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13lov · 7 months

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tethered. | jjk

Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."

You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.

✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 7k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayel (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!jk, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.

✰ a/n. really love this pairings and would love to have drabbles with them in the future, so pls lmk if u guys would be interested in that! thanks for all the love on the teaser, hope u enjoy! <3

✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker

Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him.

Jeon Somi isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Jungkook is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.

Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Jungkook very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible.

Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.

It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Somi for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him.

So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Somi, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.

"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Somi delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.

She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."

Deep down, Somi knows Jungkook won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.

As you're about to ask Somi if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.

You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Jungkook's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.

His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.

Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.

He nods at you, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?

"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.

Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.

"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”

It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.

You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.

When you turn to leave, Jungkook stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.

A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Somi is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Jungkook to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.

"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Jungkook interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.

You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you.

A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.

It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.

You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister.

It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Jungkook definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?

Jungkook hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway.

So you leave.

You tell Somi you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.

The following day isn't any easier.

Somi posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Jungkook posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Jungkook farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.

"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Jungkook responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'

It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.

Maybe it's for the best that Jungkook's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him.

And you most certainly did.

The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Somi brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Jungkook on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.

You’re better off without him.

That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Jungkook's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Somi (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco.

Jungkook was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.

It took days of convincing until Jungkook finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Somi moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Somi for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.

He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.

Some of you have debated telling Somi about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.

Somi has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Somi. She had other plans, however.

"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."

Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Somi looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.

One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Somi has to practically yank you through the front door.

Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Somi even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Somi would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen.

"Thirsty?" Somi questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.

"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Somi pours something into your cup.

"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.

Somi suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did.

"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.

You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."

You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.

That's when it hits you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.

It's Jungkook. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.

You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.

Panicked, you reach for Somi's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.

Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Somi towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."

"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning."

Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."

Somi squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.

"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"

"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.

"What are you doing here?" Somi throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Jungkook steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.

"But—"

"Go."

Somi's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Jungkook looks at you. "What?"

"You too."

"I'm not—"

"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.

Trudging up the stairs behind Somi, you wait with her in the hallway until Jungkook arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Somi protest; there really isn't any point.

As soon as the door is shut, Somi is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Jungkook says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"

Somi glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Jungkook, takes a deep breath, then agrees.

"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Somi to calm down enough to let him speak.

"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."

Jungkook scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"

Somi nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Jungkook is your brother, anyway.

"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Somi mumbles, barely able to look Jungkook in the eye.

"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"

"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Somi glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.

You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Jungkook flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).

"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"

"Same way we got here."

"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Somi shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"

Jungkook's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."

"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Somi asks the exact question you had.

Jungkook shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."

You and Somi exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?

"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Somi questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.

"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."

It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Jungkook says he's taking the two of you home. Somi, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Somi is really good at getting what she wants, or if Jungkook was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.

"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Jungkook scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.

A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Jungkook! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"

"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.

You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Jungkook just reffered to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Jungkook had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.

What the actual fuck.

The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Somi has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.

"It's time, Somi," you interrupt, helping her stand.

"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"

"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.

Somi is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Jungkook's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"

You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."

Stunned, Somi gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."

"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."

"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"

Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling.

"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.

Somi snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."

Now, you really have to test the waters.

"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Jungkook? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.

A beat of silence passes as Somi gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."

"What?"

You've finally reached Jungkook's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Somi shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."

"First?" You mimic.

"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"

This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Jungkook.

You go to respond, but Jungkook, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.

There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.

He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Somi opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.

Jungkook calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."

Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Somi more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.

Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.

Somi and Jungkook bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Jungkook even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it.

Jungkook parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.

"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Somi questions, stretching her arms outward.

"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Jungkook turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."

Mockingly, Somi points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Jungkook had in her.

You turn to go, but Jungkook's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"

"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.

Jungkook shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"

"No, but it's fi—"

"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."

It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Jungkook because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.

"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Somi, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Somi shushes you, gesturing that Jungkook is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Jungkook genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.

She does finally, and Jungkook resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Jungkook humming along to the radio.

He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."

You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."

"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."

Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.

"Well, I only went because Somi was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.

"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."

"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.

Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"

"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.

"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Mingyu, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Jungkook does confuses you.

"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."

"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"

Pause. Boyfriend?

You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Jungkook. "Boyfriend?" You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"

There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?

After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Jungkook, I do not have a boyfriend."

"Good. Focus on school."

Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.

"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.

"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."

"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.

He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.

"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Somi get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."

He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

The following day, Somi is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.

"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.

You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice.

"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.

"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.

Somi clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."

"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.

You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Jungkook strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.

Perhaps you should stay.

"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend.

Somi wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Somi makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.

And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Somi bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.

Jungkook's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.

He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You ask.

"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body.

"Who?"

"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.

You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."

"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Somi wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.

You let him know you'll ask Somi if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Jungkook directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.

"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"

"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."

"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Jungkook's gaze locks on yours.

"Yeah? It is?" He questions.

You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."

He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.

"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.

"For what? Calling me your sister?"

He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."

Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted.

"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."

"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."

Jungkook raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."

There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.

"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.

"Awkward about what?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?

"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."

Jungkook looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."

What?

"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.

He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Jungkook asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.

After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Jungkook on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another.

"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I never did." You lie.

"Really? That sucks?"

"Why?"

He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."

You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap.

Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Jungkook can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"

"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"More than anything."

He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.

You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger.

"Jungkook…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.

"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"

You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Jungkook doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you.

"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.

His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.

You curse under your breath, and Jungkook makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.

You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.

Jungkook is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.

You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.

Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym.

He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"

You nod.

"Use your words."

“I’m okay, Jungkook.”

"You're still okay with this?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.

"I'm positive." You assure him.

You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Jungkook catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.

He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Jungkook was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.

He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"

"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.

Jungkook must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"

"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.

You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.

"You can move, just…not too much. Please."

Jungkook nods, "Whatever you want, angel."

He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.

That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking.

"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.

Jungkook picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.

He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Jungkook finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.

"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

As much as you would love to lay naked with Jungkook in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Somi will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."

He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Jungkook awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.

Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest.

"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.

You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Jungkook reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.

You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty.

Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Jungkook had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?

Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to?

You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Somi you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.

The next time a Jeon sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Somi finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.

"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.

#bts #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook scnenario #jungkook smut #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenario

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simpxxstan · 1 month

Text

Nobody Else (jww oneshot: part 1)

pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader

genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst, fluff in part 2

summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?

chapter word count: 13k

warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!

a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.

hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. part 2 coming soon ^^ do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!

You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo.

Objectively speaking, no.

Subjectively speaking, not at all.

You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd.

So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months.

After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did.

It was all a part of the act, you knew that.

It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this.

Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug.

Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate.

But never enough.

“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”

He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue.

His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”

“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.

“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”

“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”

“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?

From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you.

“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.

You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you.

“Do you need help?”

You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself?

He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care.

“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”

“But you just wore lipstick?”

“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him.

“Well, how do I look?”

His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort.

“They’ll love you.”

You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.

“They always do.”

And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain.

Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong.

But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!”

And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds.

Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find.

He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing.

“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye.

“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in.

“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”

You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”

“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.”

You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.”

“Rich of you to say so.”

You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.”

“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories.

You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else.

The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up.

It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life.

But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life.

It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.

Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn.

“Wonwoo… I can’t…” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?”

And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep.

Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name.

And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man.

And you had liked it.

That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.

Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again.

You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house.

“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”

“The chauffeur was there.”

“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago.

“Are you sure?”

His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.

“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward.

“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”

“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”

You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”

“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious.

“What are your terms?”

You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks.

No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows.

You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.

“Hello?”

“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”

The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.

“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”

“I can get my own. See you there.”

He cuts the call.

What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-

“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?”

“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time.

Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve.

“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”

Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office.

Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city.

You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.

There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there.

“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”

Fun.

As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day.

“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”

“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”

They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough.

“Will you never leave me alone?”

He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”

“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”

“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”

“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”

“Hmm-”

The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you.

“What did you say?” You whisper to him.

“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”

“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous.

“For dinner.”

You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”

He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”

“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”

“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable.

“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”

“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”

“I regret nothing.”

“We’ll see.”

“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”

“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis.

“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.”

“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”

“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”

“You won’t come along?”

“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”

Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”

“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”

You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening.

You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works.

“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”

You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”

Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss.

“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-”

“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.

Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”

Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.

“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.”

Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”

“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise.

“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.”

“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”

“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.”

Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”

At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right.

“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”

You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display.

“You came. I knew you’d come.”

“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down.

“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.”

“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”

“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”

“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.”

“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”

You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.”

“I want to fuck you against this railing.”

You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him.

“What?”

“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard.

“Aren’t there cameras?”

“Will pay for them to be turned off.”

“That’s probably illegal.”

“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”

You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination.

“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk.

You shake your head.

“Say it.”

“I want it too.”

“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?

“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.

“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.

“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip.

“Sir please!”

“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”

“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”

He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you.

But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels.

It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck.

Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.

“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.”

You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.”

That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly.

Fuck.

What have you done?

“How late am I?”

“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.”

“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.

By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.

After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles.

Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again.

Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?

Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure.

After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It’d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to.

You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself.

It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only.

Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure.

“It’s one of those nights, huh?”

He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant.

“How’s work treating you?”

“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?

“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?

“Come here, princess.”

That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same.

“Hmm, low sugar.”

Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly.

As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on.

“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt.

It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with).

You wonder why he’s so happy.

But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well.

“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him.

He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in.

“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty.

“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”

“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once.

“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this.

“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”

He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.”

“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.”

“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.

“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”

The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you.

You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate.

Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes.

Your shirt is ripped again.

You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands.

“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”

He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”

“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”

“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”

“Wonwoo!”

“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”

His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.

“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”

“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”

“This arrangement has to stop.”

He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-

“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not-”

“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”

“Wonwoo-”

“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.

“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms.

“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-”

“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”

His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter.

“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.”

Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like a you problem, like why-”

You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away.

“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.”

He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”

You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him?

“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?”

You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?”

“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?”

You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?”

��Darl-”

“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”

“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, “you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”

You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too.

You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister.

“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”

“No. Why? Are you coming over?”

“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”

“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?”

“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.

“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand.

“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place? Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!

“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”

“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions.

“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones.

“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.”

You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.”

“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”

Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin.

“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products.

“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.”

“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice.

It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone.

“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks.

“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.

“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes.

Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.

“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.

“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”

Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”

“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table.

You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?”

“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.

“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing.

“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”

“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”

“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”

“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”

“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”

You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”

“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”

That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.

“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”

Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”

Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair.

“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.

“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”

“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty.

“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”

“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know.

Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.

Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.”

You sigh, and nod your yes.

a/n: see you in the next part!!!!

908 notes · View notes

solarlunarsstuff · 6 months

Note

HEY! i adore your writing :) i was wondering if you could write a semi long one shot abt reader riding mike and him being super sensitive and him whining and moaning and calling him a good boy and maybe like… spitting in his mouth… LMAOOOO

LMAO, U READ MY MIND FR ALSO, UR LITERALLY MY FIRST ASK, TY FOR THAT HERES AN AWARD 4 YOU🏅

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☆ Her Whiny Boy ☆

Synopsis: Even if he started the teasing it'll always end in him being a big whiny mess, and him being so sensitive.

Tw: Dacryphilia, spitting, foul language, sub!Mike and dom!Reader, dick riding, marking, penatrative sex (p in v), and pet names.

A/n: ILYYY FOR THE REQUEST GIVING YOU BIG FOREHEAD KISSIES MWAH🫶🫶🫶

For a start, Mike and you have been friends since you were both about 5 years old. He was sitting on the elementary school's swing.

You obviously decided to talk to him. That was about 20 years ago, you yourself thought that the relationship wouldn't go that far but here you are now.

Sitting on Mike's bed while he was all hot and bothered, all pressed up against you. He had his lips attached to yours for the past 10 minutes, Mike wanted more. He needed more.

But you knew, oh you knew how to pull his strings. Mike was leaning against the headrest of his bed with you straddling his lap.

You started to slowly grind into him, you tugged on his hair lightly to see his reaction. Mike's moan was muffled between the heated make out.

"F-fuck, {Y/n}, pl-please" he whined out.

You knew he needed it, but you don't want to just hand it to him, no no. You had to tease him back.

You didn't answer but you did grind down harder, he let a groan move past his lips while his head lolled back.

"Hmmm, how about I get you a little ready first? Sounds good, ay?" You taunted his neediness

Fuck he looked so hot, he looked so disheveled that it was attractive. His hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, you and Mike were both fully dressed making it a bit hard to get friction.

You reached your arms out for the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head, he obliged and puts his arms up for more access.

Once you got his shirt over he wanted you to take yours off but you thought otherwise, you instantly grabbed his hands and put it to your hips that were still moving up along his crotch area.

"No, you're not allowed to touch me just yet." You reminded him

Mike whined once again, shit you needed more. You got up off of him and looked down, he had a spot on his pants that were wet. That was sent straight to your core making you soak your pretty black laced panties.

Fuck it. You pulled your top up and over yourself to reveal that you didn't have anything under, you took note that Mike had been palming himself through his jeans.

You moved closer to him letting out a big huff while gripping the sides of his pants and pulling them down past him ankles, catching his boxers along with it and onto the floor where your top was.

You were nearly drooling at his cock, he twitched making him embarrassed and tried covering his beautiful face. While giving him a few experimental pumps and saw how his tip leaked a bit of precum and he grew a bit bigger which you thought was impossible.

You let go and stood up off the bed and onto the floor to shimmy out of your own pants, also catching your laced panties and tossing it into the pile of clothing on the wooden floor.

Crawling back onto him, straddling his thighs while pumping him a little again. You brought your right hand up to your mouth and spit just to lather it into his ready dick.

Mike moaned through his anticipation of wanting to touch you. He wanted to touch you, your body, your everything. Mike needed to touch your soft skin with his rough hands.

"You can touch me now, Mike." You finally replied

Mike was so eager he dove straight for your breasts, massaging them and giving them kitten licks so they would harden from his heated muscle.

You reached for his head and shoved it into your chest more, he was like a starved man. He took the opportunity and used his whole mouth sucking and leaving hickeys on your breast so he could see them turn into a pretty purple later on.

While he was stuffed between your tits, he looked up at you with his beautiful brown colored eyes, it broke something in you.

You pulled his head away by tugging a bit harder on his hair to move him, he let out a hng from the pressure. That made your core dampen even more.

You lifted yourself up a bit and grabbed the length of his cock and positioned it in front of your sopping entrance.

You sat your whole weight down into him, you both whined in unison. Your eyes rolled back while you sat there for a moment to make sure you could adjust to his size.

You slowly started to move, you were steadily sat on his lap. Mike's cock buried deep in you, you'd think he'd split you, which he was. But you loved every single second of it.

"{Y/n}- hiccup -fuckkkk, need more. Need t' move in you." Mike complained

God he was a mess and loved him because of how he acted. At this point you started to bounce on him, he couldn't take it. Mike had reached his arms out and had a death grip on your hips.

He moved you up and down with his hands on your hips, his breathing was unsteady and his whimpers and cries of shit don't stop, m' so close didn't help you out either.

"Open your mouth." You demanded him

He indulged and open his mouth along with lolling his tongue out, you used your left hand to hold his face in place while your right was resting on his thigh for stability.

While still riding him you spat in his mouth and called him dirty slurs while you assisted his dick that was stretching you out greedily.

"Hah, being- fuck. Being such a good boy f' me aren't you.. letting me spit in your mouth." You mocked at him

Your walls spasmed around his cock that told him you were close, you rested your hands on his shoulders.

"I'm gonna- fuckin' cu-!" You blurted out

Your sopping wet cunt tightened our him and came, leaving your slick on his cock and lower stomach.

He was ramming into you at this point, his dick was kissing your cervix which made you want to cum again.

As soon as you came back from your delusions, he came, and hard. You swear your eyesight went white.

You were both breathing heavily from your highs.

"You did so good.." you mumbled while collapsing onto Mike's chest.

He didn't say anything but tightened the embrace and kissed your forehead.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

A/n: I feel like I did a shitty job one this one but I did it woo-hoo! Also I'm sorry again if it's to short my luvs :(

#smut #fnaf smut #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #michael afton #michael afton x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #dacryphilia #marking

1K notes · View notes

gasstationlady · 7 months

Text

tom holland’s school of manifestation | a charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x supermodel!reader

charles has a big crush on world renowned supermodel, y/n l/n. who would’ve thought she’d return the feelings.

notes: very much travis kelce x taylor swift inspired. faceclaim is yasmin wijnaldum! btw i try to improve with each post (like how i write/pace the story) so if you have any suggestions, pls (veryvery kindly) tell me!! :))

disclaimer: SORRY FOR TYPOS. GOOGLE TRANSLATE (and from american high school lol) FRENCH. KYM ILLMAN MENTIONED LOL. none of the information in this social media au is factual. i do use old photos of charlotte and charles, and usually i don't like to include pictures of their ex or current gfs in these fics (only bc i want to keep it as imaginative as possible and i feel like adding them kinda gives you a reality check while reading LOL) so lmk your opinions on that!

masterlist

voguemagazine

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 854,487 others

voguemagazine Since beginning modeling at the age of 14, Y/N L/N has cemented herself as the most influential supermodel of all time. As of 2023, she is now the world’s highest paid model surpassing Kendall Jenner who previously led the list. Throughout her career, she has made 39 appearances on international Vogue covers.

Tap the link in our bio to read the full profile. Photographed by @/leannafitz, Written by Phil Stevenson, Styled by @/sheri_simmons, Vogue, February 2023.

View all 942 comments

user MOTHER IS MOTHERING

user omg as someone who has been a fan since she began in 2011, i’m so proud of her 😭

user she's the definition of perfection

user LOL ariana (charles), what are you doing here

↳ user his little crush on her is soo cute 😩

↳ user he’s just like us fr lmaoo

user her walk is legendary like it reminds me so much of naomi

user i was gonna say she’s the model of our generation but that’s wrong. she’s actually the top model of all time 😩😩😩

user i’m glad to see a non-nepo baby be on top of the list

↳ user no literally like no shade to bella, kendall, and them but y/n had to fight tooth and nail to be here

↳ user frrr bc most of the nepo baby models are great, don’t get me wrong. however, they were allowed to make mistakes during their career in order to improve. y/n was not privileged enough to have that. like ppl don’t understand the insane expectations that were placed on her ever since she entered the industry, but she exceeded those expectations every. single. time. and that’s why she deserves this title

user she’s so beautiful

user i would die for y/n

user nothing could describe the amount of affection i have for this woman omfg

charleslc_updates

42,077 likes

charleslc_updates Charles and Arthur talking about Y/N L/N (again lol) in a recent interview 👀

View all 396 comments

user lmaoooooo relatable

user omg i'm new to f1 but i've always been a y/n stan i'm freaakkkinng out but wdym again??

↳ user lmaooo charles is always trying to bring up y/n

user the leclerc brothers 🥰🥰

user it was so cute to see the both of them in one video

user this man fr blushed AHAH cute

user i get it charles i too have the biggest crush on y/n

↳ user lol literally like get in line dude

↳ user back of the line bucko

user i've never seen a man so down bad for someone he's never met

user y/n what are you doing girl if you don't want him ILL DO IT

user @/yourusername

↳ user LMAO YESSS @/yourusername

ynupdates

239,095 likes

ynupdates Y/N opening the 2023 Chanel by Karl Lagerfeld show during Paris Fashion Week.

View all 3,977 comments

user omg she absolutely killed it

user god does she need a dog? i can bark

user i love seeing her thrive

user quick charles this is your chance!!! she’s in paris 😭😭😭 @/charles_leclerc

↳ user lmaooooo not you tagging him but literally though

↳ user no srsly please mr. "i hope our paths cross soon" you don't understand i need this to happen

user yall saw that walk??? ugh y/n the woman that you are

user i don’t get the hype. all she does is walk.

user NAHHHH SHE ATEEE THAT

user i’m so happyyyy 🥺 y/n is so booked and busy she’s really out here doing multiple back to back shows for paris fashion week

↳ user same! it’s crazy that she gets to open and close multiple shows, especially ones like chanel!

user i love that so many people are going to these shows just to see y/n

user i could make this exact dress with my curtains

user if i ever meet her in real life i would die happily

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, bellahadid and 5,490,124 others

yourusername rien de mieux que d'etre a la maison [no place like home]

View all 12,658 comments

gigihadid sexy lady

↳ yourusername already missing you

user i keep forgetting she's part french

user you absolutely KILLED those shows

voguemagazine iconic ⭐️

alexademie 🔥🔥

user beautiful girl!!

user omggg charles liking this LOL

↳ user it's actually frustrating me that this man has no game like i'm rooting for you cmon

↳ user lmaooo literally though i'm just hoping he's pulling some strings behind the scenes

anokyai 😍😍😍

user la plus belle fille [the most beautiful girl] *liked by charles_leclerc

↳ user if this is him shooting his shot 😭😭

↳ user lol charles is down so bad he's even going through the comments

user am i just crazy but why are there two drinks in the second post? like is this supposed to be a very soft launch

↳ user it's probably gigi 😭😭 she did comment saying that they were hanging out with each other

↳ user but why not just take a pic of her tho

deuxmoi

31,844 likes

deuxmoi Y/N L/N & Charles Leclerc spotted hanging out with each other in Paris

View all 992 comments

user NO WAY OMG

user i'm actually in disbelief how tf did charles get here

user i knew you could do it charles!!

user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

user so are they dating???

user CHARLES FR WINNING RN AHAH

↳ user NO LITERALLYYY HES BEEN DREAMING ABOUT THIS FOR AGES

↳ user he manifested this 😭

user they look sooo good together

user why does he look so srs

↳ user give my man a break 😩

↳ user well it looks like he’s not your man anymore 😭😭

user omgg this is like a fairytale

user wait i'm kinda obsessed with this

user i’m so invested

kymillman

201,885 likes

kymillman Y/N AND CHARLES

Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc is joined at the track today by top supermodel, Y/N L/N. This is the first time Y/N is with him and she clearly shines in front of the camera.

Her debut at the grid has quickly become a popular topic as fans and drivers alike are intrigued by the presence of one of the most famous women in the world.

For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com #f1 #formula1 #signedprints #japanesegp #CharlesLeclerc #Y/NL/N

View all 971 comments

user SHDJEJ IM ACTUALLY GOING FERAL

user mom and dad 😩

user so it’s official???

↳ user i mean this is the hardest launch they could have done other than posting 😭

user i’m a charles fan and even i’m surprised he got her to date him

user i’m rooting for them so much 🥺🥺

user she’s serving though

user i’m watching the race rn and they literally keep talking about y/n being there AHH

↳ user i always forget she’s kind of a big deal

user kym gets on my nerves but this picture is actual gold

user it's so obvious that this is a publicity stunt

↳ user nah but for who? bc i know damn well that neither charles nor y/n need it

↳ user obviously not for them but maybe it's to gather more attention for f1

↳ user girl i need u to listen to urself rn 😭 bc that makes no sense

user idk who charles is and idk what the hell f1 is but best believe i’m tuning in next race just to see y/n

↳ user literally me girl i can’t believe i’m watching cars drive in a circle rn

yn_updates

91,922 likes

yn_updates Some moments of Y/N being mentioned by drivers during the Formula 1 race

View all 1,061 comments

user i swear it was like every minute i'd hear y/n's name

user the way that all the drivers are aware of charles's long time obsession with y/n LOL

↳ user i just know charles is the type to never shut up about her ahaha

user she's literally THE y/n l/n. i mean if viewers are sky rocketing just by her being there, imagine her impact if she had actively promoted it

↳ user she's so iconic

↳ user no bc i love y/n so much that i just forced myself to watch rich grown men vroom vroom in circles for almost 2 hrs just to catch a glimpse of her

user i'm in love with her life

user LMAOOO THE DRIVERS TEASING CHARLES

user lando's so funny 😭😭

user y/n and f1 stans are being FED today wow

user is it just me or am i kinda annoyed about how often they're bringing her up like my girl can't even support her bf in peace

↳ user yea i'm eating it up but also feeling bad for y/n at the same time. the attention is definitely a double edge sword.

user apparently she was with joris most of the time 🥺

user this is literally straight from a fairy tale i can't

user didn't they just meet like a week ago

↳ user as far as we know they were first spotted together about a month ago by that deuxmoi post. but assuming from y/n and charles's past relationships, i don't think they'd be this comfortable going public without being together for a while

↳ user yea this has definitely been going on longer than we think/have been seeing

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, gigihadid, landonorris and 7,712,083 others

charles_leclerc J'ai toujours su que c'était toi. Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour ❤️ [I've always known it was you. Happy birthday, my love]

View all 34,511 comments

yourusername merci, mon cœur ❤️ [thank you, my heart]

yourusername je suis raide dingue de toi [i'm madly in love with you]

↳ charles_leclerc l'amour de ma vie [the love of my life]

user are we interrupting something...

user i can’t believe it’s already been 6 months since they first went public

user throwing myself down the stairs as we speak

user they don't know it yet but we're actually a throuple

user happy birthday y/n!!!

user in love with their love 🥺

user lmfaoooo i just know charles is on cloud 9 this man literally sees y/n and is blind to everything else

↳ user he's sooo cute, he's like a love sick puppy

user i still think this is a pr relationship

user god i'd die for someone to look at me the way charles looks at y/n in that second pic

user this is my roman empire

user i'm so obsessed with them it's insane

user our generation's brad and angelina

↳ user don't say that wtf my parents are never separating

user pls don't ever breakup 😭😭

#f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc social media au #supermodel!reader #f1 smau #f1 fic #charles leclerc fic

2K notes · View notes

allysunny · 4 months

Note

Pls pls pls friends to lovers with an ass load of pining!!! I love the trope where literally everyone but her can see that he’s in love with her and they’re basically dating without the title. She’s in love with him too but a little more guarded/scared. They have fun traditions like a book club, and Bruce gives her the princess treatment. Pls pls pls, I’d literally love you forever if you wrote this

Obliviously in Love | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 15k words

Warnings: Friends to lovers, pining, two idiots in love but way too blind to see it, Alfred being a very sassy butler (I love Michael Cane sm), possibly OOC Bruce (I've never written for him before), some angst, love confessions, Christmas! and mistletoe, eventual romance of course! Not beta, we die like Harvey Dent.

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Sorry for the delay, but as I told you, uni was kicking my ass. I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to write a lot!

So, this is my first Bale!Bruce request, and I'm so excited, but at the same time I'm super, super nervous because I've never written for this man in my entire life? I love this trilogy so bad and even rewatched all the movies as I was doing this, because I wanted to make sure I got him right. Sure, he's a vigilante and a billionaire and a supposed playboy, but he's also just a man, and I sort of wanted to explore that.

There's so many layers to this man, it is insane. If there's anything OOC about him, please do let me know. I swear to god I tried my best, and I hope you like the finished result.

This is my longest word so far - I'm so sorry! It was supposed to be kinda short and sweet but I just ran with it! I don't know if it was for the better or worst, but I hope you guys like it nevertheless. Again, I'm sorry if it's somewhat OOC, I tried to get everyone's personalities just right. I'm scared of not doing these movies justice. I also took some liberties with this - Bruce and Rachel don't have feelings for each other, Bruce often goes to charity galas, etc. Small things.

Also, it's set somewhat in between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight!

Anyways, enjoy!

Bruce Wayne was a lonely man.

Not that he minded, really.

Ever since he was a child, he knew most people were after him and his family for the money. Family friends cashing in favours done ages ago, things as small as having once lent his father an umbrella, women pretending to befriend his mother to accompany her whenever she went shopping, kids at school getting closer to him only to get a peek at the famed Wayne Manor and all the wonders it hid inside.

He'd rather be alone than have such leeches around him, surrounding him like vultures, waiting for an opening.

Kids who'd mocked him would apologise profusely days later, having learned about his family, offering their friendship. Once Bruce made it clear he had no intentions of inviting anyone to his place (he was just shy, really), they'd take back their so called “friendship”.

He was better off without such people.

They were few, the people he could trust. And even those he called his “friends”, he didn't trust completely. His childhood best friend, Rachel, had grown up and busied herself at the DA’s office. She reached out to him after he’d returned after all those years in training, but she was a busy woman, and Bruce had found a new passion himself – patrolling the streets of Gotham dressed up as a bat. They would talk often, but it simply wasn’t the same. They were still friends of course – childhood could link two people – but he’d changed, and so had she. No matter how well they got along, they were changed people.

So, he was back to square one, with no people to truly confide in.

There was, after all, a reason only Alfred knew of his secret identity.

No, Bruce Wayne wasn't a stranger to loneliness.

He preferred the peace and quiet of his home office to the loud ambiences of the parties thrown by pretentious people who wanted to pass by as charitable, and found that sometimes, being by himself was a better option.

Bruce Wayne could count with his hands how many “friends” he had, and how many were simply greedy bloodsuckers trying to get to his fortune.

All but you, though.

Never you.

Bruce met you a few years ago, at the bakery you used to work at.

He wasn't a regular - hell, he didn't usually eat at places like those. Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, dined at the best restaurants - a truth universally acknowledged.

But after being stuck in traffic for about thirty minutes (he'd sent Alfred on a makeshift vacation, having miraculously been able to convince the old man to take some time for himself), he decided to exit the cab and go for a stroll.

It'd been a stressing day, with about a hundred reports coming in for him to sign at Wayne Enterprises, the prototypes for his new motorcycle had proved to be a failure, and he was simply exhausted. A walk would do him good, clear his head.

That's when he walked by the bakery, noticing the colourfully decorated cupcakes and pastries on the shelves. The pastel-coloured frostings seemed far too pretty to eat, and curiosity got the best of him, compelling him to go inside and purchase one.

That's when he first saw you.

You took a while to take his order, quickly informing him you were working all by yourself. One of your coworkers was in labour, the other on vacation. You were baking, cleaning and waitressing on your own.

Bruce was surprised, to say the least. You were taking over each station, keeping calm even under pressure and tending to each task diligently.

When asked who baked the frosted treats, you smiled and told him you baked those yourself. Apparently, it was your first time exposing them, the owner of the bakery finally giving you some leeway to try your own cakes and sweets.

“No one's tried them yet, though,” you said, sheepishly. “People don’t really want to try anything new. They’re scared my food is going to suck. I keep telling myself they’re just scared of change, you know. To keep my spirits high.”

“I hear that,” Bruce replied. If he knew anything about people, it was that they were all terrified of the unknown. “It’s Gotham – what can you do? You bump into lunatics every other day. I’ll have the one on the shop window, the one with the pink frosting.”

Your eyes sparkled then, and Bruce swore he’d do anything to see them shine again and again.

“Really?” you asked, a hopeful smile playing in your lips.

“Absolutely. It looks good.”

You gave him an enthusiastic nod and went to retrieve the cupcake, placing it on top of a small place along with a fork. He paid for the treat along with a cup of coffee and sat down on a nearby table.

Unlocking his phone, he found a few messages from Alfred, asking him if he hadn't burnt down the Manor yet. Sure, maybe he couldn't cook nor clean nor take care of himself that well, but that didn't warrant a fire brigade to go check up on him, now did it?

Burned to the ground, he texted back in a joking manner. All that's left are the red slippers I gave to you last Christmas. Hadn't you lost them? It's a miracle.

Alfred replied just as quickly.

Should've let them burn too. Hideous things.

Bruce chuckled, assuring his trusted butler all was well, and locking his phone once again.

If he looked from the corner of his eye, he could see you, nervously chewing on your lip while you looked at his plate expectantly.

Right, he thought. The cupcake.

Bruce tasted the coffee first, deciding it was far better than whatever he was drinking at his office, and slowly cut the cupcake with his fork (because why would he use his hands). HIs eyes widened once he finally bit into it.

It was good, really good. It tasted like strawberries - not that artificial strawberry flavoured crap he was sure was in most of the food out there - actual strawberries.

The frosting was sugary, but not too much that it became nauseous, and the mix of flavours melted in his mouth.

You’d approached him, breath hitched as you awaited his verdict.

“So?” You asked, after a while, giving him an apologetic smile. “How is it?”

“It’s good.”

“Really?” You graced him with the brightest of smiles, holding onto your little notepad. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Way to go, Bruce. Not corny at all. You’re the man.

Pulling the chair next to him, you sighed in relief and sat down.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I was so scared no one was gonna like them.”

“The people of Gotham are idiots if they don’t want to try these.” He took another bite of his cupcake and your smile only got bigger.

“Well, you said it. It’s Gotham. Even something as simple as a different coffee order will get their panties in a twist. Look at how everyone reacted to that Bat guy. He takes out a few criminals and cleans the streets, and suddenly he’s the bad guy?” you inquire.

“Bat guy?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know! Bat guy! They’re calling him the Batman. You’ve probably seen him on TV. Black cape, black cowl, black, well, clothes?”

“Ah,” he nodded, “The Batman, yes. I might have heard of him.” Might have. “What’s his deal anyway? I think the police are calling the guy a criminal.”

You scoffed, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “A criminal? The guy’s doing a better job than most cops. I think they’re just jealous. And pissed that someone’s not up for briberies.”

Bruce nodded, before turning to his cupcake. You thought what Batman did was right. He brimmed with pride.

“I don’t know – he sounds like your typical Arkham resident to me. Dressed like a bat, running around with a black cape?” It was practically wired into his brain by now, the way he attempted to detach his Bruce Wayne persona from his Batman one. Even if he’d just met you, even if you seemed genuine, he couldn’t help but keep up the façade. “They should probably lock him up.”

“That’s nonsense!” you exclaimed. “He’s the only one willing to do something right for this city. The only one who’s not being compensated by turning a blind eye to criminals like half of the GCPD are. The streets are safer with him around.”

So, he made you feel safe.

Well, not him – Batman did.

Bottom line was, he made you feel safe.

And wasn’t that the reason for all of this? To make Gotham a better place? To clean the streets, to give people some hope in amidst all the chaos and darkness? Wasn’t that his goal – to give Gotham citizens their city back to them, and allow them to live unruled by fear?

“Anyway - I’m sorry, here I am, sitting next to you while you probably want to eat by yourself. Gosh, I’m so sorry. Taking care of the shop by myself makes me feel a tad lonely.” You gave him another apologetic smile (although this one did not reach your eyes), and got up, hurrying behind the counter.

For a few moments, Bruce sat in silence, eating his cupcake, and sipping from his coffee. Good stuff – nothing like the ones Alfred prepared for him, but still good.

When he glanced back up, he watched as you quickly washed some dishes, brow furrowed in concentration. He took you all in, the way you carefully rinsed every dish, ensuring it was stable on the tray nearby before moving onto the next one. Once or twice, you looked up, observing the city through the windows. He saw you sigh softly and get back to work.

To say he was intrigued was an understatement. A big one.

It wasn’t only that you were strikingly beautiful – that helped too, quite a lot – but there was something more to you that Bruce couldn’t really pinpoint and wanted to get to know more of. He was tired of fake people. Of all the fake smiles and fake laughter and fake parties and having to pretend he was someone he simply wasn’t. It was all for the greater good, sure, but hiding behind a mask was draining. No one knew that better than Bruce Wayne.

Before he realised it, he’d stood up, placing his plate and cup on top of the counter. The soft “clack” of it made you turn around and your eyes widened slightly.

“Oh – “ you mumbled. “It’s okay, I usually just do that.”

“Lifting a cup and a plate won’t kill me, I assure you.”

You chuckled and took the dishes, turning to the sink.

“You’re not at all like what people say.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like they describe you,” you said with a small shrug. A strand of hair fell from behind your ear and Bruce’s hand twitched slightly, perhaps wishing to tuck it back himself.

“So you know who I am?” he asked, a curious smile forming in his lips. He wasn’t expecting to be completely ignorant of him – hell, it’s impossible to be unaware of his existence when you live in Gotham.

“I have a television and friends who love gossip magazines. It’s preposterous to think of a person who hasn’t come across your face, considering it’s slapped in nearly every tabloid ever.” You chuckled, soaking his plate. “And there was the matter of your credit card – I thought American Express was a myth.”

Bruce remained silent, which prompted you to go on.

“Everyone says you’re an arrogant jerk – “ The words come out of your mouth before you can process them, and he chuckles mentally, finding the way you stumbled over your words quite amusing. “I mean, that’s what they say – I’m not saying that you’re one, I just – I’m just repeating what’s been told to me. Anyway, yeah. You don’t seem like that at all.”

“And what makes you say that? We’ve spoken for all but five minutes,” he cocked an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting your answer.

You think for a while, gripping the towel at your hands and shrug again.

“I don’t know.” You turn to him. “Call it intuition, but I just felt like you were being genuine. I mean, you don’t have a bazillion models hanging off your arms – and it looked like you walked all the way here. No fancy sports car like the ones in the magazines either.” Another shrug. “You just seemed like a random guy when you walked in. No fancy titles whatsoever.”

Just a random guy.

Sometimes it felt like such a thing was unattainable for Bruce.

In front of the cameras, he had to be spoiled, rich, reckless playboy Bruce who bought hotels on a whim, hung around with hot models and spent his money on useless luxuries such as cars and yachts. When no one was watching, he had the weight of Gotham in his shoulders as Batman, sacrificing his mind and body every night just to make sure his people were safe.

It was impossible for Bruce to be just a random guy, no matter how much he wanted to.

But the way you said it – like you truly believed it – made him think twice about it.

You weren’t grovelling at his feet. Nor were you pretending not to know him as many others had done, in order to appear mysterious and different, and therefore catch his attention. No, you were just being you – or what he hoped was you. You knew who he was, admitted to seeing his face and knowing of his affairs, but that didn’t stop you from treating him like a normal person.

Just a random guy.

“Or maybe I’m just biased because you liked my cupcakes.” There it was again, that lovely smile of yours.

And you were funny too.

“I’ll admit, that was my tactic all along.” Bruce allowed a hint of playfulness to tint his voice, and your smile widened at that.

“Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Wayne.”

“Please, just Bruce.”

“Alright then. Your secret is safe with me, Bruce.” You smiled and went back to cleaning the counter. (You half expected him to leave without saying a word – why’d a billionaire entertain your company for more than a few minutes? – and were surprised when he stayed.)

“I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, but,” he started, “Would you like to join me for lunch one of these days?”

You eyed him curiously and cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Me? Really?”

“Exactly you.”

“Why? I don’t exactly belong with your people, Bruce – whoever they might be.”

“I was actually just hoping I’d get some free cupcakes.”

At this, you snorted out loud, covering your mouth with your hand. The other clients in the bakery looked at you with a slightly disgusted face, and it only made you laugh louder.

Once you stopped giggling (and after having wiped some tears from your eyes), you nodded and turned to him.

“Alright, fine. Lunch sounds great. Although – I’m sure you’re followed everywhere. And I don’t really want to be the latest gossip magazine cover.” You crossed your arms. Bruce nodded in understanding. After all, he knew how troublesome the media could be, especially when they were looking for any crumbs that might get them any insight into someone’s life.

(Un)fortunately for him, they couldn’t see past the playboy persona.

“I’ll take care of that – don’t worry.” Was his honest response. “Let’s say it’s easy for me to… become invisible.”

You leaned against the counter, smile ever so present.

“And how are you going to do that? Gonna wear a cap and sunglasses? A wig? Do we get to wear disguises? Maybe you could wear a mask!” Funny.

“I’ll just leave the American Express at home. Do you think that new Pizza place everyone’s been talking about accepts hundreds?” Bruce joked.

Your snort resonated through the bakery again, and the couple that had glanced at you earlier left, shaking their heads and muttering something about “decorum”.

The rest was history.

You and Bruce had become inseparable from that day onward.

Turns out that around you, he could be just a random guy, like he always wanted.

He started going to your bakery more and more, and convinced your boss to let you experiment with your cupcakes however you wanted.

“How the hell did you manage that?” you asked him, mouth open in wonder. “She told me I had full control of the menu! Two weeks ago, she said she didn’t want to try my sweets!”

“I’m very persuasive,” he replied, biting into a banana flavoured muffin – one of your more recent experiments. “It’s a bit chunky. Kind of bland, doesn’t melt on your mouth like the others do.”

“Yeah, I think I went overboard with the flour…” you mumble, writing something down on your notepad. “Anyways, how persuasive can you be? This woman has drunk the same cup of coffee for like, 40 years. She hates change.”

“Let’s just say I worked my regular Wayne charm.”

At that, you rolled your eyes and hit him with your towel but couldn’t hide the smile that graced your lips.

He’d stop by every day after work, eager to try out your new recipes and have a nice chat. It was freeing to have someone he could call his friend, with whom he could have conversations that weren’t about his job, his money, or his other affairs. It felt nice to be able to share things with you, things he couldn’t find it in himself to share with other people.

It took him a while, but he eventually told you things about himself. Slowly.

He told you about his parents, how much he looked up to his father and how he adored his mother. He told you about his childhood, playing in the gardens of his Manor or watching his father fiddle with the stethoscope, hoping one day he could make a difference just like him. He told you how sometimes he would just watch his mother apply makeup in her face, marvelling at how beautiful she looked. Other women of the high society always looked like they had this world and the next worth of makeup on their faces, but his mother was able to enhance all her natural features with a simple eye pencil or some lipstick.

“Makeup shouldn’t be used to turn yourself into something new,” she’d once told him, applying some sort of clear powder on her face. “Just to complement the beauty you already have.”

He found it easy to relate to that. Not the makeup, necessarily, but the whole “turning into a new person”. Batman was no different than him, nor was he someone different. He just brought out Bruce’s biggest desires, to keep Gotham safe.

In return, you told him about your childhood. About your first years in school, your friends and family. You told him about your passions, your wishes. How you wanted to travel the world and read as many books as possible. How you liked to laze around some Saturdays but couldn’t stay home and just had to get up and leave in others.

Bruce found the duality in you quite entrancing.

Some days, you’d be running around the Manor, goofing around with Alfred, and whipping up new recipes with him, the both of you jamming to old jazz that played on the radio – Alfred had been teaching you swing, and you enjoyed spinning around the room with him as lively tunes played.

(In fact, Bruce had walked in on you and him dancing a few times, and couldn’t help but lean against the doorway, watching and you laughed loudly and tried not to fall whenever his butler spun you around.)

It also went without saying that Alfred was over the moon now that his master no longer seemed to be alone. You might only be one person, but the Manor came alive whenever you were in it, and he relished in knowing Bruce finally had someone he could trust besides himself.

At first, Bruce thought of you as a friend. Someone he could confide in, someone to have a good time with and relax. But as weeks turned to months, he found himself developing stronger feelings. It wasn’t about “having fun” and relaxing anymore, it was now about seeing you, making sure you were alright, listening to your every thought and feelings.

He thought it was normal, though. After all, aren’t friends supposed to care for each other and be eager to spend time together? After all, it had been a while since he had friends. At least ones that spoke to him on the regular, that were there for him. This whole thing was new to him. So, he kept these feelings hidden, convinced they were nothing but the norm, enjoying whatever silly activities you engaged in.

You two had, after all, your own little rituals.

You loved reading – always had, and believed to continue doing so until you were dead and buried. And despite not having a lot of time to do so, Bruce did too. So, it wasn’t long before you two created your own little book club along with Alfred.

You would prepare a batch of cookies, Alfred would make some tea, and Bruce would wait by the fireplace in the living room, since there was really nothing he could contribute with but his insight on the books you were reading.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked, taking a sip from his tea, and placing the mug on the coffee table by his feet.

“I think it was terrible.” You replied.

Bruce nearly spat the drink in his mouth.

“Excuse me?!”

“I said what I said – it was a terrible book.”

“I think you’re the first person ever to call The Great Gatsby a ‘terrible book’.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Alfred, who was intent on hearing whatever you were going to say next. He too was quite curious, but he had an inkling he knew where you were going with this.

You just shrugged your shoulders and brought your legs to your chair, sitting on top of them. You felt at home in Wayne Manor. Bruce had told you to make yourself comfortable after the third time you visited, and you wasted no time in doing so.

“Jay Gatsby is one pretentious motherfucker,” you say.

“Language!” Alfred tutted.

“Sorry – I meant; Jay Gatsby is one pretentious douchebag.” You bowed your head towards Alfred and the butler nodded in acknowledgment.

“Wait – why?”

“Are you kidding me?” All you could do was scoff. “Gatsby is an obsessive narcissist, an egocentric pathological liar who cares about no one else other than himself, and much probably, a psychopath.”

Bruce was perplexed. Very much so.

“I – I – well. I see.”

“And the way he objectifies Daisy throughout the whole book – he doesn’t even love her! He loves the idea of her. He’s a jerk.”

Bruce couldn’t even interrupt you, because you were on a spree, gesticulating with your arms and talking fast.

“But let’s be honest here, it’s not like she loves him either.”

“She doesn’t?”

“Of course not! She’s a shallow, materialistic, spoiled brat and I can’t stand her!” You finished your little speech by taking a bite out of a cookie and crossing your arms.

“Huh. Right.” Bruce said, grabbing his copy of the book. “Well, I thought it was a great book. And I don’t think Gatsby is any of the things you said.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. I think he is a misunderstood soul.”

You scoffed. Again.

“He’s a misunderstood ass – “

“Language – “

“He is Alfred!”

“Yes, but you aren’t, and I would like to keep this household clean, for dear Master and Missus Wayne’s sake.” He replied casually, giving you that look you’d learn to interpret as “do not test me you silly little baker, for I am British and have the high ground”, and to which you just stuck your tongue out.

Bruce ignored the both of you and continued.

“And, well, I think he truly did love Daisy.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, no, and here’s why, he did everything for her.”

“Name one thing.”

“Well, he waited five whole years for her. I think that’s rather romantic. He went great lengths to impress Daisy and win her love. The parties, the money, his whole persona – it wasn’t him, but he did it all for Daisy.” Bruce explained calmly. Alfred looked at him with raised eyebrows and just sipped from his teacup quietly.

“Bruce, the whole thing was a circus.” You reached in front of you to grab another cookie and took a bite out of it, missing the way your friend’s gaze dropped to your lips and then returned to your eyes in just a millisecond. “He was just showing off.”

“Perhaps,” Bruce said, “But perhaps he was just trying to be someone worthy of her. I’m sure love can make people do crazy things.” He wasn’t one to talk. It’s not like he knew what “love” was. He’d crushed on Rachel as kids, but that’s all it was, a silly childhood crush.

Perhaps the love he had for his city could count. He did do crazy things for it. Dressing up as a bat was an example.

You nodded your head a few times, pondering his answer.

“Maybe, yeah. But I don’t think so. If he loved her, he should’ve just said it. There was no need for all the show.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows once again. A very you-ish reply. He was enjoying this immensely.

Bruce replayed her words in his head. He should’ve said it. Surely, it wasn’t that easy. Jay Gatsby wasn’t your average man. He was a mystery. He had secrets and things he needed to hide. It wasn’t as easy as just walking up to Daisy and telling her “I love you”. It wasn’t that simple. “You think so?” he asked.

“Well, yeah! Absolutely – I mean, why complicate things?” you replied. “He should’ve just dropped the luxuries, the parties, he should’ve just stopped with all of the eccentric millionaire thing, looked her in the eyes and say, ‘I love you’. Simple.”

"Absolutely! I mean, why complicate things? Just look someone in the eyes and say, ‘I love you.’ Simple.”

“Simple, huh?”

You nodded, taking another sip from your tea – you drank it sickeningly sweet, with lots of honey, while he preferred one or two spoons of sugar.

“Yeah. Simple. No need for the fancy parties, and mysterious acts. Just be genuine.”

“That’s an interesting perspective,” he mumbled. “But sometimes people have reasons for not saying what’s in their hearts. Sometimes they must hide their feelings.” It was true. You didn’t know he was Batman – you couldn’t. He needed to keep you safe. All you knew was that he worked a lot, plenty of times exhausting himself and arriving home super late. It was for the best.

Alfred hummed thoughtfully, which earned him a curious look from the both of you.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Please, do continue,” he said, gesturing for you to go on.

You gave him a weird look but simply turned to face Bruce once again.

“Reasons? Like what?”

Bruce couldn’t look you in the eye now. He shrugged and got suddenly very interested by the coffee table by his feet.

“Fear, maybe. Fear of what might happen if they open up. Fear of losing someone precious.”

You hummed, “Well, in my book, it’s always better to be honest and take the risk. Life’s too short for illusions. If Gatsby had just said it, maybe things would’ve been different. Who knows? But I still think he was one pompous son of a bitch.” You leaned back in your chair with a smug grin and finished the rest of your tea.

Alfred just excused himself and made his way towards the kitchen.

You certainly did bring some life into this once empty house.

You were lazing around in a Sunday afternoon, mindlessly scrolling your phone as a rerun of a show you liked played on TV. Even after a few years, it could still get some laughs out of you, and you’d look at the screen and smile.

All of a sudden, the couch dipped next to you.

Bruce had jumped over it, and landed next to you, sitting down comfortably, as if parkouring around Wayne Manor was something he did on the regular.

“Shit! Holy – Bruce!” You nearly jumped out of your seat, clutching your chest. Sometimes you wondered if Bruce wasn’t some sort of ninja. Being able to hide himself and be so silent wasn’t normal, and at times, to be frank, a little bit creepy.

He acted as if nothing was wrong and turned to you.

“Friday night, charity gala, you and me,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if he’d simply asked you what the weather was like outside.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, the Carringtons are throwing a big party this Friday. It’s supposed to be this big fundraiser. The profits will go for new police facilities. As if those corrupt idiots needed them…” He sighed. “And clearly, Bruce Wayne must attend. And, as expected, he has to bring someone.”

You whined and threw your head back in frustration. You’d been to a couple of galas with Bruce. Most of them were dreadfully boring, filled with fake people whose only purpose there was to flaunt their money and pretend to care about whatever topics seemed most controversial. You hated them. The fake smiles, the gross men leering on you, the women shamelessly throwing themselves at Bruce (not that you minded. After all, you two were just friends. It just made you uncomfortable that they were so forward about his advances. Clearly, he wasn’t alone. He had you. Could they not see it? But of course, you two were just friends. Which meant you weren’t jealous. You just felt sorry for them, and extremely uncomfortable whenever they looked at, spoke to, or touched him. Duh.)

“I can’t go.”

Bruce grimaced.

“Why?”

“I’m busy. Sorry Bruce, I have plans.” What a liar.

Your friend smirked and nudged his head towards the kitchen.

“Alfred checked your schedule – you’re free for the next two weeks.”

Your jaw dropped and you looked back at the kitchen, where Alfred innocently prepared a few sandwiches.

“Damn him! I swear that man must’ve been a British spy!” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, are you coming with me?” Bruce pressed on.

“I can’t – I have to return some videotapes.” You replied smugly.

Bruce gave you a dry laugh and threw a pillow in your direction, which you failed to dodge.

“Very funny. I’m serious – I can’t go by myself. Look, I know what this is going to sound like, but the Carringtons are only doing this to show off. They don’t care about the police; they want to show Gotham just how rich their grandfather’s money has made them. They’ve been around for years and never once donated – why now?”

“Just because you have to go, doesn’t mean that I have!” you too threw a pillow at him, but as always, his reflexes were on point, and he managed to catch it mid-air.

“Look, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”

“I have literally nothing to wear.”

Bruce gave you a blank stare – that excuse did not stick anymore, not after he’d bought you a different dress for each party he had taken you to (“Think of it as a thank you gift”, he said).

“Just take a model. Or an actress. Or some other celebrity. You know me Bruce, I don’t belong with those people. They’re not my crowd.” You grabbed another pillow and prepared to throw it at him.

“I can’t stand another night of pretending to spend my free time buying hotels and yachts.” Bruce said your name softly and you let your guard down, lowering your arm. “It’s not me, and you know it.” You looked into those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to have soften – those eyes of his always made you melt, and you often found yourself saying yes to his every whim.

You pondered your choices.

He could take a model or an actress. The headlines would love speculating who the hell was Bruce Wayne messing around with this time. He’d have to pretend to be someone he was not for a whole evening – though you didn’t know why; only that, for some reason, he had a reputation to upkeep – and the next morning you’d wake up and seethe as you watched the shots paparazzi got of your best friend and some random floozy slobbering on top of him.

Or, you could go with him. It’d be a pain in the ass to pretend to like all of those people and to interact with those phony idiots who thought money was worth anything and would try their best to snake their ways in Bruce’s close circle. But you’d spend a nice evening with your friend, wear a pretty dress, drink some expensive champagne and be able to laugh at everyone else with him. There were worse fates than that, you were sure.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll come with you.”

Bruce did a small “yes” gesture with his arm, and then grabbed a nearby pillow. “Now, where were we?”

“Oh – OH don’t you dare, Bruce Wayne!” You lifted your arm once again, but before you could throw the pillow in his direction, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. You fell on top of his body, hands on either side of his head as they bore the weight of your body. Your face was inches away from his, and all you could do was stare into those brown eyes that had you so weak.

You blinked repeatedly, before quickly getting up. Your cheeks were flaring up and you grabbed your phone, standing up from the couch.

Bruce, on his end, was speechless. He watched as you stood up, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I – I should go. I need to… yeah, I gotta – I gotta do something. I’ll see you later.” You mumbled, and within seconds, you were out the door.

When you were gone, Alfred left the kitchen and walked towards the couch where Bruce was sitting, still silently staring at the wall.

“Is everything alright, Master Wayne?” he asked, although he didn’t really need an answer. He knew exactly what was going on with him. After all, he’d raised this boy like his own son for years.

“Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, yes, I am. Everything’s fine. How about those sandwiches you were making?” He tried changing the topic, but it was too late.

As Alfred walked back to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think that he should probably schedule an optometrist appointment for his master. After all, one can’t help but be concerned when such a smart, capable man was so blind to matters of the heart. Almost as blind as a bat, one could say. He’d keep this joke for later. Bruce would hate it. Even better.

Funnily enough, Alfred wasn’t the only one who thought Bruce was blind to his feelings.

In fact, it seemed like everyone could see how smitten the Wayne billionaire was with you.

When you two went out, he would look at you with this sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You walked into the party, arm linked with his, and it was as if the whole world stopped to look at you two.

Everyone knew about your existence – it wasn’t the first time you accompanied Bruce to parties – Bruce Wayne and his close friend. Friend. Yeah, sure. If the glances he stole were any indication, the Wayne heir was nothing but completely enamoured with you. In fact, it was incredible how much he’d changed. His whole attitude changed when he was accompanied by you. No longer was he the reckless billionaire who drank too much and humiliated himself, but the elegant man who liked to engage in conversations (as long as the topics were interesting) and had a heart of gold.

Yes, everyone seemed to spot the change in demeanour whenever you two were together.

“Bruce!” A voice could be heard from the distance, and Rachel Dawes made her way towards the both of you. She smiled and spoke your name once she noticed you were the one accompanying her childhood friend, before hugging you. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you here!”

You hugged her back and gave her a genuine smile. You’d met Rachel before more than a few times – she was a lovely young woman with a great sense of justice, and you were sure she was going to do great things for Gotham’s wellbeing. You also enjoyed her company greatly, since she had once told you all of the embarrassing stories about Bruce’s childhood. “I had no idea you were going to be here!”

“Yeah, well,” she looked around and smiled, seemingly looking for someone. “I was just as surprised as you were.”

Then, a very familiar face emerged from the crowd, calling out “Rachel!” and walking to her side.

“There you were – you left so abruptly; I thought something was wrong.” The man said, before turning to look at you and Bruce. You took him in. Dirty blond hair and a familiar cleft chin. You furrowed your eyebrows, before it finally clicked in.

“You’re Harvey Dent – I’ve seen you on TV before,” you said, and he smiled in acknowledgement.

“That would be me, yes.” He put forward his hand, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

Harvey then turned to look at Bruce, extending his hand to him.

“And you must be Bruce Wayne. Rachel talks about you a lot.”

Bruce shook it and nodded.

“Hopefully she hasn’t disclosed everything about me, otherwise I’d be ruined.”

The two men chuckled, and you took that opportunity to look at Rachel. You looked from her to Harvey, opened your mouth and wiggled your eyebrows, earning a laugh from her. Rachel moved to your side as Bruce and Harvey spoke about Gotham and took your arm.

“Well, well, Miss Dawes. Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” you asked in a hushed tone, still wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “How’d you meet?”

“At work. Harvey is running for district attorney. One thing led to another, and…” she trailed off, and you nudged her torso with your arm.

“And now you’re shagging future attorney Harvey Dent. Look at you go!”

Rachel covered her mouth with her hands and supressed a scoff.

“You’re unbelievable, and I never want to hear those words coming from your mouth ever! It’s just a casual thing, we’ve only gone on a few dates. Besides, you’re the one attending a charity gala with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. I think every woman in this room has you on a death list.”

“Pftt,” you waved your hand dismissively, “You know we’re just friends. Nothing for those women to be jealous about.”

“Ah, I see. You’re just friends.” Rachel nodded, feigning seriousness in her voice.

“Yes, we are. Stop with that face!”

“What face?”

“That face you always do,” you motioned towards her face, nearly pouting. “We are! And that’s the end of the discussion! I don’t even know why we’re talking about my non-existent relationship with Bruce when you’re probably going to be First Lady someday – this is huge.”

Rachel swatted you with her purse and returned to Harvey’s side before giving you a cheeky smile – it felt nice to have a girl friend you could talk to in these scenarios. Usually, it was just you and Bruce, which, however pleasant, wasn’t the same thing as having a girl in there. You were happy to catch her off work – Rachel seemed like a different person at the office. While there, she maintained a strong and serious attitude, you were happy to see her when she had no work business to worry about and could simply be a girl with you.

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much of your time, Mr. Wayne,” Harvey said, shaking Bruce’s hand again. “It was a pleasure to meet Rachel’s oldest friend.” He then turned to you, “And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss.” “Likewise,” you replied.

Bruce nodded.

“Of course. I’ll be sure to send you a nice bottle of Chardonnay when you’re elected district attorney,” he said in his best careless billionaire voice, and nodded at Rachel before the two walked away. “Who would’ve thought,” he muttered to you, beckoning a butler who was carrying a tray of champagne glasses close to him.

“Well, I think they’re lovely together,” you smiled and grabbed a glass, smiling once the liquid hit your lips. Champagne was always welcome.

“Well, you think everyone looks lovely together. You’re a sap.” You laugh at Bruce’s comment and hold onto his arm. He brings you close, absentmindedly, and the two of you walk around the party, occasionally being stopped by the average donor.

After eating some entrees and mingling with the guests, soft music started to play and ring throughout the room. You looked up, pleasantly surprised, and tugged at Bruce’s arm.

“Come on,”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – he was growing tired of pretending to share the same interests as these vile people. He wanted a respite from keeping the charade up, so he gladly took your hand and led you to the middle of what had become the dancefloor. You two weren’t the only ones in there, a couple more pairs having decided to dance.

Bruce gently held your waist and pulled you close to him, his other hand coming to lift yours.

“Thank you,” he spoke, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes glued onto the two of you.

“I could see you were about to actually punch that man right in the face,” you chuckled, looking at the person in question. He was a middle-aged man who could probably stand to lose a few pounds for the sake of his health, who was trying to talk Bruce into introducing him a couple of models. You just had to come to the rescue, because Bruce actually looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Thankfully, he was a good actor and simply promised the man he would surely hook him up with the woman of his dreams.

“I think it goes without saying I’m not introducing jack shit to him. I’m pretty sure he’s assaulted his female employers. I should have someone investigate it.”

“My, my. Bruce Wayne, ever the White Knight.” You smiled, and you could swear that for some minutes, the entire world faded away as the soft melodies of Camille Saint-Saëns filled the air.

He snorted at that but did not say anything.

The two of you kept dancing. You found looking into his eyes extremely hard, so you avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead at behind his shoulder continuously.

“I still haven’t told you how beautiful you look tonight,” Bruce finally broke the silence between you two, and you returned his gaze. He’d bought you a floor-length black John Galliano gown with delicate lace trim and a bias cut, and you had actually screamed into your pillow once you saw it – it was far too pretty.

“Thank you,” you reply, brushing some invisible dust from his shoulders. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Bruce lowered his voice and looked you in the eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“I mean it. You do look stunning.”

The two of you stopped dancing for a few moments, and you were unable to look away from his almost magnetic gaze. Time seemed to stand still, and you gripped his shoulder tighter, to make sure you were real, and he was real, and this whole ordeal was real.

He was just about to speak again, when you were interrupted by a loud, shrill voice.

“Mr. Wayne! Oh, what a pleasure to have you here!”

You quickly pulled away from him as Catherine Carrington, a woman in her mid-40s with long, blonde hair approached the both of you and placed two loud kisses on either side of his cheeks. You looked away, trying to figure out how to properly breathe again, and fanned yourself with your hands.

Harrold Carrington, Catherine’s husband walked to her side and shook Bruce’s hand, far too interested in talking to you. You stifled a laugh – whoever was in charge of his wig had tone a terrible job, because it was clear as day his hairline was receding, and the hair he had on was fake.

“Ah, you must be the mysterious friend everyone has been talking about. We’ve seen you around a few times, haven’t we Miss? But I don’t think we’ve properly met – I’m Harrold Carrington. And may I say, you look splendid this evening.”

None of the Carringtons seemed interested in their spouses. Catherine was fawning over Bruce, and Harrold’s eyes lingered far too long on your exposed collarbone and cleavage. So much so, that you turned from him uncomfortably. Bruce was quick to notice your discomfort, and pulled you next to him once again, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.

“I’d appreciate it if you could keep your eyes on the lady’s face, as opposed to her chest, Mr. Carrington,” he said with a smile that you could only identify as fake, and that smug voice he used when he was feeling particularly cocky.

All of the colour drained from Harrold’s face, and he stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence – which he failed miserably. “I – I, well – I wasn’t – I would never! I – I was just –“

Bruce faced Catherine once again and gave her another fake smile.

“Lovely party Mrs. Carrington. Very nice of you to raise money for the Gotham Police Department. Very charitable, indeed. And the champagne is just splendid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard someone was eating caviar, and it’s not a real party without it, now is it?”

Effortlessly, he brought you away from the couple.

Once you were out of sight, he looked at you with a worried expression.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah – he was just creepy. Shit, I hate galas.”

“Tell me about it,” Bruce sighed, before shaking his head. “How long have we been here for?”

“About two hours.”

“How about we ditch at three? I think it’d be a crime to abandon this party now. Especially when you look this dazzling.”

He was giving you that look once again, the one you couldn’t quite decipher, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Bruce, on the other hand, was freaking out. You looked lovely, even more so than usual. He’d been dancing with you, and all was perfect, and then that hag Catherine had to go and ruin everything.

Was it too much to ask for a quiet dance with his friend?

Friend.

The word tasted wrong in his mouth.

No, you weren’t his friend. At least not anymore.

He thought about your dance moments earlier. How you’d held onto him, far too shy to look him in the eye, lips slightly parted and eyes sparkly. He thought of how easily you leaned into his touch and how he liked having you by his side.

He thought of how much he enjoyed spending time with you, how much he laughed in your presence, how free he felt when he was with you. He could be himself, something that he felt he couldn’t be anywhere else. You were his safe haven. You were everything.

It was that night Bruce Wayne realised he was in love with you.

One time the both of you went out to do some Christmas shopping.

(“In November?” Bruce had asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Christmas sales have already started! And I bet everyone’s going to start super soon, so we need to get to it!” Was your reply. Bruce could only sigh and agree, like he always did when it came to you.)

Besides, it was the first Christmas you’d be able to spend together after 2 years of friendship. The last two had Bruce way too busy with his company (at least that’s what he told you. In reality, he had been tracking down a few criminals who’d been wreaking havoc days before.

The main point was: after two years of being friends, you would finally get to spend Christmas together. It’s not that you’d suffered those Christmases without him; you had friends and family. But you wanted to spend the holidays with who you now considered to be your closest friend.

Bruce, however, wanted to spend Christmas with the woman he was in love with. He hadn’t found the courage to tell you – not yet. He was afraid of ruining things, of hurting you. So he kept silent, relishing in the friendship the both of you had.

Approaching the mall, you had a small list in your hand, filled with names of everyone you wanted to buy a gift for. He had around five people in mind, so he did not need all those preparations.

Once you were in the crowded mall, Bruce would hold you close to him, shielding you from everyone who might bump into you. His hand would respectfully be in the small of your back, and if he needed you to get out of someone’s way (people who refused to look up from their phones were the worst), he would slide it to your waist and gently pull you towards him.

You’d stopped at a beauty store, wanting to buy a new skin care package for your closest friend at work – heavens knew how badly you needed her to keep you sane – so you’d asked Bruce for his opinion on a myriad of perfumes.

“See, I like this one, but I think the smell is a bit too strong,” you mumbled, squeezing some of the hand lotion’s sample on your hand and applying it there. “Here,” you reached your hand to him, and nearly all the air was sucked out of your lungs when Bruce carefully reached for it, holding your pulse in his and bringing it to his face. His lips nearly brushed against your skin as he took the smell of the lotion in, and at least a dozen of women who were shopping nearby swooned.

Bruce let go of your hand just as gently and you blinked a few times, trying to wake up from your little trance.

“It is a bit strong, yeah. You mentioned she’s got a sensitive nose, so maybe something less floral?”

You were quick to nod and walk away, afraid he’d notice the way your cheeks heat up and your pupils dilated.

Once you turned away from him, focusing on the other hand lotions, he sighed, still feeling a buzzing sensation in his hand. It was as if he could still feel your skin against his, and he had to shake his head to return to the task at hand. Control yourself.

At a clothing store, you held up different sweatshirts next to him, asking for his opinion on a gift to your father. He gave you his earnest opinion, and insisted on carrying all your bags once you were done.

“Bruce – come on, I can carry them. I’m not a baby,” you’d told him, sighing in exasperation.

“Just allow me. You’re still picking up things left and right, it’s better if I carry these for you.”

You two checked out a jewellery shop – you’d been saving up to buy your mom a pair of earrings, and while you busied yourself looking through rows and rows of pairs, looking for the one you had your eyes on, Bruce quickly excused himself, and turned to a shop helper.

Approaching the counter, he placed the delicate pair of pearl earrings next to the cashier, glancing around just to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him.

“Would you like these to be gift wrapped?” The cashier asked.

“Yes please.”

Bruce continued glancing around. You too were speaking to a shop helper, pointing to the delicate pair of gold earrings you wanted to get.

“A gift for a special someone?” The cashier asked once again with a polite smile. Bruce wasn’t dumb. If he were anyone else, this would be a regular, standard question asked by shop clerks to keep a friendly conversation going. But he’s not just anyone else. He’d noticed the way the woman had glanced him up and down with a wishful expression and could bet all his money that if he were to reveal more than necessary, then she would turn to any gossip magazine as soon as he was out the door and spill whatever nonsense she thought it was going on.

He gave her a curt nod, paid for the earrings (now neatly placed inside of a box and wrapped with a pretty red ribbon), and returned to your side, hiding the box inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Did you find them?” he asked once he got to your side, and if it were anyone else, you would’ve jumped, but by now you were used to Bruce. You seemed to lean into his side and smiled, looking at the pair of hoops the shop helper brought to the counter.

“Yeah – she’s gonna love them! I was super scared they’d be sold out Bruce, I’ve been working my ass off to get these. I’m so proud of myself,” your smile was contagious, and Bruce found himself bringing you closer to him by the waist and giving you one of his super rare smiles. Once again, every woman within a five-mile radio sighed, basically eating him up with their eyes. It was no secret Bruce Wayne was a handsome man – not to mention Gotham’s most eligible bachelor – but to see him act so affectionate in public was a completely different thing, and it was clear more than woman had gotten jealous just looking at you.

(Their boyfriends were not happy with the way said women ogled Bruce up and down.)

“I’m proud of you too.” Bruce replied. It was true. You were a hardworking woman, and he beamed with pride at your accomplishments.

Of course he didn’t tell you he bribed the store to keep the earrings stored until you came along to buy them – he wasn’t about to let someone snatch the thing you’d been working so hard to get – but it didn’t matter. You’d earned it.

You grinned at him and reluctantly broke free from his hold.

“I’m gonna go pay for these, meet me outside?”

He nodded and walked outside of the store, hand coming to pat the box inside of his pocket. They’d look incredible with his mother’s pearl necklace, that’s for sure.

He carried your things to the limo, and upon arriving to the Manor, he distracted you with promises of hot chocolate and marshmallows, before handing Alfred the little white box and telling him to keep it a secret. The rest of the evening was spent with the two of you discussing presents, drinking your hot chocolate, and watching some Christmas movies as the wood in the fireplaced cracked piece by piece, enveloping you both in a cozy warmth.

Later that month, the two of you were sitting at an expensive café, having a few treats, and talking about your Christmas shopping. Although the place was very fancy and its prices had shocked you, so had the quality of their food.

“This is garbage,” you said, eyeing the cupcake on your plate. “Holy shit, who baked these? It feels like I’m chewing on a brick!”

“Yours are much better, yes,” Bruce agreed, taking his own cupcake, and looking at it carefully. “And that’s this awful taste?”

“I think she added lemon juice, but it doesn’t work in this recipe, not at all. You’ll see, it’ll basically nullify the sweetness of it, and the whole thing is just gonna taste like one sour cupcake. Gosh, people pay their rent’s worth of money for these?”

Bruce could listen to you talk for hours on end. The way your eyes lit up when you found a topic you were interested in, and how genuinely passionate you were about your hobbies. Your genuineness was something he praised and found himself looking for more and more. In fact, one of the reasons he’d taken you to this specific café was because he knew the cupcakes sucked – he’d eaten there before. He just wanted to hear you talk about them.

An old woman approached your table, wearing a Santa Claus had on top of her head, and a few Christmas related pins on her waitress apron.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, no thank you, we’re fine.” You replied, returning it «.

“I see. Well, I’d just like to say, it’s a real gift to see such precious young love.” The woman gestured at the both of you, and your cheeks flared up. “This city can be so dark and gloomy sometimes; it warms my heart to know that love still prevails on top of all. You two are such a lovely couple.”

“We’re –“ you coughed, trying to clear your throat. “We’re not – we’re not a couple.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, we’re just – we’re just friends!” you were quick to correct her and refused to meet Bruce in the eye.

Oh, right. Bruce. He was staring at the old woman, completely lost in thought. This woman thought you two were a couple. Did you look like it? And why had you shut her down so quickly? Did you hate the idea that much? Would it be so terrible if the two of you were to date?

“Oh, I am so sorry then, my apologies!” the waitress was quick to apologise. “It’s just – you two look rather lovely together. I’m sorry for the intrusion.” She walked away and you covered your cheeks with your hands, trying to mask the sudden blush that had overcome you.

Bruce, on his end, was still staring at where the woman had been. Did you two look like a couple that much? He wouldn’t mind it. No, not really, he wouldn’t mind being a couple with you. He could finally drop that stupid playboy persona, be one step closer to his real self. He could protect you and always keep you safe and closer to him. He wondered what it would be like to wake up to you every morning and be greeted with that dazzling smile of yours. Would you ask him for five more minutes in bed? Act all grumpy until you had your morning coffee? Would you drag him out of his bedroom to start the day and be productive?

“Shall we go?” you interrupted his thoughts, placing your now empty mug on top of your plate. “It’s gonna get dark soon, and I wanted to see the Christmas lights.” Your voice was lower, still tinted with some nervousness. Bruce snapped out of it and nodded, walking towards the counter to pay the bill.

While he was gone, you made your way to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, to wake yourself up and hopefully cool down.

Once you were ready, you walked out of the café, strolling the streets of Gotham.

Sometimes it surprised you how pretty your city could be. Sure, there was chaos and corruption, and most of the times it was a fucking shithole, but it was still home, and the tall buildings and bright lights could still take your breath away.

You and Bruce walked side by side. You were still far too nervous to look at him, so you kept your distance. Bruce, respectful as ever, remained by your side, refusing to touch you until you gave him permission. As you were looking at the prettily decorated shop windows and houses, he could see the way your body shivered and trembled.

That’s what you got for refusing to bring a jacket because, “your outfit looked far too pretty to be hidden behind a coat”.

“Cold?” he asked.

“N-no. Not at all. I’m fine. I told you; these tights are really warm.” Your voice was trembling, and your teeth were close to chattering. A part of Bruce wanted to see you fight for your case just a bit longer, while the other just longed to envelop you in his arms and keep the cold away.

“Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure the tips of your fingers are turning blue.” He said with a smug expression.

“No, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding eagerly. “I told you; I wouldn’t be cold. I’m not.”

Bruce just nodded and kept walking by your side.

After a few minutes, it was far too obvious you were freezing. Your body was trembling, your teeth were chattering, and he was sure he could see your lips becoming a dark shade of purple.

Wordlessly, Bruce began to remove his jacket.

“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to him in confusion.

“Preventing you from catching pneumonia,” he replied, handing it to you.

“N-no, T-that’s not n-necessary, Bruce. I’m fine. I’m n-not cold. I’m f-fine! See? Just p-peachy.”

Bruce had faced criminals and villains and corrupt cops, and they’d all lied to him at one point or another. None was as bad as you.

He gave you one of his “I told you so” looks, and you nearly pouted, spreading your arms as he helped you put the jacket on. Almost instantly, you felt warmth spread through your body and sighed in relief. Bruce also removed his scarf, and carefully wrapped around your neck, hands lingering on your face for longer than necessary when he brushed a few strands away from it.

“Better?” he murmured.

You looked at him through your lashes. He was close. Very close. So close, that you could hear your heartbeat hammering on your chest. You gave him a soft “mhm” and he returned to your side, keeping a respectful distance from you.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked him. It made you feel terrible – it was freezing in Gotham, and you’d taken his only sources of comfort.

“I’m fine – believe me. I’d much rather have you not freezing on me.” He replied.

“Are you sure? It’s very cold.”

“I promise.”

You nodded and continued your silent stroll.

Suddenly, while crossing the street, some careless motorbike showed up out of nowhere. You shrieked in surprise, and froze in your place, closing your eyes in fear. A pair of strong arms pulled you away, and you collided with a strong figure. Bruce was holding you close, cursing the driver under his breath. Once you looked up to you look at him, he turned to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking all over your face to make sure you were unharmed.

“Yeah – just – that dickhead –“

“I know. It’s like you can’t trust anyone with a license these days.” He muttered. It hurt to part from you. It was like you were made to stand next to him, body slotting perfectly with his. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, giving you space, but was surprised when you held onto his arm, like you usually do.

You looked at him, silently asking for permission, which he granted. You scooted closer to him, and he smiled.

The two of you continued walking through the streets of Gotham, making comments on the architecture, the lighting, the people. There were small stalls selling all sorts of trinkets and goods, a sort of small Christmas market, and you smiled as you saw kids running around with balloons or cups of hot chocolate. It was dark and gloomy, but once again, Gotham could be so very beautiful.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady?” An old vendor asked, extending a pretty rose in your direction.

“Oh, no thank you – “ you mumbled, shaking your head, but Bruce was quicker.

“Thank you.” He nodded, taking the flower in his hands. He handed the man a bill (and surely a big one at that, because the man’s eyes widened, and he stared at it for quite a while before thanking Bruce profusely.)

Bruce turned to you and handed you the flower.

You weren’t sure if it was from his jacket, or if your whole body had simply decided to set itself on fire. You took the flower and brought it up to your nose, the intoxicating smell of it filling your senses.

“Thank you,” you said, still looking at it. No one had ever bought you flowers.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady,” he repeated the old man’s words, and continued walking with you by his side, but not without hearing the old man say something about how “beautiful it was to see love bringing people together”. You didn’t seem to have heard it, but Bruce did, and he smiled.

It was Christmas Eve, and you were in Wayne Manor, having dinner with Bruce and Alfred (whom he begged to take a seat at the table with the two of you). There was wine and plenty of food, and the three of you had a great time, sharing funny stories and anecdotes and just enjoying each other’s companies.

You had promised your family to visit them the day after and were dead set on spending the Eve with Bruce.

After dinner, you sat near the fireplace, talking about books, movies, and whatever silly topic that came to mind. You, with your legs comfortably spread on the couch, Alfred on the big chair, and Bruce on the floor, by your feet. To him, that was the closest he had to spending Christmas with his family, and wondered if his parents would’ve enjoyed your company. Of course they’d have, he thought, you’re perfect.

After the three of you had played a few games (Alfred had won at charades, his Batman impression making you laugh for five minutes straight), you stood up announcing that, since it was almost midnight, you wanted everyone to open their gifts. It was more about you giving yours away than opening them, really – you were quite proud of the gifts you’d bought and wanted Bruce’s and Alfred’s reactions as soon as possible.

“Alright, alright, alright, me first! Here – Alfred, these are for you!” You handed him about five different packages, and he looked at you with a fond expression in his eyes.

“You didn’t have to, Miss.”

“Well, but I did. I need to spoil my swing partner, don’t I?”

He smiled at your antics and slowly opened the packages, one by one. Inside, there were a few woollen sweaters with matching-coloured ties.

“They’re really warm, you know. And it’s real wool – the quality of these is amazing! And you can even wear them without the ties, for a more casual look. What do you think? Do you like them?” you asked eagerly, hoping to get the response you wanted.

“I do, Miss. Thank you. These are lovely.”

You beamed and hugged him tightly. “Promise? There’s a receipt somewhere if you don’t like them – but I just thought they looked so cool and they were so pretty and the fabric is so soft, and – “

“Yes, Miss. I promise. Thank you. These are splendid.”

“Well, since we’re spoiling Alfred, I don’t really want to get left out.” Bruce joked, before reaching for an envelope sitting on top of the Christmas tree (decorated by the both of you on the first of December, thank you very much.) He handed his butler the envelope and sat back, awaiting his reply.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get rid of me.” Alfred said, looking at the contents of the envelope intently.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a few weeks.” Bruce replied smugly. “If anyone deserves a vacation in this house, it’s you.”

When Alfred didn’t reply, Bruce raised an eyebrow, worry starting to pool in his stomach.

“Alfred? Is everything okay?”

Alfred sighed and shook the envelope in his head.

“A ticket to the Maldives, Master Wayne? You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

Bruce grinned, nodding. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do indeed, but, if I may express a tiny complaint…”

“Of course, Alfred. You can always speak your mind.”

“You’re a bit of a cheapskate, Master Wayne.”

You burst out laughing, nodding along with Alfred.

“A cheapskate. I see. And why is that?”

“After all I’ve done for you, three weeks of vacation seems a bit stingy, don’t you think?” Although he was saying this, he had a smile playing in his lips. Clearly none of it was serious.

“It’s not like I can function without you Alfred. Can’t have you enjoying too much time off, now, can we? You might remember just how fantastic life is outside this place and never return. You’ll be here forever. You’ve changed my diapers when I was born, and you’ll change them when I’m old and gray.”

“I knew I should’ve never accepted Thomas Wayne’s job offer back then.” He muttered. But he then turned to Bruce and gave him an earnest smile. “Thank you, sir. This is very thoughtful of you.”

After that, it was his turn to give you your presents. He gave Bruce a (very expensive) bottle of wine, that he expressed “wanted it to be opened on a very special occasion” with a wink – which made Bruce clear his throat and change the subject. You received a burgundy scarf he’d brought from his latest trip to England, from a shop you’ve expressed your admiration for a few times.

“Holy – oh my god! This is incredible, I mean, look at it!” You hugged him tightly and wrapped the scarf around your neck, not caring that it was far too warm inside the Manor for you to require a scarf.

“Well, now, it seems to be getting rather late for me,” he announced, standing up.

“Oh? You don’t wanna stay here until midnight?”

Alfred shook his head.

“I’m afraid not, Miss. I’m quite tired. I’ll be retiring for the night.”

“Alright, Alfred. Goodnight.” Bruce said with a curt nod.

“Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Miss.”

You’d turned away to investigate your scarf once again, you missed the look Alfred gave his master, which made him sigh and look at you fondly.

“Alright – now it’s my turn! I need to go get your gift, just wait in here!” You were quick to stand up and disappear into the hallway. You’d been gone for a few minutes, so Bruce went after you, wondering if everything was alright. He bumped into you near the grand staircase at the entrance, and you jumped.

“Christ – you need to stop scaring me like that!” you reprimanded him.

Bruce chuckled, and you shook your head.

“Anyway,” you mumbled, presenting him with a small black box. “This is for you. I know it’s not nearly as fancy as the ones you already have but – well, it’s Christmas and it’s the thought that counts, is it not?” There was a certain nervousness in your voice, Bruce could feel it.

He gently took the box from you, and opened it, revealing a fancy looking black Hugo Boss watch. His fingers trailed the screen and the expensive leather strap.

“I know you have a ton of those, but I thought, hey, this one’s special, this one’s from me!” Before you could keep on with your nervous ramblings, Bruce brought you close, hugging you tightly. You smiled against his chest and wrapped your hands around his torso. This was nice. This was comfortable and familiar and nice.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair, and you almost melted at the cadence of his voice.

“You’re welcome.” You replied.

When you two pulled away, something caught his eye. Looking up, he realised the both of you were standing right underneath a few branches of mistletoe. You followed his eyes and blushed furiously, your whole body heating up.

Bruce said your name and you turned to look at him, feeling as light as a feather.

“Look, I – there’s something I would like to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Bruce thought of all you’d been through together. Laughter, tears, giggles, and scowls. You’d had great times, reading books, walking around, spending time together, and bad times, when he blew you off, choosing Gotham city at night over you. He thought of all he told you, all he trusted you with.

“I just wanted to say that I really enjoy spending time with you,” he began.

“I enjoy spending time with you too.” You inched closer to him, hands still on his chest.

“You’re amazing, and I’m so glad to have you in my life. You see through my charade. I can be myself when I’m around you.”

He thought back on the charity gala, on you wearing that lovely black dress, dancing with him. He thought of holding your hand and pulling you close to him to keep you safe. He thought of your sparkly eyes and delicate lips, and how much he could stare into the former and how badly he wanted to kiss the later.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about how badly he wanted to always be with you. How much he’d love to wake up next to you, feel your skin against his, be able to shout from the rooftops that you’re his and his alone. He thought about dropping to one knee and seeing you walking down an aisle wearing the prettiest of white dresses. He saw a lifetime with you, side by side.

“What I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about Batman.

How he’d have to cancel date after date after date, prioritising the black suit over your relationship. He thought of you getting worried sick when he got home late, frowning as you looked at his scars and bruises. He could see it vividly, how you’d cry and beg him not to leave you, to choose you over the city for once in his life, and how he’d leave you to cry all of your tears as he put the cowl on.

“Is…”

“Is…?” You pressed further, eyes dropping to his lips.

He saw argument after argument, saw you screaming at him, accusing him of not loving you. He saw nights spent in the couch, because you were far too angry to let him in your bed. He saw your sad eyes welling up with tears in the middle of romantic dates after he’d told you he had to go because the bat signal was shining in the night sky. He thought about someone finding his identity and going after you first and foremost. He saw you tied up in some random chair, mouth gagged and tears running down your streak as some criminal tortured you to get to him.

He saw your lifeless body inside a coffin, skin devoid of colour, eyes closed, to never open again, and how he’d spend the rest of his life hating both himself and his mask.

He thought about Bruce Wayne, and Batman.

And he realised you couldn’t possibly love both.

“Is… You’re a great friend. Thank you.” He squeezed your arms in a comforting manner and walked away, leaving you wide eyed and speechless under the mistletoe.

Later, he’d gift you the first edition of your favourite classic novel and wish you goodnight with a polite nod of his head, going up to his bedroom.

Before he went to sleep, he locked the pearl earrings and his mother’s necklace inside his drawer.

Things were awkward between you two. Your friendship with Bruce was still there, but he was sort of distant. Your weekly book club meetings still happened, and he still dropped by your café to drink coffee and try new cupcake recipes, but everything seemed to have changed after Christmas Eve.

So, you tried to move on with your life.

A few weeks after Christmas, your bakery started to work with a new supplier, and you quickly befriended the delivery guy, Tom. While you started to look forward to his visits more and more, it still did not feel the same as when you were with Bruce, and you felt guilty for hanging out with him.

One day, Bruce came in for his regular cup of coffee and a cupcake and found you smiling and giggling at a guy at the counter. His first reaction was to punch the guy to next Sunday, but thankfully he calmed down and approached you with a polite smile on his face.

“Hey there,” he greeted you, not sparing Tom a single glance.

“Oh! Hey Bruce – this is Tom. He’s the delivery guy from the new supplier.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he realised the Bruce Wayne was standing in front of him and tried his best to shake his hand nonchalantly.

“I’ll be right with you,” you told him, and continued your conversation with Tom.

Fucking Tom. Who even was this guy?

And why were you smiling so much? What the fuck did he have that Bruce didn’t?

Most likely, it was what Bruce didn’t have that make a difference – a mask, a secret identity, a promise made to Gotham.

After you were done chatting with the delivery guy, you placed a cupcake and a cup of coffee in front of Bruce, but instead of sitting down with him, you returned to the counter and resumed your conversation.

Bruce cursed himself mentally.

On Christmas day, after you’d left, Alfred had asked what happened.

Bruce told him everything. How he couldn’t be with you because of Batman, how he couldn’t risk your safety and life, how he pushed you away.

Alfred lectured him, telling his master that his mask was going to be the end of him, but Bruce refused to listen and went to the batcave to busy himself and get his mind off you.

As he looked at you now, radiant and smiling at someone else, he realised that he might’ve made a big, big mistake.

It wasn’t long until you two started dating. It was casual, nothing too serious, but Bruce still seethed on the inside. He found himself staring at you for longer, hands lingering on yours whenever he touched you, and his heart ached more and more whenever he saw you with Tom.

You seemed so happy with him.

Seemed.

Because the truth was, you weren’t doing as well as Bruce thought you were. Tom was a nice man, yeah, but there was something off about the whole thing. He was good looking, yes, and very kind. He listened to you and made you, his priority. He was a dream. But there was just one problem, he wasn’t Bruce.

When you two went out, you often found yourself wishing it was Bruce’s arms wrapped around you. When you two went shopping and you decided to go try on a few hand lotions, Tom simply bent over to sniff your hand, and you were brought back to that time last November when Bruce held you with such gentleness, you nearly melted.

Tom always reminded you to bring a jacket, and you did so diligently, unconsciously put off by the idea of wearing his. He’d once given it to you, and it just wasn’t the same. He didn’t wrap it around you securely, he didn’t brush the hair away from your face, he didn’t look at you the way Bruce did. He was an amazing guy, and you liked him.

But that was it.

Still, you kept your relationship going, hoping your feelings would change.

After all, it’s not like you had ever felt anything for Bruce, right?

He was just a good friend.

You enjoyed spending time with him, sure, but that was it.

So, you looked forward to every time the two of you hung out. And your heartbeat quickened every time he was near. You couldn’t get your eyes off him. You easily got angry or upset whenever other women looked at him, and even more so when he entertained their advances. You longed to have him hold you in your arms.

But that was all normal, right? It just meant you were great friends.

You mind goes back to Christmas Eve, and the way he hugged you. Standing under that mistletoe, there was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. You remember looking at him and wishing so bad that he would lean down and press his lips against yours. Just friends don’t kiss.

And that’s what you were to him – just a friend. He’d say that himself.

So why were you so heartbroken?

Looking at an empty coffee mug, it suddenly hit you like a train.

You were in love with Bruce Wayne.

And he didn’t love you back.

So there was no need to feel guilty over going out with Tom, right? Even if you didn’t particularly want to kiss him and didn’t want his hands around you when you two went out. Even if you were reluctant to introduce you as “your boyfriend” and had more than once ditched him to stay home and rethink your life decisions.

Even if when the two of you went out on dates, you barely paid any attention to him, focusing on the times you’d sat down with Bruce over a drink and just laughed your asses off and spoke until the crack of dawn.

Even if you didn’t really love Tom.

Yeah. No need at all.

On a lovely April afternoon, you were helping Bruce do some spring cleaning. You were both wearing some casual, old clothes, and helping Alfred to make sure the Manor ended up spotless.

You were currently in charge of the spacious living room, carefully placing picture frames on top of the coffee table so you could clean the fireplace. You looked at the framed memories. Pictures of Bruce as a child, or with his parents. There was one with a young Bruce standing on his father’s shoulders, and another one of him hugging Alfred.

You smiled to yourself. What a cute kid, he was. He seemed so happy.

There were pictures of him with Rachel, knees scraped and clothes dirty from the mud, and some with you. Your gaze lingered on those.

There was one framed selfie with the two of you, faces full of flour and whipped cream. You’d been teaching him how to bake, but the whole ordeal ended up in a small food fight – which he’d won. You chuckled at the memories of trying to teach Mr. “I’m far too rich to cook because I have people to do it for me” how to measure cups of flour, and break eggs. You’d held onto his arms and guided him to make sure he got the measurements just right.

Something inside of you flared up the memory.

The other picture in your hand had been taken at the Carrington gala.

You were wearing your pretty (and extremely expensive) black dress and were smiling at the camera. You were leaning into Bruce’s touch, who was holding you close by the waist. Instead of looking at the camera, he was instead looking at you.

Somehow, tears had clouded your vision.

How you had loved dancing with him. Being held by him as if you were the only person in the world he cared about. Your fingers traced his figure in the picture, and a tear fell down your cheek, falling on top of the glass.

“Hey, are you done with the fireplace?” You jumped at the voice behind you, and dropped the frame, which fell on the floor and broke into a million little pieces.

“Shit!” you mumbled, quick to crouch and try to pick up each glass shard. Bruce was quicker though, and made his way towards you, pulling you away from the soiled floor.

“No, get away from this, you might get hurt. I’ll call Alfred and – “ he looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Tears were streaming down your face, and you couldn’t look away from the mess you had made. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry – I broke it.”

“No, no. It’s okay, we’ll just get a new frame.” Bruce assured you, hands resting on your shoulders.

“No – fuck – it’s not okay! None of this is okay!” You cried, and he pulled you against his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

“It’s just a frame. We’ll get a new one. And we’ll clean the floor.”

You cried in his arms for a while, until your sobs subsided into quiet sniffs. Bruce didn’t really know what to do, so he stood there, holding you tight. He’d never let you go.

After a while, you broke the silence.

“I – “ sniff, “ – I broke up with Tom,” you mumbled.

Bruce’s expression was one of surprise. Really? Why would you though? You two seemed happy.

“I… I don’t really think I liked him…” you continued; voice muffled by his chest. “I think I was dating him simply because I wanted to forget you…”

What?

He looked at you, but you refused to face him, face pressing harder against his chest.

“I’m such an idiot, Bruce… Everything was fine, and then I went and fell for you… And now our friendship is going to be ruined, and I broke your picture frame…”

Bruce held you tighter. You fell for him?

“I’m sorry, Bruce… I’m so sorry – I promise I’ll fix this. I – I’ll stop loving you and we can go back to being friends, and – “

Bruce used his thumb to lift your face up and looked straight into your eyes. There was nowhere to run. You were trapped, and so was he.

“You love me?” he asked, voice as soft as you’d ever heard it.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud, so you opted for nodding.

“But – Tom –“

“Tom was a distraction,” you sniffled, “And I feel terrible about it. But I didn’t really like him. I just wanted to forget about you.”

“You love me,” Bruce repeated, using the same thumb to rub circles on the skin of your cheek. His gaze fell on your lips.

He had two choices. He could let you go once again. He could walk away from you, tell you he didn’t love you back. He could watch as you eventually moved on with your life (this time for real) and protect you from having to choose between Bruce Wayne and Batman.

He could give up the love of his life forever.

Or he could kiss you. He could tell you how he felt. He could trust you with that darker side of him, and you two could figure it out along the way. He could take it easy. He could bare his heart and finally tell you how you felt.

Two sides of him fought against each other, but ultimately, one was stronger.

He bent down and took your lips in his, sliding his hands up to your face to cradle it.

You were surprised to say the least, but pleasantly so. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back with vigour, tears of happiness falling down your cheeks. How you’d wanted this. And now, it was finally happening.

When you two parted for air, Bruce refused to let you go, standing mere inches away from you. His nose nuzzled yours, and he whispered a quiet, “I love you.”

You don’t know wat surprised you more. That he’d say it, or that you said it back.

“I love you too,” you smiled, pressing yourself against him and kissing him once again.

Bruce wrapped his arms around you, attempting to convey all his feelings for you in a simple kiss. All the longing, the love, the desire, the friendship. Everything he couldn’t find the words to say, he poured into that kiss. And you smiled, accepting all his confessions, all his words.

“Well, it was about time, don’t you two think?” Alfred said from across the room.

You jumped and just stared at him, embarrassment overtaking you.

“Yes, I’m talking about you two. Do you know how bothersome it was to see you moping around and sulking because you hadn’t kissed her on Christmas Eve, sir?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I – You wanted to kiss me on Christmas Eve?” you turned to Bruce and gave him a soft smile.

“I did. I really did. I’m so sorry I didn’t.” he replied, before looking at Alfred. “Could you please leave us alone now? I don’t really recall paying you to mind my business.”

“You don’t pay me enough not to, sir.” The butler replied with a cheeky grin and that “I have the high ground, for I am British and old and wise” smug look of his. “I am glad to see the both of you are finally getting along. If you need me, I’ll be cleaning the Manor, since no one in this house does it.”

You laughed and faced Bruce once again, cupping his cheek.

“I thought you didn’t even like me. I mean, on Christmas…”

“I’m sorry about Christmas. I really did want to kiss you, it’s just… There are things about me – things you don’t know. And I’m afraid of telling you because I don’t want you to get hurt.” He replied, hand coming up to touch yours.

“You can tell me anything Bruce, you know it. Right?”

He nodded, and hugged you close one more time.

“I do. And I love you. I really mean it.”

Bruce could hear the smile in your voice when you replied.

“I love you too.”

For once in his life, Bruce Wayne did not feel completely alone. On the next room, he had his trusted butler, who had raised him as his own and acted like a parental figure all these years. And in his arms, he had you. The love of his life, the woman he loved the most in the world.

Holding you close to him, he knew he could trust you, no matter what. He knew you’d accept him, because if anyone would, it was you. And he would cherish that forever.

Later that night, a small white box was taken out of a locked drawer and placed inside of his pocket.

Bruce led you to the same spot you’d been on Christmas Eve, handed you the small box, and after carefully placing the necklace around your neck, finally kissed you.

There was no way he was ever letting go of you.

A/N: And that's it! I hope I was able to do both this trilogy and this request justice, I was really worried about it. I wrote most of it in one sitting, you have no idea, I just kept on writing and writing and writing and when I realised it, it'd gotten kinda long and out of hand.

I also hope this Tom character wasn't useless? I mean, he sorta was, he was just a plot device, but I hope he didn't feel rushed or whatever.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked it! I really do!

Have an amazing day, everyone! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

918 notes · View notes

arminsumi · 8 months

Note

HELLOOO THERE!! Can I request gojo dating reader because of a bet with suguru and falling for reader, reader doesn’t know and was hurt when they overheard they’re just a bet, angst to fluff pls 🫶🫶🫶

thank youuuu, hope your having a good day!!

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

A/N: u have no idea how much i LOVE this idea anon!!! 💗💗💗 i really hope i did it justice 😩

Wc ≈ 1.4k

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: Suguru betted that Gojo could make anyone fall in love with him, even someone who was his complete opposite — like you.

Warnings; angst-to-fluff, angst contents — {self-loathing (Gojo), crying, heartbreak}, a little bit suggestive at the end, kissing/making out

♪ michelle

It was nice while it lasted.

The handholding in public, the stolen cheek kisses, the pampering and spoiling, relishing in the jealous looks thrown your way when he fed you bites of his food in the cafeteria, bathing in Gojo Satoru's affection. A lot of people would have killed for your position, or even a glimpse into what it's like to date your college's biggest heart throb.

You two seemed to really like each other. It was like two mismatched puzzle pieces somehow fitting together — a fascinating connection was shared. No one would have put you and him together, not even Gojo.

The only reason he asked you out in the first place was...

"Suguru, that's such a nasty idea... I love your mind."

"Just don't actually fall in love with her. The whole idea of this bet is that you can prove any girl can fall in love with you, don't forget that."

Gojo had chuckled at this, it seemed so ridiculous.

Why would he actually fall in love with you? You weren't even his type. He never paid you a sparing glance, not at school, not at parties, not around town.

You weren't his type...

So why did his heart start panging excitedly a few months into your 'fake' relationship? Why did he swoon when you fell asleep laid on his chest in his dorm room? Why did he want to kiss you so badly every time he saw your face? Why did he jump like a cat whenever he got a text from you? Why did he kiss you like the world was ending?

And why did he cry when you found out the truth? He looked distraught when Suguru let the secret slip.

Why did Gojo Satoru, the strongest, beg on his knees for you to stay when you were about to walk away?

"Please! I'm so sorry! I know it was so wrong and fucked up — shit I regret it so much — I really like you! I swear to god, I swear on my life!"

You choked on your tears so badly that you could barely talk. "I can't believe you. This is such a fucking horrible th - thing to do to s - someone, Gojo."

He felt so hurt that you went back to calling him Gojo and not Satoru, like you used to when the two of you were just mild acquaintances.

"Don't go!" He almost yelled.

His arms wrapped around your midriff, he slid down like he was too weak to support himself — like his legs went limp. He slid down until he was clinging to your legs. He sobbed with such a genuine-looking crying face that you almost believed it. He wasn't play-crying like he does to get attention or persuade people, he was ugly-crying.

Gojo Satoru, the prettiest boy you ever knew, was an ugly-crier. A string of saliva glistened between his canines, his mouth hung open like a dramatic renaissance portrait of a distraught man. His eyes were pinched so tight that fat tears cascaded out the corners.

"Please don't go!"

⁕⁕⁕

Suguru found his best friend sat in the middle of the campus' main stairs. Desolate. One hand holding up his heavy head. Regretful. eyes closed.

"So it didn't go well?"

Satoru didn't raise his head, but he slowly opened his eyes and looked miserably at the floor. He watched a line of ants.

"It went as horribly wrong as you could imagine." he responded eventually.

Suguru came to sit next to him. "Are you really in love?" he asked him seriously.

"Of course I fucking am! — sorry..." Satoru snapped, then immediately mumbled an apology.

A long summer breeze went by.

"Try again." he suggested, "I'm sure she'll - "

"She fucking hates me."

There was a heavy silence after Satoru said that.

"If I were her, I'd hate me too." Satoru muttered.

Suguru went silent. He felt guilty, after all, he was the one that dared his best friend to do something as stupid as play with your heart.

Satoru watched the ants scurrying along. He felt as puny and weak as one right then. The realization of these feelings themselves are what urged him to abruptly stand up.

"I'm not giving up. I'm gonna explain to her that I really did fall in love — that I really do fucking like her so god damn much it's insane and stupid."

"That's the spirit — where are you going?" Suguru asked curiously as Satoru began heading over to the parking lot.

"I'm gonna go bring her flowers and... stuff..." he replied unsurely.

Will that really work? He wondered to himself.

"But it's gonna rain." Suguru said, "Heyyy, Satoru, listen don't just — ah, there he goes... idiot really fell in love when I warned him not to..." he muttered pitifully.

⁕⁕⁕

There was a knock at your apartment door.

You wrung it open to reveal a heartbroken Gojo Satoru, soaked-through with rain, standing in the downpour, panting while holding onto a bouquet of vividly red roses. You couldn't have witnessed a more dramatic scene in a movie.

His hair was completely flat with wetness. There were raindrops running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.

On the walk to your apartment, Satoru had mentally written a speech for you.

It was definitely a well-rehearsed heartbroken boy's 'take me back' speech. Flawless and direct. Surely it would have sufficed.

But he didn't say even the first few words of his practiced speech when your door flew open.

All he did was break down crying and fall to his knees right in front of you, like some dramatic actor — except he wasn't acting, you could feel the realness of his regrets and miseries through each sob.

"Satoru..." you looked down at him pitifully. "Come inside, you're gonna get sick." you said tenderly.

For some reason, those very small words communicated more emotions than any form of 'I love you' ever could.

⁕⁕⁕

His pretty nose was slightly upturned. You noticed that when he first kissed you after your third date.

You noticed it again when you observed how red it had become from crying and sneezing.

Wrapping a blanket around him. Drying his hair. Fluffing it with your fingers. Making him some tea. Sitting him down on your bed. Putting on a movie. Letting him curl up into your arms — something he never did when you two were 'dating' because he was convinced he had to show off his dominance to win you over.

All of this together settled the air between you two. But it still didn't explain everything.

"Why'd you do something so dumb?" you asked him half-humorously.

He nibbled and chewed on his lip, eyes on the TV — not really, actually they were looking at your subtle reflection within it.

"I'm an asshole." he admitted.

"You don't say." you chuckled.

He felt bad, and uncurled his body and raised his face to look at you. Satoru never wore a serious expression in all the time you've known him, both as acquaintances and 'lovers' — except for now, which is how you know it's true.

"I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. Suguru dared me because... well, because it seemed comical. We're opposites, no one would ever put us together right? But he and I thought that was a hilarious challenge. We wanted to see if I could catch you and make you fall in love with me, or something like that..."

He started mumbling his words and refused to look at you.

"Satoru."

"Yeah?"

He reared his head up at you.

"Did it mean something to you, the time we spent this summer?"

He didn't hesitate to respond, "It meant everything." he said.

"Well, then there we go." you said with a little smile.

"Am I being forgiven...?"

"Mhm."

He seemed taken aback and unsure. Was he really being forgiven? Were you reversing the script on him and pulling a trick on him now?

"Does this mean..." he mumbled quietly, "... that I'm allowed to kiss you right now?" he asked nervously, heart panging, eyes giving your lips a longing glance.

"You're such an idiot." you sighed, "Yeah of course it means you can kiss m — mmmf!"

You never managed the rest of your words out, they all got muffled on Satoru's lips. His hand came to cup your right cheek, fingers caressing your skin like you meant everything to him. He tilted his head into the kiss, broke apart for air, dove back in, kissed you feverishly fervently violently eagerly — with so much affection and thankfulness that you almost couldn't breathe due to being smothered.

"Sorry..." he panted after breaking the kiss, bottom lip glistening with saliva. "I'm sorry for breaking a heart as good as yours."

"Just don't do it again." you told him in a whisper.

The poor boy, two days without kissing was really too much for him. He went right back in and kissed you blue, until you gasped and subconsciously wrapped your legs around his slim waist and pulled him closer. His whole body felt hot and eager. You tasted so good, you looked so good, you loved him so good — he decided right there in the back of his mind that he'd marry you after graduation.

1K notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 1 year

Note

i don't know if this is how i request so i apologise if i get anything wrong!

could you please do the childhood crush with capitano but instead of capitano, it's pantalone? it's okay if you don't wish to do this!

(p.s. this is my first time requesting, pls go easy on me)

♡ 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡

synopsis: When you were a child, you decided to befriend an orphan who always seemed to be by himself. He would not forget this act of kindness.

includes: pantalone w/ gn! reader

notes: Of course, this was quite fun to write! I hope you all enjoy it. (It gets very fluffy towards the end <3.)

Sneznhaya was one of the worst nations to be poor in, you decided from an early age. You had to have some kind of thick jacket to survive even the warmest days (which was still borderline in the negatives) otherwise you would die so quickly from frostbite. You had to have some kind of fireplace in your house and also a stable firewood source otherwise you’d freeze to death too. You had to be smart about preserving and salting your food because of the cold, and much more difficult tasks that would be easy to do in other nations. All of these factors were part of the reason why orphans did not last very long, unfortunately (unless you were pulled into the House of Hearth… would that be a blessing or curse?)

Even though you were dirt poor, you were still more fortunate than a lot of people in poverty. You had a house, albeit a small one. You had a bed, though it felt like a stone-cold rock most of the time. You had parents who cherished you, although sometimes you did not see them for the whole day since they worked hard so you could go to school instead, even though you should have been working to bring income in. Of course, you kept all of your complaints to yourself. You were far better off than most kids.

The first time you met the boy was on your way home from school. You had exited the raggedy building when you came across a boy with rather well-kept hair. Usually, the children around the slums were untidy and uncaring about their appearance. Yet his looked fine, at least better than average around here. But what drew you in was his brilliant purple eyes. You had never met anyone with that eye color. You didn’t realize you were staring at him until you noticed his eyes were on you. Your words died in your throat of embarrassment, so you quickly nodded your head at him and speedily walked away.

You hoped that you wouldn’t see the boy again, because you didn’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye again. You were the kind of person who cringed at even the slightest dumb thing you did a long time ago and knocked your head against the wall thinking about it. But, it seemed that the Tsaritsa did not answer your prayers because you saw the same boy again the next day. And the next day. And for the entire week. And soon, you realized that his eyes were always trained in the same direction - the school. You connected the dots quickly, mentally prepared yourself for conversation, and strode up to him.

The boy immediately noticed you as you pressed your back against the wall, leaving a bit of distance between the two of you. You didn’t want to invade his personal space.

“So, I’ve seen you here every day. How come?”

Silence.

“Not much of a talker, are you?”

Silence.

“You want to go to school, don’t you?”

“...!”

The boy’s breath hitched for a second and you knew you were right. He turned his gaze from you and looked back at the building, where children were being dismissed. You didn’t need to ask why. It was obvious that he had to work instead to survive. The two of you stood in silence when, all of a sudden, you came up with a genius idea.

“How about I teach you instead?”

The offer had the boy’s neck snapping back to you. “What?”

“Yeah! After school ends, you can come to my house, and I’ll teach you what I learn, and other stuff too. It’ll be like real school, minus the yelling and the crowds and the other annoying things!” The idea seemed better and better the more you spoke.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise but a look of caution quickly overtook his face, purple eyes conveying a look of distrust. “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s your motive? Surely you don’t think I’m that naive to believe you.”

You were taken aback. “I-I mean… I don’t really know what to say. I’m just a kid, I don’t really know what ulterior motive I would have. Does wanting to become friends with you count as one? You really look like you want to learn, so I just wanna help you,” you said plainly with a hint of confusion in your voice.

For the second time that day, the boy was taken aback, because he could see that you were being genuine and he couldn’t understand why. You were being kind from the bottom of your heart, and he couldn’t comprehend why you would do this for a stranger.

You tried to ignore the piercing look the boy who was only your age managed to give you. “So can I assume you’re taking the offer? I’m [Name] by the way!”

The boy uttered his real name, and everything began from there.

Every day you invited your newfound friend into your house. Your parents were never home until late, so it was easy to do so. And so began the lessons of you teaching him everything you knew and learned in school. You taught him how to curve the letters of the alphabet correctly. You helped him to learn to read your favorite children’s books. You told him what you remembered of your teacher’s boring rambling about Snezhnaya’s history and that hey, oxygen came from trees! (He knew that, the boy said. He wasn’t that dumb. You pouted.) But the thing he was best at was math. As soon as you taught him the basics, he was speeding through the questions faster than you.

You watched in amazement as he whizzed through the questions without even needing to use his fingers to add (which you still did sometimes, embarrassingly enough.) He was completely focused on it, writing his answers in handwriting that got better every passing day. And soon enough, he handed you his answers to check. It started to become less of a surprise when he got all of them right on his first try, as you compared his work with the one from your homework.

“You got all of them right again!” you cheered as you shook his shoulders in excitement. “Haha, you’re better than me at this point. I can’t do mental math as well as you can.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you.” If there was one thing you knew about your friend, was that he was a good sweet talker. You’d seen him talk his way out of situations that you would surely die in, and also compliment you like it was nothing.

“At this point, you can become an economics! No, wait… I think it’s called an economist? Or an accountant? Something to do with numbers and counting!”

Something twinkled in his eyes. “Do you really think that?”

“Mhm! You’re the smartest person I know. You adapt to everything so quickly. It took me a long time to get these concepts down yet you did it easily.”

The boy did not say anything but his shoulders relaxed under your touch, and then he spoke. “I’m going to become rich.”

“You are?” you asked, hopping onto the chair next to him. Everyone, regardless of anything, has dreamed of becoming rich. But the way he said it with such firmness had you drawn in.

“Money is the lifeblood of this world. No one can survive without it,” the hardened and steely look in his eyes and voice made you stiffen for a second. “Even the Gods desire to let it flow between their fingers.”

You looked at him for a few seconds before grabbing his cold hand and squeezing it. “I believe in you,” you declared resolutely. Your friend’s harsh look dissipated and a smile came onto his face. You loved it when he smiled. “Just remember me when you’re rich. Share a bit with me, hm?” you laughed.

But the boy did not laugh at what you meant to be a joke. “I will,” he said firmly. “I’ll give you as much as you want and more.”

Since then, you spent more and more time with him, even outside the regular tutoring sessions. Once you had opened yourself up to him, he had responded somewhat in kind. He liked to talk about things he read in the paper after you taught him to read. Out on the streets, he would ask you about words he saw on shop windows’ he didn’t know yet. Your favorite activity was when you’d give him something to read out loud to you, enjoying how his stumbling grew from frequent to occasional. But when it came to other topics he kept his mouth thin and shut. You never commented on it, but you could see he didn’t have a good relationship with anyone else. It seemed that he held some kind of animosity toward a good chunk of people. Especially the upper class, even some of the kids as you noticed that some of them weren’t very nice to him. Even the Gods themselves weren’t spared from this.

You didn’t know what kind of childhood he had, and you didn’t pry. It wasn’t your business, and furthermore, you wanted him to remember the happier memories he made with you instead. You showed him how to build snowmen and snow angels. You once threw a snowball at his hair and immediately regretted it as he launched a tickle attack back at you. The orphan was your best friend and you soon realized that you had a crush on him. You would lie in bed, rolling over as you thought about the kind of wedding you’d have him with. You would have kids and then the two of you would soon be grandparents and then the house would be so much more lively and fun and- you smushed your face between your pillow. Enough of that! You first had to make sure both of you survived this hellish place to even make it to adulthood.

It got to the point where you wanted to share some of your meager rations with him too. He was always hungry, and you were too but you wanted to help him out as much as you could. You would sneak a good portion of your bread or anything that wasn’t messy under the kitchen table, slip it into your sleeve quickly so your parents didn’t know. You gobbled down your sparse dinner in seconds, not wanting to leave your friend standing outside in one spot for too long. You went into your room and quickly locked the door, glancing at the window near your bed. You pulled the curtains to the side, and there he was! Opening your window always warranted a flurry of snow flying into your face but seeing his face light up was worth it.

Years passed, and the two of you were older, almost adults. You had left school since the only available schooling in the area was for younger kids only, and now worked in a miserable job like most people. But you always made sure to try and visit your long-time friend, who seemed to be busier and busier these days. You had a feeling he was up to something, whether it was good or bad, legal or illegal, but you didn’t pry. His absence had begun to cause you to seek out other company, for it was not good for one to be left alone in their thoughts in this kind of situation.

Who was your company? The neighborhood kids, of course. They reminded you of when you were younger, even though it was just a few years ago. They always gathered around you when they had time off from their barely paid labor, and you made sure to teach them the same things you taught your crush a few years ago. But you soon learned, it was rather hard to do that when they were so exhausted from working. Tiny hands were already calloused from the back-backing jobs and they were asleep in an instant afterward.

So you did what you could. Having a couple of hours of rest made a big difference to growing bodies, you reminded the kids. You took their shifts on different days and at different times, making sure you wore as many layers as possible so you wouldn’t be caught. The employers wouldn’t take much notice anyway. They didn’t care who did it as long as the work was done. The only thing you did not anticipate was your long-time crush finding you.

“[Name]?” The callout of your name made your heart freeze. “Don’t worry, it’s just me.” You then recognized the voice as your childhood friend. Turning around, you pulled down the hood and uttered your friend’s name, which you cherished dearly.

“I was looking for you, and I find you here, working in someone else’s place. What are you doing?” The boy’s voice was hushed, laced with a hint of something else underneath. Worry. Concern. Distress. What if you get sick? Get hurt? Get caught?

“Look… I did not mean to worry you. I just, it hurts me to see the little ones spending so much time working. I just want to help them.”

The boy had known you for many years, yet neither his mind could ever comprehend why you were so kind to others. It never benefitted you, only served as extra weight and a burden on your shoulders. “But you already have long shifts to work. Your body can’t handle this…”

“Hey, who was the one who managed to run away with you all those times? I’m pretty strong! Furthermore, as long as I keep the hoodie up, they won’t recognize the difference. Those people don’t care as long as the work gets done. They’re just little kids, you know. Just like we were. Some of them haven’t even learned proper Snezhnayan yet, but they’re out here slaving away and working to the point of exhaustion. I just… can’t. If I can help them keep even a fraction of a childhood intact, I will.”

The boy’s heart was moved by your kindness innumerable times. “But, aren’t you just a kid as well?”

“I am,” you agreed. “But I’m still an older one. Just a bit more until we’re adults, you know. I’ve already had my time. I’d rather help the others now. Besides, it builds stamina and work ethic,” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

Your friend didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could really say, after all. This was just how life was like. But it was days like these where he remembered the promise he made to himself and you - neither of you would have to deal with this ever again, soon.

The boy moved to help you, which surprised you. “You don’t have to, you know. I’m sure you’re busy with other things.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been wanting to spend time with you for a while. I’ve missed you.” You blushed and nervously laughed at his straightforwardness. He could either pretend to be oblivious to your intentions, trying to make you say what you wanted out loud. Or just be so blunt that it caught you off guard.

“Heh, I’ve missed you too. You know, I have a good story for you…”

Since then, your friend had popped up more and more frequently, making your lovesick heart pound. Even if you had nothing left to talk about, you made something up, if only to keep him next to you for a few more minutes. You think he knew what you were doing, but he didn’t comment. You loved him for not exposing you like that. Despite the circumstances of your life not being very great, you always felt great around him. Until one day, you woke up with a splitting headache. Odd, but not unbelievable. You must have pushed yourself too hard yesterday. Your body feels so, so cold, but you have to go… have to go to work, and see your friend. You inched yourself to the edge of the bed, but you did not make it to the end.

You woke up to the hazy sight of your parents and a man. Presumably a doctor, considering how awful you feel right now and his white lab coat.

“It seems your child has… they must have stayed out in the cold too much… overworked… the medicine is quite expensive though, at least… that’s the minimum though…” the words were blurred together for you. Despite your fuzzy mind, you already got the gist of what was going on by the pain-stricken look on your parent's faces. They couldn’t afford that. You went back to sleep.

The next time you were woken up by the voice of the one who held most dear. You didn’t open your eyes, but you knew he was there, from his comforting voice as he stroked your arm. “I told you… overdo it… but that’s just how you are… too kind… make sure… better… love…” Your consciousness drifted away again.

The next few days you did not remember well, until your parents barged into the room with tears in their eyes, holding some sort of package. A sip of water and something fell down your throat, and you were soon asleep again.

You woke up the next day, feeling significantly better than before. Your parents were moved to tears, and they quickly recounted what had happened. Someone knocked on the door, and when they opened it, there was nothing but a package and a note left there. Inside was the medicine you needed, yet they did not know who placed it there. But you already knew the only person who’d do that for you.

You recognized the handwriting on the note as your friend’s. It was almost laughable. When you were first teaching him, he could barely form the letters properly, but he had practiced far more than you ever did, resulting in the pretty curves of words on a surprisingly strong piece of paper. You idly wondered how he managed to get it.

This medicine will make you better. Don’t worry about how I got it.

I have decided to leave this place for a while and pursue the dream I told you about. At first, despite my resolution, I was not sure how to go about it. But after seeing the things that happen to you, to a good person, I made up my mind to attain what I desire.

I would like to write more, but I’m afraid I do not have the time right now. But, do not worry. I will come back for you.

Please don’t push yourself too hard until then. I promise, soon you will not have to suffer any longer. Until then, thank you for believing in me.

The note ended there.

Even though your mind was still fuzzy from the fever, the contents of the letter quickly snapped you out of a stupefied daze. He left? Just like that? Of course, you weren’t mad at him for leaving. After all, you encouraged him to go for it, to at least try so that he wouldn’t meet the same fate as most people who lived in the slums did. But you didn’t even get to say goodbye. No hug or anything. No time to tell him how you felt. The reality of that made your heart sink.

You weren’t able to leave bed for a few days but as soon as you felt better again you roamed the streets, looking for the familiar tufts of black hair. You trudged through the thick snow, checking all possible spots he could be in, but to no avail. He was gone. It was as if he never existed too - the only thing you had to remember him by was this note. You thought about him every day, hoped for his success in his endeavors, and a small part of you hoped he thought about you too.

When you became of age, you were approached with an offer from the Northland Bank. You’re completely baffled at first, and a bit scared. Mostly Fatui members worked there, and why would they approach a low-class citizen like yourself too? But the offer was too tempting, the money calling your name and empty stomach more than ever. Your position was one of the lowest, simply making sure you had a perfect customer service smile as you directed customers where to go for their issues, but it paid damn well compared to the jobs in the slums. You worked hard and humbly, unaware your job was pulled behind the scenes by a… certain rising Fatui member.

A few years went by, and your position only went up. You weren’t really sure why when there were much more qualified Fatui workers than you but you gratefully accepted it. You had gotten used to the daily routine of greeting customers and helping them with their accounts. A while ago, you remember the bank being in a slight uproar over something.

“What’s all the commotion about?” you questioned. The bank was usually a quiet place.

“Northland Bank is now under the control of someone new! A new Harbinger has control of all the banks now!”

“Oh really? I didn’t expect that.”

“No, no, no - it’s not just that. You need to look at the picture of him. He’s jaw-dropping!!” your co-worker squealed as they shoved the newspaper into your face. You chuckled and dropped your eyes to the paper, but your smile immediately disappeared, and your face contorted into one of disbelief at who you saw. You snatched the paper out of their hands and practically pressed it to your face.

It couldn’t be. But the hair, the way his lips curved, the flutter of his eyelashes when he smiled. It was way too similar. You skimmed the article for more information. Pantalone, the new ninth Harbinger, was now the wealthiest among them… in charge of Snezhnaya’s economy and money supply… ambitious and promising.

You shakily put down the paper. The one in the papers was your childhood friend. So this was where he was all these years? Working for the Fatui? He’d been in the same nation the whole time and you didn’t know. But, that was a relief at the same time. At least he wasn’t somewhere far away.

“You looked like you’ve seen a ghost,” your co-worker chuckled. “Did his beauty stun you that much?”

You nervously chuckled and nodded in agreement, trying to organize your thoughts. Your childhood friend had achieved the dream he told you about so long ago. He didn’t just become rich, but a Harbinger at that, one of the most powerful positions in Snezhnaya and the world - he became Pantalone. And furthermore… he had grown up to be such a handsome, classy man. Your heart raced just thinking about him, as all the childhood memories rushed to your head. Did he remember you? No, no, that was countless years ago. He had the most luxurious life one could ever imagine. No way he would remember the random friend he made that long ago.

But that was okay, you thought as prepared to start working again. You were okay with burying these feelings again. You would be happy seeing him from afar, happy that he was living the life he deserved.

A year or two had passed since Pantalone was officially inducted as a Harbinger. Even though you decided you would be happy observing him from afar, it didn’t stop you from cutting out the articles of every newspaper Pantalone was in. You couldn’t help it - it had been so long. When the Harbingers were gathered in Snezhnaya, you’d brave the crowds and peer around for him. Some days you did not manage to see him. Your view was mostly obstructed by the cheering citizens, but one day, you were able to see him up close. It took your breath away. He was ethereal… You had to beeline it out of there before you started to get too emotional. The only thing you had yet to be aware of was that the ninth Harbinger himself saw you. Yes, he had always been keeping a close eye on you, staying his distance only for your safety. But that was soon to change.

It was another normal day at Northland Bank. The only noteworthy thing was that someone important was set to visit soon, so everyone was expected to be on their best behavior. It wasn’t anything new though - many people wanted to see the richest bank in Teyvat.

“[Name], could you go retrieve the documents of this client for me, please? Their name is…” your co-worker called. You nodded, after all, you had to return some files to the room as well. You got up, hands full, and headed to the room when your co-worker called for you again.

You turned around to face her and kept walking backward, ready to listen to her request when suddenly her face turned very pale. It looked like she was mouthing something to you and making an ‘X’ with her arms. Of course, you were confused by this gesture, so you turned back around to see what was wrong. But your vision was blocked by a black wall, one that had bits of blue and silver embroidering it, and before you could stop your legs from moving, you walked smack right into it.

“Watch it, dear,” a pair of hands reached out to steady your shoulders. “Make sure to watch where you’re going, hm?”

Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat. That sleek voice was all too familiar, and the feeling of the bands of bejeweled rings through the gloves was a tell-tale sign of who it was. The visitor to the bank today was the Ninth Harbinger, Pantalone, and no one told you.

“Such a hard worker, aren’t you? So diligent,” the voice purred, his arms moving from your shoulders to down your arms, smoothing out your clothing and releasing you. Should you look up? Would that be disrespectful? You should respond though, right?

“Yes,” you said meekly. “Yes, sir,” you quickly corrected yourself. A moment of silence passed, and you think he was expecting you to raise your head, but you kept your stare on his well-polished shoes, which probably cost more than everything you own.

“Excuse me then, sir,” you stated timidly, desperate to get out of the situation. Before Pantalone could say anything, you bowed your head even more and speedily walked away, making sure to lock yourself in the files cabinet room. If you could scream right now, you would, because what the hell just happened?!

Outside, Pantalone was left with his usual smile. But inside, he was truly pleased - he was finally able to touch you after countless years. Oh, but the way you didn’t even look at his face left him slightly wounded; he wanted to see your eyes tremble with emotion and see your soft lips up close. But he did not need to worry. He would be seeing much more of you after all. Walking out of the bank, he left everyone in shock.

You prayed that you would not have to go through something like that but nope. Every day, Pantalone would come into the bank with the excuse of inspecting and observing the premises. But you knew that was a damn lie because all you could feel while you were working was his gaze on you. He would not hesitate to come up behind you and watch you work, making you nervous and almost mess up, with his silky compliments going to your head. He smelled so good and his hair bounced with practically every step, his voice had deepened to a velvety smooth one.

It was impossible for your childhood crush to not come creeping back up. The only problem was that you could not bring yourself to muster any conversation, so it was primarily Pantalone speaking. The only thing he managed to wring out of you was “Yes, sir” or “No, sir.” The most embarrassing part of this was that everyone in the bank knew what was going on. Yet the Harbinger did not seem to care. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, as if he was sending out an undeniable message that said “They’re mine.”

Pantalone knew he had many admirers, people who lusted after him and his wealth. Yet the only one he had eyes were was you - the only person who had stayed with him since the miserable days of his childhood. He had been separated from you for so many years, building his reputation and wealth, slowly but surely, keeping you in mind as he worked tirelessly. Even when he became a Harbinger, he had to keep his distance and sort out any possible enemies. But now, he could finally have you all to himself.

Pantalone had caught you after your shift ended. As soon as you exited the bank, he was right there waiting for you, with that smile you deeply loved yet would not admit. You looked to the sides to see if there were any possible ways to escape, but he had trapped you.

“My dear [Name], why don’t we take a walk together? The weather is not too bad today.”

And that was how you found yourself in your current situation, walking side by side with your crush. Your throat felt dry as Pantalone spoke.

“You’ve been quite cold,” he feigned hurt. “It wounds me so that my dear childhood friend would forget me.”

You don’t know what came over you, but you immediately responded to that. “I didn’t forget. I could never forget you. I remember everything,” you blurted out swiftly. “I just,” you stopped walking and stared at the snow-covered path, thinking of what to say. Pantalone stopped walking too.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you, I do very much in fact, it’s just that I don’t really know how to act since you’re a fancy Harbinger now and I’m just me, a normal person. And I didn’t really know if you’d still wanna talk to me since you have way better people to interact with anyway, and plus-”

“[Name],” Pantalone interrupted you. “Look at me.”

Hesitantly, you dragged your eyes from the ground to his face. His smile was gone, and his expression was unreadable, but he spread his arms to the side and uttered two words. “Come here,” he beckoned. That was all you needed as you jumped into his arms, pressing your face against his chest.

His hand stroked your hair and you melted into his touch instantly. “Darling, I can’t fathom how or why you would come to such a conclusion, but it’s quite the opposite. You are the only one who occupies my thoughts. The one who was the only light in my childhood. The one who saved me and helped me, expecting nothing in return.” His voice was soft as he held you tighter. “You are the only one I want.”

Your heart rate had increased significantly at his declaration of love. This was too much to process, so you opted to just squeeze your arms around him tighter. He got the message and allowed you time to take that in. Finally, you lifted your head up and peeked at his gorgeous face.

“Are you mad at me?” you said regretfully.

“I can assure you I could never be upset at anything you would do. That face is too adorable to be mad at,” he chuckled. You gritted your teeth. Why did he have to be so damn suave all the time?

His finger came to hook under your chin, making you raise your head more. His thumb playfully stroked your lips, wanting nothing more than to claim them as his.

“May I?”

You did not respond and instead jumped at the opportunity to surprise him, capturing his perfectly soft lips in yours. Clearly, he was not expecting that as his eyes widened, but he promptly bounced back by responding with more passion. And Archons, it was amazing. You didn’t really know what you were doing, but he took control flawlessly. He withdrew from the kiss, enjoying your breathless expression.

“I’m taking you home, to your new home,” he corrected himself. Smiling at your wide-eyed look, he pecked your lips again. “Surely you did not think,” he kissed you again, “that you would be away from me now? You’re going to live with me, of course.”

“I d-didn’t know we were just diving straight into- mhpm!” Your lips were not being spared from Pantalone’s greedy assault.

“I have had to deal with being away from you for years, not being able to feel you or talk to you, dealing with people who meant nothing to me. Do you know how painful that was?” Pantalone spoke genuinely and cupped your cheek. “I hope you do not plan to deny me, for I intend to spend as much time as possible with you starting now.”

You reached up and intertwined your fingers with his hand on your cheek. “Well… that sounds very good to me. I’ve missed you so much,” you agreed shyly, gazing into his loving eyes.

“Good,” Pantalone placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we, my love? Ah, and we’ll have to organize a new wardrobe for you, meals, products, assigned maids…” he continued to list off new items that you would have. (He promised the best for you, after all.)

You sweatdropped, slightly lost at his rambling. Did you really need all of that? But, you’d think about that later. You tugged at his arm, interrupting his mumblings.

“Come on, let’s go home, okay? I have a story I’ve been wanting you to read for me…”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #pantalone x reader #pantalone fluff #pantalone genshin #pantalone #genshin impact pantalone #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers

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agendabymooner · 2 months

Text

SOMETHING ROTTEN !!! FERNANDO A. X FEM!READER X JENSON B. (18+)

summary: for fernando and jenson, nothing is ever 'too much.' perhaps that's why they insisted that the necklace they bought her was worth it. (possible part two of something spoiled)

content warning: smut below the cut (minors dni), explicit language, dom!sugar daddies!jenson and fernando x sub!sb!reader, mfm threesome, overstimulation, dumbification + degradation, anal play, titfucking, double penetration, mentions creampie (pls don't do that)

💌re:moony's planner request: "hey i was wondering if you’d write a smut with jensen button x fernando alonso x reader maybe with one being mean and overstim and dumbification pretty please"

note: just pulling this out of my ass because i want to write something before i decide to get up at 3am to do my school work. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

since becoming fernando’s sugar baby, she tried to get herself out of the habit of being extremely humble and indulged in one of his displays of affection.

she was quite there, if she was being honest. but then, fernando’s ex-teammate jenson button came barreling into her life. no wait, scratch that— the british man came to her and fernando’s shared space for dinner and hadn’t even hidden the way he eyefucked her.

so now, it was like her life involved an angel and a devil. one of them made her want to ask for more while the other made her feel so meek and shy.

but both men had every intention to have her ask for more. they were not about to let her quiet down when expressing her wants and needs. especially since she got out of her way to meet their needs and desires.

it’s been a year since jenson joined the two, half a year since he moved in with them in a larger place, and as fernando’s season started - she became more occupied at home than she used to be.

jenson was retired, thus he provided her with the company she sought whenever fernando wasn’t around. of course, fernando hadn’t minded - as long as he was getting videos or even pictures of their girl being fucked by the british while he was gone.

having a lover who was retired gave fernando more opportunity to make the girl feel more lenient about being spoiled whilst gone.

fernando would often send messages to or even call jenson whenever the aston martin driver saw something online that would look nice on her, and jenson would immediately take her shopping.

and it would often lead jenson to fuck her senselessly when they get back from shopping, after she would give him a private fashion show.

now here she was, insisting that she really didn’t want the glimmering necklace from bulgari as jenson tutted her.

the british man gave her a smug smile as she continued to eye the diamond encrusted necklace, the emerald in the middle just as big as her baffled eyes. she said she didn’t want it, yet she was ogling the necklace and its pairing earrings.

“we’ll take it,” jenson nodded to the associate in front of them, with her snapping her head towards his direction.

“jenson—“

“does it come with a bracelet, too?” jenson grinned widely.

the fucking piece of shit wasn’t even listening to her protests. jenson couldn’t find himself to listen at the moment, knowing that she would look so beautiful with the parure on occasions that he and fernando would attend with her.

once they made it back to their place and jenson had put everything down, she pursed her lips at the sight of the bulgari bag as she said, “that was too much.”

jenson turned around, his expression softening at the sight of her pout as he approached her with a reassuring smile. “nothing is ever ‘too much’ for me and fernando, baby,” he kissed her lips and mumbled, “and that means nothing should ever be enough for you too. hm?”

“where would i even wear that whole… thing?” she mumbled back, shying away from jenson. “i know you and nando will like it but where would i even wear that?”

jenson’s soft smile turned into a wide smirk as he nipped her skin, earning a moan from her. jenson then said, “don’t worry sweetheart. when he gets back tonight, you’ll find a reason to wear that pretty necklace and earrings of yours. maybe we’ll even get to see the bracelet, too.”

so here she was, her cunt clenching around jenson’s throbbing cock as the british man fucked her from behind. the emerald necklace dangled on her neck, shining under the chandelier while her tits were glistening. fernando’s cock pistoned in between her tits as she squeezed them.

“mm, fuck, bonita,” fernando growled lowly, thrusting his hips up as she let out a loud moan. “even without the necklace, your tits are just as beautiful as ever,” he muttered, “fucking missed these tits of yours. i missed fucking them and i missed playing with them.”

jenson smirked as he continued to fuck her from behind, his fingers collecting her wetness and spreading it across her other hole before he began to thrust his fingers into it.

“oh, fuck,” she moaned loudly, unable to utter anymore words as she tried to keep her composure. her elbows dug into fernando’s thighs and her palms squeezed her breast together, watching the way the tip of fernando’s cock disappear then reappear in between her pair of tits.

“you’re so tight in both holes, baby,” jenson crooned mockingly as he continued to prod his fingers in her backhole and his cock in her already overstimulated cunt. “you cummin’ again?”

her incoherent words were music to the men’s ears. nothing felt more arousing than hearing their girl cry for them like she needed them. at least for once, she wasn’t shying away from what she wanted.

she babbled, “j- nando- ‘m- hah~ fuck…”

fernando’s hand reached down to slap her face lightly and he mocked her, “mmm… you’re getting too dumb, princesa? is it too much? come on, tell us.”

“‘s too much,” she whined pitifully. “too much.”

“but you love it, don’t you?” fernando continued with a laugh, watching her nod eagerly. god, she was so fucked out already and she hadn’t even been fucked by both yet. “yes? you love cumming too much? you love jenson’s cock inside of you like a dumb little whore you are?”

“yes, yes,” she nodded once more and cried out loudly when jenson added another finger. “oh fuck! hah! god, jenson!”

“ease up, baby,” jenson murmured. “you’re doin’ so good. ‘m just prepping you, that’s all.”

“‘m gonna cum again, fuck!” she screamed silently.

fernando and jenson both chuckled darkly, unable to keep their amusement to themselves as both of them finally pulled away once she reached her fifth orgasm.

the two older men switched places, with jenson lying on the bed and fernando moving around to get something. jenson patted his bare thigh and ordered her, “up on my cock, sweets. c’mon.”

she couldn’t think anymore, panting heavily while she knelt on the mattress. it seemed like she was unable to process her british lover’s words, because her spanish one had to drag her lightly towards jenson’s lap before she even sunk down on his cock once more.

a sigh escaped her lips, her cunt still throbbing after her intense orgasm.

fernando finally moved behind her and entered her slowly, eliciting a whine from her as she murmured about how good it was… or at least, she tried to tell them but she was just incredibly fucked out.

“mierda,” fernando cursed as he and jenson began to move inside her. his hands gripped her hips as he continued to fuck her. “you’re so tight, bonita.”

“mm— nando,” she cried out, her back arching against fernando’s chest as the emerald necklace glimmered once more.

“so fuckin’ divine, baby,” jenson groaned, watching her tits above him bounce against the jewelry she wore. “look at you- so beautiful looking so fucked out with that necklace on your neck.”

“even better when she’s begging without even knowing what she wants,” fernando added from behind her. “she’s pretty even when she’s dumb for our cocks.”

their hips began to snap against hers, earning loud mewls from her. both men groaned loudly and gradually increased their pace as they chased their highs and hers.

“oh, fuuuuuck,” jenson groaned loudly, his thumb toying with her clit. “‘m gonna cum baby. gonna cum inside this pretty pussy of yours.”

“fuck,” fernando whispered heatedly, his movements now rougher and slower as he reached his orgasm and painted her walls white.

she whined as she reached her orgasm as well, her eyes rolling back at the feeling of fullness and her climax.

jenson came inside her as well, thrusting up into her slowly as he let out a guttural moan.

panting heavily, both men pulled out of her and lied her down in between them. they hadn’t even minded their cums leaking out of her holes as they brought her close to them.

she seemed content, like she actually had her wishes fulfilled. like she actually told them what she wanted rather than shying away from it.

both jenson and fernando, however, knew that she should start speaking up about what she wanted outside of the bedroom too. because she was their girl, and she deserved the universe and more.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck

♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness

#formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula one fic #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #fernando alonso smut #jenson button smut #fernando alonso imagine #jenson button imagine #fa14 #jb22 #fernando alonso x reader #jenson button x reader #💌 re:moony’s planner #♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut

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taintedcigs · 10 months

Text

i know places — e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x popular cheerleader!f!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, smut, p in v, kind of degradation, jealousy, praises, nicknames, br*eding kink, cre*mpie, FIGHT!!, eddie beats someone up, gareth is an asshole im sorry, and some flufff

summary: in which you are secretly dating eddie because his friends don't like you (wc: 6k+)

a/n: HELLO hello I AM BACK! i kind of hate this, and the ending sucks pls ignore it but i wanted to post it so bad bc i love ts x eddie!! also a part of this was heavily HEAVILY inspired by an ep of veronica mars bc its one of my fav shows!! also no dividers and i didn't proof-read SO PLEASE ignore the mistakes plss

Four months.

It had been four months since you and Eddie had started to “secretly date.”

And in all honesty, it had been fun. The sneaking around, the private dates, the quick fuck seshs in school, in the supply closet, after his D&D campaigns, in his van, in the woods.

And the teasing, oh god, the teasing.

It's why you were currently scrunched up in the back of his van, ragged breathing and curses, heavy tension filling the space.

“You done teasin’?” he asked, hovering over you.

It started with the glances in the hallway, at first, Eddie thought they were innocent. But the way you threw your head back as you touched Andy’s arm had Eddie’s jaw clenched.

He was sure his blood was boiling by the time he dragged you back to his van.

He dismissed your concerns about how he shouldn’t skip English again, he could care less, he needed you, and he needed you now.

It was driving him crazy too, while he had fun, he hated the idea of not being able to tell those stupid jocks to back off of his girl.

He hated the stupid school hierarchy and his friends for having to keep this relationship a secret, he hated not being able to show you off.

“Teasing?” You asked, an innocent smile playing on your lips.

“C’mon don’t play coy now.” He warned, “I know what you were tryin’ to do with that stupid jock.” He scoffed.

“And did it work?” You batted your lashes, and he rolled his tongue inside of his cheek. “Yeah.” He barely gave you any time to adjust before his lips hungrily attacked yours.

So needy and filled with lust that you couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your lips. He didn’t waste any time as he reached for the edge of your tiny top almost ripping it off and letting it drop to the van’s floor.

You could feel your breath hitch with how rough he was being, his calloused fingers flipping your cheerleader skirt and moving your panties aside, sliding a finger as he groaned at the wetness, partying your pussy to get a better view of your gushing heat.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” He cursed under his breath, “Such a pretty fucking pussy, baby,” He peppered your heat. “All mine, yea?” He asked needily.

His fingers worked your clit with little circles, causing you to whimper out. “Mhmm.” You barely let out, eyes shutting immediately in pleasure.

His fingers worked to stretch you open, and his visible bulge was pressing hard against his uncomfortable pants, you knew you would get what you had been begging for all morning soon.

“You think it’s fuckin’ funny to try to make me jealous?” He raised a brow, and you stopped your lips from twitching into a smirk, you didn’t need him to edge you, not right now, not when you needed him this much.

“Nuh-uh.” You pouted, “Only did it cause you kept flirting with that girl yesterday at the gig.” You huffed, you knew you were being petty, but could care less, the downside to this whole deal was the fact that you couldn’t tell those girls to back off of him, you just had to smile and watch as they swooned all over him.

And if he could play at that game, so could you.

He gave you a slight chuckle before his fingers plunged in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned for more. “Needy fuckin’ slut.” He’s being mean, and you love it.

“I’ll give you all the attention you need, yea? Such a bratty baby.” He teased.

You cried out when he retracted his fingers, feeling empty as you pouted at him. He was quick to get his aching cock out of the uncomfortable boxers, bouncing against his stomach as he hissed.

His breathing was ragged as his cock flexed in his palm, causing your thighs to tremble with need, “Do something.” You breathed.

He raised a brow at your eagerness, “Please,” You pleaded, tears welling in your eyes at the pent-up frustration inside of you.

He was quick to dip his head down your chest, mouth nibbling at your nipples, and you arched against his fingers, he was driving you crazy and you could feel his aching cock brush against your thighs.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” He cried out pinching your clit, “And all mine,” You liked how rough and possessive he got when he was jealous, you didn’t care that it was wrong, your heat was pulsing relentlessly with need.

“Jesus,” He cried out when he had one hand on your hip, and used the other to rub the tip of his pulsing cock against your entrance.

You trembled with desire when he teased you further, his pink tip sliding easily over your soaking cunt, “C’mon, thought you wanted to fuckin’ tease me?” He mocked.

“You’re already cryin’ out like a whore and I haven’t even touched you properly yet, peach,” He cooes, causing you to whine.

“N—need you,” Barely able to speak, you spread your thighs further, and Eddie gives you a chuckle, his mocking was making you throb even more.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you spread your legs like that for that dumb jock too, honey?” His words are laced with bitterness and you’re quick to shake your head.

“Uh—uh, only you,” You whine, he’s rough as he grabs your cheeks making you look at him, your eyes widen as you desperately plead for him to do something — anything.

“Since I own this tight little cunt, I’m gonna use it like I fuckin’ want to,” He growls, and you whimper at that, Eddie’s lips tilt into a smirk, he knows you enjoy his words. “You want that, peach? You want me to wreck this pretty little pussy? Fill you to the brim with my warm load?” He asks, and it makes you tilt your head backward in pleasure when he teases his tip against your entrance again.

“Mpmhm… Fuckfuckfuck, yes please!” You’re practically shaking with the need to be fucked.

He grasped your wrists in one hand, pinning them against the cold walls of his van, making you hiss, barely giving you any warning before he slowly prodded his aching cock inside your velvety walls.

“Fuckohfuckohfuck,” His breathing was ragged and you could almost feel his cock splitting you open, your mouth rounding into a silent ‘Oh.’

As he plunged himself deeper into you, your back arched back toward him, making your cunt clamp down on his cock, and he growled, “S’fuckin’ tight, poor baby must’ve felt so empty without my cock, yea?” He cooes and you nod quickly.

You could feel your insides burn, both from need and from how big Eddie was. “Mmmph, greedy fuckin’ cunt. Takin’ me so well, honey.” He murmured peppering your face with kisses, you could barely take in his words, your mind clouded with desire.

Your eyes welled up in tears again, it felt so fucking good, feeling him this deep inside of you, “Shhh… you can do it baby,” Eddie encouraged as he forced himself deeper into your soaking walls.

“Be a good girl and take it all, can you do that honey?” You nodded immediately, Eddie’s hands were quick to caress your cheeks, “Good fuckin’ girl,” He murmured before he went on and on, his cock invading your walls until he was sure he was balls deep inside of you.

You couldn’t help the filthy squeaks that escaped your lips, the space of the van filled with your mewls and Eddie’s balls slapping against you.

He licks your neck before he bites hard onto your shoulder, his grunts filling the room as he plunges harder into you.

“Jesus fucking— mmpfh… just like that honey,” He murmurs into your neck, “My perfect fuckin’ girl.”

“Look so fuckin’ pretty when you’re all fucked out like this,” He nibbles on your neck, hands pinching your nipples. “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, baby,” He groans as he slams further inside of you.

“Edsedsedseds!” You repeat like a mantra, “What’d’ya need, peach?” He asks smugly.

“Jesus— n-need to cum!” You cry out and Eddie’s brain short-circuits for a moment, as you lay beneath him, plump lips making ‘Oh!’ sounds as your head is tilted back, and Eddie revels in it.

“Do it, honey. Cum for me,” He encourages.

“Need that tight little cunt to clamp down on me, peach,” He groans, and your whimpers get louder, you know you’re getting close and Eddie can feel how much you tighten around him.

“Shitshitshiiit— baby, this cunt is so fuckin’ greedy, and so fuckin’ tight,” He grunts. “All mine, angel.”

“’M close, Eds…” You barely blurt out in your fucked out state, and Eddie coos, “Cum for me, honey, c’mon cream my cock.”

He tilts his hips up further and hits your velvety walls so perfectly that almost has your eyes crossing.

Once his calloused fingers make their way onto your clit, rubbing slow circles and also giving your sensitive spot a pinch you cry out, trembling beneath him as you feel yourself release around his cock.

He lets out a loud grunt, “S’fuckin’ tight when you cum, shit— Gonna fuck my load into you, baby.”

“You want that? You want me to fill that pretty pussy, have you leakin’ my cum for days?” You nod weakly, still too fucked out to answer.

“Fuckfuckfuck— yeah, baby, gonna fill your tight little hole up, gonna give you all this cum,” He grunted.

“Would you like that honey? Shit—so fuckin’ tight, beg for it, beg for me, princess—” He almost growls into the curve of your neck, his hips slamming forward roughly, “Please—Eds, please, need your cum…” You make a mewling sound and Eddie can’t help himself, he’s pounding into you like a dog in heat and he knows he’s getting close now.

“Jesus—I’m gonna cum, honey. God—I’m gonna spend all of my load in this tight little cunt peach, it’s takin’ me so well, baby, I couldn’t pull out even if I wanted to, fuckfuckfuck—”

“Goin’ to fuck my load into you, baby, need to fill you up nice and sweet,” He cooes, mind boggling with the sight of your tits jiggling each time he slams harder into you, he knows he is rearing his orgasm with the way his hips stutter.

“Cum inside’a me, please,” You purr, eyes sultry as they meet Eddie’s, his grip on your hips tightens enough to leave a mark, your words sending a wave of pleasure to him as his movement is picked up.

“Mhmm, I love it when you fill me up s’warm and nice, and make me yours,” You murmured and that was it for Eddie.

His groans became uncontrollable now, and his eyes squeezed shut, he slammed into your body one last time, roughly, a string of curses spilled from his lips before his cock pulsated and his warm sticky load painted your insides, already spilling out of your tight cunt with how stuffed you were, falling down your thighs.

With a few “Fuckfuckfuck’s” Eddie collapsed on top of you, lips peppering your face softly as he wrapped an arm around you, murmuring, “You okay, baby?”

You nodded quickly, “Mhmm…” You relaxed into his warm body, “That fuckin’ punk really thought he could flirt with you, huh?” He chuckled; he was still possessive, bringing a dark smile to your lips.

“You know what you have to do to keep them away, don’t you?” You raised a brow, and he immediately knew what you were implying, but he wasn’t ready for any of it.

“Not this again,” He huffed, and you were quick to get out of his hold, you weren’t the type to push a guy around to make things exclusive, but with Eddie, you wanted nothing more than that, you didn’t even care about the teasing you would endure when the two of you made things official, but he certainly did, and it was starting to hurt you.

“Nevermind,” You murmured, searching for your clothes as Eddie got up, “Why are we in such a hurry?” He asked, tone worried. “We already skipped one class, I don’t wanna skip another one, doofus.” You narrowed your eyes at him before slipping on your skirt, sighing in relief when you found your panties discarded on the floor.

“You mad at me or somethin’?” You could tell how fragile he was acting around you, and it made your heart ache, but all of the secrets and running around were getting to you, the girls that were throwing themselves at Eddie as he flashed them a chuckle made your blood boil, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“No, it’s just super fucking tiring to act like you don’t exist, when you’re the only person I want in my life,” Your words come out faster than you mean to, and you look at him with such a hopeful gaze that Eddie’s heart tightens, the last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

“Honey…” He whispers, before pulling your body to his again, “You have no fuckin’ idea how much I want that to happen, but—”

“But, what?” Your voice is irritated.

“But you know how the guys are, you know how annoying Gareth—” You immediately scoff at the name.

You had no idea when or why it happened. You had no idea what caused him to act this way toward you. But Eddie’s friends absolutely hated you. Especially Gareth. Jeff also did not like the fact that you were the head cheerleader, but Gareth almost had a vendetta against you, you had barely interacted with him, but the boy was out to get you.

You were fine with the kids, Dustin and Mike had adored you the second you protected them against Carver’s idea of a joke. Lucas, with his new place on the basketball team, understood you, granted he had no idea of what was happening between you and Eddie, but he knew you were Eddie’s friend, and he knew how hard Eddie’s friends have been on you.

And that is exactly why you and Eddie had decided to keep your relationship a secret that started a few months ago.

Eddie had doubts about what people would say about your relationship, and he couldn’t handle the fact that his friends would have a say in it, he wanted to keep you away from them, as long as possible.

And he assumed your popular friends wouldn’t be so keen on him, either.

So you agreed to keep the relationship a secret, but it was eating away at you now.

“It’s about him again, isn’t it?” You asked, shaking your head with a chuckle. “Four months and you can’t even dare to say I’m your girlfriend, because of fucking Gareth,” You spat out.

“It’s not just about that—Jesus, you think your cheerleader and jock friends would fuckin’ enjoy havin’ the freak around?” His tone was louder now and you hated it.

“I don’t care! I don’t give the slightest fuck what they would think about my boyfriend, it’s my business and they don’t fucking get a say in it, Eddie!” Your insecurities were on the surface now, even if Eddie couldn’t tell, you were hurt by him wanting to hide you away this much, caring more about Gareth who had this twisted game of trying to hurt you, and it made you feel like absolute shit like Eddie could care less about you.

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that? I do! But Gareth—” You scoffed interrupting him as you turned around to face him. “Fuck him!” Your voice raised in fury.

“Look, Eddie, if you don’t want this—” Your hand was quick to point between the two of you, “Just say the fucking word.”

“You’re twistin’ my fuckin’ words around,” His voice didn’t hold the confidence it did before, his eyes were washed over with guilt and worry, he couldn’t afford to lose you, and if he kept being a jackass, it looked like he was going to.

“You’re unbelievable,” He scoffed, “I’m unbelievable?” You quoted him, eyes narrowing again.

Eddie was on his last straws and he knew it, but he couldn’t get himself to back down, he couldn’t let you see the vulnerable side of him this soon, there was no way you would be able to stay with him, not when you saw how fragile he actually was.

“Yeah! You fuckin’ are, acting all insane and shit just because you felt jealous over some stupid girls—” And he stops there because the exasperation of breath that slipped past your lips is so loud that he realizes what he just said.

“Fuck you,” You say it so ironically and humorously, that Eddie likes to think this is one of those ironic ‘Fuck you’s you had uttered to him before, slightly nudging his side as you gave him a warm smile, but you’re nothing but cold now.

“If you think that’s what this is about then I have nothing to say to you,” Your voice was timid before you made your way to the door, Eddie’s faint mumbles of your name were just dizzying your mind when you felt the hot tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

And with that, Eddie spent the rest of the day either sulking or using other people as his anger outlet, he knew it wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help it when you spent the rest of the day ignoring him, acting like he didn’t even exist, and it was killing him.

It got so much worse for him around lunchtime, his table was facing you, and his throat tightened, a lump forming at the fact that you didn’t even glance at him, not even turning your head toward his direction.

Eddie was fidgeting in his seat, he was itching to run over to your side, scream at the top of his lungs that you were his girlfriend, and kiss you, right in front of the entire school.

It was killing him, not being able to show you how much he fucking loved you. And his mind was now swirling with the idea that you finally realized how much of a loser he was, or that you finally realized how he didn’t deserve you, not in the slightest bit.

After one fucking conversation he had managed to push you away, and possibly manage to ruin one good fucking thing in his life, and he wanted to bang his head against the table while yelling out idiotidiotidiot!

Eddie knew he had to do something, as soon as possible, you were slipping away from his fingers, and he couldn’t handle losing you.

You were doing everything you can to avoid his gaze, no matter how much your head itched to cock in his direction.

Trying your best to stay unbothered as you attempted to laugh genuinely at the cheesy jokes Andy was providing the table with.

And Eddie’s blood was boiling, you seriously didn’t mean to make him jealous, but it didn’t matter to him, you were acknowledging everyone and specifically Andy right now but him, and it made Eddie’s jaw clench uncontrollably.

The banter going on at the table was unknown to him, but it made your skin crawl as if Gareth was saying some stupid shit about you again as if the entire table was mocking you, it was cruel, or at least it felt cruel to you.

That’s when your throat tightened up, your mind foggy as you could barely focus on anything but the chatter going on at Eddie’s table.

The cafeteria noises were pounding in your head now, jock’s table filled with the obnoxious laugh of Jason Carver, and you could even hear Robin blabbing something to Steve somewhere behind you. It was all a blur to you by now.

It surely had nothing to do with you but your mind and anxiety were enough to convince you that Gareth was making fun of you at the table. That little voice in your head there to tell you all the worst possibilities.

You barely noticed Eddie’s body burning off with rage when you were so focused on trying to hear what Gareth was saying, it shouldn’t have bothered you this much, but knowing how close he was to Eddie and how much he hated you… maybe it meant something.

Maybe Gareth knew that you were not good enough for Eddie, maybe you deserved it.

Maybe Gareth was right, maybe you were not right for Eddie, maybe he deserved to be with someone who liked his stupid D&D game, someone who didn’t conform, someone who wasn’t a coward, maybe someone who wasn’t a—

“Hey…”

“You okay?” Chrissy’s concerning voice caused your train of thought to disappear, at least pushing it back into your subconscious until you were ready to face your problems again.

“Mhmm,” You were quick to flash her with a smile, it wasn’t genuine and she probably knew it wasn’t genuine but, she stood silent as she didn’t want to put you on blast in front of everyone, giving you a tight-lipped smile and a reassuring squeeze in your arm, and you invited it in, cold demeanor changing within seconds.

And Eddie could sense it now, sitting across you, leaning in his chair like a storm isn’t brewing in his head, eyeing you carefully.

You slowly readjusted yourself, eyes quickly stealing a glance from Eddie’s table–but never at him.

And if he wasn’t watching he would’ve missed it, but he didn’t—hope inside of him blossoming like never before.

He was fidgeting to get out of his seat, run over to you, hands itching to hold you again, never to let go this time.

Your quick glance, instead of resulting in Eddie’s attention, brought Gareth’s unwarranted attention to you.

You felt uncomfortable in your seat now, you knew now your anxiety about him talking awfully about you to Eddie would be true now.

“She’s such a spoiled brat,” Gareth blurted out.

“Who are you talking about?” Jeff asked mindlessly, hands dipped into the fries he had been munching on.

“That stupid cheerleader,” Eddie’s head snapped at the mention of that, surely Gareth didn’t mean—Oh.

It was as if the rage building in within Eddie had snapped within seconds, thoughts in his head swirling, blaming Gareth for the fight.

“Watch it,” Eddie’s voice spoke before he turned his attention to Gareth, the table immediately quitening down.

“Excuse me?” Gareth questioned, taken aback, before Eddie cocked his head in his direction.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk about her,” His teeth were gritted, and your ears perked up at the rise in Eddie’s voice.

“The fuck are you on about?” Gareth replied back, the tension in the table was rising and Dustin was fidgeting im his seat by now.

“I’m telling you to keep your mouth shut when it comes to her, is that clear?” Eddie bounced from his seat, so quickly that he didn’t realize the entire cafeteria staring at him, including you.

Gareth gave him a confused chuckle, “I’m sorry?”

“Are you defending a cheerleader now or what? Have you forgotten how awful they have been to us?” He raised a brow.

“She didn’t do anything,” Eddie defended you like his life depended on it, he couldn’t believe how stupid he was being, for caring about Gareth’s half-witted input on you, like he ever actually had a conversation with you other than throwing insults to your way under his breath.

“So leave her alone,” It was more like a threat than anything else, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the scene, Eddie not noticing your gaze, blinded by the rage.

Eddie was barely hanging by a thread, the way he leaned over the table eyes bulging out as he stood over Gareth, everyone could sense it.

A loud whoo’s from the jock’s table caused you to huff, before you knew it, Jason Carver was involved.

“Trouble in paradise?” He shouted, followed by the obnoxious laughter of his followers, they called Eddie the leader of a satanic cult but by the looks of it, Jason and his stupid little jocks fit the description more.

“Oh, shut it, Carver,” Your mouth opened before your mind could process it, heads turned toward you and you were afraid to look back up now.

The laughter from Jason’s table had died down, and you could feel plenty of eyes on you, but what mattered the most, you could feel Eddie’s burning gaze on you, the storm in his mind calming down with your tone.

Before you knew it everyone went into something else, Chrissy was quick to start a conversation and you could see from the corner of your eye that Dustin had probably took on the same job, spewing nonsense until the tension deviated.

Eddie had slumped into his seat now, thighs spread wide open while his leg fidgeted, his anger had dissipated—eyes trained on you again, it was so obvious now, even Chrissy was nudging you.

The conversation at the table was no longer interesting, he didn’t even attempt to care if Gareth was okay, you stood up to him in front of the entire school, so mindlessly that Eddie felt like a coward.

Guilt ran through his veins quicker than it intended to, Eddie knew he has been acting like an idiot, but you had opened his eyes further.

He knew he had to talk to you.

And once he saw you leaving the cafeteria alone, he knew it was now or never.

He barely waited right after you left, ignoring the voices from the table calling out for him as he waved them off, mumbling incoherently about how he had to take care of something.

You stopped when you heard his weighted footsteps, jogging after you as he called your name.

You were afraid to turn around, afraid to ask him what had happened that made him lash out at Gareth like that.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words that slipped past his almost trembling lips, his honey-brown eyes mellow.

“I said some really stupid things I shouldn’t have said,” were the words that followed, you could tell he meant it, ragged breath escaping with each word, he was nervous.

Your heart tightened in your chest, unable to open your mouth, you stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“I—I don’t need you to say anything,” He breathed again, and it’s not like you could get any words out now, they all died down in your throat.

“I just need you to trust me,” He murmured, calloused hands coming in contact with your shoulders as he held you steady, your legs feeling like jelly when he looked at you like that.

“W—with what?” You didn’t mean to stutter, but you couldn’t help it when he was standing this close to you, it didn’t matter if you had been dating for the last four months, you could tell something in him had changed, with the way he held you in public, your mind getting excited about the possibilities.

“I’m gonna fix this,” He pointed between the two of you, almost mimicking you from before.

“I’ll pick you up at 7, does that sound okay?” He gave you a warm smile, teeth flashing and dimples forming on the right side of his cheek, making you giggle immediately.

“O–okay,” You didn’t mean to sound so excited–almost desperate, but you could feel your insides twist with hope with each of his words, breaking down the guards you spent building up all these years.

He gave you a sloppy kiss on your cheek, his smile never wearing off, “See you after school, yea?” You nodded quickly, heat rising up on your cheeks.

By the time Eddie picked you up by your house, your chest tightened, the whole ride was more silent than usual, the stereo Eddie usually blasted now stayed as a background noise as you fidgeted in your seat.

“Are you ever gonna tell me where we are going? Or at least what we’re gonna do?” You asked curiously, head cocking to his side.

“So impatient,” He mocked, hands drumming on the steering wheel before he flashed you a smile.

“We’re almost there,” He announced, and the roads were becoming all too familiar to you now.

“Are we going to the trailer?” You asked excitedly, and Eddie threw you a look.

“You do know what surprises mean, don’t you?” He raised his brows and flashed a teasing smile, his eyes dancing with amusement.

You huffed playfully, crossing your arms against your chest.

“You do realize how cute you look when you get all mad like that?”

"Oh, stop it," you stammered, covering your face slightly with your hands, attempting to hide your embarrassment and the smile that threatened to betray you.

Eddie flashed a toothy-grin, dimples ever so present, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him, even if you wanted to.

Gaze lingered on his features longingly, as if trying to capture every detail in your memory. “Thank you for today,” He murmured, almost embarrassed, looking out on the road as his hands got clammy on the steering wheel.

You know exactly what he was thanking you for, but you still threw him a puzzled look.

“For standing up to Carver like that,” He adds, clearing his throat,

“I doubt you realize it Eddie but—”

“I think I’d pretty much do anything for you,” The words blurted out before you could process them, brain jumbled from everything that happened today.

A soft smile curved his lips as he watched you, eyes tracing every contour of your face with awe.

The rest of the ride was silent, as you kept your promise to not spoil the surprise, mind filled with various ideas as Eddie finally pulled up to his trailer.

"So... will you tell me the surprise now?" You asked, smile etching on your face as Eddie gave you a breathy laugh.

"Such an impatient baby, huh?" He mocked, nudging your shoulder playfully, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

As you caught up to him, he couldn't help but reach out to brush your hand with his fingertips, a subtle gesture of affection.

When he finally intertwined them, your heart raced, possibilities of whatever the surprise was overwhelming you as your palms grew sweaty with anxiety when you faced the daunting door to Eddie's trailer.

Eddie's fingers gripped the doorknob tightly, with a twist of the key in his hands, the lock mechanism turned, and he pushed the door open, revealing loud chattering coming from the room.

You got startled when Eddie fully opened the door, almost squealing when you saw all of the Hellfire Club squeezed into the living room, your eyes widening at Eddie's surprise.

It was silent before Gareth spoke up, “What kind of a sick joke is this supposed to be?” He chuckled bitterly, Eddie felt hot-blooded again.

“Is this why you defended her during lunch?” He chuckled, and your eyes widened at the revelation—so, that's why Eddie lashed out at lunch.

"Unfuckinbelievable," Gareth scoffed.

Eddie's jaw tightened, the muscles flexing with the strain of suppressing the overwhelming urge to lash out. “What the hell are you doing? Please tell me this is a new joke of yours called ‘I’m fucking the spoiled brat cheerleader to spite the jocks’.” Gareth spoke up, and turned around to Jeff and others for approval, but the rest of the guys just stood silent, he had crossed the line and everyone could sense it.

Your face soured at his comment, and you could feel Eddie’s grip on your hand tightened, he was getting fired up. “Goodbye, Gareth.” Eddie spoke calmly, much to your and everyone else’s surprise. Every movement he made was rigid, calculated, as if trying to contain the tempest of rage threatening to consume him.

Gareth turned to Eddie baffled, “What?” He scoffed, and Eddie gave a breathy chuckle before straightening up to collect himself. “Get out of my house.” Eddie spat with rage inside of him.

“You have a problem with, her, you leave.” You looked up at him softly as you gently squeezed his hand to let him know that it was okay, he didn’t need to make a scene, and he softened with your touch.

“Actually, if you have a problem with Y/N, you’re pretty much dead to me so just like…” He mocked a thinking face, “Evaporate or something, I don’t know.” A sarcastic smirk was plastered onto his lips now.

Everyone stood silent, causing Eddie to huff.

“That’s kind of a general invitation, if you don’t like my girlfriend then… just start heading toward the rectangle with the knob.” A wide smile spread across your face at him calling you 'his girlfriend', you leaned towards him almost, eager to soak in every word.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” Gareth spat out, Eddie rolled his tongue inside of his cheek at the comment, it looked like Gareth wasn't just going to go away silently, and Eddie wasn't sure if he could hold off the storm brewing inside of him if Gareth dared to talk about you again.

“Selling off your friends for a cheer slut—”

THUMP!

The sound that resonated in your ears before Gareth laid on the ground beneath you, it happened all so fast, Eddie's veins pulsating with the surging rage before his fists collided with Gareth's cheek.

Your mouth hung open, words trapped in your throat as your voice failed you in the face of disbelief.

Eddie cowered over him, the rest of the guys standing in shock as they tried to hold him back, they didn't need to, Eddie was done with Gareth.

“I told you to not fuckin' speak about her, was that not clear?” He spat out his words with seething anger. Gareth looked back at him with a groan.

“Then let this be a lesson for you.” He sneered.

It was all blurry, Gareth still groaning and mumbling under his breath as he left without a goodbye, the rest of the guys apologizing as they took care of Gareth, congratulating the two of you before he left to probably get that poor boy some ice.

“Well... I'd say that went pretty well?” A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, and you giggled at Eddie's inability to defuse the tension in the room.

“'M so sorry...” You straightened your posture, lifting your head to meet Eddie's soft gaze.

“Are you kidding?” He asked, eyes glinting with admiration.

“I don't care about him,” He scoffed.

“He doesn't fucking get to talk about you like that, and he doesn't deserve to be in my life,” His firm stance and unwavering eye contact were signaling you that he meant every word he was saying, he got sick of Gareth's shit, that's why this had happened, not because of you.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, honey,” He muttered, pressing soft kisses into your hair, he was trying to relieve you of your guilt, telling you that this was all on Gareth.

He leaned slightly forward, subtly closing the distance between you and him. “Now see,” He muttered, “Why can't it just be like this?” He couldn't help but reach out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender as his fingers ached to touch you.

“Why do other people in the world have to exist, huh?” Every time he spoke to you, his voice took on a softer, almost more mellow tone, as if he was savoring the words to speak to you on his lips.

Your head tilted slightly with a giggle, eager to absorb every word he uttered. Each touch, each gaze you shared, sent an unwavering contentment through his entire being, more than you realized.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagines #stranger things #stranger things imagines #eddie munson x taylor swift #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

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loveforquanrui · 3 months

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hii!! can i please req how zb1 would act when you sleep on the couch after an argument 💓

hi nonnie!! sorry i took a while to get to your request school was starting so my attention was on that! but here you go I hope you like it. also i didn't feel comfortable writing yujin since I wrote this in the sense of ZB1 being in romantic relationships so I did not want to include yujin.

-Jiwoong-

if that's what you want he would understand

he would be so sad though :((

he wouldn't annoy you by begging you to go back to bed

instead he stays up all night hoping you're gonna go back to him

but no you are stubborn and strong willed so you sleep on the couch

when you wake up to your surprise he is fast asleep next to you

-Hanbin-

oh hanbin :')

the moment you said you would sleep on the couch, hanbin was ALERT

he would not even let you make contact with the couch

"please let's just talk it out"

in the case that you don't want to talk to him though..

he would just hold your hand all night until you talk to him

and then he would talk through the argument and try to find a solution right away

hanbin just doesn't want you to go to sleep feeling sad or angry :(

so ofc our little hamster is going to do anything to make you feel better and to make up for the argument

-Hao-

Hao is an introvert

his first instinct is to give you space, since it's what he would want

so he would go to your shared bedroom thinking you would join him later

but when night time hit and you still weren't there he got worried

despite his begging you were adamant that you would sleep on the couch

so while you went to shower, he prepared anything you may need

blankets? check. comfy slippers? check?

but before you could even see him prepare all that for you

as quickly as he set that up, he quickly left to your shared bedroom

once you were fast asleep

hao would occasionally wake up to go check up on you

yes he understands that you're upset but that doesn't mean he's gonna stop being the amazing boyfriend he is

-Matthew-

the way this man would feel SO BAD (queue stayc)

the idea that you rather sleep on the uncomfy couch instead of the comfy bed in his arms..

yeah that was enough for him to run to you and apologize

matthew is sooo persistent

he would be apologizing all night and try to convince you to go back to bed

when you don't budge and are set on staying on the uncomfy couch

he takes matters into his own hand ;)

after an hour he has enough and flings you over his shoulder, takes you to the big bed, tucks you in and gives you a longing kiss

after doing so he is off the sleep in the couch

FORGIVE HIM PLS :(

-Taerae-

the way this man is so stubborn and petty

his pride is HIGH

he wouldn't even bat an eye when he sees you sleeping on the couch (BRO IS THAT PETTY)

he goes to bed in your shared bedroom not caring and giving you the cold shoulder

until 2 hours pass and he starts missing your warmth

that's when he gets up and looks at your sleeping figure from the hallway

he just stands there and contemplates whether he should wake you up

he does.

"i can't sleep please come back. im sorry i promise i won't do it again"

-Ricky-

this man is lucky he has such a face

at first he wouldn't tell you anything, his stare seems cold and blank when he sees you

he doesn't care, atleast on the outside

on the inside we know Ricky is literally crying

it hurts him so much seeing you rather be on the couch instead of with him

he lets you be and you fall asleep on the couch

to your surprise though when you wake up, you're met with the familiar morning light and the familiar blankets hugging your body

throughout the night, ricky watched until you fell asleep and when you he knew you were out, he carried you back to bed and slept next to you

when you turn around to see if ricky is in his usual spot, instead of your boyfriend you see a note

"im sorry please forgive me come to the kitchen"

when you get up and get to the kitchen you see multiple gifts and breakfast on the counter

a shy ricky holding the back of his neck saying "good morning"

-Gyuvin-

if you left the couch expecting to be alone, you are wrong.

the moment you leave to the couch, he is trailing behind you

gyuvin loves you too much he wouldn't let you be alone

lets alone would he let you go to sleep angry and alone

despite you not talking to him and giving him the cold shoulder

this man is cuddling up to you saying...

"i know you're upset but I love you and I don't want you feel like I don't"

you both end up making up but still sleep on the couch cuddled up together

when you wake up, gyuvin delivers breakfast in bed (the couch)

all day he is doing some sweet acts of service (THIS MAN IS SORRY FOR WHAT HE DID)

-Gunwook-

gunwook like hanbin would not let you fall asleep on the couch when you are upset

he understands what you are feeling and he wants you to know that

he insists that you guys fix the argument

when you refuse to (cause sometimes we be petty like that)

gunwookie sits on the floor next to the couch, holding your hand until you are willing to talk

when you can't take it anymore (he literally will not let go) you decide to give in and talk about the argument

you both talk and both apologize and come to an understanding

after communicating the problem you guys go to your shared bedroom holding each other

guys gunwook would be such an amazing boyfi

#zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 imagines #zb1 reactions #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone reactions #kim gyuvin #zhang hao #gyuvin #ricky #shen ricky #han yujin #seok matthew #kim taerae #sung hanbin #kim jiwoong #park gunwook

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jishyucks · 5 months

Text

Candy Cane Delays — lmk

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, classmates au

‣ wc: 3k

‣ summary: Sure, it was disheartening seeing everyone receive a holiday candy gram but you, especially when you’re the one in charge of selling them at lunch. But don't worry, yours is on the way. He’s just… running a bit late.

‣ warnings: nothing i think,, reader’s kinda annoying about not getting a holiday candy gram but honestly same

‣ an: first part of my True Love Gave to Me Series YAY! Hopefully my writing’s good enough and this is somewhat cute bc I thought the idea was adorable,,, it honestly would’ve been longer and more detailed if I didn’t have 11 other mini fics to write but PLS ENJOYYY

Series Masterlist

Every year for the past 3 years, you've been in charge of selling the holiday candy grams for the winter dance.

And every year for those same 3 years, you’ve never, not even once, received a single candy gram.

Sure, your best friend Yeri always offered to get you one for fun, but you told her off, cause in your mind it didn’t count when they tell you they’ll be getting you one. You wanted to receive one the good ‘ol traditional way—you wanted to be surprised.

But whatever you wished, you never received.

And that was okay.

Because there came a point where you accepted the fact that you would probably never get one. It was a bit depressing (and maybe a tad embarrassing), but you simply chose to never get your hopes up every year just to be let down at the end. And though it was initially pretty easy ignoring this conclusion, it simply did not help that you were always put in charge of selling the damn grams.

Every lunch period, you sit behind a table, a poster board with the words ‘PURCHASE YOUR HOLIDAY CANDY GRAMS FOR WINTER DANCE HERE!’ taped at its edge. You wait for students to approach you with pocket money, then you slide them as many candy grams as they pay for. Once they’ve finished filling out the slips of paper, you take the sheets back and begin preparing them by taping candy canes the school bought from the local dollar store.

It was a routine you have gotten used to, and you don't expect to see any changes happening any time soon.

“Can I have three, please?”

You look up from your pile of candy canes to see your classmate, Jaemin, who’s blinking back at you with a wide smile. You nod and hold your hand out for him to drop his coins in. They land with a muted clunk noise before you drop them into the big metal bank you had pushed to the side.

“Here you go,” you grin back, sliding three slips of paper toward the boy. He thanks you before turning to a nearby table and you’re left to turn back to the unfinished candy grams sitting in front of you.

The time that lights up on the screen on your phone tells you that you need to start cleaning up soon so that you’re able to drop the candy grams off to the students distributing them for the day. Relief washes over you as you complete the remaining grams, just in time for Jaemin to return, gripping folded slips of paper in his fingers.

“Thank you,” Jaemin says, handing them to you, “I’ll see you in class, Y/N!”

“See you, Jaemin,” you reply. And you quickly finish the last three before you start cleaning up.

You place the empty candy grams on top of the earned money before locking the box. When you stand up, the chair makes an unpleasant noise against the floor and you cringe slightly. Rounding the table, you move the chair along with you, placing it on top and upside down for tomorrow’s use.

“Am I too late?”

Another person's sudden presence startles you, making you realize that you've been too absorbed in your tasks to notice the approaching footsteps.

You turn to friend and classmate, Mark, who’s out of breath and sweating from practically every gland of his body. He’s bent over with his hands on his knees and he’s trying to catch his breath. His glasses are slipping down the bridge of nose, but he quickly catches it with the tip of his index finger.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “Ah, Mark… you’re late…” You pick up the bag of candy canes and sigh, “Again.”

A sense of déjà vu washes over you. This exact occurrence has been happening for a week straight now and you’re trying to figure out how Mark even manages to pull the same thing each day. It was actually kind of cute, if you had to admit just once, and you’re admittedly curious as to what’s causing him to pull up to the table 30 seconds late.

“I think my phone’s clock is three minutes too fast,” Mark frowns, eyes round as he brings his phone’s screen up to his face.

You start walking down the hall and toward Mrs. Kim’s room, where everything was kept between days, “You do know that the clocks on our phones can’t be early, right?”

Mark nods, though you don’t see. He’s still trailing right behind you, even into the classroom, “I know, but I just needed to blame something.”

You two approach a closet at the corner of the classroom and you use a key to open it up. You place the things inside, making sure it’s neat and tidy and somewhere slightly hidden in case students decide to break in. You don’t mind Mark seeing where you hide it, though. You trust him.

The boy gulps before he goes to ask you a question, “Hey, for the Winter Dance—”

“How were the sales today, Y/N?”

Mark is interrupted by Mrs. Kim, who’s returning from her own lunch break. She glances at Mark and greets him at the same time.

“I think today had the most sales so far,” you reply, “So it went well! Do you want me to leave the finished grams here? I already organized them by class.” Shutting the door, you lock the closet.

Mrs. Kim nods and makes room on her desk for the bag, “Yes please. Chenle and Jisung are coming in a bit to pick them up. Thanks for your help, Y/N.”

You bow your head and offer a smile before you turn to leave, Mark following not too far behind.

“What were you saying?” You look up at him, slowing your pace.

“Hm?” Mark’s head crooks to the side, “When?” Did he accidentally say something out loud?

“Before Mrs. Kim came in. You were saying something but I didn’t catch it.”

Mark’s heart skips a beat and his eyes widen. Lucky for him, you don’t notice, eyes dead set on your guys’ classroom, “Oh… uh–I forgot.” Mark knows damn well what he wanted to ask you. But the confidence he had built up at that moment dies along with his words and he figures that he’ll just try again another day. He tries his best to play it off, throwing in a sheepish laugh to spice it up, “But if it comes up again, I’ll make sure to say it.”

“You’re young and you’re already forgetful,” you joke, rolling your eyes playfully, “But okay, fine by me.” You turn to sit at your desk, seeing that Yeri’s already at her’s, but you stop yourself and turn back to Mark, “Are you going to be late tomorrow, again?”

Mark feels his cheeks heat up and his head lowers in embarrassment, “I’ll try not to.”

You let out a snort and nod, this time actually heading to your seat.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

When Chenle and Jisung come around to hand out the candy grams, students around you perk up in anticipation of receiving one. Yeri nudges your arm when the boys start passing them out, plopping the very same candy grams you finished at lunch.

“Brighten up, you might get one today,” she whispers. Her eyes follow Chenle, who’s approaching the both of you.

“I know I’m not getting one, Yers,” you shake your head, “I made them.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you can’t get one,” she groans, “Maybe you’re not getting one because you’re being a Negative Nancy.”

“Please never say that again,” you narrow your eyes at her.

And when Chenle and Jisung start making their way toward the door and your desk is still empty, you turn to give Yeri a I told you so look.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Mark’s leg bounces out of anticipation as his eyes wander off to the clock hanging crookedly at the other corner of the room. He has 5 minutes to get up and leave and make it to the candy gram booth. But with the way Renjun was going on and on about an excerpt he had written for this week’s writing club meeting, Mark feels like he’s barely going to make it again.

For some reason, the hormones in his body are causing his heart to knock against his chest repeatedly. He can hear it pounding in his ears, practically drowning out Renjun’s voice.

Sure buying those candy grams didn’t seem like that big of a deal to anyone else in the group, but to Mark, it was part of a plan he’s had written down in the notes app of his phone since November—asking you out to the winter dance through a gram. Mark knows that he can’t trust himself when it comes to verbally asking you. So a candy gram should do it (yes, he’s aware that’s a little bit dumb but it’s the thought that counts).

The second that Renjun concludes his piece, Mark is up and out of the room, putting his chair in its rightful place behind a desk. He’s practically sprinting down the hall, slowing down into a walking pace when he passes by doors just so he wouldn’t be stopped and delayed for longer if a teacher had caught him running down the hall like some delinquent.

He can see the intersection of the hallway where you always set the table up and he books it, the single strap of his backpack hanging on for dear life.

“Am I late?”

Mark stands in front of you, hands on his knees and he’s panting. It was the same exact scene as yesterday. “Please tell me I’m not.”

You frown, glancing at the table you had just pushed up against the wall, “Sorry, Mark.”

He groans, “I need to start leaving earlier.” Mark begins to trail you from behind, feet heavy from missing the candy grams yet again.

“If it makes you feel any better, you have one more week,” you point out. Your arms wrap around the piggy bank and the coins jingle inside. Today was particularly more busy than the previous days. You question, “What do you even do over lunch?”

“I have clubs I go to,” Mark chews on his bottom lip, “It’s kind of stupid—”

“It’s not stupid if you enjoy it,” you shrug. He watches as you tuck the piggy bank and the extra candy canes at the back of the closet before shutting it, “And if you’re always running late you must actually enjoy them.”

“I guess so,” Mark says quietly. “I’ll come in time tomorrow.” He says this more for himself than for you.

You laugh, “We’ll see, Mark Lee.” Looking down at the bag of candy canes, you pull one out and hold it out to him, halting just outside of Mrs. Kim’s room, “I’ll give you one for free~”

Mark stops and blinks at the candy cane in your hand and he sighs. The candy canes weren’t even the reason why he desperately wanted to buy the grams. He can quite literally drop by the store on the way home and get a pack himself if he wanted.

Mark simply just wanted to get this plan done and over with. He wants to know if you’re going to reject him or if you’re going to say yes. But because this was being drawn out like some imperfect line across a ridiculously long page, he’s not going to know until he gets his hands on one of the candy grams.

But still, Mark lets himself smile at the gesture, hand grazing yours as he takes it, “Thanks, Y/N.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

For the next week, Mark (unsurprisingly) arrives late. He catches you either already cleaning the table up or already walking down to Mrs. Kim’s classroom to store the things. And everytime he does come late, Mark wants to beat himself up for it.

But on the last day, you’re caught by surprise when Mark approaches you in the middle of setting up the booth. For once he isn’t out of breath, and he’s not sweating and hunched over. It was a refreshing sight—amusing, even. The effort this boy was putting into holiday candy grams was endearing and you hope that the people he’s sending his grams to know it.

“First one here,” you giggle, “How many do you want?”

“Seven,” Mark shoots, “Please.”

“Seven’s a lot,” You nod, sliding the seven slips of paper before you retrieve the money from him, “Do you know what to do?”

“Um… just got a lot of people I care about,” Mark retorts. He grabs the slips of paper, a sigh of relief slipping out of his lips, “Thank you.”

Mark disappears for a good while, though you can see him bent over a table across the hall, scribbling into the blanks like he was supposed to. He looked rather focused, mouthing the small messages he’s leaving on the candy grams. A small part of you is nosy, wanting to know who he’s sending these candy grams to and what messages he’s writing so intently.

Once he’s finished, Mark returns to the table, placing the candy grams on the table in front of you, “Thanks, Y/N… I can’t talk right now—I do want to catch up with my club—but I’ll talk to you later?”

You smile gently, taking the filled out candy grams, “Of course. I’m just glad you were able to actually get these today.”

“Believe me, I am too,” Mark sends a warm smile before he bids you goodbye.

You huff and begin prepping the 7 candy canes for Mark’s seven candy grams. You go ahead and rip 7, inch-long, pieces of tape for each one and start your routine, taping each candy cane to each sheet of paper.

“Last one,” you mutter to yourself, taking the 7th candy cane between your fingertips.

When you go to grab the last slip of paper, you’re sent into a brief state of confusion when you don’t actually find a seventh slip. Your brows furrow and you let out an audible ‘huh?’ as you try to search your proximity for that last candy gram.

Did you miscount? Or did Mark just not use it? He could have gotten a refund if he wasn’t going to use it… Why didn’t he tell you anything?

After thinking hard on it, you let the problem go for now, making a small reminder to yourself to ask Mark about it later.

Chenle and Jisung come to your guys’ class just before the day ends and you would be lying if you said that you had just the slightest bit of hope that you’d receive one since it was the last day—cause surely, for the entire two weeks you’ve been out at lunch selling that damn things, you’d get one, right?

Sometimes, anticipation was a bitch. It was killing you watching Chenle and Jisung pull out each one from their shared bag, searching the room for the person receiving a damn gram before scurrying down the aisle of desks and plopping it down gently. With each one they would quietly say a ‘for you’ before turning back to the bag to grab the next one.

Hope was a bitch, too.

“Once again, sorry for interrupting,” Chenle apologizes to your teacher before dragging Jisung out of the room.

Just as they slip out of the classroom, the bell rings and you don’t find the energy to stand up just yet, eyes staring blankly at your empty desk.

“You should have just let me get you one, Y/N,” Yeri frowns, rubbing the middle of your back for comfort. She knows exactly how you’re feeling right now, “Want me to treat you to ice cream later? Bubble tea? Anything?”

You shake your head and try to prop a smile on your face, “No, it’s fine, Yers. I just thought that…” Mark. “Nevermind… Let’s just go.”

You finally push yourself up from your desk and grab your belongings. You leave the room in a hurry, Yeri struggling to keep up with your quick movements.

From afar, right by your locker, you spot Mark standing there patiently with his hands buried deep into his pockets. And with the boring class you had just had and not receiving a candy gram yet again, you almost forgot that you had to ask Mark about the 7th gram—better yet—he was probably at your locker to tell you about it.

“Mark,” you greet. Your fingers start fiddling with your lock as you absentmindedly put in your combination, “I wanted to talk to you about the candy grams.”

“I was actually here for the same reason.” There’s a tone in Mark’s voice that catches you off guard. There’s a slight hint of uneasiness, “Um… and…”

“And?” Now he’s caught your attention. You don’t realize that Yeri’s standing by her own locker, trying to subtly listen in on the conversation.

“Wait–uh–let me start with the candy gram first because then it can play out, I guess?” Mark shakes his head at how awkward he’s being before pulling out that 7th slip of paper from his pocket, “I…” He goes to read it, taking in a deep breath, eyes scanning it before he hurriedly sticks it out to you, “I was supposed to hand this in earlier at lunch but I figured that since you, you know, were the one doing the candy grams, I didn’t want you seeing it at such an awkward time?”

You’re frozen in place, gently taking the candy gram. With your heart skipping beats and the butterflies suddenly erupting in your stomach, your eyes bulge out of your eyes as you read your name on the sheet in Mark’s handwriting. This was a candy gram for you. To you, From Mark. Your first ever candy gram and it was from Mark.

Your attention flies straight to the note in the given space beneath the To and the From.

Your heart skips another beat.

Winter Dance with me?

“I-I’m sorry there’s no candy cane with it or anything and I don’t have any chocolates or some present to give you and this is such a lame way to ask you to the dance I meant it to be a bit more romantic than this but—”

You cut off Mark’s rambling, “Yes.”

“W-what?”

“Yes, I’ll go to the dance with you.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @dinonuguaegi @niinjo (couldn't tag :(()

an: first part of my series YAY ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ meant to post it earlier but school and duties call rip,, i hope you enjoyed this! pls leave a like or rb if you enjoyed it and i wanna hear your thoughts on this;; it was the first one I wrote for this so I'm not sure if it's cute :( anyways THANKS FOR READING!

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loveywon · 1 year

Text

♡𓂃 START NOW !

part 2 is out!

pairing: jungwon x (gn)reader wc: 3.3k synopsis: you and jungwon never really got along, but one morning you're in bed with him and you both don't recognize the room that you're in. warnings: fluff, there's a baby, angst if you squint idk, not proofread, riki n sunghoon mentioned, you n jungwon are seniors in high school! a/n: my first fic on here...NERVOUS.....IM LAZY TO PROOFREAD......pls enjoy though !!!(≧∀≦)

“Anyone who has to endure waking up next to you every morning is definitely receiving karma for something bad they did,” you rolled your eyes at Jungwon who is currently looking at you with squinted eyes and a scowl on his face.

That's the last thing you said to him before leaving school and going back home to only fight with him again the next morning. Except, you didn’t wake up in your usual bed and you didn’t hear your usual blaring alarm off the next morning. Instead, you actually feel a little hot. You don’t remember putting an extra blanket on you before going to bed last night, but you still felt an extra weight and heat radiating around you.

You blink twice, eyes still puffy from sleep as you roll over onto your side to get out of bed, but before you could actually even move your legs, a force pulled you closer to the center of the bed. You suppressed a scream. What if it was a serial killer? What if Jungwon had enough and decided to hire a hitman to kill you?! Millions of thoughts began to run through your head, but you snapped out of it when you heard a grumble from behind you. You gulped, deciding whether or not your best option was to just lay still until your potential killer got tired of waiting or if you should grab your lamppost from your bedside table and whack the person with it.

You got this, y/n! You slowly reach for the lamp, your left hand reaching out slowly to unplug the lamp as quietly as possible. With the blinds slightly cracked open from the window, something on your left finger shined in the light and you paused from almost being potentially blinded, but also because you never wore any jewelry? You quickly looked at your hand, and saw a fat, bright diamond staring right back at you on your ring finger.

In the state of shock you were in, you quickly turned around to what could be your potential killer in bed with you, but to add onto your surprise even more (honestly how did you not get a stroke?), there laid Jungwon himself, face half buried into the pillow and an arm loosely wrapped around your waist.

“What the fuck…” you whispered, eyes darting between your ring and Jungwon. You quickly got out of Jungwon’s arms and got on your feet, starting to pace around from stress. You didn’t even recognize the place you were in, everything was decorated so nicely, but so different from your house that you were literally in last night. You quickly peeked through the blinds, seeing that you were in a very suburban neighborhood that you did not recognize. You stopped pacing after getting nowhere, turning to look at Jungwon’s sleeping state. He mumbled something in his sleep, his arm subconsciously moving around the bed where you were previously laying on. This caused him to blink his eyes open and lift his head off the pillow after not finding you in bed with him.

“Good morning, princess. You had a good sleep? Oh me too, now do you please mind telling me where the fuck are we!?” You exclaimed, walking back to the edge of the bed to greet a sleepy Jungwon.

“What.. what are you doing here in my house?” Jungwon muttered, not really wanting to fight with you in the bright and early morning. He failed to process that he is in fact, not in his own home anymore.

“This is your house? If I remember correctly, last time when Riki invited me over to yours for the party, your house did not look like this. And I highly doubt that your house would have frilly curtains like this. Your curtains were literally blue last time I was there,” you sighed, clearly frustrated with the fact that Jungwon seemingly did not know where they were.

He slowly sat up in the bed, rubbing his eyes in an adorable manner (you would rather barf every day than admit this) as he took in his surroundings. His brows furrowed as he did so, realizing that you were right (he would rather smell Riki’s feet than admit this). “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh!” your tone dripping in sarcasm as you started to pace around the bedroom again. You spot a vanity in the corner of the room, and you decide to look through the drawers for maybe something. You didn’t know what you were looking for, but literally anything! Something!

As you get to the vanity, you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Um…Jungwon…come here…”

He was still taking in his surroundings, rolling his eyes as he groggily got out of bed and trudged towards you. He bends down to look at the mirror, eyes widening at the sight before him.

Both of you looked much more mature than you did last night, your hair was a lighter color and Jungwon’s (handsome) facial features were much more fitting in his face.

“What. Why do we look like this??” Jungwon’s hands flew to his face, touching his cheek as he poked himself while looking at the mirror. “This is some serious sick joke, it has to be! I’m gonna call Sunghoon. It was probably his doing,” He rushed to grab his phone from the bedside table, only to find that his phone was a completely different model and much thinner than his original phone. He ignores it, opening his contacts to call up Sunghoon.

“I’ll call Riki, this seems like something he would also do,” you mumble more to yourself as you grab your phone as well, which is the same as Jungwon’s; much thinner than your actual phone.

Both of you dial up Sunghoon and Riki, holding up your phones to your ears. You bite on your lip absentmindedly as the phone rang and Jungwon tapped his foot impatiently on the carpeted floor.

“Sunghoon!”

“Riki!”

“Hey, um, you can take us back home now…this house is kinda starting to creep me out. The prank is over, right? Y/n is getting on my nerves,” Jungwon mumbled the last part into the phone, taking a slight peek at you. You return his look, sharp pointed eyes glaring at him since you heard his last sentence.

“Stop with this prank, seriously Riki! I think I might make Jungwon bald faster than he already is if I’m stuck here any longer!” You spoke into the phone, not bothering to keep your words shushed. You wanted him to hear it.

Jungwon merely rolled his eyes at your words, choosing to be the “bigger” person, as if he didn’t just say that you were getting on his nerves earlier.

Over the phone, Sunghoon spoke, “What prank? I literally dropped you guys off at home last night, what are you talking about? Also I thought after you and Y/n got married, you would stop with your silly bickering. Ah, you guys are so cute.”

Jungwon swore his eye twitched at Sunghoon’s words.

“Hi Y/n! I don’t know what prank you’re talking about, I swear! Whatever it is, it’s not me this time! Maybe it was Sunghoon, didn’t he see you guys last night? And you’re still bullying Jungwon after all these years? I thought we left that at high school!” Riki chuckled through the phone.

You swore your eye twitched.

You both hung up after saying your goodbyes, deeming them as useless. You and Jungwon turn back to each other from opposite ends of the bed.

“It’s not Sunghoon.”

“It’s not Riki.”

You opened your mouth again to start panicking, however, a spine chilling cry came from across the hall, through the closed door of the bedroom you and Jungwon were in. The both of you furrowed your brows in confusion. It sounded like a baby’s cry, and last time the both of you checked, you guys didn’t have any younger siblings.

You hesitated to check out where the crying was coming from, but the ever so (annoying) brave Jungwon didn’t think twice to leave the bedroom and open the door across the hall. You quickly follow behind, not wanting to be left alone in the foreign bedroom. You peek from behind his shoulder, only to find a baby crying in their cradle, flailing their arms around as they sob loudly.

“Oh my god, I think I’m gonna puke,” you say exaggeratedly. Truth be told, the baby was cute, but you were never a person that experienced baby fever.

Jungwon rolled his eyes at you before walking towards the cradle, shushing the baby quietly as he took it into his arms and started to rock it back and forth in his arms as if it was second nature. The baby surprisingly didn’t cry louder when Jungwon picked it up, which showed on Jungwon’s facial features as he continued to shush the baby. You watched silently, a slight pout unknowingly forming on your lips before Jungwon spoke.

“I think she’s hungry. Can you get me the baby bottle behind you and make the milk?” He asked quietly, not wanting to scare the baby since the baby doesn’t know him.

“Oh, uh, yeah…” you replied, turning around to the table behind you. You grabbed the baby bottle and twisted the cap open, but didn’t make a move to do anything else. You stared at the machine. It looked like an espresso machine, but you didn’t exactly know how to work it. You start to press a few buttons, however, none were successful.

Jungwon sighed, “You have no idea how to make baby milk do you?” He stated more than questioned before he walked towards you and gestured to you to take the baby out of his arms so that he could make the milk.

You stared at him. He wanted you to hold a baby? You considered yourself to never be trusted with a baby. “Um, I…” You started, forming excuses that were on the tip of your tongue but Jungwon stopped you before you could say anything.

“Just hold her. It’s not the end of the world.”

You bit on your inner cheek, grabbing the baby from his arms and started to cradle her with it. Hey! It was easier than you thought, like you had done this before (you haven’t, your parents never let you near your baby cousins).

You stared at the baby as Jungwon started to mix the baby milk formula, studying her features. She was actually a lot cuter up close, and before you even noticed, a small smile started forming on your features and the baby soon stopped crying and giggled upon seeing your smile.

Jungwon abruptly turned around, scared that you did something to the baby since she had stopped crying. “What did you d-” He asked hurriedly, but stopped himself when he saw you admiring the baby.

When you weren’t telling him that he was balding, he always thought you were pretty. This was the closest he’s been next to you when seeing you smile. Everytime he did see you smile, it was always from across the lunchroom at school, or on the other side of the class you two shared together.

Catching himself staring, he quickly turned back around to attend the milk, but his own little smile graced his face as well.

“Mama!” The baby babbled, small hands reaching out to touch your hair. You swore you almost dropped the baby on the floor, eyes almost popping out of your head as your jaw went agape.

Jungwon halted his movements as well, about to pour the milk formula into the baby bottle. He slowly turned around, the baby bottle still in hand but only half filled.

“What did she just say.” You and Jungwon said flatly in unison.

After putting the baby back in the cradle and properly giving her the milk, you and Jungwon both left the baby room and sat on a bench that was in the hallway.

It was silent after a while, neither of you guys knowing what to say or think.

“Okay…realistically, that is probably someone else’s baby, right? And she’s still young, so she probably just thought that you were her mother…” Jungwon said after some time, his hands running through his hair as he stressed about their current situation.

“Yeah, but,” you hesitated to say what you were thinking, looking at the door that led to the baby’s room.

“What? Say it. We only have each other right now. I don’t know where we are, and if Sunghoon and Riki insist that this is our house, they are either very, incredibly serious, or they are stretching out this prank. But I don’t think either would go as far as to use a real baby for a prank…right?” Jungwon started to ramble before realizing it.

“She looked like you.”

His head turned to look at you, but you were still facing the baby’s door. “What are you talking about?” He said suspiciously, for once hesitating to ask you about something. He’s never been scared of you - he thinks he never will be. At first, when you two first crossed paths in freshman year of high school, he didn’t think you were scary. Maybe intimidating, but not scary. He doesn’t even remember your first interaction, if he was being honest. He likes to think his first interaction with you was when you both were helping out Yearbook with taking photos of the dance and you asked him to hand you a SD card because your camera was missing one. He knows it wasn’t actually your first interaction with him.

You remember your exact first words with Jungwon.

“You said I stink?” You said as you stood above his desk where he was sitting, three minutes before your shared class starts.

He blinks up at you, studying your furrowed brows and the slight pout on your lips. His mouth falls open, but nothing comes out. You roll your eyes, reaching for something in your backpack. You take out a Jo Malone perfume, and start to spray it between you and him. You stopped until Jungwon started coughing from the amount of strong fragrance in the air, smiling like you won first place at an Olympic sport, before walking back to your designated seat.

Jungwon bought the perfume the next day, waiting for you to use all the perfume up and putting it in your locker when he heard you complain to your friends that it was getting empty.

“She has your eyes and your dimples when she giggles.” You say, matter of factly. You didn’t want to admit that you take in Jungwon’s cat-like eyes, the soft brown that they are and his cute dimples he has whenever he laughs at something stupid Riki said.

“She also has your nose,” Jungwon also says after a little silence. He noticed the baby’s nose when he first picked her up, how could he not when he spends your time arguing to admire your facial features?

You stay quiet after he says that, unsure of what to say. This was awkward, and there was literally nothing to go off of. The only proof of whose home this is, is that a random baby that spawned out of nowhere looks like both you and Jungwon. Is that really enough to go off of?

As the both of you are in deep thought, you snap out of it as your stomach grumbles from not eating dinner last night. You crashed in bed as soon as you finished your homework, completely forgetting to eat dinner.

Jungwon does his best to stifle a laugh, but he fails, which earns him a glare from you. He stands up from the bench, your eyes following his movements as he walks towards the stairs. He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “Are you coming? Riki says I make a mean pancake.”

Your brows raise in surprise, standing up from the bench and following him down the stairs. As you take in the new surroundings, Jungwon just strides into the kitchen as if he knew exactly where he was.

“Are you sure you aren’t the one pranking me? You look so…natural in the house,” You start to question, but you highly doubt it because he panicked and over thought as much as you did. He shrugs at your question, but he begins to think the same as well. How did he exactly know where the kitchen was, not thinking twice about looking at yet another new surroundings.

As he starts to prepare the pancakes for the both of you, you walk towards the living room that is next to the open spaced kitchen. There’s a scrapbook laid open on the coffee table, and you quickly rush to look at it, thinking it would give you some hints about where you were.

You were wrong. It only made you even more confused as you started to flip through the pages.

Even though it freaked you out what was on the pages, you couldn’t help but keep looking at the filled pages full of photos and writings.

Every single photo had a photo of at least you, Jungwon, or the baby.

You’re flipping through the pages backwards, so when you get to the first few pages, you see a photo of you and Jungwon under a decorated wedding arch. Your eyes widen at the pictures, one of you kissing him on the cheek and another of both of you kissing on the lips. You felt like throwing up.

Fighting through it, you keep going backwards until you reach the first page. There lies a taped letter, and you instantly recognize it as Jungwon’s writing. You read it, and the further you get down to the end of the written letter, you don’t notice Jungwon calling your name.

“Y/n! The pancakes are ready…” his voice fades out as he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re looking at. His face pales.

He wrote that letter in junior year. He remembers so vividly, him planning to put it in your locker. Even though he enjoys your little bickering here and there, he wants to be able to hold you, kiss you, and love you. He wants to see you smiling, not because of your friends, but because of him. You only frown whenever you’re around him.

He wishes you didn’t mishear what he said. Maybe if you heard “Riki stinks” instead of “Y/n stinks”, you two would have been a couple sooner.

“You like me?” You ask him, but you’re not looking at him. You’re staring blankly at the last words written on the letter that reads, “Please accept my liking for you! - Jungwon<3.”

His mouth is dry.

He never did put it in your locker. He really was! But their senior, Intak, beat him to it. You rejected Intak for whatever reason, but he lost his courage to shove the letter into your locker for the rest of the year and decided that bickering and fighting with each other would be enough to satiate him for the time being.

After a long silence, you shut the scrapbook and put it back on the table. You shift on the couch that you’re sitting on, turning around to look him in the eye, however, he’s not looking at you. He’s staring down at his pancakes, teeth capturing his bottom lip as he thinks of what to say.

He doesn’t think you reciprocate his feelings. Why would you when you pick a fight with him every day at school? He thinks you’re just bored and find entertainment in bickering with him, and he’s fine with that. At least he gets to interact with you daily, it’s enough for him.

But now? He’s scared. He’s scared that if he answers yes, he does like you, then you will never speak to him. Knowing you, you might walk out the door of this foreign house that they’re in, and never come back.

“I don’t know if I like you, to be honest.” You say flatly, as if you were so sure of what you were saying. He still doesn’t look up from his pancakes. He expected this.

“But, I can start now.”

part 2 out now!

#enhypen x reader #jungwon x reader #jungwon drabbles #jungwon oneshots #jungwon imagines #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x gender neutral reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #jungwon fic #enhypen fic #loveywonenha #jungwon #jungwon fanfic #enhypenfanfic

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serverusslaype · 6 months

Text

The Yule Ball, pt. 1

Severus Snape x professor!reader

omg wow two posts in one day? who am i?

i also wanted to post this because i asked about it a while ago lmao, but i'm going to split it into two parts and finish the end of the second part tomorrow after work, it's mostly done, i just need to tidy it up hehe. this isn't very long, however, in part two, it gets good of course. pls don't hate me :( </3

i hope you are all doing well!! :)

warnings: slight harassment? ew, karkaroff

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was sparkling and lively as loud laughter and chatter filled the wintry and festively decorated room. Several large round tables were dotted around the sides of it, laden with beautiful white centrepieces and matching silver cutlery and glittering glassware. Long, blue-grey curtains adorned with artifical snow hung from the walls between the majestic and mythical stone statues, as if imitating frozen waterfalls. A warm and fuzzy feeling settled in your body as you glanced around the gorgeously decorated Hall, a small smile finding your cherry-red painted lips.

You sat alone at a table in a silky, backless, long-sleeved dress with only a goblet of wine for company as you watched students and teachers alike dance joyously on the floor to a melodious tune. You had to bite back an amused grin as your eyes caught sight of Hagrid's hand slipping down to Madame Maxine's rear. She quickly swatted it away, and you couldn't help but chuckle quietly to yourself. Ever since the international schools arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid seemed to be smitten with the enormous witch, and you could see why. Madame Maxine was stunning and classy; always dressed in the finest attire you could ever imagine - and of course, always carried herself with elegance. You envied her slightly as you watched the pair sway sweetly together.

Speaking of the international schools, a certain Headmaster had taken a liking to you during their stay and Hogwarts, and it didn't please you at all. In fact, it made you rather uncomfortable. Well, he made you uncomfortable. You shivered slightly at the thought of Igor Karkaroff and lifted your goblet of wine to your lips, downing the rest of it carelessly. You'd been avoiding him all night, and you hoped you wouldn't have to speak to him for the rest of it.

As you placed the goblet back down, you glanced around, catching sight of Minerva stood to the right of Dumbledore and Snape who were currently observing the dancing students. Though you were looking at the older witch, your eyes were magnetically pulled to the wizard dressed in all black - surprisingly without his signature cloak.

Professor Snape.

You'd spoken to him a few times, but not many - he wasn't the most welcoming man you'd met. In fact, he was rather cold and short with you, which wasn't too unsurprising since he'd taught you back in the day when you attended Hogwarts as a student. So, you knew exactly what he was like. In those days, despite his harsh and cruel attitude towards you and your classmates, you developed a silly little crush on him. You weren't exactly sure why - perhaps it was the mysterious aura that he possessed, or his deep, sultry and silky voice he spoke with, or maybe it was just the plain simple fact that he was... attractive to you. Gods, your classmates would have disowned you, had you admitted such a thing.

Regardless of your history here, being the youngest professor here was a little intimidating to say the least, and the need to prove yourself was overwhelming. At times, you felt as if you didn't deserve your post as the professor of Astronomy - how could a twenty-something-year-old be qualified enough to teach students less than ten years their junior? Doubting yourself was bound to happen, especially in the presence of such talented, wise wizards like Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall - Flitwick was a duelling champion, for goodness sake. And what were you? Merely infatuated with the nightsky and everything that possibly dwells beyond it? Merlin.

A deflated sigh swiftly fell from your lips as you quickly stood up from your seat, beginning to reluctantly head over in the direction of your fellow colleagues. It's not like you didn't want to stand with them, you just felt awfully out of place, and you didn't want to look weird by sitting all by your lonesome all night. Being the new person at the new job was never fun.

As you neared them, your eyes were drawn to the gloomy Potions Master again. As if he could sense someone watching him, his deep black eyes flicked to you, and you quickly glanced away with burning cheeks, walking forwards to stop beside Minerva. Maybe your crush never went away, and you winced slightly at the thought.

Turning to Minerva, she looked at you with happy eyes, a smile gracing her lips. "Y/N," Minerva beamed, her shoulders relaxing in a cheerful manner, "we'd wondered where you'd disappeared off to."

You hummed happily at her words, your stiff body relaxing slightly. McGonagall had been your favourite professor when you'd studied at Hogwarts, even though you didn't exactly excel in her class of Transfiguration. She never berated you for your lack of skill in the subject and that was probably what solidified your preference.

You looked at the witch beside you, though a silhouette of a prominent nose and a mop of black hair clouded your vision. "Just needed a sit down, really." You replied with a soft voice, smiling as you linked your fingers together in front of your waist. "Also, I fancied some more wine, it's rather moreish." Minerva and Dumbledore chuckled at your light-hearted joke, but Snape did not. You swallowed awkwardly.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to be drinking in the presence of students, Professor L/N." Snape drawled in a demeaning tone from beside Dumbledore, side-eyeing you.

"What makes you think I'm going to get drunk?" You frowned, his subtle dig at you twisting your insides. Crush or not, he was getting under your skin.

Snape snorted slightly, "A history of misbehaviour at Hogwarts doesn't bode well." He said, turning his head to face you. You fought the itching urge to roll your eyes at his words, remembering that one time you had pranked his class.

"That was one time, Snape." You sighed, fighting hard not to groan. Apparently, he wasn't going to let this go. "And it was years ago now."

"I wouldn't want to take any chances." He sneered at you, and your stomach twisted horribly. Did he really despise you that much? It hurt to say the least, you thought he would've put that in the past and moved on, but apparently grudges are the next best thing.

"Right." You huffed quietly, and Minerva cast an awkward glance to Dumbledore who also looked rather uncomfortable. Yes, this was a terrible idea coming to stand with your colleagues. A fucking terrible idea. Snape always had to make you look childish. Suddenly, you pathetically wished that Karkaroff would suddenly appear and bother you so you wouldn't have to deal with this awful interaction. Anything would be better than this right now.

As if on cue, someone called your name. "Would you excuse me?" You sighed, casting an apologetic smile towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, purposefully ignoring Snape. Dumbledore also excused himself, leaving only the Heads of Slythering and Gryffindor together.

As you and Dumbledore walked off, Minerva turned to Snape with scornful eyes. "You shouldn't be so harsh on her, Severus," she huffed, "she's not a child anymore. Y/N is an adult, capable of making adult decisions. There's no need for such hostility."

Snape didn't reply, he only sighed heavily at Minerva's comment, prompting the older witch to roll her eyes at his petty behaviour. Though, underneath his cold and dismissive attitude towards you, there was something else. Something he did not want to unfold, nor understand. It wasn't a familiar feeling, and that was what worried him. And so, each time you spoke to him or looked at him, he had chosen to push that feeling away by being malicious to you. Snape wasn't fond of it, and he did resent himself slightly by acting so horribly towards you. Something inside of him tugged at his heart each time your face fell due to his sharp words, or the way he'd glare at you whenever you looked at him. It was the only thing he knew. Snape wasn't familiar with nor welcoming to feelings other than hatred or disdain.

The Potions Master cast his eyes over the crowds of students, absent-mindedly looking for your small figure. It's not like he wanted to check on you, he just wanted to see who had called for you, out of... curiosity. And there you were, chatting with the Weasley twins. Snape couldn't remember your exact age, but he was sure you were mid-twenties, perhaps early-twenties. Your youthful face and essence said so. As he observed you, his chest burned unusually as you laughed at something the twins had said, and it burned even hotter when he saw them hand you something. What were they doing?

"It's just a little something," Fred grinned goofily in his tuxedo as you held a small, neatly-wrapped box in your hands. It was a pale red, with a shining green bow. You looked up at them and smiled gratefully.

"Yeah, we just wanted to say thanks for being a brilliant teacher," George added after his brother, making you grin amused. The two of them always made you laugh in your classes, it was like they were the same person from how well they bounced off of each other.

"Oh, thank you, boys," you grinned, a little shocked at their kindness, "you didn't need to get me anything." Both Fred and George grinned together, their fluffy ginger hair bouncing a tad as they glanced at each other.

"You're our favourite, you know," George said, and Fred nodded with him, beaming. You chuckled at their silly smiles.

"Yeah, you're a thousand times better than any of the other professors," Fred agreed cheerfully, folding his arms against his chest.

"Especially Snape-" George interjected. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, he's a right old miserable git, he is." Fred grumbled, nodding behind you. "He's staring right at us, too." Your stomach dropped the second Fred said those words, and you quickly whipped your head around, your eyes meeting with Snape's own fierce ones. As quickly as you looked at him, you turned back around, your face becoming hot and pink.

"Are you blushing, professor?" George grinned wickedly, glancing at his brother who also shared that same expression.

"No!" You answered quickly, gasping.

"Don't tell me you like that horrible arse," Fred laughed, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"I wouldn't have expected you to fancy a Slytherin like him." George frowned, his nose turning up in slight disgust. "I mean, he hates everything and everyone, why would you-"

"I never even said I liked him! You two just assumed so!" You scoffed, folding your arms against your chest. The twins laughed at your reaction, glancing at each other. "Anyway, boys, thank you for the gift, but this conversation is over." Another hefty sigh fell from your lips as you looked between the two of them, smiling politely.

"Professor L/N," A raspy, deep voice came from behind you, and instantly, your blood went cold. You knew that thick accent very well. Fred and George Weasley looked like they were on the verge of busting out laughing. They knew of your dislike for the Durmstrang Headmaster, and you were sure that the majority of the school knew of his weird, little thing for you.

"Headmaster Karkaroff." You turned around hesitantly, fighting back a scream of utter frustration. He looked a little more groomed than usual - his messy, dark brown hair with specks of gray in it was brushed through, and his long goatee had been neatly manipulated into a sharp point. You were also surprised to see him dressed in such expensive looking clothing. The dress coat he sported was a creamy-beige, adorned with a shining black leather belt around his middle, accentuating his lanky figure.

"You look like you need a dance," The corners of his lips turned upwards into a mischievous smirk, and an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine. "May I help with that?" Karkaroff held out his hand, and your eyes shot down towards it.

"Erm," you stuttered, "well-" You couldn't find the words at all, and it wasn't helping that you could hear the twins behind you snickering to themselves. Before you could even answer, Karkaroff had his hand grasping yours and tugging you to the dancefloor. You stumbled slightly at how fast he had pulled you, and with your other hand, you reached down to grab your skirt to hike it up so you wouldn't trip over.

As the pair of you reached the floor after winding through hoards of dancing students, Karkaroff spun you around a little too quickly, and you ungracefully fell into his chest with a squeak. "Sorry," you mumbled, using a hand to push yourself away from him, "I wasn't really expecting you to do... that."

"You know," Igor chuckled, ignoring your previous comments, "I've been waiting for this moment ever since I arrived here at Hogwarts." He admitted with a wicked smirk, allowing his rough, bony fingers to slide down your bare back, gripping you a little too tightly for your liking.

"...To dance?" You frowned, using your free hand to fidget with his hand that laid flat against your bare back, silently telling him to ease off a little. "Don't be silly." You chuckled awkwardly, casting a glance over to where you had previously stood with the other teachers as you and Karkaroff swayed. Only Snape remained, and your face grew as hot as a firepit as you noticed his eyes were already stuck on you. His face was the usual unhappy, scornful, sour frown.

"Oh, but I am not being silly, little bird." Igor murmured, pushing his face closer to yours. Instinctively, you pulled your head away from his, scrunching your nose up at the awful pet name.

"Little bird?" You repeated, almost choking the words out. You squirmed within his uncomfy grip, casting another glance to Snape, hoping that he'd have just an ounce of human decency to realise that you were asking for help. Surely, he wouldn't be that much of an arsehole to ignore the sign of a colleague in trouble.

"Yes," Igor smiled, making your skin crawl. "You remind me of a little bird - tiny, beautiful..." Your eyes widened at his words, and again, you glanced to where you had seen Snape. Your heart dropped like a rock as you noticed the empty space where he had previously stood. You knew he was a dick, but not so much of a dick to let you get taken hostage by a man you hardly knew - and didn't want to know. "So beautiful... why don't we ditch this party and head back to my quarters? I could show you around." Karkaroff muttered and pulled you even closer, grinning lecherously as he brushed his nose against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched - but not in a good way.

"Igor..." Your voice was shaky, yet low, indicating that you weren't comfortable at all.

"How about we go somewhere more private?" Karkaroff's hands tightened even more as they slipped down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. A quiet gasp left your lips as you pressed your palms flat against his chest, attempting to push him off of you. Your eyes flicked to where Snape once stood again, but he was no-where to be seen.

"Something caught your eye, pilentse?" Karkaroff hummed lowly, his eyes narrowing, evidently upset that your attention is busied with something or someone else.

"No." You quickly replied - almost too quickly. "I just need a refreshment, do you mind?" You forced yourself to glance up at Karkaroff's intense, wrinkled eyes.

"Oh, no, that can wait. I've waited almost the whole night for this moment..." Igor grumbled with a sneer as his grip on you became deeper and a little tighter, as if to say you weren't leaving until he deemed it so. That was until you saw that same sneer fall from his face, replaced with what looked like fear. Instantly, your brows furrowed together into a confused frown as you noticed his eyes dart from yours to something behind you, and so you turned around, curious to see why Karkaroff looked like he was about to flee.

"Karkaroff." Snape's deep, almost threatening voice reached your ears, and immediately, your mouth went dry as your heart leaped up into it. So... he did notice you? A rush of relief filled your body and your shoulders relaxed a tad. Snape glanced down at you, his thick mop of black hair framing his pale face. The blue-white light from above highlighted his prominent, handsome features perfectly, and you felt a sense of warmth prickle your skin, pooling in your stomach. You looked away, certain that if you kept staring, he'd assume you were weird or something along those lines.

Igor swallowed thickly, his bony fingers digging into the skin of your back in fear. You winced slightly at the sharp prod, catching Snape's attention. His eyes darted down to where Karkaroff had an iron-grip on you, and his lip twitched into the beginning of a sneer as he looked back to Igor's worried eyes. "Snape," The Durmstrang Headmaster greeted the gloomy Potions Master, clearly a little afraid of him. Apparently everyone was fearful of Snape, except for a select few, you realised. "What can I help you with?" Karkaroff's thick accent had slipped slightly, his voice wavering. You had to stifle a laugh at that - how was a man like Igor Karkaroff afraid of Snape? There was definitely something that you were missing here.

"Professor L/N," Snape ignored Karkaroff and shifted his bored expression to you, though you didn't miss the venomous look that he'd shot at the Bulgarian. You were still in disbelief that Snape had answered your silent cries for help, let alone actually come to save you from Karkaroff's slimy grasp. "I believe we have some important matters to tend to." Snape said matter-of-factly, arching a brow at you expectantly.

"Wait, what?-" You choked out with wide eyes. You'd been staring a little too hard at Snape, and so you stumbled over your words, unprepared. "Oh, right, yeah- the, erm, the... valerian root." You finished, turning a bright shade of red as Snape's brows furrowed at you in a judgemental fashion, as if to say 'seriously?'.

"Yes," Snape drawled, dragging his disappointed eyes from you to Karkaroff. You huffed quietly, embarrassed. "The valerian root." The Potion Master repeated, shooting you a glare. He held out his hand for you to take, and you reached out to grasp a hold of it, when you were suddenly tugged backwards by Karkaroff. Snape's narrowed eyes darted to the Headmaster's hand wrapped securely around your waist, his nostrils flaring in slight anger. This old, despicable man had no business holding a young witch like you in such a manner.

"That can wait, surely?" Karkaroff said, his voice low as he tucked you closer to his side. You shot a desperate glance to Snape, begging him to help you again. A frustrated breath shot out of his nostrils.

"Tragically, no." Snape quipped sarcastically, his dark eyes piercing a burning hole through Karkaroff. Snape looked furious - his body was rigid. He hadn't moved a muscle apart from his eyes to look at either you or Igor. "Professor?" He glanced to you, stretching his hand to you once more, and you took it happily, allowing him to pull you out of Karkaroff's slimy hands and to his safe side. Your cheeks flushed pink at the closeness between you two, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Snape shifted his hand to sit on the small of your back, guiding you away from Karkaroff.

Part 2! (wip) Masterpost

there is part 1, i hope you enjoyed it, and i hope it was sort of what you expected! i can't remember what i said i was going to do but this is what i came up with hehe. i'm always a sucker for jealousy.

let me know if you liked it/what you thought, i do apologise that it was kinda short, but it'll be finished tomorrow! <3

i hope you're all well! :)

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