting involved with Cole Walter.”
“I’m not involved with him. I just met the guy today after I came in from the airport.” I told her to eat more of my cone.
Lifting my gaze upward Cole was ordering himself his own ice cream and the woman at the counter handed it over to him. Cole glanced my way and I felt my face turn red after I waved back to him without really thinking and Jackie hit my arm in warning. “Don’t go down that road, Y/n. Cole isn’t a good guy.”
“Why not?” I asked softly.
The three of them looked between one another and Skylar was the first to say something to my question. “He’s known to have a lot of hookups and not be up for a real relationship.”
“He sneaks them out of the house. I saw one the first morning I got to the Walter house. Alex can tell you more if that’s not enough of a warning for you.” Jackie explained putting a hand on my shoulder.
Shaking my head I still didn’t see why they were so afraid for me. I didn’t know anything about the guy but he seemed nice enough. “Okay don’t shoot me for asking this but what is the big deal of getting to know him. I’m not going to hook up with him.”
“That’s what most girls think and then he woos them with his charm…” Tara trailed off.
My best friend squeezed my shoulder and I met her concerned gaze. “I just don’t want you to get hurt because of him. You’re basically my chosen sister now.”
“He’s not gonna ever be interested in me Jackie and I’m not going to be interested in him.” I reassured her and we changed the conversation to something else for the rest of the time.
A few hours later after the crazy family dinner I was laying on my side of Jackie’s bed while she was doing some extra credit homework. Staring up at the ceiling I sighed clasping my hands together on my stomach. It definitely was different from the noisy city sirens and other things. Whereas here you could only hear the wind and all the other animal noises. I heard something slide underneath the closed bedroom door where I got up from the bed seeing it was a note. Folding it open the note read “Meet me on the porch if you want to see something cool - C”
Silently reading it to myself I contemplated on going or not eyeing my best friend while she worked silently. I didn’t suppose she would see if I was gone for a little bit. “Hey Jackie Jack, I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.”
“Okay. But use mine. Don’t use the one that everybody else does. Trust me.” She warned me turning back around in her desk chair.
Getting to my feet I snatched my boots out from underneath the bed and a green hoodie without her knowing. Then I headed down the stairs as quietly as I could possibly manage since it was almost midnight and most of the house was asleep. Reaching the front door I snuck through it, closing it gently then walked to the edge of the porch not seeing Cole anywhere. “Cole!” I called out still in a quiet voice.
“Over here, Y/n.” He responded by waving a flashlight from the barn door that he had opened. Rushing down the steps I ran towards the barn meeting up with him where he lowered the flashlight when we were standing in front of each other. “Was wondering if you were actually going to show up.”
Shrugging my shoulders I admitted slightly nervous of what he had planned in the middle of the night. “Gotta be honest I’ve never snuck out in the middle of the night like this. So what do you have in mind, Colorado?”
“I wanna show you something you don’t see in fancy New York.” He drew open a horse stall and walked out the horse he was on when we first met. “This is my horse.”
Taking a step forward I brushed a hand through its mane. “He’s beautiful.”
“Glad you like him cause we’re going to ride him to the spot I want to show you.” Cole responded by brushing his hand through his horse's mane touching my hand when he finished his sentence.
Tilting my head at the Walter boy I must have misheard him. “I’m sorry we’re doing what now?”
“We’re going to ride my horse together so I can show you a special spot.” Cole said again to me shutting the door with his foot holding out his freehand to help me step up on the box that was near where his horse was standing already saddled up. “Don’t worry city girl. I won’t make you ride alone until after I’ve shown you how to ride.”
Eyeing his hand extended to me I couldn’t help but hear Jackie and the others warming to not get involved with the Cole Effect. Yet I couldn’t deny I liked the thrill of butterflies he was giving me so I gave him my hand. “Just don’t let me fall off okay.” He nodded helping me throw one leg over and once I was settled he climbed on behind me.
“Hang on tight, Y/n.” He warned me, pressing his front closely to my back, making my face turn a shade of red as he kicked his horse in the gut and we raced from the barn to the open fields in the distance.
The wind blew through our hair and I hadn’t realized but I gripped Cole’s forearm since he was the one controlling the reins. Probably knowing I might scare the horse and then we’d be in trouble. He finally tugged the reins and slowly dismounted the horse helping me down. He had his horse lay down sitting down on the ground waiting for me. “Come on, sit down.” He patted the grass beside him.
“Okay.” I agree plopping down beside him looking around at the dark woods surrounding us. “So what did you want to show me?”
Cole moved his right hand forward tilting my chin upwards towards the sky. “This is what I wanted to show ya, Y/n.”
I gasped in awe seeing the sky dancing with a million stars above our heads. Blinking through some tears I couldn’t describe what it felt like to see something this bright. “This is incredibly beautiful…” The stars were so bright and even though we had some impressive light shows in New York none would compare to this.
“It’s not the only thing that’s beautiful. You surely can’t get that view in the city.” Cole mumbled, causing me to meet his green gaze.
I paused in my next words still confused as to why he was giving me his time and attention when he was labeled as the most popular boy in this town. “Cole, why did you ask me out here tonight? Not that I don’t appreciate it. I just…I don’t entirely understand why me?”
“I ain’t good with saying how I feel so sorry if this sounds stupid….I just instantly liked you for some reason.” He declares where I didn’t say a word with our gazes focusing in on one another.
Parting my lips I whispered out. “Liked me in what way, Cole?”
“In the way where we can…do this.” Cole whispered towards me before he made my breath catch in my throat seeing him leaning forward about to kiss me.
Half of my brain was telling me to not kiss him and remember the warning and the other half was saying he would be your first kiss and I couldn’t deny that I felt something for him even though all we had done was saying hello. I finally made up my mind and closed the gap the rest of the way kissing him. He responded by scooting closer to me and threading one hand through my hair trailing it down to the side of my cheek before I broke it needling air. “Cole….don’t find this dorky of me. But that…you were my first kiss.”
“I wouldn’t judge you for that. So what are you thinking now, Y/n.” He asked me to try to read my facial expressions but I was still in shock and bliss at the same time.
Hugging my knees to my chest I admitted sheepishly with my face turning red. “Jackie isn’t gonna be happy about this. She warned me to stay away from you….I knew better but I’m still choosing you.”
“Well I’m glad cause I’m picking you too, Y/n.” He draped an arm over my shoulder and I laid my head against his chest feeling my eyes getting heavy since I was getting sleepy. His gaze dropped to mine, tucking hair from my eyes. “Don’t worry about Jackie. You’ve got to live a little in life. Now let’s get you back before you fall asleep out here.”
We rode back to the house and I struggled to stay awake after getting off his horse so he decided to just carry me back bridal style upstairs. “Cole, this isn’t my room…she’ll be mad if I sleep in your room.” I trailed off in a sleepy tone laying my head still on his chest with him laying me down on one side of his bed.
He changed into some shorts to sleep in and crawled in the bed beside me feeling me scoot over to him laying my head back in the crook of his neck like it was minutes ago. “Sssh babe. I’ll take whatever Jackie feels tomorrow morning. Just get some rest.” My eyes fell closed and he dozed off shortly after in a peaceful night of sleep.
That was until the morning came and his bedroom door was flung open and I screamed hearing my best friend bursting into his room. “Y/n, I told you to stay away from him!…Well don’t you two have anything to say?” Rubbing my eyes Cole shifted, holding himself up on his elbow staring down at me silently, neither of us giving her an answer.
Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tag list - @cognacdelights
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anitalenia · 10 months
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━━━ .°˖✧ romance tropes ⋆˙⊹
𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑠. 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑝𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒, 𝑜𝑟 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑐𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒. — links still being updated
╰₊✧ ゚OTHER LINKS . ྀི ⊹ masterlist | taglist | my library | prompt help | symbol packs | dividers
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˖⁺ ⊹୨ forbidden romance ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character cannot openly be in a relationship with someone for some reason ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ enemies to lovers ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are enemies / in violent opposition to each other in the beginning but gradually end up in love ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ friends to lovers ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are friends first, but end up falling in love with each other ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ dark/taboo tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ romance between two people that is considered inappropriate or wrong/not acceptable in society ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ opposites attract ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are drastically different people/opposite personalities but still somehow love each other ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ unrequited love ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character loves someone who is unattainable for some reason. one sided love. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ fake relationship ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters feel no romantic feelings for one another but are forced to be together. in some cases, they eventually fall in love. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ fish out of water ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is in an unfamiliar environment and has to adapt. think city girl on a farm. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ soul mates au ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are meant to be together from birth, destiny, or soul ties. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ oblivious to love ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is clueless about their own romantic feelings towards someone else ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ reverse harem ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ consists of one female protagonist and three or more male love interests. although I have heard varying definitions. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ secret identity ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are in love but one is not being truthful with who they really are/they’re hiding something from their love interest (like spiderman) ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ marriage ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is forced to marry another for some reason (arranged marriage) ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ dark past ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character has trauma or pain because of their past, and their love interest helps them heal. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ love triangle ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are in love, but a third party loves one of the characters as well. or, one character is confused between two people who they love (edward x bella x jacob, stefan x elena x damon) ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ time travel ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character travels back or forward in time and falls in love with someone from that time period. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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━━━ .°˖✧ 𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝑵𝑶 𝑬𝑿𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 ⋆˙⊹
˖⁺ ⊹୨ amnesia / memory loss ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character loses their memory and has to regain their love and memories for another. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ alpha hero ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a male character is overprotective, bossy, jealous, possessive, and have great sexual appeal. think bad boy, biker, ceo fanfics. This can also be military men, superhero’s, men in leadership. a vague category. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ one bed trope ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are forced to share a bed 👅 you should know this one ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ forced proximity ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are forced into small spaces together or forced to be together in the same room. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ beauty and the beast ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a typically male character is capable of great rage and destructive, sometimes a literal monster, but the fem character loves them beyond their looks and sees the good in them. doesn’t have to be a literal monster. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ in peril tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is in some sort of crisis and has to be saved by love interest. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ job related tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is attracted to someone because of their job, or their romance happens at work/ a specific location (corrupt priest, military man, construction worker). can be taboo. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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authors note: I am going to be making posts describing each trope individually as well as sub-genres and examples of that trope. I don’t have links yet, they’re still in production. I had something similar to this in my notes for my stories and decided to share. there are a lot of tropes out there, so feel free to comment other ones. remember you are loved and important <;3
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4hotdesi · 2 months
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when your friend's mom invite you when he is not at home.....
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𝔏𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔤𝔢 𝔅𝔩ä𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯, յգօյ, 𝔟𝔶 𝔄𝔯𝔱𝔲𝔰 𝔖𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔯
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freedomfireflies · 7 months
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The Angel and the Fae
Summary: The one where Harry is an angel that falls in love with a garden fairy.
And even the heavens can't keep you apart.
Word Count: 3.2k
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Harry thinks you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen.
He decides this the moment he sees you. Resolves instantaneously upon a fleeting glance that you – with your long hair that flows beneath the crown of white lilies atop your head – will be the reason he falls from heaven.
He watches you from the edge of Aspen Hollow. Never once stepping foot past the sacred edge that surrounds the ethereal garden where you preside. Not even a feather from his wings is permitted to dance into such holy ground.
A fawn has crawled its way into your lap. Entrusting you with its care and safety as its eyes fall shut and it blissfully settles into your delicate and soothing embrace. 
You’re speaking to it. Softly. Comfortingly. Trailing your finger from its nose down to its spine.
“There, little one,” you’re cooing. Hushed yet reverent. “Sleep now.”
Harry considers himself lucky to be able to hear the way your heart beats beneath your chest. Steady. Rhythmic. Calm. You’re happy. Content and filled with tranquility.
He detects the exact moment you sense him. Catches the hitch in your breath and the jump of your pulse.
He readies himself to explain – to assuage you. He expects your fear, your resentment. Expects you to cast him out. Forbid him from returning.
Instead, you seem…curious. Hesitant but inquisitive, and when your head turns, his lungs just about cave in.
And in that moment, when your eyes find his, his purpose changes. His entire reason for existence is plucked from one instrument and played on another. A tune so beautiful, so melodious…it makes his heart sing. 
You’re watching him much like he was watching you. But you don’t move from your spot on the grass, instead keeping the fawn safely tucked away in your lap.
You blink, and Harry swears he can feel the flutter of it against his cheek. 
“Hello,” you call quietly, your gentle voice carrying across the few hundred yards from where you reside.
You must know he’ll be able to hear you, and Harry straightens up dutifully, his wings following suit. Expanding some as if to display a sense of chivalry. 
“Hello,” he calls back, equally as soft.
You seem to study him for a moment, and Harry swears this is the longest he’s ever gone without breathing. 
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” you tell him, and he nods once.
“I know,” he admits. “I suppose I just…found it hard to tear myself away.”
You glance down at the sleeping doe on your lap, and he feels his insides twist now that your eyes aren’t on him.
“I apologize if I’ve disturbed you,” he adds, hoping to encourage your attention back.
You hum faintly and brush your palm down the baby deer’s back. “You have not.”
This makes Harry’s mouth curl up into a giddy smile. “Then would you mind if I stay? Only for a moment? I feel quite at peace here.”
You regard him carefully. Inquiringly. “I would imagine an angel is quite often at peace.”
He considers this. “Peace is a privilege,” he finally replies gently. “And it is one that is often lost on me.”
This seems to surprise you, your lips parting delicately as Harry’s pulse begins to thump in his ears. “Then you may stay as long as you’d like.”
His grin doubles in size as he nods his appreciation. “Thank you.”
However, when he remains planted near the tall oak tree that sits beside the edge of the garden, you glance back over.
“Angel,” you call, and Harry’s entire chest caves in. “You’ll disturb me more if you hover like that.” 
He hesitates, looking over the soft but hallowed grass only inches away. “Angels aren’t allowed inside The Garden.”
“Not unless invited,” you correct, and he straightens up. “And I am inviting you in.”
Still, Harry can’t make his feet move, despite the way his wings are desperate to carry him to you. Centuries worth of warnings and guidelines are attempting to remind him of his place, of his duty and his loyalty to the heavens. But that does nothing to dampen his urge to go forth and take.
“Angel,” you repeat with a glimmer in your eye. “Come.”
And that’s all it takes for his foot to instantly cross over into sacred ground.
The moment his wings pass through the invisible barrier, a forceful wind ripples across the garden. Echoing between the trees and the grass as the billowing of air sweeps from flower to flower. All the way to the other side.
You feel your eyes widen as you watch him approach. He’s hesitant but intrigued. And perhaps you know better than to invite him in, but your heart aches to provide the handsome figure a moment of serenity.
He studies every petal and vine as he walks through, wonderstruck by the enchanted orchard. He smiles brightly when a blue jay swoops down beside him, the small bird fluttering around his head a time or two before disappearing back into the branches. 
And the angel laughs. A sound that resembles the moment a wave breaks against the shore. Loud and lively before it settles and softens.
“This is beautiful,” he says, and you nod.
“It represents serenity. A moment of calm before the next stage of life.”
You both look to the small creature in your lap, and the angel’s expression changes. “Are you saying hello…or goodbye?”
You smile gently, trailing your fingers down the sleeping fawn’s spine. “We are saying hello.”
Those clear, green eyes seem to sparkle at you as he grins. “Hello,” he repeats.
You nod again. “She’ll be sent down soon. The moment the sunlight disappears behind the mountains.”
The angel is intrigued, crouching down a few feet away as he studies the way you trail your palm over the soft coat. “Is it hard to let them go?”
“No,” you answer easily, smiling some. “They are meant to live. To flourish. To exist outside of this realm and give back to the earth what it has given to them.”
The garden falls quiet. You feel him watching you while you watch the creature in your lap. He seems to be wrestling against another question and you chuckle to yourself as the fawn awakes.
“Off you go,” you whisper quietly, helping the wobbling baby doe from your lap before it’s bounding toward the grass and disappearing out of sight.
Left alone with the quiet angel, you both stand and turn to each other. Now provided with a better glimpse of his large frame and sizable wings.
He straightens up under your inquisitive stare, feathers fluttering as the wind passes between you. “I appreciate you allowing me in,” he says tentatively. “I don’t mean to break your rules.”
“They are not my rules,” you correct, waving his apology away. “I believe that anyone who needs a moment of stillness should be given one.”
This seems to charm him. “And I believe you are the first and only fairy to think so.”
You grin. “Perhaps. But I’ve never understood the divide between angels and fairies. Both are providers of comfort and refuge. It seems silly to be at odds with each other.”
He hums, and you wonder if you’ve offended him. “I agree,” he says, and you feel your muscles unwind. “But the heavens have a different belief.”
“They believe that just because fairies were created by a different hand, we are not to be trusted," you snort beneath a quiet breath. "That we are all tricksters and supernatural entities unworthy of eternal salvation.”
“Are you?” His tone is playful, and you feel your smile return tenfold.
“I am a garden fairy,” you reply. “I tend to the trees and the animals. I don’t have time for tricks.”
His look of amusement seems to mirror your own.
“And you?” you ask next, gesturing toward him. “An angel without peace is like a heart without rhythm. Why do you come here when you know better?”
He takes a moment to consider his answer. “Truthfully, I don’t know,” he finally responds. “There was a pulling. On my soul. My wings. They led me here and I wasn’t quite sure why.”
“Well, have you found the peace you were looking for?”
His eyes meet yours. “I have.”
Another unspoken moment dances between you as your attention drifts toward the very plumage he displays so proudly. 
You’ve seen angel wings before but never this close. Never when they were near enough to touch. Truth be told, you weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance, and you imagine the quiet angel can hear your heart racing.
But he’s smiling at the way you stare. Seemingly amused by your fascination and wide eyes as you watch the cream-colored feathers flutter against the wind.
“They’re…beautiful,” you admit softly, attention following the curves and dips of each row expanding from his back. “Are they heavy?”
“Not normally, no,” he tells you. “Only in times of great sorrow.”
Confused, you raise a curious brow.
His grin grows. “Each feather symbolizes that of someone I’ve watched over. And when they move on, a piece of their soul stays with me. It lives and it breathes, and it is.”
He steps closer and you feel your breath catch, awestruck by the way the large pennons begin to curl around his frame.
“When their soul is happy, the wings feel weightless,” he continues, a far-off look in his expression. “And when they’re sad, when they cry…my wings cry for them.”
There’s a pleasant sort of ache in your chest. “You’re a guardian angel.”
“I am.” His arm outstretches for you, palm to the sky as he silently requests your hand. “Here.”
Hesitantly but with great keenness, you oblige his instruction, sliding your fingers along his skin.
The moment the contact is made, you both seem to jolt. Magnetized by the feel of his flesh against your own. A stark contrast that’s somehow hauntingly familiar. Soothing in a sense. Destined.
He brings you closer, guiding the tips of your fingers to his wings. Ghosting them across the soft feathers as you suck in a quiet breath and feel the entire weight of the world on his back.
He holds you for only a moment before allowing you to travel the expanse of his wingspan on your own. Delicate strokes along the rows of quills that seem to bask in your touch.
“How do they feel?” he asks quietly, almost as if not to startle you.
Your lips roll into your mouth as you search for the right words. Or any word that could even begin to come close to describing such an ethereal sensation.
“Magical,” you finally say, and he smiles.
“Certainly no more magical than a fairy.”
Smirking to yourself, you lower toward the grass, and extend your hand. Your fingers dance above the blades momentarily before you make a quick snap of your wrist.
Instantly, a flower springs forth from the dirt. Sprouting up out of the soil in full bloom as the angel’s eyes widen.
You pluck it from its roots and straighten back up before offering him the small, dainty lily stem. He steps forward, allowing you to guide the flower behind his ear and tuck it between soft, chestnut curls.
“How do I look?” he asks.
You laugh. “Magical.”
He holds your giddy stare for a second longer before he murmurs, “You’re quite beautiful.”
A bit stunned, you smile, and wave the compliment away. “You must be standing too close.”
With a cheeky hum, the angel suddenly steps back, his wings now fluttering about the air until his feet lift from the ground.
Then, his feathers carry him a few hundred yards away before he lowers back down, studies you, and calls, “Nope. Still beautiful.”
Despite yourself, you laugh again. “You’re quite forward for an angel.”
“And you’re quite timid for a fae,” he retorts, returning to you as a rustle of wind sweeps through your hair. “I was expecting a bit more fearlessness.”
“I’m only fearless when I choose to be,” you tell him. “But I just met you. Why should I share all my secrets when I don’t even know your name?”
The handsome angel considers this before nodding and stepping up to you. “Harry,” he says quietly, as if the answer is reserved only for you. “They call me Harry.”
A stunning name for a stunning man, and you feel your pulse jump while it makes a home in your mind. “Harry,” you repeat, making him grin. “That’s quite pretty.”
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “And what do they call you?”
You lift one shoulder in a gentle shrug. “I suppose I don’t really have a name. Or at least I don’t have anybody to use it if I do.”
His eyes soften while he glances over the crown of delicate white flowers woven between the locks of your hair. “Then I will call you my Lily,” he decides, and there’s a new sort of blossoming in your chest. “If I may.”
You struggle against such merriment. “You may.”
“Good.” He seems equally as enchanted, and for the first time in almost a hundred years, you feel mesmerized by an angel. Then, his chin motions just behind you. “The sun is beginning to set.”
Turning, you find that it is, and your heart soars as you eagerly reach over and take his hand to drag him toward the middle of the garden.
It’s an action made without much forethought, the need to feel his skin against yours almost like instinct now.
For a moment, you both hesitate. Unsure of the presumptuous act until Harry squeezes your palm, and silently encourages you to lead him where you’d like to go.
You take him toward the middle of the meadow, just beside the calm stream of water.
There, you find the baby fawn. Standing curiously on the other side, waiting to bid you goodbye.
You and the angel come to a stop on the edge of the grass just as the sun is filtering between the trees. Casting a golden hue across the orchard and setting the secluded hollow aglow. 
And just as the stars are beginning to take their place in the sky, the sweet doe meets your eye, and lifts its head.
You smile. “Goodbye, little one.”
Its left ear flicks before it turns on its heel, and leaps over the hill. Disappearing from sight as it’s carried into another realm.
Leaving The Garden behind.
Harry seems to hold his breath from beside you as he looks down. “And will it be okay?”
You lace your fingers with his and nod. “It will.”
Silence settles between the trees, between your hearts. It’s comfortable and it’s still and the faint sound of rustling leaves calms your racing pulse.
You look over and allow your attention to trail across his face. Taking note of each line, each edge, each crinkle. The shape of his lips, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw. The dimples in his cheeks and the dark hairs of his eyebrows.
He’s quite handsome. Alluring, in a sense, yet oddly safe. You imagine this was by design. To help those he protects, and comforts feel more at ease in his presence. 
And while you’re looking at him, you notice he’s looking at you, too. Just as intently, with nothing but admiration. He studies the faint, golden sparkles that litter your skin. The way they glimmer beneath each drop of moonlight, a common feature amongst fairies.
You imagine this isn’t the first time he’s seen a fae’s enchanted flesh. But he indulges in the sight of you, nonetheless. Indulges in your magic.
Then, he steps forward, and you feel the air shift.
“May I confess something?” he whispers, and you sense his slight hesitation.
“Of course.”
With a deep inhale, he tentatively reaches out his hand and ghosts the tips of his fingers along your cheek. “…I feel an overwhelming urge to kiss you.”
Your lashes flutter while the insides of your stomach twist and turn into impervious knots. “Oh?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Mhm. And I know that breaks…every rule in existence.”
“And then some,” you breathe, struggling against the desire to push yourself into his palm. 
You wonder if this is part of the ruse. If perhaps you feel so enamored by him because that’s what a guardian angel does. It encourages you to feel more susceptible. Maybe this pull to him is nothing more than magic.
Still, it pulls you, nonetheless. 
“I want to kiss you, Lily,” he murmurs, moving closer until the front of his chest just brushes against your own. “And I’m afraid I don’t quite know what to do now.”
And you know the admonitions. Know the rules, the history between angels and fairies. You know that his very presence in this garden is inviting trouble into paradise, and yet…you have no yearning to tell him to go. 
Because you don’t want him to go. You don’t want him to take his hand from your cheek. You don’t want him to leave this sacred orchard at all, and even though every fiber of your being, every nerve-ending, and every cell in your body is desperately attempting to warn you…you push into his touch, anyway.
“I think…you should kiss me,” you finally say, grasping onto his wrist.
This answer surprises you both. Neither one of you understand it or have the knowledge to comprehend the repercussions. 
All you know is right here, right now. His hand on your face, his lips much too close, and his aura. His effortless ability to make you feel like you’ve just come home.
His thumb follows the outline of your cheekbone. “Are you sure?”
You squeeze his arm a bit tighter and nod once. “I don’t see why not. What’s the worst that could happen?”
He grins – a wide, toothy grin – and you decide that it might be the most beautiful thing in this whole garden. “What a fearless way of looking at it.”
With that, he kisses you. Presses his lips to yours and takes each strained breath from your lungs.
It’s hesitant and it’s unsure and it’s perfect. A moment in time meant just for the two of you, here beneath the large willow tree and the pale light of the moon.
Eventually, he pulls back, but he keeps himself close. His mouth moving to your cheek while your eyes fall shut.
And you drink him in. His scent, his skin. Memorizing each inch of the angel in your arms as you ask yourself what you did to deserve such wonder.
“I’m afraid I have to go,” he says. But it’s heavy, the way he speaks. “If I don’t return soon, they’ll come looking.”
You nod your understanding and swallow the lump in your throat. “Go,” you whisper. “You have souls to protect.”
This makes him chuckle before a wounded look of remorse settles on his expression, the palm of his hand slipping around the back of your neck.
He dips down to rest his forehead against yours, almost as though looking for balance. Stability amidst a sea of uncertainty, and you’re more than happy to offer it to him.
“My Lily,” he exhales, and the sound of your name on his tongue sends a shiver down your spine. “I am so glad my wings brought me to you.”
Smiling, you nuzzle the tip of your nose against his.
“May they bring you back again.”
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The next parts will be all the angst and turmoil and fluff and smut, I swear, I just had to do the background first HAHAHA WE ARE THROWING ALL THE TROPES INTO ONE POT AND COOKIN' BABY!
Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞
~ Other Harry Blurbs
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Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince
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jk97 · 1 month
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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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bbyblair · 7 months
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small touches, pink cheeks. 
charles leclerc x f!reader 
pt.2!
 *ੈ✩‧₊˚
a/n: this is the first fic i’ve ever written so please excuse any mistakes or errors in my writing! Any tips are welcomed and very appreciated. hope you guys enjoy this! let me know if anyone would like a part two. <3
summary: the start of the 2023 season, Bahrain in early march. you'd recently joined the sky team, working as a news reporter and interviewer for your beloved sport.it's your first week and a mix of nerves and anticipation swirl together in your stomach. you're giddy to finally meet who you’d be working with for the next few months… but what happens when an instant connection sparks up between the new girl and Ferrari's golden boy? 
warnings: light cursing, kind of angst? idk. sort of enemies to lovers? reader is annoyed at Charles :(
word count: 1.8k
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thursday, march 2nd 2023. 
a small breeze creeps through your window and goosebumps arise on your skin. you can hear your alarm angrily blaring on your phone, but you hadn't woken up yet fully and your brain was still in a haze. suddenly your eyes snap open as you realise what day it is. it's race week and you should be heading off to the airport in around three hours, shit. 
you sigh the same dramatic sigh you had been doing since you were a little girl and roll your eyes. contemplating whether or not to risk another five minutes of blissful sleep. luckily you come to your senses before making that grave mistake. your feet pad lightly across your bedroom floor and into the bathroom, you pause and look around your room realising that from now on you're going to be on the move for a solid 6 months. it's worth it though, this career you had been working toward since you were in high school, and you're proud of yourself to have finally got here. 
the cool shower water finished off the job of waking you up and after spending a little too much time getting ready you were packed and heading off to the airport. 
┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ 。˚ ✧
the flight went quickly, considering the ample amounts of work you had to complete before landing, but you managed to get it all done on the plane with a little bit of rushing. you hadn't had time to travel much during your childhood or during college so you were practically squealing with excitement when you emerged from the plane and began your journey to the hotel you were staying in. 
the taxi was stuffy and warm, and your excitement started to be replaced with nerves as you realised that soon you would be in the heat of the paddock, meeting with very important people and drivers. 
you always had a natural ability to make people feel comfortable and this helped you in becoming an interviewer, plus the three years of journalism school you just about survived. It had been a wild ride, but you were finally here, in bahrain, about to be introduced to your new life. 
after getting yourself set up in your hotel and ready for the rest of the afternoon you began making your way over to the race venue. it was huge, but empty due to the fact that the race was in a few days. The only people around were a few race engineers and team members who were discussing strategy for the upcoming race. you were looking for someone in particular, your boss who you'd met before in london. stumbling through the paddock you finally found where the sky hq was situated and after making quick friends with the rest of your interviewing team, some of whom you knew from back home, you all decided to go out for some drinks. 
the night moved fast and before you knew it you were making your way back to the hotel at an unreasonably late time and collapsed onto the bed, tiredness taking over your whole body. 
friday , march 3rd 2023. 
regret washed over your body as you woke up in your hotel room, your alarm blaring at you at a completely unreasonable time. you swiftly began getting ready for the day ahead, your first day. nerves overtake your body again completely during your short walk to the circuit, it was already swarming with fans, ready to watch the free practice after missing their sport for a few months. the staff entrance was hidden away and luckily not too busy, so you managed to sneak in on time. 
you greeted your team who you'd already become quick friends with yesterday and they began briefing you on the timing of the day and when you would be interviewing the drivers. you had been told that this morning you were meant to go over to the ferraris section of the paddock and conduct a fun interview with leclerc and sainz. some silly questionnaire to test their knowledge of one another by asking them some, in your opinion, very personal questions. of course you smiled heartily and agreed, after all this was your job and you were excited to meet all of the drivers, having loved f1 since you were little. 
you made your way over to the ferrari area, and you and the filming crew were kindly greeted by their pr team who directed into a room and informed you that the two drivers would be there shortly. nerves started to bubble up in your stomach, even though you were confident and knew that you were good at your job sometimes meeting new people stressed you out a little more than you liked to admit. 
shuffling and muffled voices were heard outside of the door and the suddenly it opened and you were greeted with two handsome faces, both smiling politely at you and they outstretched their hands for you to take. you quickly grabbed the spaniards hand and shook it. 
“mr sainz, its a pleasure to meet you, im y/n im going to be hosting your interview today.”
his smile grew a little wider and he chuckled, “please call me carlos, and its lovely to meet you too y/n.” you blushed a little at how he said your name in his accent and smiled at him. your eyes then landed on the monegasque next to you, his smile remained on his face but his eyes were unreadable and intimated you a little bit. his eyes raked over your form and then he also outstretched his hand. his grip was much firmer than carlos’ and he began speaking before you. 
“charles, I'm looking forward to working with you y/n.” his eyes then returned to their initial softness and his grip loosed. you were a little taken aback but quickly composed yourself. you just simply nodded your head in response and softly spoke out a small “me too.”
that interaction stumped you, and you were clearly flustered but the rest of the interview went smoothly and you had played the quiz game, the two men laughing throughout and their childish rivalry entertained you more than you liked to admit. but throughout the interview you had felt charles' eyes on you more than once. once you dared to meet his gaze, but as soon as you did he quickly looked ack at his teammate and continued with the game nonchalantly. 
maybe you were just making this up, you didn't know. but no one had ever looked at you the way charles did and it made an odd feeling rise up in your stomach.after the interview ended the two men shook your hand again and began to leave, having to get ready for free practice which was starting in a few hours.
the filming crew packed up and left. you turned your back and let out a sigh at the odd experience. shuffling through your bag for your phone you heard someone clear their throat behind you and your body snapped back and spun around. to your surprise charles was stood their. the same unreadable expression on his face which made your cheeks burn straight away. you looked around awkwardly, silence engulfed the room and you didn't know if you should say something to the driver or stay silent. his voice broke you out of your thoughts. 
“sorry, i didnt mean to scare you.” he chuckled softly and his eyes creased, easing your nerves a little. the hint of his accent poked through his words, it was very attractive you had to admit. 
“no , no its okay, can i help you with anything?” your voice came out harder than you imagined and more agitated than you felt. his expression hardened again and his smile fell, he shook his head. 
“sorry, i just thought i forgot my phone.”
you stood there and looked about the room. you felt the atmosphere in the room change and as you looked at him more closely you could see the outline of his phone in his jean pocket. he didn't know you had noticed, and you were confused as to why he was really here. not wanting to drag on this interaction longer than needed you quickly picked up your bag and began to walk toward the door. 
“I hope you find it.” you mumbled out. 
suddenly his body was blocking the doorway and you stopped a few feet away from him. your face burning red and confused about his behaviour. “you are not going to help me look?” he smiled and a sneakily glint in his eye made your heart skip a beat. was he flirting with you? you were very up to date with the gossip and knew he had a suspected girlfriend so his behaviour was even more shocking to you. 
“oh sorry.” you mumbled dumbly, not knowing what to say. you knew he had his phone and you weren't about to embarrass yourself by crawling all over the floor looking for it. 
“i've got to edit this interview i'm afraid, so if you wouldn't mind letting me pass.” you looked down at the ground as you spoke and mentally cursed yourself at the fact that your voice came out much weaker than you intended. 
“okay.” you could hear the smile in his voice, “i apologise ma douce.” my sweet. you didn't know what he had just called you but the french nickname paired with his voice made your heart sway and even more blush burned on your cheeks. he moved from the doorway with a charming smile and allowed you to pass through. 
your feet felt like jelly underneath you but somehow you carried yourself through the paddock back to your work area, a smile gracing your pretty features at what had just happened. but you couldn't allow anything to happen and you knew that, he had a girlfriend and it was your job to interview him. this is so wrong you told yourself. sliding a hand over your face to try to compose yourself, you began to start editing the interview. 
you paused in shock, watching over the footage you saw how charles gaze almost never left you throughout the whole interview. he was starting at you like an animal and you didn't know why. shock graced your features even more to see how he clearly was checking you out and when you spoke to carlos, his eyes even darkened in a overprotective manner. who was he to get so possessive over you? you had just met? anger started to replace the feelings of shock and you wanted to storm back into ferrari to give him a piece of your mind… 
┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ 。˚ ✧
pt2?
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justcallmeanobsessor · 8 months
Text
-Puppy Love-
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-Trigger Warnings: Dub-Con, Sexual Content, Animalistic Behavior, Slight Gore, Mentions of Blood/Claws, Pouncing on reader, Violence, Monster, knotting
-Pairing: Male Werewolf x gn Vampire!reader
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INTRO:
His hot breath fans across my face. His heavy body lays atop me, warming my cold skin. His eyes look at me as if I'm his prey, entirely forgetting about the mangled corpse that lies just a few feet away. This look is one of a man that has been starved for years and has just caught sight of his favorite treat. It runs chills across my spine and I can almost feel my once pumping heart skipping a beat. This is wrong, so very wrong, it wasn't meant to be like this but how hard it is to refuse him when he begs me so earnestly with those puppy dog eyes.
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The night was a full moon, the perfect time for a hunt, though the human that had caught my eye seemed to think otherwise. Instead it decided to make this way harder with running from me. ‘Great.’ I cursed with annoyance but before I could even go after the blood bag, a ball of dark brown fur barreled in front of me towards the panicking human. The human could barely get even 10 more feet away till it was caught in the teeth of the fury creature. 
To say I was pissed is an understatement. This mangy mutt just stole my meal right from under me. “Hey! That was my catch!” He didn't even bother to look up from what was supposed to be my drink for the night, instead he just kept ripping apart pieces of flesh and eating with no care for cleanliness, like some damn rabid animal.
I couldn't hold back my anger any longer from this insolent bastard. I walked up to him and with all my strength I ripped him off the mangled flesh, pinning him to a tree so we are chest to chest or more like my face to his chest. He was tall to say the least, I had to crank my neck back to meet his eyes.
I bared my fangs at him, hissing in a warning as he snarled a low grumble. “Get. Off. Me.”
His growled words did not faze me in my blinded rage. “That was MY catch, you damned fleabag!” I shouted at him, unable to comprehend my own anger and annoyance,  “You were too slow.” He smirked, baring his canines at me “That's your excuse!” This guy was pushing my patience.
“Food is food, I don't need an excuse to eat, angel.” I paused, the word of endearment he had called me caught me off guard as I stared wide eyed at him in silence, a warmth spreading across my face, most of me disgusted at what he had called me and the other half kinda lik- I quickly shook my head as I noticed him still staring at me with that stupid ass smirk. “Just! stay out of my way you mangy mutt!” “Anything for you angle” He winked at me as I let him go, shoving him a bit as I did so. He then left, without even another glance at neither the once living prey nor me.
—----------------------------------------------------
A month had passed since that annoying encounter and instead of staying out of my way, he seemed to be popping up even more. Always to intercept or disturbed my meals and always with that. Same. Stupid. Smirk. “Having a nice meal angle?” “To slow, again angle” “Fancy seeing you hear angle.” He's a pest that's what he is, a pest that I can't get rid of. 
I was once again back on another hunt that had turned successful. As I stood in the midst of the dark forest with my fangs deep in the neck of an unsuspecting human girl. Drops of blood ran down my chin as I drank my fill, humming with delight of finally getting something to drink after days without anything because of that pesky mutt. 
Sadly my peace was quickly cut short at the sound of rapid footsteps approaching and the heavy scent of musk filling my sense of smell to a point that it made my head spin and my mind turn foggy. I was brought out of my haze by the feeling of my back hitting the cold forest ground. A large frame was above me, laying all its wait on my body, pinning me between the ground and its warm body. Its pants brushed over my face with a scent of iron on its breath. 
As I looked up I was pissed to see the one and only smug ass fleabag laying on top of me. Though It took me a bit to notice that instead of having his usual smirk, he looked at me with a flushed face and begging eyes. It was disgusting how that cocky bastard could revert to such a state with no shame, has he no self respect? 
That thought was further solidified as he started to grind against me and to my horror, his length was already hard and prodding at my clothed entrance. He whined and whimpered into my ear. “Please, please, Please~” He begged over and over again. A blush now starting to arise on my cheeks without my wanting. The scent of him started to make ressisting become even harder as it clouded my mind. This was wrong, this was SO wrong. Our kinds are enemies, we would become outcasts if anyone ever found out but no matter how wrong it was, it just felt. So. Very. Right. So in my foggy state my resistance faltered and I said “Yes.” 
He wasted no time in ripping off every piece of clothing that was separating our bodies from each other. After throwing the tattered pisces somewhere behind him, he put his body flush against mine once again. His fur was softer than I had imagined and the scent of him seemed to be embedded into every strand of brown fur. He rubbed himself against me, scenting my body and providing stimulation to his weeping cock that hung between us, hard and much larger than anything I could imagine. “That's not going to fit!” I cried to him, he responded with licks to my face, cleaning off the blood from my chin. If this was his way of trying to comfort me it definitely was not working.My mind panicked, knowing that this was going to hurt. 
He positioned himself between my legs and with his clawed hands, pulled my feet to rest on his shoulders, bending me to better angle his head to my quivering hole. I had thought maybe some side of him was still rational and he would at least take it slow but I guess I underestimated his animalistic side, because within a few seconds he slammed into me with a forceful thrust, sheathing his whole cock inside of me with one movement. His hands held my hips to keep me in place, which further intensified the feeling of his length filling every inch inside of me.
My mouth had fallen agape in a silent scream. My back arching off the ground as he continued to thrust into me, not giving my body a single second to adjust to his size. My hands clambered for something to hold on to, finding the soft fur of his back and griping the fur with all my strength, pulling every so often, making a low groan come from the whimpering beast above me. 
He sped up his movements, thrusting into my depths like an animal in heat. I look down to where his cock is spreading to me only to see a bump from right above my pelvis every time he enters me. Just the sight pulls a moan from my throat. 
I throw my head back when he angles himself that hits a spot inside of me, immediately drawing me to an orgasam that leaves my body trembling with pleasure. My hole grips around his length as he continues to thrusts. I start to feel the base of his cock grow, stretching me even more and with one last thrust deep inside of me, he releases his seed with a loud moan, collapsing on top of me. 
Pants are all that are heard in the dark forest, his body rests on me as we come down from our highs. The knot at the base of his cock connects us and makes it impossible to detach from each other without something being damaged. After a few minutes he raises his head to look at me, a smirk back on his face. He moves to pick me up from the ground, my legs dropping to wrap around his waist. As he holds me to be level with his smug face. He says one thing that makes my whole body both turn frigid and go completely hot. “My Mate.” Shit.
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