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evangelical04 · 1 month

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A Single Daffodil || 3

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 11.9K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut, body image issues

Author's Note: is this being posted over a week late? yes but I'm in the middle of exams at the moment eek! on the bright side, I'll be able to work on this more often after this week since most of my exams will be done! and then I have about a month until my job starts so I'm planning to grind!! all that aside, we get to see them get married here, so exciting!! yoongi seems to be having second thoughts hmmm interesting. let me know what you guys think! i love to hear your feedback <33

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee

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You nervously smoothed out the skirt of your dress in an effort to calm your nerves but found little success. The day of the rehearsal had come and in less than twenty-four hours, you were to be married. Your hands shook as you grasped the door handle of the entrance to the banquet hall. Hoseok laid a comforting hand on your shoulder before shooting you a reassuring smile. He had decided to attend the rehearsal at your insistence, citing seeing Joohee again as the reason, though you knew he could tell how worried you were.

Mustering a small smile in response, you pushed open the door to see the ceremony space set up with nauseatingly bright flowers and ornate, crystal-laden light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. The chairs were decorated in satin sashes with gold embroidery and the altar was woven around with glittering flowers. Your mother was standing at the edge of the aisle, speaking to the catering service employee. She was dressed impeccably as always, her commanding presence demanding that you look at and respect her. Your father was sitting in one of the satin chairs, scrolling dully on his phone. Your mother noticed you standing by the door and quickly beckoned you over.

As you approached, Hoseok following close behind, you noticed something at the end of the room. Standing at the end of the aisle was Yoongi, clad in the normal black suit you’d seen him in thus far, with his tie loosened and hair ruffled. He was speaking to his mother, who was adjusting his blazer, and his father, who stood off to the side, distantly nodding along. He had yet to notice your arrival, but you were fully enraptured by him. This was what you had been dreaming of since you’d met Yoongi outside that party so long ago, walking down the aisle to see him at the other end, promising your lives to each other in an act of fierce and nurtured love. But that wasn’t what was happening. Hoseok’s grip on your shoulder grounded you as you approached your mother. You could feel his arm laying across your shoulder blades and hanging loosely, but comfortingly, in an effort to brace you for your mother.

“Nice to see you finally made it. You must’ve been in a rush if you only had time to choose that outfit,” your mother stated, not bothering to properly greet you or acknowledge Hoseok. She knew who he was and she didn’t approve of your close relationship with him, but she knew that she couldn’t say anything out loud lest her image be tainted, which is what you were banking on.

Feeling Hoseok’s grip tighten at your mother’s careless words, you tried to subtly placate him, “Hello, mother. I’m sorry I’m late. Will we be starting soon?” Your mother only nodded curtly before turning away to speak to more of the venue employees. You let out a heavy breath before sitting down at one of the nearby chairs, not making an effort to try and greet your father. It’s not like he’d acknowledge you anyway.

“God damn, you need therapy,” Hoseok whistled lowly.

You let out a tired laugh, pulling him down to sit next to you, “Yeah, but we knew that already. Are you sure you’re up to face these guys? It can be a lot.”

Hoseok nodded, smiling kindly at you, before squeezing the hand you pulled him down with, “Of course, I am. I said I was here for you and I meant it.”

You grinned, having missed his fervent support and soothing touch, “Thanks, Hobi. You’re the best.” Hoseok only gave you another squeeze in response.

“Wow, I’m offended,” came a voice from behind you, “I thought I was the best.”

You and Hoseok turned to find Joohee in a simple dress, hands resting on her hips. Smiling up at her, you nodded, “You know you’re in a league of your own. Hobi can’t even compare.”

Hoseok scoffed incredulously, “You’re so fickle, how could you call yourself my friend.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you leaned back in your chair with Joohee joining, sitting on your other side. Your eyes drifted back to Yoongi, and you startled, finding him looking right back at you. He casually shifted his gaze back to his mother, who was still speaking to him, not sparing you another glance.

“So, that’s him?”

You turned towards Hoseok, whose gaze was pointed at Yoongi’s form. You nodded, “Yeah, that’s him. My…fiance.”

Hoseok studied your sullen form for a moment before grabbing your shoulders and giving you a friendly squeeze, “At least he’s hot!”

Joohee and you laughed at his antics before hearing the large, wooden doors to the entrance open once more. A group of handsome men entered, about four, only one of whom you recognized as Joohee’s older brother. The group approached, laughing together while walking towards Yoongi. Joohee stood, shouting Seokjin’s name, calling him over to your small group. Kim Seokjin smiled at the sight of his sister before breaking off from the group, one of the men following after, while the others continued to Yoongi.

“Hey, Joo, how’s it going,” Seokjin smiled easily, ruffling his sister’s hair. She swatted at him before answering, “Good, but mom’s been on my case lately to come home.”

You looked on in envy, wishing you had a similar, friendly relationship with your own brother. Kyungsoo was nice enough to you, when he cared to acknowledge you. He had been primed by your parents to take over their company since he was young, but they’d made sure that the two of you had stayed competitive academically. Even though you were younger, you tended to do better in your studies, something your parents never let Kyungsoo forget. As a result, he’d grown extremely distant with you and you rarely spoke now. Actually, you weren’t even sure if he was coming to the wedding.

“There’s the bride-to-be! How are you feeling,” Seokjin’s voice boomed, snapping you out of your daze.

You smiled politely at him, “Hi, Jin oppa, it’s nice to see you. I’m feeling alright, as well as I can.”

Seokjin nodded sympathetically, “I know Yoongi hasn’t been the best, but give him some time to adjust. If he’s still an ass after that, let me know and I’ll beat him up.”

You laughed as he puffed out his chest and raised an arm to display his muscles. Joohee rolled her eyes before punching him lightly in his side, “Oppa, no one wants to see that. Here, let me introduce you to Hobi.”

Hoseok stood to greet the older man, no longer obstructing your view of the other man who had followed Seokjin out of the group earlier. He was quite tall, though not as tall as Seokjin, and well built, with tattoos flowing down his hands, curling around the small wrinkles of his fingers. His shaggy black hair framed a boyish face that wore a polite smile. Why did he seem so familiar?

“Jeon Jeongguk,” you blurted out, almost stumbling to stand and confirm your suspicions. He turned to face you, with you now realizing that it was, in fact, the same streamer you’d been following for the past few years. You hadn’t recognized him immediately without his usual garb of sweatshirts, headphones, and piercings littering his face.

“Hi, you’re Seo Y/N, I assume,” he smiled, eyes crinkling. Feeling slightly starstruck, you nodded dumbly.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Kook, she’s a big fan of yours. She watches your streams all the time,” Joohee interjected. Your gaze shot towards her, sending her a silent message.

You know him? And you didn’t tell me?

Joohee only shrugged sheepishly, Sorry, must’ve slipped my mind.

You gritted your teeth, I’m so interrogating you later.

Jeongguk’s voice called you back to him, “Really? That’s cool, I always love meeting fans.”

Feeling your cheeks redden, you stumbled slightly over your words, “Yeah! I love all your videos, you got me into a couple of new games I didn’t think I’d ever enjoy,” you finished, laughing awkwardly.

Jeongguk took it in stride, bashfully scratching the back of his head, “Thanks, I appreciate that. So you’re into a lot of games, yourself?”

Seeing an opportunity, you relaxed, feeling yourself brighten at the chance to talk about your favorite subject, “Yeah! I actually work for O.K. Gaming in their planning team. I’m not really into MMOs, but I like a lot of RPGs and platformers, my favorite right now is actually this indie one from the U.S. that’s been out for a couple of years, Celeste, it got put on the switch but I played it on my PC. But I’ve been branching out, thanks to you! Watching you play all the old Zelda games made me want to get into it too, but I ended up starting with Breath of the Wild because it looked so pretty, the graphics are just amazing! So are the mechanics, I was really impressed with how-”

“Woah, there,” you heard Hoseok, laying a hand on the small of your back, “You’re gonna scare him away.”

You laughed awkwardly, noticing the shocked expression that painted Jeongguk’s face, “Sorry, I tend to get over-excited when it comes to that stuff.”

Jeongguk seemed to snap back into the conversation, shaking his head wildly with a large grin, “No, that’s great! It’s been a while since I’ve been able to geek out with someone. We should totally hang out, what’s your number?”

You felt yourself slip back into a comfortable smile before taking Jeongguk’s phone to put your number in while he excitedly mentioned the games he was thinking of streaming next. Handing his phone back, he glanced at it before looking back up at you, “Hey, is it okay for me to call you noona? I do the same with Joohee noona.”

Slightly surprised at his forwardness, you nodded, “Yeah, that’d be nice. I don’t think I’ll call you Kook though.”

He laughed brightly, “We’ll work our way up to that.”

One of the other groomsmen called both Seokjin and Jeongguk back to the altar, leaving you to bask in the feeling of having met one of your favorite content creators and becoming friends with him, ignoring Hoseok’s quiet teasing at your geeking out. The bliss didn’t last long though as you heard your mother clap her hands and ask everyone to sit near the front. Hoseok’s hand slipped into your own, giving it a gentle squeeze, along with an encouraging smile, before letting you and Joohee join the others at the front. You’d wished that you could put Hoseok in your wedding party, but you knew your mother would never allow it. You were grateful already that he’d come to the rehearsal despite not being able to do anything the entire time.

You and Joohee took your seats at the front, sitting next to some other young women you recognized from your mother’s galas, likely the rest of your bridesmaids. Your mother had been kind enough to let you choose Joohee as your maid of honor, but you knew she’d only allowed it because Joohee’s family was high up enough according to her standards.

Your mother positioned herself at the altar, addressing everyone with a confident tone, “Now that everyone’s present, I’ll let Mrs. Shin go through the itinerary for today.” Your mother then stepped aside, joining your father on your family’s side of the aisle.

A small, stout woman with her hair in a tight bun and a string of pearls adorning her neck took the stand, “Hello, I’m Shin Miyeon, the wedding planner for this event. For today, we’ll start with a rehearsal of the entrances and ceremony, which will be followed by the entrances for the reception and a run-through of the timings for the dances tomorrow. We’ll end with a joint dinner, and then we’ll be done. Let’s get started.”

Mrs. Shin immediately started directing people, the bridal party being the first, and pairing them up by height to walk together. Joohee was quickly whisked away, leaving you shaking nervously, as this was all beginning to feel a bit too real. The thought was suddenly occurring to you that you really were going to be marrying Yoongi and he absolutely did not want it to happen. Sinking further into your seat, you sent an encouraging, but wavering, smile to Joohee who was paired with her brother due to their similar heights. Your eyes drifted towards Yoongi, who was sitting calmly on the other side of the aisle, swiping through his phone with an unimpressed expression. How could he be so nonchalant about all this?

“Mr. Min, Ms. Seo, please join me at the entrance,” Mrs. Shin’s voice called out, making you raise your head in her direction. You felt your heart rate speed up and your hands clench, you weren’t ready for this. Your vision almost seemed to cloud as it felt like a hand was closing in around your throat, and your breath started to stutter. You absolutely were not ready for this. Your life was about to change, arguably for the worse, and you had to spend it with someone who wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You could distantly hear Mrs. Shin calling your name once more but it felt like you couldn’t move, your body didn’t feel like your own. Gaze lowering to the ground, it seemed like spots were taking over your vision. Your breath continued to quicken and you could feel yourself beginning to fully lose control of your breathing.

This can’t be happening.

You needed to get ahold of yourself, there were people all around you, not to mention your mother and Yoongi. But no matter how hard you tried to ground yourself, the control you had over your body kept slipping away, and it only caused you to freak out further. A pair of smart, black dress shoes came into your view and you lifted your head to see Yoongi looking down at you with a raised eyebrow through your blurry vision.

“Are you coming?”

You forced yourself to hold your breath, letting it out slowly after counting for a few seconds, before nodding and standing on wobbly legs. You didn’t have time to break down, you had a job to do.

Following Yoongi and Mrs. Shin to the entrance doors, you pointedly avoided eye contact with your mother while sending shaky smiles to Joohee and Hoseok. You had to get a grip.

“Alright, let’s go through the order we’ll be going down the aisle. Can the rest of the wedding party please come down here?”

You were squished up against the door with Yoongi at your side as the wedding party took their places to arrive at the altar before you. Setting your eyes straightforward, you resisted any temptation to glance at Yoongi to see his expression. You couldn’t face him after he’d witnessed you almost experience a full-on panic attack. Focusing in on Mrs. Shin’s firm tone was an easy distraction, as you watched her guide your wedding party down the aisle and to the altar. Slowly but surely, she made her way to you and your groom, with Yoongi being directed first.

“You’ll walk before Ms. Seo and take your place next to Mr. Kim at the stand,” Mrs. Shin said, guiding Yoongi toward the other end of the room. You watched as he gracefully strode down the aisle, casually stopping next to Seokjin and turning to face your direction. The action made you pause, almost breathlessly, as your gaze connected. However, his eyes didn’t last long on your form, as they slid over to Seokjin and Yoongi began conversing with him.

You couldn’t help the disappointed feeling in your chest, despite knowing full well you had no right to suffer it. Yoongi wasn’t yours, he would never be, something he had made quite clear in your limited interactions. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a tugging in your stomach, a pain in your forefinger, at his blatant dismissal of you. Biting your lip, you cursed inwardly, now was not the time to fall even deeper for your husband-to-be.

“Ms. Seo, please follow me. You can hold this in place of your bouquet,” Mrs. Shin said, handing you a nondescript water bottle. A quick glance at Hoseok’s form turned to face you had you confirming that he was making fun of you as you had suspected. You brushed off his giggles and stepped in what you hoped was an elegant manner after Mrs. Shin, following her down the aisle.

You deliberately avoided looking at Yoongi’s face, knowing that he wouldn’t be watching you. Did you want him to?

Yes.

You almost scoffed. What a ridiculous notion. What you were in need of was a good, old reality check, not playing into the fantasy of marrying Yoongi for love. As you passed Hoseok, he whistled wolfishly, earning a disapproving frown from your mother. It was exactly what you needed though, pulling a laugh out of you before discreetly flipping him off from behind the water bottle. You felt the tension leave your body at Hoseok’s familiar antics, finally feeling relaxed for the first time that night. Maybe you could do this, after all.

Reaching the altar, Mrs. Shin proceeded to give minor notes to the rest of your wedding party as you stood awkwardly next to Yoongi. You could hear his soft breaths as he waited patiently for Mrs. Shin to address you both, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at or try to start a conversation with him. Yoongi seemed to be doing the same, keeping his eyes forward and occasionally glancing at his watch.

You felt lonely. You were standing next to the person who was going to be your partner for the rest of your life and yet, you felt a deep and painful distance from him. You could feel his warmth, hear him shuffling beside you, but you deliberately shied away from brushing elbows to solidify the separation between you. Yoongi seemed so calm and indifferent, it made you feel a troubling combination of envy and anger.

Why couldn’t you be as blase as him about this? Why was he so apathetic in the first place? Didn’t he care about you at all? Was he judging you for not being aloof yourself? Why didn’t he want to engage with you at all?

It hurt, to say the least, but the rational part of you annoyingly came to his defense. Realistically, you knew he had no obligation to try and converse with, or even care about, you. So why were you still so hurt?

“Mr. Min, Ms. Seo, please join me at the doors. We’ll run through it again.”

Mrs. Shin’s voice put a halt to your spiraling thoughts, making you register Yoongi turning around beside you. Following suit, you joined behind him, taking a glance at your watch. Only about thirty or so minutes had passed.

You sighed, this was really going to be a test of your endurance.

The cushioned chair felt welcoming, even though your company did not evoke the same feeling. Your mother was sitting across from you and her cold stare made you shrivel into your seat. Hoseok was placed on the far end of the table with Joohee, making them achingly far from you. Yoongi was next to you in a performance pretending this was a willing marriage. Not that the restaurant staff would care.

You scowled internally, lamenting the fact that you couldn’t even eat dinner comfortably. Your mother was sending you cursory glances while talking to Yoongi’s mother, and your dad was talking business with Yoongi’s father, and with Yoongi conversing with Seokjin, you were painfully lonely. You resorted to quietly playing with the napkin in your lap and staring at your empty plate and wine glass in front of you, desperately wishing you could drink to make the dinner easier but you knew your mother wouldn’t approve.

“Y/N noona?”

You looked up, making eye contact with Jeongguk, who was sitting next to you, previously talking to another groomsman with stunning dimples next to him.

“Oh, yes,” you responded, straightening in your chair.

“I wanted to talk to you some more about the games you mentioned earlier since we didn’t get to finish,” he responded, a bright, bunny smile decorating his face.

You felt yourself smile warmly in response automatically, his joy and bubbliness seemed to be contagious, “Yeah, I’d love to. What would you like to know?”

The conversation with Jeongguk proved to be your oasis in the desert of the stale and stiff conversations happening around you, especially between your parents. His encouraging smile put you at ease and made the tension flow out from your fingers. You were grateful that he was so engaging, keeping you distracted from the shifting from the aloof and dominating presence you felt beside you.

Yoongi had remained relatively quiet throughout the whole evening, only having spoken to you when you were on the verge of breaking down. He spoke quietly to his friends, not bothering to introduce you to them, and had barely looked in your direction. Part of you couldn’t deny it upsetting you, but you constantly reminded yourself that this was to be expected.

The both of you had made no commitment to each other outside of appearing as a couple when it mattered, he had no obligation to be friendly towards you. It felt like your mind was going in circles continually trying to keep your emotions in check and avoid crossing the boundaries Yoongi had so clearly laid out.

The thought entered your mind once again, Is this what the rest of your life is going to be like?

It certainly felt that way.

You felt Yoongi shift beside you once again, making you flinch. Thankfully, Jeongguk didn’t seem to notice, too engrossed in describing his most recent gaming obsession with you. You felt hyper-aware of Yoongi’s presence, whether he was right beside you or at the other end of the room. It bothered you how much he affected you, but you almost enjoyed it at the same time.

There was something pleasant about the feeling of falling in love with someone, regardless of whether it was a tragic infatuation or not. The rush of your heartbeat whenever you caught a glimpse of him, the way your breath hitched when you accidentally brushed shoulders, the way your fingers itched to grasp his hand, it all felt so romantic in a way.

Where it all came crashing down was the reality that Yoongi didn’t feel a semblance of the same way. Your spiked heartbeat was met with his indifferent exterior, your hitched breath with his calm and even exhales, and your twitching fingers with his clenched fist. It was detrimental, damaging even, and it was taking a toll on, not only your emotional wellbeing but your self-confidence as well. You were so swiftly rejected by him that it was a blow to your self-esteem. You hadn’t felt particularly great about yourself prior to his crushing dismissal, but you had certainly been in a downward spiral since then.

Too often now you were scrutinizing your appearance in the mirror, choosing baggier clothing while hating the silhouette, and catching yourself while speaking. It wasn’t logical or warranted, but that didn’t stop your overactive mind from whispering your insecurities quietly every day. Maybe Hoseok had a point. You really needed to look into therapy.

“Noona?”

“Oh, sorry, I was just zoning out,” you blinked, tuning back into Jeongguk’s honey-sweet voice.

He smiled sympathetically, something you seemed to be on the receiving end of a lot lately, “That’s okay. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m alright,” you nodded, not wanting to divulge the cacophony of thoughts swimming around in your head, “Please, continue with what you were saying.”

Jeongguk’s energizing smile made a reappearance, making you relax further into your chair. You let his dulcet voice lull you into a comfortable conversation for the rest of the dinner, trying not to react whenever you felt movement beside you.

“Thank you all for coming, we appreciate your being here. We’ll be meeting at the venue tomorrow at nine, so please be sure to be on time,” your mother concluded, your group standing outside the restaurant. With that, the crowd slowly dispersed, your parents speaking to Yoongi’s at their cars and the bridal parties filing out into respective vehicles as well. You leaned back into Hoseok’s firm torso, letting his arm encircle your waist and his chin rest on your shoulder.

You didn’t often let people touch you, but Hoseok was a rare exception, having broken your barriers down in college, and served as a comforting touch whenever you needed it. It evolved into more casual affection, a similar version being displayed between Hoseok and Joohee, and you accepted it as just part of his personality. You knew how it looked to people around you but you simply didn’t care, Hoseok was a good friend, and you’d be damned if you were going to refuse the little human contact you allowed.

Joohee was talking animatedly to Hoseok about something or other, you weren’t really paying attention. Hoseok’s warmth soothed you, making your eyelids fall in the exhaustion from the day’s events. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught your mother frowning at you, but you paid no mind. For the first time since the announcement, you wondered if she’d finally leave you to your own devices now that you were doing the ultimate show of subservience to her.

Kim Seokjin’s booming voice startled you from Hoseok’s grasp, making him switch to leaning against your car door. You spotted Seokjin’s tall figure making his way over to you, the other groomsmen following behind. Yoongi was also tailing Seokjin, making you stand up straighter and try to steel your expression.

“Joo, Y/N, we’re gonna go for some drinks to celebrate Yoongi’s bachelordom ending, want to join? You’re welcome too, of course, Hobi,” Seokjin smiled kindly. You almost flinched at the mention of Yoongi’s bachelor lifestyle ending, apparently, he hadn’t told his friends about the rules he’d set.

Joohee’s face hardened towards Yoongi, apparently realizing the same thing you did, before turning sickeningly sweet towards her brother, “No thanks, oppa. We’re gonna head back to Y/N’s.”

“Oh, c’mon, noona,” Jeongguk looked at you imploringly, eyes shining, “It’ll be fun! We can hang out more!”

You smiled apologetically as you felt Hoseok wrap a protective arm around you, noting that he was probably on the same page as Joohee, “Sorry Jeongguk, maybe next time.”

Jeongguk shrugged, turning to the other groomsmen, the dimpled man with tan skin and a model-esque-looking man with dark eyebrows and lighter hair. Seokjin furrowed his eyebrow slightly, mouth upturning into a small frown, “Well, okay, but I’ll be taking you out to celebrate at some point, Y/N. Mark the date!”

You laughed quietly, waving him off with an acquiescing nod. The men filed back towards their respective cars, heading to bars or someone’s house, you assumed. You began turning further into Hoseok to face your car before realizing that Yoongi was still standing there.

Pausing, you looked at him questioningly, feeling Hoseok’s grip tighten. Yoongi’s dark eyes narrowed at your intertwined forms.

“Do you need something, Yoongi-ssi,” Joohee asked in a clipped tone. You almost cringed at the blatant contempt.

“No,” Yoongi responded quietly, “I don’t. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He nodded politely in your direction before turning to walk back to his car, pausing for a last glance at your bemused face.

“What was that,” Joohee scoffed, flipping off Yoongi’s silhouette.

You shrugged, not knowing what to make of it either, “C’mon, let’s just go home. I need to get drunk.”

Joohee entered your car and you were just about to follow before Hoseok pulled you back, making you almost stop in your tracks.

“Y/N,” he sighed, looking into your eyes, “Are you really okay?”

You pulled your hand out of his, tired of being treated in such a fragile manner, “Yes, I’m fine. As good as I can be. I just want to go home.” You felt bad for snapping, but you were irritable after a long day and you wanted to get out of your dress and wipe off your makeup. You turned back towards the car before Hoseok spoke again.

“I know,” Hoseok said softly, “But there’s something off about him. I can’t place it. It was the way he looked at you, especially when I was hugging you.”

You twisted your head in his direction quickly, “Stop. Seriously, Hoseok, I really don’t need to be thinking about that. The last thing I need for this stupid infatuation is to think that there’s something there when there isn’t. I don’t need you putting those kinds of thoughts into my brain.”

Hoseok recoiled before scratching the back of his head and shooting you an apologetic glance, “You’re right, sorry. Let’s just go home, yeah?”

You both entered the car, Joohee leaning forward from the backseat to glance at the both of you.

“Is everything cool with you guys,” she questioned, likely having witnessed the scene outside the car.

“Yeah, just fine,” you said bluntly, gripping the steering wheel. What were you doing? Hoseok was just expressing concern. You didn’t have a right to get so worked up and take out your anger on him.

Sighing, you let yourself relax into your cushioned car seat, turning towards Hoseok who was in the passenger seat, “Sorry, Hobi. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s totally fine,” Hoseok smiled comfortingly, “Don’t even worry about it. I know how stressed you’ve been.”

“No,” you protested, “That isn’t an excuse. You were just looking out for me.”

Hoseok laughed jovially, “Hey, it’s fine, I promise. If anything, I’m glad to see you letting out some emotion, I was beginning to get worried that you didn’t get angry anymore.”

“Oh, she can get angry, alright,” Joohee mused from the backseat, “You’re just not around to see it anymore.”

You laughed, feeling relief at Hoseok’s easy acceptance of your apology. You started up your car, pulling out into the street.

“Let’s go get shitfaced in your living room,” Joohee cheered from behind you, Hoseok laughing along loudly.

A smile formed on your face, making you chuckle at Joohee’s exclamations. You were lucky, luckier than you thought initially. Even with everything going on, you felt your heart fill at your friends’ gracious and kind attitudes toward you. You continued driving to your apartment, feeling a touch more confident about your ability to get through tomorrow relatively unscathed.

Your dress felt constricting, but not in a way that a seamstress could fix. Despite your unfounded confidence the night before, standing behind the closed doors of the aisle sent a fresh wave of anxiety through your veins.

How were you going to get through this? Yoongi was waiting on the other side, at the end of the aisle, about to become your partner for life. Except, you weren’t going to be his partner in the same way.

Initially, Yoongi was supposed to walk down with you, your entourage partnered up like you’d practiced at the beginning of yesterday. But Mrs. Shin didn’t like the visual, making her change it to a more traditional style ceremony. Go figure that she wouldn’t think the sight of you and Yoongi walking together

A sick nausea curled in your stomach, making you clench the audacious bouquet, letting a few petals fall to the floor. You felt a hand clasp your shoulder, making you turn, seeing Joohee’s concerned frown.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, I’ll be right there. You can do this,” she squeezed your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I can do this,” you repeated, attempting to calm your nerves. A small voice in the back of your mind whispered, wondering if Yoongi had the same nerves.

The thought almost made you scoff, there was no way. Nothing much in his life was changing other than getting a roommate he had to take to galas.

You knew that wasn’t a fair sentiment. Yoongi was as negatively affected by this arrangement as you were, he was just taking a more emotionally removed approach. Maybe you should learn from that.

Mrs. Shin appeared next to you in a flurry, “We’re about to open the doors. Are you ready?”

You nodded stiffly, knowing the answer was that you’d never be ready to marry Min Yoongi.

Hearing the muffled piano begin to play, signaling the start to your bridal party’s entrance, you released a heavy breath, trying to paint on a passive exterior. Joohee whispered some small last bits of encouragement your way before taking her place in front of you.

The doors slowly opened, letting your bridesmaids walk down before you. You could feel your hands trembling.

Hidden from the audience’s eyes beside the door, Mrs. Shin gestured at you, mouthing that you were up next.

Taking a moment to close your eyes, you steeled your nerves and took a step forward. You could do this. It was just a walk, that’s all it was.

You repeated the mantra in your head as you took more and more steps down the aisle, focusing your gaze on the ornate carvings above the altar. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed your mother gesturing for you to smile, and you responded automatically, letting a small smile adorn your mouth. It felt hollow, but that wasn’t what mattered.

As you approached the altar, your gaze naturally shifted down to Yoongi, who was poised in a statuesque manner. He looked radiant, the black suit fitted perfectly to his chest and tapered at his waist. His charcoal hair was styled, showing his forehead, displaying his clear, smooth skin. His hands were clasped in front of him, your eyes tracing the outlines of his fingers, and his aura exuded confidence. You purposefully kept your gaze away from his face, not wanting to see the expression that he wore.

Reaching the steps up to the altar, you carefully climbed each one, making sure not to trip over the hem of your dress. You took your place next to Yoongi, feeling him turn to face the officiant. As the officiant began speaking, you felt yourself breathe out slowly, trying to recover from the initial stress. You had the first step done, the rest wouldn’t be so hard.

Thankfully, you could zone out for most of the ceremony, with the officiant droning on in your ear. Most of this was for show anyway, you didn’t really need to seem present. It was lucky that you were facing away from your audience, allowing your eyes to glaze over and subtly stifle yawns.

You barely processed Yoongi’s presence throughout the ceremony, trying not to glance in his direction. He hadn’t really acknowledged you, but it didn’t surprise you. In a way, it almost pained you that you were getting used to his apathy this quickly.

Another blessing came in the form that you didn’t have to recite vows. The attendees of the weddings had seen far too many arranged marriages to sit through another cycle of canned and rehearsed vows. It felt especially lucky to you as well in that you wouldn’t have to look into Yoongi’s eyes as you declared your devotion to him.

The ceremony itself quickly came to an end, and you were forced to turn to Yoongi, making eye contact accidentally for the first time that day. It sent a rush of heat to bloom in the apples of your cheeks and the pace of your heart quickened. It felt pathetic, really, to let him have that effect on you.

You extended your hand as Yoongi gently took it, sliding the cold metal of the ring onto your finger. Your hands felt numb from staying in place so long during the officiant’s speech, but Yoongi’s warm touch sparked new life in them, making them tremble in his grasp.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you took Yoongi’s hand in your own, noting the smooth planes of his palm and long digits. You internally cringed at your quivering fingers as you slid Yoongi’s own obsidian wedding band onto his finger. Letting go as soon as you were done, you let your hands fall back down to your sides. You pointedly avoided any eye contact with Yoongi, knowing what was next.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

It felt like the air was sucked from your lungs. You knew this was coming yet it still scared you. You weren’t so much afraid of the kiss, you’d kissed plenty of people, but you were afraid of what it would ignite in you.

Yoongi left you no room to hesitate as he grasped your cheeks and gently tugged you toward him, almost making you stumble. Your eyes widened as he leaned it, his own closed. Reflexively, you almost pulled away.

“Relax,” you heard him whisper, too quiet for even the officiant to hear, the warm breath from his words gently caressing your mouth. But you couldn’t stop shaking. You clenched your eyes shut as he leaned in closer before feeling the skin of his thumb covering your lips. His thumb pressed against your lip for just a second before he pulled back entirely, dropping his hands back down to his sides.

You hovered, unsure of what just happened. Did he cover your mouth for the kiss? You weren’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, you were admittedly relieved, not wanting your first kiss with Yoongi to be under these circumstances of obligation, and it certainly spoke to his respect for your own consent. Even though you were sure there wouldn’t be any more chances for a kiss anyway.

But a more sinister and greedy part of you wished he hadn’t shielded you, craved the soft touch of his lips against your own. You, ashamedly, wanted to share a romantic moment with him, even if it was a guise for a happy marriage. Just feeling his slightly calloused fingers grazing your cheeks was enough to leave you wanting more.

Applause startled you out of your trance, making you turn towards the audience and plaster a smile on your face. Scanning the crowd, you spotted Hoseok clapping, sending you an encouraging smile. You breathed out, feeling minutely comforted by his sweet smile.

Yoongi took your hand, holding it, as you began walking down the aisle. You’d practiced this yesterday, so your body was almost numb to the situation of his thumb rubbing against your forefinger.

Almost.

A nasty thought slithered its way into the forefront of your mind.

That was the same thumb that he covered the kiss with.

As you walked down the narrow pathway, making sure to smile at the sea of guests your mother had invited, you could feel your gaze growing hazier. This was all getting to be a bit overwhelming. Your feet were hurting in the heels your mother had made you wear, the jacquard of the dress was starting to dig into your skin at the bust, the hairpins lining your hair were hurting your scalp, and the scent of Yoongi’s cologne was intoxicating.

You and Yoongi reached the end of the aisle, walking past the doors and letting them close behind, leaving the both of you a few minutes to catch your breath before you were whisked away from the reception. Yoongi quickly separated from you, taking a water bottle from an attendant and downing almost half of it. Your hand felt cold suddenly.

Another employee offered a water bottle to you as well, and you gratefully accepted, taking a swig immediately. The cool liquid soothed your scratchy throat, feeling it go down with it being the only thing you’d had today by way of food. The attendants then gestured for you to follow them into separate changing rooms, preparing hanboks that your parents had wanted you to wear during the reception.

Letting the attendant dress you in the hanbok gave you time to process what had just happened. You were now married to Yoongi. You had filled out the paperwork about a week prior, but the bells and whistles of the ceremony made it feel much more real. Sighing, you took solace in the fact that the hardest bit was done.

But was it really?

Now, you had to sit through a reception, thanking guests for coming and pretending like Yoongi actually liked you. Exchanging recycled pleasantries and fake smiles with your parents’ social circle and business partners was less than appealing.

The employee quietly told you that she was finished and moved aside to let you look in the mirror.

You tried to be happy about how pretty you looked, but all you could see were your bloodshot eyes and the slightly cakey makeup trying to hide your eye bags. At least the hanbok wasn’t as tight as your dress.

Exiting the dressing room, you caught sight of Yoongi in his dark blue hanbok with white pants. He looked striking, as always, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be starstruck at this point in the day. You just wanted to go home and lie down. You were led to the reception hall where guests were already mingling for cocktail hour while the food was being prepped to be served.

A man whose name you didn’t know announced your arrival and the guests turned in your direction and began to clap. Yoongi grabbed your hand in his once more, the suddenness of the action making you flinch. You entered the hall, smiling and greeting guests politely. You couldn’t even recognize anyone staring back at you.

Yoongi led you through all the guests expertly, exchanging greetings and small talk smoothly like he’d done this before. You felt like you were in a trance, repeating the same pleasantries and shallow questions. How was he so good at this?

You finally reached the end of the guests, moving to your bridal parties. You hadn’t even seen your parents, your mother was probably talking to guests herself. Joohee pulled you into a tight hug, holding it for a second longer before releasing you with a comforting smile on her face and sympathy in her eyes. The other bridesmaids didn’t bother going beyond quick congratulations, which you were grateful for. You didn’t know them anyway. Hoseok was next to Joohee, also immediately encasing you and attempting to ruffle your hair, but you moved your head out of the way. He stepped back, taking a moment to look at you before speaking.

“You’re doing well.”

Your eyes became watery as you mustered up a shaky smile, something about him praising you for what felt like thankless effort almost pushed you over the edge, “Thanks, Hobi. Love you.”

“Love you too, always.”

“Hey, I love you too,” Joohee protested, making you bark out a laugh.

“You’re my number one, Joo,” you smiled, taking her hands and squeezing them. She grinned widely in response before punching Hoseok in the arm.

“Ow, what the heck,” he grumbled.

“Because I love Y/N more than you,” she responded petulantly, leaving Hoseok to only roll his eyes in response.

The antics made you smile, giving you room to breathe in the stifling room of business partnership discussions.

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s deep voice rumbled, making you freeze before turning to face him. His eyes laid on your figure in what felt like a scrutinizing manner, making you squirm under the heavy gaze.

“I’d like you to meet my groomsmen,” Yoongi stated, gesturing behind him, “You already know Jin hyung.”

You nodded mutely, sending an unsure smile in Seokjin’s direction. Why was he doing this? He hadn’t bothered to introduce you to them before, why did it matter now? Were you supposed to introduce Hoseok too, then?

“This is Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi continued, moving his hand to clap the tall, dimpled man’s shoulder. The man smiled politely, the dimples faint with the minute movement, and stepped forward, putting out his hand, “Hi, I’ve known Yoongi since college. It’s nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand, feeling quite exposed under his dragon-like eyes, “Nice to meet you too. I like your hair.” It was a rule that you’d made with yourself, to try and give at least one compliment to each new person you met. You found that it made them much more open and friendly towards you, and it didn’t hurt to receive compliments in return.

“Thanks,” Namjoon said, smile widening and deepening his dimples. His firm grasp on your hand grounded you, but you still felt your cheeks grow hot at the contact. Why were all of Yoongi’s friends so hot? “I like your hair too,” he finished. You smiled in response, pulling your hand away before your blush became too obvious.

“This is Kim Taehyung,” Yoongi’s voice pulled you out of the stupor Namjoon’s visual put you in, “I met him a bit after college. He’s a pretty famous jazz performer.”

The model-esque man from the previous day stepped forward, rendering you speechless. Seriously, what was with this friend group? His elegant cheekbones and narrow nose perfectly complemented the kind eyes that adorned his face, and the sandy blonde hair that fell on his forehead. He quickly took your hand in his, kissing the top, making you gasp in response.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Taehyung said, his voice was a smooth baritone that sent shivers down your spine. He looked up from your hand, eyes hooded from his brow bone, making you quickly pull away at the stunning visual.

“Thanks,” you stammered, trying to collect your thoughts, “You have a pretty smile.”

Taehyung’s face broke out into the aforementioned expression, an adorably contagious boxy smile, as he straightened up, “Thanks!”

“I actually listen to some jazz myself, though not that much,” you mentioned, wanting something to connect over, “I’ve been very into Kenny Garrett recently.”

Taehyung’s smile brightened, letting out a low chuckle, “Yes, he’s pretty great. You should come to one of my shows then, I’ll send you a ticket.”

You heard Yoongi clear his throat.

“You and Yoongi hyung a ticket, of course,” Taehyung finished, winking at you before turning away to greet Hoseok.

“And, lastly, this is Jeon Jeongguk. He’s the son of one of my father’s friends, so we grew up together,” Yoongi concluded, but Jeongguk interrupted.

“Hi, noona! You look so pretty,” Jeongguk smiled, excitedly hugging you. You laughed in response, patting his back before retorting, “Thanks, you look pretty too.”

Jeongguk pulled away, laughing jovially, “Thanks! I told Yoongi hyung we already talked but I don’t think he believed me.”

You stiffened, glancing at Yoongi, whose face was impassive, “Oh, I see.”

Yoongi stepped forward, blocking Jeongguk from your sight, “And who’s your guest?”

“Oh,” you stuttered, flustered by his closer presence, “This is Hoseok. We met in college, but he lives in Busan now. Well, not for much longer, he’s looking to move here,” you rambled.

Hoseok chuckled before placing a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, I’m Jung Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.”

Both men shook hands before Hoseok returned to your side, “I’ve been by Y/N’s side ever since our first year, it’s a surprise I’ve lasted this long,” he finished with a short laugh.

You elbowed him in the side, only making him grimace and slip his hand down to your waist for a teasing squeeze, “I work a dance studio in Busan but I’m planning on opening my own here.”

“Impressive,” Yoongi stated in a monotone voice, “You two must be close.”

“The closest,” Hoseok grinned, pulling you flush to his side, causing you to struggle, “We’re very familiar.”

Oh no.

That’s Hoseok’s shit-stirring voice, you knew it well. One glance at his sardonic grin had you wrestling out of his grip and trying to move on in the conversation to avoid whatever Hoseok was planning, “Yeah, we and Joohee are all really good friends. We were practically inseparable until Hoseok moved. We should all get lunch together sometime so you can get to know them better.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Yoongi said, almost eerily calm, eyes set on Hoseok’s impish smile.

You deflated at his words, forgetting for a moment that Yoongi didn’t want you to mix personal lives. It was embarrassing to say the least, and you felt like you came off as desperate. You felt yourself curl inwards before muttering a quiet, “Sure.”

Yoongi sent a curt nod in Hoseok’s direction before turning away to return to his own friend group, leaving you flustered and disconcerted next to Hoseok. He grinned triumphantly before noticing your abashed state, quickly pulling you into a soothing hug.

You pulled away, not wanting to be embarrassed anymore tonight, and reached for a passing waiter’s tray of champagne. You didn’t usually drink at public functions, but you felt like this was a worthy exception. The bubbly liquid felt necessary to get through the rest of the night, and you welcomed the warming sensation enthusiastically. You didn’t catch Hoseok’s concerned gaze nor the other stare that fell on your form from a far darker pair of eyes across the table.

You were exhausted. Every limb in your body and your brain itself were screaming out with soreness and fatigue. It felt like a light at the end of a tunnel when guests began filing out and the party came to a close.

You were decently buzzed, but still sober enough to be aware, from the multiple champagne glasses you drank. Joohee had made sure to keep you well hydrated, somewhat numbing the effects of the alcohol on your body.

The rest of the reception had gone by quietly, with you and Yoongi separated for the majority of it, greeting what guests you hadn’t and barely talking during dinner. You were conflicted, somewhat grateful for the ease the lack of Yoongi’s presence gave you, but also finding yourself missing his confident aura.

You waved the last guest out, before letting yourself collapse on a nearby chair. Joohee patted your shoulder and Hoseok wandered off to grab your belongings so that you’d be ready to go. Your mother closed the door to the room before approaching you, Yoongi’s parents in tow.

“Yoongi,” his mother called, pulling him away from his friends who were seated at another table. He approached, arriving at your seat at the same time as your mother.

“You’ll be going home in the car we’ve called for you,” your mother stated, leaving no room for argument. You were going to stay in Yoongi’s apartment now, “I assume your things are already there?”

You nodded timidly.

“Right, well, we’ll leave you to it. Would you like to join me and Woohyun for some drinks,” your mother asked Yoongi’s parents.

“Yes, of course, we’ll have a driver take us to your home. Yoongi, be good now,” his mother said, patting Yoongi’s shoulder and giving you a polite smile. You mustered up what you hoped was a smile in response, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a grimace instead.

Your mother offered you no goodbye and instead gathered your father and gave some closing instructions to the cleaning staff, before swiftly exiting. You were left looking at Yoongi, who was mouthing something to his friends, waiting to see what he would do.

Joohee squeezed your shoulder before leaving you to help Hoseok with your bags. Hoseok didn’t really need help as you didn’t have much except the clothes you’d arrived in and some electronics, but you could tell Joohee wanted to escape the tense atmosphere. You couldn’t blame her.

Yoongi turned toward you, making you stand automatically to meet his gaze, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just,” you started before being interrupted by Hoseok arriving with your bag. You chuckled awkwardly as Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, watching you take the bags from Hoseok. Joohee was next to him, fiddling with her phone in an effort to not engage, you assumed.

“Are you leaving,” Hoseok asked, to which you nodded in response, “Well, have fun. Call me anytime, I’ll always be there.” He pulled you into a hug, making you melt in his embrace. You soon felt Joohee’s arms wrap around you as well, “Me too, we’ll talk later.” They released you before giving you encouraging smiles. You couldn’t say you felt the same level of confidence.

Facing Yoongi, you gathered your bags, noting his one bag at his side, likely containing his suit. He nodded curtly at Hoseok and Joohee, who waved in response, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. You stumbled after him, waving a messy goodbye to Hoseok and Joohee, and finally catching up to Yoongi holding the door open for you. You tried to muster a grateful nod, but seeing his cold expression, you moved quickly to get out the door.

Awaiting your arrival outside was a sleek, black car, with a chauffeur standing patiently holding the door open to the backseat. You took a quick glance at Yoongi, who gestured for you to enter first, so you did, leaving your bags sitting outside. Yoongi climbed in afterward, quietly asking the driver to put the luggage in the trunk. The two of you sat in silence, waiting for the driver to finish packing the luggage away.

It was finally over.

Somehow, it didn’t feel that way. The relief you’d hoped to feel was nowhere to be found and you were left with only the biting anxiety that Yoongi’s silence incited. You played mindlessly with the seams of your hanbok, finding it slightly uncomfortable to sit in the backseat with. Yoongi didn’t seem to share the same discomfort, scrolling idly on his phone and not acknowledging your presence.

You wished you could do the same, but you’d left your phone in your bag after not having used it all day. Instead, you turned to the scenery outside your window to keep yourself occupied. The driver soon started up the car and began heading to Yoongi’s apartment. Watching the scenery fly by gave you time to think about what was waiting for you there.

You hadn’t visited Yoongi’s apartment yet, too afraid and uncomfortable to set foot inside a space so truly and specially his. Most of your things from your own apartment were apparently already set up, courtesy of his maid, Mrs. Lim, whom you had been in contact with when you first dropped off your things. You had been in a rush, trying to get to a dress fitting, and Mrs. Lim had insisted that you give everything to her and that she would make sure it would be ready for you when you came.

You supposed now was that time.

Yoongi was still silent beside you and you weren’t sure what to say to him. You hadn’t really spoken for the rest of the night after his odd introduction to Hoseok. It frustrated you how the little things he was doing kept messing with your head.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew that his actions could point toward jealousy, but you refused to consider that as a possibility. Not only would it contradict his entire attitude towards you, but you couldn’t allow yourself to feel even a sliver of hope that Yoongi might harbor feelings toward you. The constant self-regulation was taxing and you dreaded the idea that this would be your future, constantly reminding yourself that your husband doesn’t love you and to not get confused.

Your thoughts halted with the car as the driver pulled into the entrance of the large building that housed Yoongi’s apartment. It was dark, so you gladly accepted the help of the chauffeur in getting out of the car. He kindly handed you your bags before bowing and driving away. You didn’t have access to the building yet, having called Mrs. Lim for your past visits, so you looked helplessly at Yoongi to unlock the door.

He didn’t spare you a glance as he punched in his code and stood aside to let you in. You nodded in thanks anyway and shivered at the cold nipping at your cheeks. Yoongi led you to the elevator, pressing the 9th-floor button, silently standing in the opposite corner from you.

Sighing internally, you almost laughed at the blatant display of the contempt he held for you. For the first time, you thought of him as slightly immature.

The elevator doors slid open and Yoongi led you to a hallway with only four doors, each housing a penthouse apartment. The farthest door was Yoongi’s, you learned, as he held his thumb up to the pad before hearing a click and pushing the door open. Mrs. Lim was immediately there to greet him.

“Mr. Min, let me take your things. Oh, Ms. Seo! Here, I’ll take your bags to your room. Wait, should I call you Mrs. Min, now?”

You smiled at the sweet, older woman, nodding your greeting, “Hi, Mrs. Lim. Please, just call me Y/N.”

She smiled at you, taking your things and rushing off to the upstairs portion of the apartment. It left you standing awkwardly next to Yoongi, who was typing something out on his phone. You took the moment to let your eyes wander around the sparkling apartment. It looked straight out of a catalogue with cool tones and neat furniture with an open concept. He had smooth, black leather couches surrounding a large TV with a path into a dining room that housed a large table and comfortable-looking chairs. That was next to a large kitchen with a wide counter in the middle and a sleek, silver refrigerator and oven. It looked nice, but not welcoming. You preferred warmer lighting and more touches of color, with some plants, but you reminded yourself that this wasn’t your space to customize.

Or was it? You weren’t really sure. It felt like you were invading Yoongi’s home, but wasn’t it your home now too? Should you be able to decorate it to your liking as well? Or at least compromise? The thought of addressing that now felt too overwhelming and you didn’t want to piss off Yoongi so early into your stay.

“You can go change and get ready to sleep. We can discuss the ground rules now or tomorrow morning, your choice,” Yoongi said, snapping you out of your observation of the apartment.

You nodded absently, wondering what other rules he had, “I can come down after changing.”

Yoongi hummed in response before taking off to the stairs, evidently going to change himself. You stood awkwardly by the entrance, not knowing exactly where your room was, and decided to take hesitant steps toward the stairs.

“Oh, Ms. Seo, let me help you to your room,” came Mrs. Lim’s comforting voice from the top of the stairs. You gratefully accepted her help and followed her through the halls as she gave you a tour.

“Over there is Mr. Min’s office, and just next to it, his bedroom. He has another office downstairs for his work, this one is more for personal use. There’s a bathroom here, but you have an en-suite bathroom in your bedroom anyway. There’s an extra room downstairs that I’ve fashioned into a bit of an office for you if you’d like to use it. That’s the guest bedroom there, the hallway bathroom is mainly for that one. Sometimes Mr. Min’s friends will stay over if they’ve drunk. Ah! Here’s your bedroom.”

You entered, enjoying Mrs. Lim’s chattering as she gave you a mini tour. Your bedroom was large with a queen-sized bed and soft-looking sheets with a fluffy comforter. There was a desk in the corner and a vanity in the other. You noted a door on the side that must lead to the bathroom, and your bags sitting on the floor by the desk.

“Through that door is your closet and bathroom. I’ve set up your closet for the most part and tried to make it homey, but please feel free to decorate it to your liking! I’m so excited to have another woman here long term, Mr. Min doesn’t always make for great company. Oh, but don’t tell him I said that!”

You giggled, enjoying the motherly presence Mrs. Lim provided, and began unpacking some of your bags from the day, “Thank you, Mrs. Lim. I appreciate you doing all this for me. And please, call me Y/N.”

“Of course. Do you need assistance getting out of your hanbok?”

“No, I think I’ll be alright, thank you.”

“Right, then I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be off shift now so I’ll be heading home, but please feel free to call me if you have any questions.”

“Of course, thank you, Mrs. Lim. Have a good night.”

She bowed before exiting and you breathed out, sitting on the plush bed, making the comforter balloon around you. The room was nice, definitely, but it felt a bit stale and unwelcoming. At least you could customize this area without having to worry about Yoongi. You opened the door to the closet, marveling at the size and open entrance into the bathroom with a large tub and shower. Your clothes were nicely organized and you had no trouble finding some pajamas to change into with an old shirt you’d stolen from Hoseok and shorts.

Quickly undressing, you neatly hung up your hanbok and slipped into the shower, grabbing the necessary toiletries from your bag. You relished in being able to wash the hair spray out of your hair and loosen it from your scalp, glaring at the pile of hairpins that sat on the granite counter you’d spent upwards of five minutes removing. The warm water soothed your aching legs and the soapy bodywash felt rejuvenating.

You swiftly finished showering, not wanting to keep Yoongi waiting, and wrapped yourself in a towel before loosely drying your hair. You preferred to let it air dry, so you only lightly patted it with a towel. Drying off the rest of your body, you donned new undergarments, pausing on whether or not to put on a bra. You usually didn’t wear bras to bed, but you didn’t want to go down to meet Yoongi braless.

You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and pulled on a comfortable sports bra, before slipping on your shorts and t-shirt, finally feeling comfortable. Quickly checking your reflection in the massive mirror, you headed down the stairs to meet Yoongi.

He was sitting on the leather couch in a loose white t-shirt and black sweatpants, almost taking your breath away at how beautifully casual he looked. You’d only seen him in suits so far and seeing him in loungewear with wet hair and a towel around his neck left you flustered. He noticed your presence, eyes running over your form making you feel embarrassed.

He gestured for you to join him on the couch, setting aside his phone to lean forward on his knees. You sat on the loveseat across from him, not quite sure what the etiquette was at this point.

“Okay, so I’ve already told you the general rules I have. Basically, don’t enter my space without knocking and please, do not go into my upstairs office. I’ll do the same for you. You’re free to set up your rooms however you like.”

You nodded, all of this seemed pretty fair so far.

“You can use the kitchen however you like, just let Mrs. Lim know what groceries you want. If I have guests over, I’d prefer if you stayed in your room, but I won’t force you. This space is as much yours as it is mine, now.”

You continued nodding along, making some notes of getting a TV for your room so you could properly entertain yourself when his friends were over. You wouldn’t exactly want him coming into the room when you’re with Hoseok and Joohee either.

“You can invite your friends over whenever you want, just let me know in advance. I’ll be sure to do the same for you. Also, if I have any of my own partners over,” he continued, the last words causing you to flinch, “I’ll make sure to let you know. Please just give us some privacy and try not to be out in the common space when they’re here. Of course, I’ll extend the same courtesy.”

The harsh reminder of the openness of the marriage left you squirming in the chair. You didn’t want to remember that Yoongi would be fucking other people in the home you shared.

“We can add things as we get used to living together. Anything you want to add?”

You shook your head quickly, just wanting to go to bed as soon as possible. Yoongi nodded, rising, before sparing you one last glance.

“Alright, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight,” you squeaked, watching him ascend the stairs. After his form disappeared into the hallway, you leaned back on the loveseat, exhaling harshly. What a conversation. You’d have to take some time to get used to this. You returned to your room feeling heavily conflicted. As you set up your phone and watch chargers, you thought over the conversation.

Objectively, Yoongi was being relatively fair, letting you exist in the space in the same capacity as him. Yet, you still felt unhappy. You knew why. You wanted him to be only yours, to have the same exclusive outlook you did on the relationship. You were upset with yourself more than him.

He had made this clear from the beginning, that he had no intention of stopping any partners outside of the relationship. He clearly didn’t want to have a relationship with you, sex or not, so what he was doing now was completely fair.

You couldn’t turn the emotional part of your brain that craved to have a real romantic relationship with him. It was almost annoying and you were frustrated at yourself for continuing to feel this way.

Climbing into bed, you continued wallowing, deciding that you’d pity yourself tonight, but the next day, you’d have to pull yourself together. You’d taken a couple of weeks off at the insistence of your boss, even though he knew you weren’t going on a honeymoon, and you wanted to enjoy sleeping in.

It was time to adopt Yoongi’s approach and try to remove yourself emotionally from the situation. How hard could it be?

Yoongi couldn’t focus on his book, ultimately setting it aside on his bedside table. He furiously rubbed at his eyes, feeling frustrated.

His eyes hadn’t been listening to him lately. They seemed to constantly wander after your figure, finding your face and curves at every corner. The past couple of days, they had barely strayed from you, watching as you cuddled up to that man, Hoseok.

Who was he? Were you two together? Was Hoseok in love with you? More importantly, why did it bother Yoongi so much?

He groaned, feeling annoyed that your relationship with Hoseok was getting to him so much. He had been the one to set the boundary of it being an open relationship, so why did it bother him so much that you seemed to be employing that? Yoongi knew that he had no right to feel this way and was only further annoyed that he continued to do so.

And what was with your budding friendship with Jeongguk? When did you two become so close? Yoongi buried his head in his hands, shouldn’t he be happy that his friends and wife are getting along?

Wife. It felt odd to say, or think, that. You were his wife now. Except he’d made it clear that the title didn’t change anything between you, nor would it change his actions. Despite his earlier resolve to not let this marriage affect him, you seemed to be having a great effect on him.

He’d followed your form and mannerisms throughout the past couple of days. He’d noticed your trembling hands and avoiding eye contact. When the two of you had been about to kiss, he could feel your body shaking beneath his hands, prompting him to cover your mouth for the kiss.

He hated how tempted he’d been to fully kiss you.

Throughout the rest of the ceremony and reception, you’d been largely withdrawn, until you’d met with Hoseok. Yoongi was frustrated that you didn’t seem to be able to stand up for yourself, that you played so well into the role of a trophy wife, but he’d been even more upset at your close contact with Hoseok.

The man had laid his hands on you so easily and seeing the way Hoseok’s fingers curled around your waist and your smile when you talked to him made Yoongi’s blood boil. Why hadn’t you smiled at him like that?

Yoongi bit his lip, he knew that wasn’t your fault. He hadn’t been welcoming at all to you, he’d barely given you a chance to talk to him. Yoongi was just steadfast in his mission to continue on with life as normal, he didn’t want this marriage to change anything. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to be upset with you going along with his requests.

You were dangerous.

You were dangerous in the way that you nodded along to everything Yoongi asked, in the way you refused to let your mask slip and show any emotion, in the way you smiled so brightly with Hoseok and Jeongguk, in the way your cheeks tinged pink when Taehyung kissed your hand and Namjoon smiled at you, and in the way you looked so comfortable and natural in your pajamas.

Yoongi had to suck in a breath when he saw you entering the living room with your freshly washed and damp hair, falling in wet curls strands around your shoulders, making a wet spot on the oversized dance team t-shirt.

That was another thing. Where had you gotten that shirt? It was far too big for you, Yoongi knew that well. It was obvious in the way it fell past the hem of your shorts, tantalizing his eyes to rake down your legs, and it was for a college dance team. Were you on one in college?

Or, Yoongi’s mind raced, was it Hoseok’s? Hadn’t the man said he worked in a dance studio? The thought made Yoongi fume, just how close had you two gotten?

But he paused, what right did he have to feel upset? Yoongi had been in bed with another woman just days ago, it wasn’t fair of him to judge you for doing the same. He’d said that you were allowed to sleep with or date whoever you wanted, so why was he so angry at the idea of you and Hoseok?

Another sigh escaped him, he didn’t have it in him to deal with this tonight. Just the idea of you a few rooms down in that too-big shirt and too-short shorts was enough to drive him crazy.

He reached over, turning off the lamp next to his bed. He’d unpack his feelings in the morning. Yoongi turned over, settling into bed, ignoring how empty and cold his hand felt without your warmth.

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 year

Text

le marquis et le moineau

Marquis de Gramont x f!reader

themes: angst, twisted business associates(?) to lovers, dubious morals, the Marquis has his eyes set on you and only you (but you don't know that ofc)

a/n: this bloody Frenchman has been plaguing my thoughts (thanks to a very sinister portrayal by one Bill Skarsgård). Mind you, I still haven't even seen the film John Wick 4, but I'm a fan of the series, and the morsels I've seen of the Marquis have been more than enough to give rise to a new lil fixation.

word count: 932 ▪︎ more of moineau ▪︎ other works

It started as a little game.

Just some passing fancy between yourself and the Marquis.

Or at least, that was what it was supposed to remain. Only that. A game.

But you should have known better. You should have known that any game played with Marquis Vincent de Gramont may eventually turn deadly.

Your high-risk job at the Continental usually also reaped the highest of rewards.

Tip off the right person and receive a gold coin. Deliver a message, without any bumps or bruises to all parties involved, and your reputation would be given a much-needed boost or two.

This business was danger wrapped in deceit wrapped in glamour. And you knew how to deal the right cards.

Although it seems, things are not as easy when it comes to the Marquis.

Vincent was every bit a menace as his reputation decreed. The Marquis tasked with restoring the authority of the High Table, he was nothing short of cunning and ambitious, prepared to take down any and all those who posed a threat to his objectives.

Dangerous. Deceptive. Glamourous as well, mind you. He was perfectly suited to this world.

He was also brazen, pretentious, snobbish.

And beautiful.

He knew just how to tug at your strings and make you bend. Or at least, he always tried to.

Like he was doing then, in one of the bigger rooms in his palacial estate, wherein only the two of you stood with only a few feet in between.

"What did we agree upon, mon moineau?" His silky accented voice implored.

My sparrow, he called you. The reason for which remained undisclosed to you, not for a lack of trying to wrench it out of him.

Why couldn't he call you something sweeter? Of the more classic French romantic sobriquets?

Chérie, perhaps. Mon amour. Mon coeur.

But no. You were stuck with measly ol' "my sparrow".

Of course, not that it mattered. Perhaps the Marquis reserved his sweeter words for those he actually cared for. At the very least, well-regarded enough to be associated with. Those impossibly beautiful and refined members of European aristocracy that he was so often rumoured to be wining and dining.

Unlike you. Renegade, foul-mouthed vagabond.

You stared up at his pacing figure. "I am fully aware of what we agreed upon, Vincent. What I have done does not breach that. I am perfectly capable - "

His head snapped to you menacingly. "You could have been killed, moineau."

You shrugged. "Consequences. I did not enter this damned line of work without considering the risks. As it goes, getting killed would not exactly be an uncommon occurence."

"Don't jest." He shut his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose, in obvious annoyance.

You took a step forward, trying to find his gaze. "And if I were to... pass... so what? Everything would simply go on. The truth is that I'm already a ghost. Doing what I do in our world makes me some kind of spectre. I am already not there."

You knew this. You repeated this to yourself when you woke, and before you went to sleep. It was the only truth you could hold on to.

Until him. Until some buried, twisted part of you began hoping that he would care.

But hope is a dangerous thing.

You continued, as he kept looking away. "You would go on. Perhaps even find a new sparrow to play with."

You felt it. As your words hung in the air, his entire mood shifted. He straightened, and with both hands burrowed in the pockets of his impeccably tailored trousers, his eyes land on you.

He slowly took a step forward, and then another, until his figure loomed over you.

In all your shared moments, you learned to discern the quick switches in his temper and his expression. But not enough, not completely.

The look he was giving you then was impossible to read.

"You think..." His left hand drifted to the hem of your blazer, toying with it. "... that I..." His index finger then drifted upward over your silk shirt, stopping in between your collarbones. His tongue briefly darted out to wet his lips, catching your eye. "... would simply replace you?"

You finally felt his touch on your face, his fingers delicately caressing your jawline.

He made a fleeting tsk tsk sound with his tongue, as if in disapproval.

"I believe you underestimate just how much you matter to me, mon moineau."

You did your best to remain unfazed. This was the game, wasn't it? Whatever you might think it can become, what you hope it can unravel into - set it aside as delusion.

Don't fall.

It's just a game to play.

Don't fall.

You took a deep breath, then smiled sweetly. Mockingly. "What makes you think I would even pay any mind to how much I matter to you? That line of thinking doesn't work for people like us, Marquis."

"People like us," he repeated, amusement furrowing his brow. "Non, mon moineau. There are no other people like us."

He leaned in, eyes not leaving yours, all but eliminating the distance between your faces. You could feel his breath on your skin, could count the faint spotting of freckles around his nose.

You wished to ask him what he wanted, but held back.

No. There was something better to say.

"What are you waiting for?" You managed to voice the words despite your very heart lodged in your throat.

He smiled, proud of his precious sparrow.

"Mon coeur... I've been waiting for you my entire life."

Ahhh! 🖤 Everybody say thank you Bill Skarsgård and the on-set stylist for the visual treat that is the Marquis.

I'm not even sure if this will find the right crowd - seeing as my lovely followers are of the HotD persuasion. But oh well, I had to get it out of my system.

Could be more of this... idk 🤷‍♀️ Rest assured I haven't forgetten about all my series works, even the ones I haven't started but said I would do...

#marquis de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #vincent de gramont #john wick #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont imagine #bill skargard #bill skarsgard x reader #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #bill skarsgard imagine #john wick 4 #marquis vincent de gramont imagine #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård x reader #vincent de gramont x reader

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dragonmama76 · 9 months

Text

Beginnings

Part One Interlude Part Two Part Three

As Eddie held the broken bottle against Steve’s neck, Steve was preternaturally calm. If asked, he would explain that he had been expecting this for years. Today was the day that Eddie Munson was finally going to kill him. He had fought monsters human and decidedly not human, but he always knew deep down that Eddie Munson would be the one to finally end it all.

*****************

Eddie Munson was a late bloomer and spent his freshman year scrawny and shy. It didn’t help that he was into all kinds of nerd stuff and got bullied relentlessly. He fancied himself a keen observer of people, though, and over the summer he plotted out a multi step plan to survive high school like it was one of the Dungeons & Dragons campaigns he loved to create.

First, he spent the summer getting stronger. He didn’t work out exactly, but he was able to get a summer job as a house painter and by the end he was hauling paint cans up and down ladders like it was nothing. It also didn’t hurt that puberty finally kicked in and he grew almost a foot.

Next, he used his newfound cash to update his wardrobe. Instead of trying to compete with the preppy jocks who tormented him, he went the other way. He scoured the thrift shops for as much black as he could find and rounded it out with t-shirts from his favorite metal bands. Black work boots, chains, and a pocket knife became his standard accessories and when Wayne took him to Indy before the start of school he scored a black leather jacket at a nicer second hand store. Freshman orientation was coming and it would be time to put the final parts of his plan into motion.

The day the freshman came to tour the high school and get their schedules, Eddie was ready. He leaned against a tree watching the new kids coming and going. There were a few he clocked as fellow outcasts and nerds and took note. He would approach them carefully when school started for real. But at that moment he was waiting for something special. And then it happened. A group of three teens made their way to the gym doors, two boys and a girl, dressed like money grew on trees. One of the boys was taller, more confident, with impeccably styled hair, and best of all, he carried a basketball like he knew what to do with it. Target acquired.

Steve Harrington’s stomach was all tied up in knots. He was nervous to be finally starting high school. Tommy H. and Carol were chattering away but he couldn’t even hear them over the sound of his racing thoughts. His dad had made it clear what he expected from Steve’s high school career and what the consequences would be if he didn’t follow through. He doesn’t know what the hell he is doing, but at least maybe if followed his dad’s plan he would finally be proud of him. So he kept his head held high and imagined himself to be that guy. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? As he reached the gym door he felt eyes on him and glanced over to see the prettiest guy he had ever seen watching him. As their eyes met, the boy scowled at him. Steve winced and stumbled through the door. What could he possibly have done to piss that guy off already? “Not a good start, Steve,” he thought as the trio entered the school.

Steve’s first few weeks of high school would have been pretty great if it wasn’t for his personal bully. He landed a spot on the varsity basketball team, his teachers were nice enough to explain things twice if he had a question, and even though Tommy H. and Carol were officially dating now, they still included him in almost everything they did. But when he was walking by himself in the halls, that older kid was always there either glaring or smirking at him. He actually outright tripped him twice, once into a row of lockers. Steve apologized at first, thinking maybe he had been at fault for bumping into him or something, but the guy had laughed at him and made some comment about dumb jocks better watch out. Steve didn’t want to push back. No matter what personal philosophy his dad ascribed to, Steve didn’t think violence was the answer. He quickly figured out that the guy only seemed to target him when he was alone, though, so Steve started asking some of the girls in his classes if he could walk them to their next class. They seemed to like that, and Steve was getting tired of being a third wheel all the time, so he asked a few out on double dates with his friends. At least his dad would be happy, Steve was already getting a reputation as a ladies man.

Eddie was having the best year ever. Training this jock to be afraid of him, instead of the other way around, was a treat. Eddie wasn’t a bad kid. If anyone had called him out on bullying he would have been shocked. This was a preemptive strike. This was the ultimate battle of nerd versus jock. This was war. And Eddie was winning. You didn’t have to be a genius to see that this Steve kid was asking for it. His attitude, his clothes, his HAIR, and his, not at all surprising to Eddie, wild success with the female population of Hawkins High all confirmed that he needed to be taken down a peg. And in the meantime, Eddie had gathered a crew of freshman nerds to spend time with and mold in his image. He only needed one more element to complete his campaign against the jocks of Hawkins: A public confrontation.

Steve was starting to become complacent. His plan to never be alone was working and while the scary kid following him around continued to make his presence known, at least he wasn’t pushing him anymore. So he thought. Except one afternoon in the cafeteria Steve’s luck ran out. He had been balancing his tray on one hand while escorting his most recent conquest with the other when something slammed into him upending the tray of spaghetti. Tears filled his eyes as the noise around him dimmed. Why was this happening to him? He tried to be nice to everyone. He didn’t start fights or talk shit about people, even when Carol was at her bitchiest. Why couldn’t he just fly under the radar? As he looked up to see all eyes on him, the only noise that registered was the loud cackle from the boy next to him. “I thought you jocks had better balance than that,” sneered his bully. All the blood in his body seemed to rush to his head and he tried to stay calm, but when he glanced over and saw Lila covered in sauce something snapped.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Steve shouted.

“Me?” challenged the boy, “Not my fault you’re as clumsy as all get out.”

Steve didn’t like to fight, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t. He pushed the taller boy and advanced on him fists clenched tight. When he got close, a low voice rumbled, “I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” as the kid opened his jacket to reveal a knife clenched in his other hand. Steve’s eyes were wide as he backed away. “You’re a fucking freak, you know that? Leave me alone! And leave my friends alone!” Steve was just posturing at this point, but he kept a healthy distance between them since he sure as hell wasn’t getting in a knife fight, even if they were surrounded by spectators.

“I AM a freak, and don’t any of you forget it!” the boy shouted, “And you’d better be afraid if you know what’s good for you.”

Just then the doors opened and the vice principal walked in.

“Problems?” he demanded sternly.

“No, sir,” Steve backed down completely. “No problems here.”

“What about you, Munson?” a steely glare was directed at his adversary.

“No problemo. I was just apologizing to King Steve here for bumping into him.” The boys separated and Steve escorted Lila to their table, offering to grab extra napkins and helping to calm her down.

“Nice going, King Steve,” Tommy H. cackled as they sat down. “Have you ever, just once, won a fight?”

“Shut it, Tommy.” Steve replied, “You didn’t see it. That freak actually had a knife. Stay away from him, he’s crazy and I dunno why but he hates me.” No one commented when his voice broke at those last words. “I think you were very brave,” whispered Lila and Steve suddenly felt a little better.

While Steve had beat a hasty retreat, Eddie sauntered over to his usual lunch table with his freshman friends and held his head high. He could feel the guarded looks and shot a feral grin to a group of kids who dared make eye contact. It was the best day of Eddie’s life so far. He had sealed his reputation as a dangerous freak and he intended to own it every day for the rest of high school. It would keep his little nerds and outcasts safe, even if he had to keep up the act for the next few years.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #part one?#let me know if I should keep going for part two

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jeankluv · 2 months

Text

Birdie | Satoru Gojo - Chapter 01

Words: 4.8k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

Note: divider art credit _3aem (twt)

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Slow updates

Materialist | next chapter

Wattpad | ao3

While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as "hate" carried significant weight; rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.

Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

“We will divide the project in two.” You said looking at the information the teacher gave you. “So we can work on it separately and once we are done we will put it together.” You didn’t like the idea but you disliked even more the idea of spending time outside the class with him.

“That wouldn’t work out, it’s better if we schedule a time to meet and we start working on it.” Gojo talked.

“No.” You said. “I’m way too busy to think about meeting outside of classes.” And it was true, you were working in two different jobs to pay the bills of college and the tiny apartment you were staying on.

“Oh c’mon!” He pouted. “It’s impossible that you are busy every day of the week at every hour.”

“Well I am.” You were starting to get angry, couldn’t he understand you didn’t want to meet with him.

The ring rang and you thanked it, it was time to leave for another class, one you wouldn’t have to see the perfect face of Satoru Gojo.

“Wait! How do we stay in contact?” Gojo spoke when you were about to leave the classroom. You could feel the gaze of a group of girl right on your neck.

“With the email.”

“C’mon.” He said your name. “Give me your number.”

“No and now leave me. I need to get to my class.”

You walked past the group of girls that were chatting obviously about the scene that just happened.

“How can she be so rude with Satoru?”

“Yeah who does she think she is? Does she even know who Satoru is?”

“She is such a loser.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Of course, you were well aware of who he was - everyone knew him. A pampered child from a wealthy family, born into privilege and affluence, often referred to as an “old money baby”. He had everything handed to him on a silver platter - impeccable looks, tall, athletic, and intelligence. For many, he embodied the epitome of perfection. However, for you, he was nothing more than an insufferable jerk whom you couldn't stand.

On the flip side, you were the complete opposite of him. Life hadn't dealt you a fair hand - you struggled to make ends meet. When your mother passed away when you were just six, and your father vanished after hearing news of her pregnancy. Left with no one but your grandmother, you found solace in her loving care. However, as time marched on, you were once again confronted with loneliness when she passed away when you were just 16. With only a meager inheritance from your grandmother and the income from your job at a local store, you barely scraped by until the age of 18. Thankfully, your relentless dedication to your studies paid off when you earned a scholarship to attend the University of Tokyo.

Even though you got into a good college on the degree you wanted, your life in Tokyo hasn’t been quite easy. You were living in a tiny apartment, going to college and working two jobs because it would be impossible to make it to the end of the month with just one job. Luckily, the scholarship covered all my college expenses, but living in Tokyo wasn't exactly easy on the wallet. I found myself navigating life in the bustling city all on my own.

But your aversion towards Gojo Satoru began two years ago, on the first day of college. Rushing late after exhausting yourself at work, you collided with him, causing you to stumble to the ground. Prepared to offer an apology, you were met with his irate ranting, delivered without even a glance in your direction. Had you not been humiliated on the ground, you might have slapped some sense into him right then and there. Why was he so infuriated when he was clearly the one at fault? And the fact that he couldn't even look at you added insult to injury. Frustrated and embarrassed, you left before he could utter another word; you had no desire to hear anything further from him.

The true agony hit when you discovered he would be sharing classes with you. From then on, you made every effort to steer clear of him and his foolishness. However, it seemed everyone in your class, and even in other majors, adored him. The teachers showered him with praise because everything he touched turned to gold. Despite being at the university for two years, you had never managed to outperform his grades, and it infuriated you beyond measure.

For the past two years, you had been lucky enough to avoid partnering with him. However, it appeared that luck had finally abandoned you, and now you were destined to endure his company for the next three months.

You sat on the seat you would normally choose and took out the notebook to take notes of the next class.

“I heard you got assigned with Satoru Gojo in one of your classes.” You heard a voice next to you which made you jump.

“Kyoko… don’t scare me like that.” You cried while putting your hand on your chest trying to calm down. “How did you find out?”

“Well, everyone was talking about how a girl who got paired with the great Satoru Gojo was so rude to him and how she should be more grateful for this glorious opportunity.” You rolled your eyes.

“I might throw myself out of the window…” You leaned your head against the table and closed your eyes. “Three months Kyoko, three months.”

“I know…you know that you can talk to me if he does anything to bother you.”

“Thank you, you’re the best Kyoko.”

She smiled warmly at you, and together you turned your attention to the class. You had met Kyoko on the same day as your initial encounter with Gojo Satoru. Sitting together in one of the classes, an instant connection formed between you two, and from that moment onward, you were inseparable. Kyoko brought a brightness into your life like a ray of sunshine piercing through clouds. On the first Christmas when she discovered you would be spending it alone in your apartment, she whisked you away to her home, where you celebrated with her and her parents. Since then, Kyoko's parents had filled the void of the parents you had dearly missed, and Kyoko herself had become the sister you had always longed for.

The class was over before you knew it. Your hands hurt after taking notes non-stop and your head felt like it was about to explode after barely sleeping last night.

“Do you have time to eat with me? Or you have to go to the grocery store already?” Kyoko stood besides you while walking in the corridor.

“Today I can eat with you. My shift doesn’t start until 3 p.m. so it’s alright.”

Kyoko looked at you with concerned eyes. “Are you sure you are properly resting? You look tired and the grocery store job is okay, but I’m worried about you working on that bar at nights.”

You sighed, she was right the bar was an unpleasant place, most of those who went were men in their 40s or 50s who left their offices and spent the night drinking until they fell at the bar counter, while making obscene comments. But they paid well and the money was something I desperately needed.

You smiled at her. “I will be alright. Don’t worry.”

“You know you can always come to life with me, I know my parents wouldn’t bother taking you in. And if you feel like it would be too much, you could always pay something but then you could quit that crappy job and just work at the grocery store.”

“Kyoko… we already talked about it. I appreciate you and your parents' good heart and intentions but I can handle everything.” She nodded. “And I know I can always count on you.”

“Always.” And she held you from the arm. “Now let’s go and eat something. My treat.” You were about to protest when Kyoko cut you off. “No excuses, you deserve me to invite you especially because my poor best friend is going to have to put up with her least favorite person in the world for three months.”

“Ugh!” You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t remind me of that.”

Both of you laughed and made your way straight to the cafeteria, your stomachs growling with hunger. You had only managed to gulp down a coffee that morning to wake up, and now you were convinced you could devour the entire menu. Taking your usual seats at the table, Kyoko headed to order your food. The cafeteria buzzed with activity, students weaving in and out while conversations filled the air. You glanced at your phone, hoping for some notifications, but all you found were promotional emails from the supermarket.

Kyoko returned with the food, setting it down in front of you, and you delved into a conversation about Kyoko's recent date. It seemed the boy had shown a keen interest in her, but your friend hadn't felt the same way about him. Being the kind-hearted person she was, Kyoko struggled with how to gently let him know she wasn't interested in continuing to see him.

“Oh shit…” Kyoko whispered.

“What?”

“Don’t turn around but I think a certain someone is coming here.” Your eyebrow arched and you clenched your fists.

“Tell me that the certain someone doesn’t have white hair…” Kyoko grimaced and by the time you wanted to say something, the person responsible for your headache at that very moment had sat down next to you.

“Hello ladies!!” He talked with the happiest tone. He called your name but you ignored him, you didn’t want to interact with him, not even a bit. “I don’t think we know each other. I’m Satoru Gojo.” He talked to Kyoko.

“Kyoko. And we actually share a class together.”

“Oh! We do? Sorry I can’t remember it. But it is nice to meet you, Kyoko.”

“Satoru…” Another male voice spoke behind you. Your head was really going to explode.

“Oh Suguru! Come here!” He moved his hand, pointing at the seat next to Kyoko.

“Satoru… why don’t you leave the girls eating alone.” The boy of dark hair looked at his friend and then at both of you. “I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s okay, don't worry.” Kyoko smiled back at him.

“Come on Suguru! Let’s eat with them… I need to spend more time with my classmate, right birdie?” You looked at him.

“Who are you calling birdie?” You were angry, why was he giving you nicknames like you have known each other for years or like you were close.

“Oh so now you pay attention to me…” He smirked and tilted his head as he rested it on his hand and looked at you.

You snorted and pushed the plate away. “Kyoko, I have to go or I'll be late.” You said goodbye to Gojo's friend, who you assumed was called Suguru, and ignored Gojo.

“Take care.” You heard Kyoko. “And sent me a message once you arrived home from the bar!” You gave her a thumbs up and left the cafeteria.

You felt uneasy. What was Gojo Satoru playing at, giving you a nickname? And that look he just gave you—what was that about? You couldn't stand it. Sinking into your seat on the bus, you put on your headphones, seeking a brief respite before reaching your workplace. You were scheduled to work for five hours, followed by a rush to the bar, where you'd likely be working until 2 a.m., if luck was on your side.

As your eyelids grew heavy, you recognized the familiar streets passing by. With just a few stops left until your destination, you stretched out in your seat and rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the fatigue.

You got out of the bus and walked a few steps until you reached the small grocery store where you work. You still had 5 minutes left to work but between changing and preparing everything the time would arrive. You greeted Yu who was behind the counter serving a customer and went to the employee room at the back.

“You are early.” Haibara entered the room.

“I’m 5 minutes earlier… is not THAT early.” You smiled at him.

“You know you can always take the day off and rest. I can cover you if you need it, you look so tired.”

“I’m okay but thank you Haibara.”

“Okay! Then if you are taking my place I will get going. A friend of mine is waiting for me.” You nodded. “Call me if you need anything.”

You waved goodbye to him and observed as he rendezvoused with a tall blonde guy outside the store, someone you vaguely recognized from campus. Throughout the afternoon, several children trickled in to purchase trinkets, occasionally accompanied by adults picking up a few items. The day had been relatively quiet, affording you the opportunity to jot down some notes and review your studies.

As closing time approached, the sliding door chimed open once more, signaling the arrival of another customer. However, you were preoccupied assisting a lady who was meticulously counting the coins needed to pay for her purchase.

“Thank you so much darling.” She said once you were done with her. “Have a nice night.”

“Thanks to you! And please come here again.”

“Hello birdie!” Your mouth opened slightly when you saw who was waiting to be served and the last customer of the day.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You screamed angrily.

He looked down and moved the bottle he was holding. “Buying something to drink.” He smiled, showing his perfect smile.

“Here?” He nodded. “In this grocery store?” He nodded again. “Of this unknown neighborhood?” He nodded once again. “Gojo…” You touched your head, closing your eyes. “I don’t know what you want or your intentions but don’t you dare bother me anymore.”

“I already told you birdie I’m here, to buy this.” He put the bottle in front of you.

“There you have it. Now, bye.” You turned around and started cleaning some things that were around. It was time to close and you needed to hurry up to got to the bar.

You picked up and changed into the clothes you had come in. For a moment you had to lean against the wall, for an hour or so you had been dizzy and nauseous, but you couldn't allow yourself to be absent. You turned off the lights and closed the grocery store.

“What are you still doing here?” You turned around to look at Gojo who was right in front of the shop.

He walked smiling towards you. “Waiting for you.”

You rolled your eyes, couldn’t he understand you or something. “Well, I don’t want you to be waiting for me. So now… BYE!” And you started moving towards the bar.

“Oh c’mon.” He said your name this time. “Let me accompany you to your house or at least near it. It’s not good for a girl to…”

“Are you a stalker?” Gojo opened his mouth. “And I’m not going home, I need to get to work and because of you I might be late.”

“Work? But you just get out of it.” He walked next to you. “Why would you have two works…”

“Listen Gojo! Not everyone is born on a silver spoon. Some of us have to work our asses out to get the things we want.” You were tired. “You are lucky your parents probably get you everything they want for you but not everyone is that lucky.”

“You’re pale. Are you okay?” You certainly weren’t, but you couldn't afford to be, you had to go to work. “Oh shit! You might have a fever.” His hand was on your forehead, wait when did he get that close?

“Leave me…” Everything was spinning around.

“Hey!” You felt how Gojo held you, preventing you from falling to the ground, and then everything went black.

You weren't certain how long you had been unconscious, but it was certainly for a considerable amount of time. As you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself surrounded by darkness, with only a faint glow of outside light seeping into the room. Despite the dimness, you were able to swiftly recognize your surroundings. You were in Kyoko's room, but how had you ended up there? The last memory you could recall was being with Gojo before blacking out.

“Kyoko?” You whispered. You were confused and still feeling sick.

You saw how a silhouette moved to grab something from the table and then a light from the cell phone illuminated the room.

Kyoko whispered your name. “How are you feeling?”

“Still dizzy…” You touched your head. “How did I get here?”

“Satoru called me.” You looked at her confused, since when she called him Satoru and since when did she have his number. “Don’t look at me like that, when you left I stayed with him and with his friend, Suguru and they are pretty nice guys.” You rolled your eyes. “And his friend is pretty cute.”

“Kyoko…”

“What? It’s true, he was so polite and nice and did you know he studies…”

“Do you like him?”

“I mean… it’s early to say that but I would love to go out with him sometime.” Your friend smiled.

“You remember that there is a guy still waiting for an answer from you right?”

Kyoko pouted. “I know… I will let him know I’m not interested, because it’s true I’m not.”

“Good…”

“But now to what is important.” Oh here it came. “What would you have done if Satoru wasn’t there when you fainted?”

“I… it was just a coincidence. I was totally find this morning.”

Kyoko said your name heavily. “How much have you slept this week? And be honest with me.”

You thought for a moment. “5 hours…”

“That’s not bad, I thought you were going to say something like 2 hours.”

“In the last 3 days…”

Kyoko opened her mouth, letting a gasp out. “Are you insane? You want to die or something?”

“Sorry! But college and the jobs… the jobs, my shift on the bar…”

“Relax. I called them and told them you were sick after Satoru called me.” You breathed in relief. “But don’t try to change the topic. 5 hours in 3 days?! That’s inhuman and you can’t keep going like this.”

“And what do I do Kyoko?” You pulled the sheets up to your face.

“Stay here… we have a spare room, you can stay there.” You growled, Kyoko knew that was too much. Even if you were her best friend, you were still someone from outside the family. “You can pay a minimum if that will make you feel better, but if you stay here you wouldn’t have to pay the rent you are paying right now and you wouldn’t have to work at that shitty bar.”

“I… I will think about it okay…” Kyoko nodded.

“Now go back to sleep.”

“Okay…” You closed your eyes.

“And by the way.” Kyoko spoke again. “Start thinking what you are going to say to Satoru, you throw up on him.”

“I… WHAT?” Your eyes opened like plates.

“Good night~”

“No Kyoko, tell me! What do you mean I threw up on Gojo?” You cried.

“Go to sleep.”

You groaned, feeling utterly mortified at the thought of having thrown up on Gojo. This was beyond embarrassing—how were you supposed to face him and apologize for such a humiliating incident? The desire to vanish into thin air consumed you. Your head spun with the aftermath of the situation, and before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

Upon waking up again, you sensed that several hours had passed; sunlight now flooded through the window, illuminating the room entirely. Kyoko was nowhere to be seen, and you sat up in bed, stretching your stiff body. You felt utterly filthy after experiencing fever and vomiting; a shower was desperately needed.

Searching for your phone to check the time, you discovered several messages awaiting your attention—some from Kyoko and others from an unknown number.

Kyoko ☀️

Rest as much as you want. My mom left you food prepared in the kitchen but you will be alone for most of the day.

You can take my clothes if you want.

And don’t worry about the classes I will take the notes for you.

And by the way, I’m sorry and I love you 😘

Sorry? For what? You tapped on the unknown number and then you understood why she was sorry.

xxxx

Hellooooo birdie !!

Kyoko gave me your number, don’t get angry at her.

I hope you feel better soon

You clenched your fists and sighed, now you would have to endure it because of your cell phone too.

You to Kyoko ☀️

You should be grateful I love you so much and I won’t kill you.

And thanks, I will be taking a shower and do you mind if I take one of your pajamas?

Kyoko ☀️

Everything that’s mine is yours 😘

You rolled your eyes at your friend. And opened once again the chat of Gojo. How should you respond to him? Should you apologize for throwing up at him? Should you just be as cold as always? The guy was messaging you after you fainted and threw up on him, he didn’t deserve to be treated coldly although you wanted to.

You to Pain in the ass

Hi. I’m good

Thanks for yesterday and sorry for what happened…

Also stop calling me birdie, people would think we are close or something

Leaving your phone on the table, you grabbed one of Kyoko's pajamas and made your way to the bathroom. Compared to a few hours ago, you felt significantly better; the fever seemed to have subsided or at least diminished in intensity. After a refreshing shower, you changed into the pajamas and headed to the kitchen.

True to Kyoko's word, her mother had left a plate of food prepared for you. Grateful for the gesture, you sat down to enjoy the meal. Retrieving your phone once more, you noticed two notifications, which came as a surprise—they were not the usual supermarket offers.

Pain in the ass

Don’t worry about it, I’m glad to hear you are okay

*This message was deleted*

What did he send and delete after?

Pain in the ass

Since you are sick we decided to accompany Kyoko for lunch!

And there was a picture of Kyoko with Gojo and two other people, the guy from yesterday, Suguru and another girl you didn’t know about. Kyoko was smiling and doing the peace sign next to Suguru, while Gojo was the one taking the selfie and showing off his perfect teeth.

You to Pain in the ass

You better treat Kyoko right, or you will hear from me once I’m back at class.

It was hard to believe you were talking so casually with him. You shook your head, talking like that on the phone was just a way of being polite with him, nothing else.

Pain in the ass

If that way I get you to talk to me

You stayed looking at the message for a couple of minutes. Something on your stomach was moving. Stupid Satoru Gojo.

You to Pain in the ass

By the way, do I need to pay you something… for you know…

Pain in the ass

For what?

You to Pain in the ass

Don’t make me say it, it’s way too embarrassing.

Pain in the ass

If you don’t tell me what I won’t know 🤷

You to Pain in the ass

Throwing up on you!

Do I need to pay for something? Like dry cleaning or something?

Pain in the ass

Hehe

You wanted to punch him, he obviously knew.

Pain in the ass

Nop, you don’t need to pay anything. Don’t worry 😉

You to Pain in the ass

Okay, now I will leave to sleep

Don’t bother me Gojo!

Pain in the ass

Alright birdie!!

Rest well. I don’t want you throwing up and fainting in the arms of other people

You to Pain in the ass

Say something like that again and I’m blocking you

Pain in the ass

🥺

You rolled your eyes and left the phone once again. He really was a pain in the ass. You went to Kyoko’s room and lay down on her bed, although you were feeling better, you were still feeling tired, so you decided to sleep for a bit more, at least until Kyoko returned home.

You heard a door close and someone walk down the hall in silence. You knew it was Kyoko when she entered the room. She walked up to you and you smiled at her when your eyes met.

“You look better.”

“I feel better.” You say stretching on yourself. “I feel like I have slept everything I haven’t slept in a month.” You looked at Kyoko and she was doing a grimace of disgust. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Have you thought about it? About moving here?”

You did. You thought about it a lot, but you couldn't deny that you were at a point where if you continued at that pace you would end up killing yourself.

“I will.” Kyoko screamed with happiness. “But only if your parents are okay with it.”

“And they are! Don’t worry.” She started clapping and jumped out of bed with happiness. “By the way, I’m surprised you met Satoru yesterday at the grocery store.”

You looked at her strangely. “Didn't you tell her where she worked?” Kyoko shook her head.

And then it hit you, you haven't told Haibara that you would not be going to work today, he would probably be covering for you and you would have to tell him.

“Shit… Where is my phone?” You looked around.

“Who is Pain in the ass?” Kyoko hang you the phone.

“It’s Gojo…” She nodded while you searched for the number of Haibara on your phone. “Haibara!” You said when you heard him picking up. “Yeah it’s me… I’m so sorry, I’m sick and I couldn’t go today… I hope you-” Kyoko looked at you when felt silent. “What do you mean you already knew? Who told you?” Kyoko watched you with interest trying something of what was said on the other end of the phone. “Oh… okay. I will thank him then… Yeah. Bye.” And you throw the phone to the side.

“What’s with that face?”

“Gojo Satoru told my coworker I was sick.”

“That’s pretty considerate.”

“They are friends…”

“Who?”

“My coworker and Gojo, that’s why he appeared there.” You realized. “Probably Haibara told him and he came to bother.”

Kyoko called your name and you looked at her. “I don’t think he went to bother you…”

“Well… but it’s strange he went all the way to that place! Why would he go if it wasn’t to bother me?”

Your best friend sighed and closed her eyes, whispering something you could not hear and then looked back at you. “Thanks he was there. Or who knows what would have happened to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are right. And I already thanked him.”

“Oh you did?”

“Don’t act surprised when you were the one that gave him my number.”

She put her hands in the air and smiled. “Sorry. But he was really, REALLY insistent…”

“I can imagine.”

“He sent you a message right? What did he say?”

You took the phone and unlocked it to see the message that Gojo sent you.

Pain in the ass

I'll save you place next to me in class for tomorrow 🙆

What’s up with him?

“Oh…” Kyoko smiled next to you.

“What?”

“Nothing… figure it out yourself baby.” She smiled.

“Kyoko… Kyoko, what did that oh ment, come back here.” You followed her through the corridor while she laughed.

“No.” She continued laughing. “Oh!” She stopped walking and turned to look at you. “I already sent a message to the guy.”

“Finally.”

“Yeah…”

“You? Are you really going to try and go out with Gojo’s friend?”

She shrugged and smiled. The fact that Kyoko started dating Gojo's friend didn't particularly bother you, but it did mean potentially spending even more time with Gojo than you had anticipated. The mere thought made your head ache again. However, before dealing with that, you needed to figure out how to face Satoru Gojo tomorrow. It would mark the first encounter since... that incident.

Note: a comment and a like would be appreciated. Also comment to be tagged in the chapters

Tag list: @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke

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l0vegl0wsinthedark · 1 year

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Okay i have to write this down. I have had a very specific fic idea sitting in my pumpkin of a head, rent free.

Draco gets a job - absolutely nothing important or fancy - as some kind of paperwork/paper pushing clerk at the Ministry right after his trial (some sort of reformation program for acquitted death eaters). Fast forward 8 or 9 years and draco still has the same job except he's kind of irreplaceable now because nobody can keep track of all the bajillion bullshit documents that get processed every fucking day - except draco. He sits in an office only slightly larger than a toilet cubicle and has stacks of parchment floor to ceiling ALL AROUND him and it's a bit dizzying honestly, but draco? You ask him for a specific document from december of 1999 and he'll find it in under ten seconds flat.

All this is not even the best part. The best part (in my head) is that draco is the biggest most terrifying GROUCH. Glasses perched on the tip of his nose, hair always rumpled (we know why but we get there later), draco sits at his tiny overflowing desk and barks and snaps at all the people who nervously stop by because they need their paperwork done and the Ministry has literally not bothered to hire anyone else. He doesn't report to anybody, he has no direct boss, they never sorted that shit out. It's something of a rite of passage for new ministry employees to get past draco. He's bony and pale and resembles an infuriated bowtruckle at any given point in the day. He sits there quill in hand, desk in impeccable order and just scolds every single person he meets.

"These are all in the wrong order," he snarls, shoving a sheaf of parchment at a young woman, somebody's new secretary. "Go rearrange them and maybe then I'll stamp and process them."

"Can you not see I'm already talking to somebody here?! Don't stick your head into my office when I'm already occupied. Get out and wait your turn."

"Shut the bloody door, can't you read the sign on it?!"

Occasionally though? He's a gem: "All right, okay, you need a letter from a parent or guardian since you're not of age yet. Didn't they tell you that when you applied for the summer internship? All right, why don't you dart through the Floos downstairs and fetch a letter from home? I'll be here until 5:30. Dry your eyes now, go on. I'll wait."

The whole ministry is terrified of draco and his temper and he speaks to nobody outside of work and nobody knows where he lives or whom he goes home to.

You know whom he goes home to, though, right? 👨🏿‍❤️‍👨🏼

#you know that grumpy toad in that comic 'i am doing my best'. that's draco's resting face #my writing

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bubuslutty · 8 months

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I swear I developed a competence kink because of John Price.

Something in me (my pussy) tells me that this man can do so many things. Like he's good at so many things it's fucking stupid.

John can play chess, Sudoku, pool ball, knows the names of so many birds and plane models, has impeccable spelling, can fix a sink, a door, a car. He can cook good meals, is efficient at cleaning, an amazing driver, good at handling many things at the same time, like booking appointments, always being on time, making time to exercise, indulge in his hobbies, hang out with friends, do paperwork, cook and cleans, all done in a day. like so easily. And he remembers birthdays and important days, buys gifts or makes gifts.

I don't know, but he does all of this so calmly. Take care of business when needed. And if he happens to be unsure about something he'll do meticulous research before solving whatever needs to be solved and taken care of.

Im obsessed with the idea of him taking care of reader. it doesn't matter if reader is smart and independent and strong. It doesn't matter if reader has a degree, or is studying for it, or is already working a full time job. John makes sure that when he's around. His sweetheart gets to let go of everything n just be his little sweet darling.

They don't really have to think abt anything because he's already got it sorted. all they have to do is trust him and do as he says.

It's also sweet in a way. John gets to see his strong baby turn into a ball of softness and sunshine around him, turning off their brain and letting him do all the heavy lifting.

And now we just somehow ended up in subspace.

welp.

John Price is the awakening of so many kinks in this blog.

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ifancyharry · 9 months

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Northern attitude (1)

in which YN moves to a small town in the Alps and Harry is her grumpy neighbor

word count: 8k

When YN got called to her boss’s office, that Friday morning, she was absentmindedly registering the data she’d gathered the day prior from the soil of a closed wildlife zoo. She had gotten so nervous, she accidentally tapped an extra zero on the computer and she had to do it all over again at home once she’d gotten an email from her supervisor telling her the numbers didn’t match. To say she was embarrassed was an understatement, and she’d gotten right at it, eager to correct it, despite her coworker telling her she could easily do it the following work day.

As she had paved the short walk from her desk to her boss’s office she tried to think of something she’d done in the past days that would require such an odd behavior on her boss’s part.

Of course her boss couldn’t possibly have known about the extra number error, unless Dante — her boss, who was a rather nice one and wanted his employers to call him by his first name, because it was such a unique name he couldn’t possibly answer to such a simple and common thing as ‘boss’ — was some kind of supernatural being able to foresee the future. She frowned as she tossed the thought from her head. She likes to think she would’ve noticed if her boss was not human, but despite his uncommon name, he was a pretty normal guy, somewhat laid back and kind of understanding with his employees, so nothing stuck out in that sense.

There was another thing that came to mind when she tried to find a reason for his unpredicted call, probably much more possible than her starring in an episode of Supernatural with Dante, and that was, maybe, that her break up had finally caught up to her. She’d tried to keep it as low as possible, not that she had a lot of friends at work, but one coworker of hers was particularly noisy and would ask once in a while how her boyfriend, Aaron, was doing. So when said coworker had asked, she’d just shrug it off with a ‘he’s all right,' without mentioning how she’d found him in bed with her best friend only a week before.

She’d kept her crying to a minimum, excusing herself to the bathroom every once in a while when the image of her boyfriend on top of her best friend crept inside her mind when she wasn’t busying herself with work.

So she really can’t understand how Dante figured it out. Her work had been impeccable, and despite her many bathroom breaks, she swore nothing had changed in her demeanor.

YN doesn’t know why when something unexpected happens, she always thinks about the worst possible scenario. Her mind fogged with images of Dante firing her, Dante being a supernatural something, biting her head off because he predicted she’d type the wrong number and probably make his company go bankrupt, ruining a life’s work — of course YN didn’t have such responsibility (she was supervised in everything she did) and her job was rather dull, just a lot of bureaucracies and not as much research as expected.

She certainly hadn’t imagined Dante’d called her in his office because he wanted to offer her a promotion. She honestly couldn’t believe her ears and she’d almost asked him to repeat himself had it not be for his endless monologue about the importance of team work and how she had to take one for the team, besides, moving to a small town in the Alps was nothing, and it was only for two years, so why would she decline?

Wait. Moving? To the Alps? (She honestly doesn’t even know where the Alps are, but is too embarrassed to ask him, and promises herself she’ll google it once she gets back to her desk.)

Turns out, the position was vacant because her coworker Anais had just found out she was expecting a baby, so she couldn’t move anymore (especially to the Alps!, he’d said), and Dante had immediately thought of YN, because well, as he said, she was young and didn’t have anything holding her back. YN remembers she frowned at that, because she really didn’t have anything keeping her there, if not the possibility of running into her ex at the supermarket hand in hand with her friend.

With that in mind, she kind of accepted before really taking the time to think about it, desperate to get out of a place that felt suffocating all of a sudden.

Dante had been ecstatic to hear that, going on and on about how they recently found out traces of a wild grizzly bear that had been thought extinct for many years, and how she’d love working in the field as opposed to her office job.

He explained how her living situation was already sorted out (and paid for by the company), she figured probably because Anais had done the house hunting prior to finding out she was pregnant and couldn’t go. Dante had told her she’d be leaving in two weeks, and the plane was non refundable so she couldn’t just change dates. Plus, he said, they were expecting her, so she better pack fast! (YN had felt ravish at that, because she never truly felt indispensable for her actual coworkers.)

She’d managed to pack all her and her dog’s — a one year old dachshund named Baguette — stuff in ten days, making sure she had enough warm clothes to last her at least all winter, because as it turns out, she had googled where the Alps are, and they’re really, really, cold. Temperatures dropping below the zero in March cold.

YN, who, she’d like to think, wasn’t someone scared of changes and adapted to situations rather well, was kind of excited as she had gotten on the plane, ready to leave her life behind, because, really, how bad could it be?

. . .

Turns out, it was pretty bad. And when YN says bad, it means bad, because she isn’t one to use words lightheartedly. When she says bad, she means her suitcases got stalled at the airport because of custom checks bad. Gets dark at four in the afternoon bad. Had to walk in the freezing March weather (along a steep climb!), because there wasn’t any kind of public transportation kind of bad.

So, yes, it was pretty bad. Not to completely drain her of her enthusiasm, but definitely enough to dim it.

When she reached the gate of the house, she took her phone from her pocket and unlocked it, opening the mail’s app and looking for the one her landlord had sent her with all the details (he technically hadn’t sent it to her, but to Anais; Dante had forwarded it to her and assured her the landlord — a certain Mr. Styles, knew about her arrival and would greet her in his house — more like his garden — with open arms).

She nodded to herself once she finished reading the instructions, opening the gate with the code Mr. Styles had written in the email. She repeated the combination of numbers a couple of times in her head, so she could remember it better in the future, and once she heard the gate had been unlocked, she pushed it open with one hand, looping her fingers around the embroidery on the metal.

“C’mon, Baguette!” She said, lowering to the ground and picking up her small dog. Baguette got extremely tired from walking and she certainly couldn’t blame her. She felt pretty tired too, almost enough to get already in bed at five in the afternoon and sleep though the night, and she let herself gleam in the cozy daydream while she paved the way to the small house she’d be staying in, annex to a much bigger one where she figured Mr. Styles (and probably his wife? His family? She didn’t know) lived in. She felt herself grimace once she realized she didn’t even have her pajamas, so before she could fulfill her little dream, she had to at least stop at a supermarket to get something to sleep in.

She prayed in her mind it was close, because really, she didn’t know how long she had before her feet would give up on her.

YN wasn’t one to pry on people’s personal spaces, never had been (not even when she passed her crush’s house in 8th grade and her mind begged her to take a quick peek inside to see if he was home) and she regarded houses as very personal, intimate, spaces, so she doesn’t know why, on her way to her own house, she stopped to get on her toes and look inside what seemed to be a kitchen window. The house seemed empty, the lights turned off expect for a small lamp in the corner, and she possibly couldn’t have known that Mr. Styles had just gotten out of his car and was walking towards her with a look that, had she seen it, probably would have scared her.

“What the hell are you doing?” He snapped, making her jump. She turned toward him right away, watching him shut the car door loudly, a stern look adorning his otherwise gentle features.

“Uhm… hello?” She questioned, furrowing her brows at him, “I’m YN, the — she cleared her voice and pointed with her thumb in the direction of the small house — the new tenant. Who are you?”

YN tried to rattle inside her brain if Dante had mentioned a flatmate she’d be sharing the house with, but nothing came to mind. So who was he?

“YN?” He asked, the furrow in his brows only deepening. He had gotten incredibly close to her and YN felt unease at having her personal space involved like that, which is kind of ironic, must she say.

She nodded, mumbling a small yes along with it.

“I thought Anais was supposed to come?”

Did he know Anais? How did he know her?

Oh!

Oh.

Could he be?

He certainly couldn’t!

He was much younger than she’d imagined!

She thought Mr. Styles would be an odd, off putting kind of elderly person, who maybe had a wife or an old dog Baguette could play with. She certainly couldn’t have imagined Mr. Styles was this handsome (yet scary), tall guy, with a mop of chocolate brown curly hair down to his shoulders, eyes as green as the deepest forest she dreamt about while reading fantasy books when she was younger, broad shoulders and… were those swallows she could see from the low collar of his white cotton shirt? And who wears only a shirt in this weather? He must be mad!

“Oi!” He waved a hand in front of her face to catch her attention, “i’m talking to you.”

She mumbled something incomprehensible and then she gulped before nodding her head, “sorry. Anais couldn’t come anymore, Dante told me you knew.”

She watched as Mr. Styles scoffed, muttering a ‘what a prick’ before shaking his head, a strand of curly hair falling in front of his eyes, which he pushed out of his face with a couple of gentle fingers. YN noticed the various rings adorning his hands, and she wondered for a brief moment wether they were a gift or if he’d buy them himself.

He looked over her briefly and YN shifted her weight from foot to foot, thinking he was probably wondering why she didn’t have any bags with her. She was getting ready to explain how the airport security had detained them, but the words haltered in her throat when she saw him raise a hand and letting the sleepy Baguette in her arms sniff it, before scratching his ear.

“What a cute doggy” he said, lowering himself to be face to face with the small dog, “what’s your name?” He asked directly to Baguette, and YN felt as if all of a sudden she was the dog and Baguette was her owner, and she blushed at that thought.

“This is Baguette!” She chimed awkwardly.

“Ha” he snorted through his nose, “cute name. Baguette” he repeated, and the name rolled off his tongue so sweetly YN imagined what hers would sound like coming from his lips. Probably much more stern and less saccharine.

“Okay, I have to go.” He raised himself, making her jump a little in her place. He straightened his shirt and looked at her with a crossed look, “you know how to get in, right? Or do I have to explain that too?”

YN couldn’t possibly know what other things he had explained, but she wasn’t clueless and had realized Mr. Styles didn’t particularly like her, so she figured it was best to say she did and figure it out on her own. So, she nodded and he gave a short nod back, walking past her towards his own house.

She watched him unlock the door with a set of keys and then disappear behind the front door, her gaze fixed on his broad shoulder covered only by the thin fabric of his shirt. She felt Baguette wiggle her tail from where she was holding her between her arms, and YN rolled her eyes at her dog, “of course you like him already! Traitor!”

. . .

YN didn’t knock on Mr. Styles’s door with the intention of bothering him.

She just wanted to ask him where she could buy something to sleep in and perhaps something to eat, an overpriced airport sandwich being the only thing she’d eaten all day. So, she thought, her intentions were pretty harmless, and it’s not like she was expecting an invite in for dinner or something like that!

She truly didn’t mean to be a bother, but her stomach had started to grumble half an hour ago, and she dreamed of the hot shower she’d take after, which she couldn’t possibly take if she wasn’t certain she’d have something to sleep in comfortably.

When a couple of minutes had passed and there was still no trace of Mr. Styles, she wondered whether he was even home. Her mind lingered just a second on the possibility that he was actually avoiding her, but YN was one of those people that always chose to see the good in others, so she got rid of the thought as quickly as it had come.

She knocked on the door again, this time harder and firmer, and she waited patiently. She was almost about to give up, when the door opened before her with a swift movement that caught her off guard.

Mr. Styles looked displeased once he set his scrutinizing gaze on her figure, and YN could almost feel his eyes touch her.

“What?” He asked, his brows furrowed on his forehead.

“I was just wondering if you knew a place where I could…like… it’s just that… I think you probably noticed, I don’t have my suitcases. And it’s honestly fine, the airport was packed so I don’t really blame them, and the hostess was so nice! She offered to refund me for the problem, but I didn’t want to go through all that… but now I really need my clothes so I don’t… ugh” she sighed frustratedly. YN tends to kind of talk really fast when she’s nervous. She’s always been like that, especially in front of boys, and her ex boyfriend always used to get mad at her for that — said it was embarrassing and made her look dumb; she’d tried many times to explain it wasn’t something she could control easily, but he’d suggested she’d fix it fast (especially if she wanted to meet his friends).

“Sorry” she exhaled, closing her blabbering mouth in a straight line.

Harry waited for her to continue what she was saying, his face stoic and impossible to read, which didn’t help soothe her nerves.

“Is there a place where I can get some clothes?”

“You moved across the country without clothes?” He asked, his brows closed in a furrow across his face that made YN even more nervous. She felt dumb. She wanted to explain what had happened without sounding silly.

“Ughhh, nooo. They kept my bag at check-in, so I don’t actually have any clothes, apart from these” she pointed towards her flimsy cotton sweatshirt that was definitely inappropriate for the cold weather.

YN tried not to pay too much mind to the grimace of what seemed like disgust when Mr. Styles looked at her clothes, and she shifted uncomfortably on her feet while she waited for his response.

“It’s almost six in the evening. Everything’s closed.”

YN felt her heart fall into her stomach as her brain registered the words that came out of his mouth.

Six. In the evening.

Everything. Closed.

“What?”

Harry rolled his eyes at her surprise, “everything closes at five here. You didn’t know?”

YN felt hopeless because how could she have known! She’d literally been on a plane for ten hours!

She looked at Mr. Styles with her big, widened eyes, and Harry didn’t have to wait for her to say it to know the answer.

YN felt like crying, right there in front of this man she didn’t even know the full name of. Her boyfriend had been right when he’d call her dumb. Because she was dumb. Who moves across the country this unorganized?

“Look, I really need to go right now.” Mr. Styles broke the tense silence that had fallen upon them, and he watched as she nodded her head slowly, seeming lost in thought.

“Okay.” She muttered, and it felt weird seeing her so quiet, but honestly, it wasn’t Harry’s problem. Her douchebag of a boss should’ve warn her, or at least she could’ve researched a bit on the place she was moving to!

He cleared his throat and YN woke up from her trance, she swiftly moved to the side to let him out. Harry closed the door behind him and locked it with his keys.

He shivered as a gust of cold wind fell upon them, and he watched with the corner of his eye how YN tried to squeeze herself in the flimsy sweatshirt she was wearing. Ha. She didn’t even look up the weather first!

He kind of felt bad for her, in a remote part of himself, but he also judged her for her carelessness.

“Bye” she waved gently from beside him, and he nodded towards her in a form of greeting.

He pretended to busy himself with his phone, not feeling like talking to her anymore, but when she started walking towards her own house, he looked up in her direction, his eyes on her back.

Her shoulders were sagged and she displayed a very different demeanor than she did this morning. Harry shook the feeling of her sadness from his gut and walked towards his gate, ready to meet his friends.

. . .

YN was hungry. And she felt gross. And the combination wasn’t the best.

She wanted to shower and lay down on her bed, that looked extremely comfortable and clean, but she was still wearing her airport clothes, and there was no way in hell she’d sleep in those.

She debated whether she could sleep naked, but it was way too cold for that, and she had work in the morning, so she didn’t want to call in sick her first day.

She was hopeless.

For a minute, she was so hungry that she contemplated eating some of Baguette’s food, but then she felt so disgusted by the idea she felt like throwing up, so she decided it was probably better not to. She couldn’t afford to throw up the only meal she’d had all day. So, she waited.

Her original plan was to stay up until 5 in the morning, go buy some pajamas and then nap for an hour until she had to wake up at 7.

But the combination of starvation and exhaustion didn’t really go well, because she was so tired she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She wondered for a moment if the ground was comfortable, and just as she was about to lay down and test it, she heard a knock on her door she almost believed she’d imagined at first.

She walked slowly to the door, her brows furrowed, and when she opened the door, she swears to god she was about to pass out.

At her feet lay a tray with takeout boxes, she couldn’t see what was inside them, but she figured anything was better than eating Baguette’s food. Next to the tray was a grocery store bag, closed with the handles tied in a knot, and she picked it up curiously.

She bent down to pick up the tray and she closed the door behind her with her foot.

She opened the yellow grocery bag first, and she still remembers the sigh of relief she let out as she saw what was inside: a clean long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of blue plaid pajama pants. She could smell the sweet and clean smell of the fabric softener, and she inhaled the scent in deeply.

She put aside the clothes and opened the take out boxes, eager to eat something. She grabbed a fork from the pantry and opened the first box, which contained what seemed to be a homemade meal, some kind of pasta with tomato sauce and meat. She scooped up a big bite and she felt better already, her brain finally being fueled after a really tiring day.

. . .

When she lay in bed that night, fresh off the shower and her tummy full with the best pasta she’d ever eaten, she cuddled with Baguette next to her and her mind wandered off to Mr. Styles. Maybe, she hadn’t really bothered him that much after all.

. . .

Harry hates people. And, therefore, he hates places full of people. Especially supermarkets. He hates supermarkets.

All those people in line, carts crushing into each others because of the carelessness of their owners, the annoying, commercial music coming from the speakers insinuating itself into his ears, the loud echo of voices commuting in one big buzz.

He hates supermarkets and most especially waiting in line. The self-check out was the best addiction to the small town’s supermarket, and ever since he’d found out how to scan his items by himself, he’d never, not once, gone back to the served check out. Apart from today, that is. Because the other registers appeared to be broken, and they couldn’t have picked a worse day to be, in his opinion. Rush hour, in a small town, is around 4 in the afternoon, and Harry knew that, and he had always tried to avoid the supermarket at that hour, but Niall had called, and he needed some kind of special sausage they only had at that particular supermarket, and when Harry had groaned, he’d swat at his arm playfully and he’d said: “you should thank god I feed you!”, and that was true in all its entireness, so Harry couldn’t really find it in him to argue with that. So, that’s what he was doing, at 4 in the afternoon, rush hour, holding a pack of a dozen sausages because his friend needed it.

He was lost in his thoughts when he heard her. That sweet voice that had taunted him the night before, so much he had asked Niall for some of the pasta he’d prepared “in case he got hungry later”, of course, that wasn’t entirely the reason. The reason being the cute and annoying girl standing in line a person before him, and the thought of her starving and with nothing but a cotton sweatshirt to shield her from the inevitable cold of the night.

“I’m so sorry it’s taking me so long,” he heard her say, as she let out a nervous chuckle through her mouth, “I just can’t find my card”.

“Only cash with this register, lady. There’s a sign right there” the cashier pointed towards the sign and YN felt herself get red with embarrassment. Eager to get it over with, she had run to the first opened register she could find, not paying much attention to her surrounding, which, she then realized, she probably should’ve.

“I just flew in last night, I still haven’t got time to…” she shook her head as she realized the cashier didn’t care. Of course she didn’t. Once again, she felt silly and alone.

“Okay” she whispered to herself, “i’ll just leave it all here and come back later?”

Harry, that was standing in line just a person from her, had listened to the exchanged quite attentively, and he’d rolled his eyes at her.

He cleared his throat and she snapped her head in his direction, and he didn’t miss the way her cheeks had turned pink once she’d recognized him.

“I’ll pay for her things” he offered, and the person in front of him, a middle aged man, breathed out a sigh of relief and whispered a “thank god” that YN didn’t miss. She smiled apologetically at the man, who didn’t even as much as throw a glance at her, and she watched as he stepped to the side to let Harry pass before him.

YN started packing her bags and she refused to look at Mr. Styles as he paid for her groceries and his own, too embarrassed to acknowledge the encounter that had just happened.

When he passed her, he grabbed one bag from the floor and started walking towards the exit of the supermarket, and YN watched as his bicep flexed under the weight of the bag.

She hurried to pick up his pace, and once she found herself walking at his side, she opened her mouth to thank him: “thank you so much, Mr. Styles. I genuinely didn’t know, otherwise I never would’ve chosen that register! The sign was just so small and I never pay attention to my surroundings so it was an honest mistake, I swear!”

Harry rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time, “will yeh stop calling me Mr. Styles? ’s not like I’m bloody fifty years old!”

“Sorry” YN blushed embarrassed, as she tried to walk quickly beside him. His legs were very much longer than hers, and he walked pretty fast despite the added weight of the groceries.

“What should I call you?”

“Harry.” He groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Ok. Harry.” She said, nodding her head, liking the way his name sounded rolling off her tongue. “I will send you the money right away, I’m so sorry you had to do that for me”

“’s fine. Don’ worry ‘bout it.”

YN cleared her throat and nodded, looking down at her shoes as she kept walking beside him. Every once in a while, she would lose her balance due to the weight on her hands, and her arm would brush against his, the contact not going unnoticed by her. She wondered if he noticed too and if he cared, she knew he probably didn’t, but it was nice.

“Oh!” She remembered as they walked their way back to his house, “thank you for the food, too. And of course the clothes!!! You didn’t have to, but thank you. I was so hungry you have no idea. And the food was so so so good! Did you make it?”

“No.” He answered briefly.

“Well… it was really yummy. I’ll have to meet the chef!” She joked, and because she felt her arm get tired, she switched the bag to her other hand, trying to balance the weight, “are they from around here?”

“Yes.”

YN nodded understandably, “You know, I was a little scared to come here because I’d be all alone. Well, not entirely alone because I have Baguette, but… I’m so happy you’re my neighbor! You’re so nice”

Harry snorted through his nose at her words, “tha’s a first”, but YN, even if she heard him, didn’t say anything.

When they finally reached the house, Harry walked her to the door and placed the bag on the ground, massaging his arm that had gone a little bit sore.

“Thank you” she repeated, smiling warmly at him.

Harry shrugged and was about to turn around, when he heard her say “wait! Do you want to see Baguette?”

. . .

Harry left her house about half an hour later, incredibly late and with his phone blowing up from Niall’s calls.

He had looked around quickly once he’d walked inside, and he noticed some of her belongings scattered around the living room, some pillows that he didn’t recognize as his own lying on the couch. He wondered for a brief second what her room looked like, not regarding the furniture (that he had picked a long time ago with his mother), but what it looked like with her living in it. Did she change the sheets or did she keep the ones he chose? Was it tidy or messy? Did she sleep with Baguette?

It was weird to him, thinking this way about her, because never would he have thought of her as more than an annoying girl. But, he could admit she was kind of cute. Annoying, but definitely cute.

He had played with Baguette while YN put away the groceries, and they didn’t talk much because he didn’t feel like talking. He’d never given much confidence to people he didn’t know, and, despite YN calling him ‘nice’, he didn’t really know much about her.

He had excused himself after about twenty minutes of playing with Baguette, and after a quick rub on the dog’s belly, he left her house without muttering more than a ‘bye’.

He didn’t care if he came off as rude, he’d always been that way, and he certainly wasn’t about to change for this girl he met just the day before!

. . .

YN loved her work.

Since she was little, she’d always loved wild animals, and she’d dreamed one day of doing the job she’s supposed to do now: gather sources about this rare bear that had been sighted and write a report about it to send to Dante. If the report was good, she’d be published on Dante’s scientific magazine, which was a great opportunity for YN to get her name out there and be regarded in the scientific community.

All this was, honestly, easier said than done, because since the moment she stepped foot inside her new office, she received nothing but glares from her coworkers. Apparently, everyone was gutted about Anais’ replacement, and she tried really hard to be kind and explain that “no, Anais isn’t coming! But it’s a beautiful thing because she’s pregnant!!!! Dante sent me, I’m no Anais but I can try”, but, despite her big efforts, she was met with the indifference of the others.

She thought once on the field, the interviews would’ve gone a little better, because she was nice and she figured people loved nice, but as soon as she tried to talk to someone about this sighting, they recognized her immediately as a non-local (which apparently was a big deal) and refused to talk to her, feigning ignorance at her questions.

She felt defeated. And she started questioning for a bit whether moving to this small town was even a good idea in the first place.

Of course, she’d escaped from her ex and from the possibility of ever meeting him again, but was it worth it? In that moment, she couldn’t say.

When she returned to her office that Thursday afternoon, she tried to gather the little information she had gotten, but it wasn’t even close enough to write the introduction!, so she closed her laptop with a heavy sigh, full of her disappointment, and she promised the day after she’d do better.

The day after, YN decided to do what she did best back at her previous job, figuring maybe that the excessive responsibility had influenced her work. She decided she’d take a walk on the reserve and try and gather as many sources from the territory she could.

The bear had been spotted inside a terrain one hour down a three hour long pathway, which, for a wildlife animal, was pretty dangerous. She couldn’t even imagine what would happen if someone stumbled across the bear, and she truly feared for the animal’s life, knowing all too well human’s cruel nature.

The walk was tough, and the muscles in her legs were burning with fatigue. After about forty minutes of walking, she decided she’d stop at the first refuge she’d find, drink a little water and maybe even grab something hot to drink to warm up her freezing hands.

She spotted a cabin after a couple of miles, and she felt her heart jump happily in her chest at the thought of finally resting for a bit. She tossed her backpack into the ground and put away the little journal and pen she’d kept in handy to scribble down things she observed along the pathway.

Once inside the small cabin/cafe, she immediately felt her insides warming up. Everything was made out of wood, including the ceiling, and she observed how every chair had cute, fluffy blankets draped across the backrest.

The place was just what she needed after a really long and tiring walk, and she regarded with contentment how she was the only customer.

“Hello!” A shrilling voice called behind her, and she jumped in her place a little at the sound. She turned around immediately and she smiled at a blonde guy that was standing behind the counter. He was tying a blue apron behind his back and once he’d secured it, he cleaned his hands on its front, smiling warmly at her once their eyes met.

“Hi” she said, shyly, “could I get some hot cocoa, please?”

“Yes! Of course!!” He beamed, and YN wondered if she was maybe the first customer of the day or if he acted this way towards everyone that came in.

“Here or to go?”

“Here, thank you.”

“Okay! Just take a seat and I’ll bring it to you in a moment”.

YN nodded her head at his words and took place at a small table near a big window that overlooked the entire valley.

She’d been to the mountains just once with her family when she was very little, but she’d always dreamt of living in a slow-paced, small town, as opposed to the big city she left behind.

She loved the green and the sun shining high in the sky warming her skin, and she loved drinking hot drinks in spring. She wasn’t really a fan of the snow, though, that had always seemed to scare her, and she was happy she had both spring and summer to get through before the winter, and she figured she’d probably be accustomed to the place once it’d start snowing, so she decided not to worry too much about that now.

She fished out of her backpack her journal and started reading through her notes to see if there was something remotely good to start with.

unusual path for a bear

too many houses in proximity of the sighting

not much food can be found on the trail

(…)

She figured it was not much but a start nonetheless.

She was so engrossed by her notes she didn’t even hear the nice blonde guy approaching her, so when he placed the cup in front of her she jumped a little in her place.

“Woah, easy there! Yeh’re a jumpy thing, aren’t ya?” He giggled, pushing the cup in front of her as soon as she cast aside the journal.

She blushed immediately at his words, “sorry” she muttered.

“’S fine, didn’t mean to embarrass you”

She threw him a quick smile before glancing down at her hot chocolate, and she noticed happily that he had topped it with a big amount of whipped cream.

“Wait!” He chimed before she could take a sip of her drink, “forgot something.”

He ran back towards the kitchen and came out as quick as he went, holding a small, ceramic, plate in his hands.

He put it on the table in front of YN and smiled warmly at her, “Freshly made ginger biscuits!”

YN felt like crying.

This was the first time someone was so nice to her, and after the fiasco she went through with her interviews, she really could use someone that at least acknowledged her.

Of course, Harry had been nice, too, but in the days that had come, she’d seen less and less of him, and she’d started to wonder whether he was actually avoiding her.

“This is so good!!! Thank you” she beamed, finally feeling relaxed after what seemed like a long time but was actually just less than a week.

“Do you want to sit? If you’re not… busy?” She gestured to the empty seat in front of her and watched as he sat immediately in the chair, placing his elbows on the table.

“Usually there’s more people around but… you know, ’s rush hour, so…”

YN threw a glance at the clock on the wall, that ticked 3.58 pm. “Rush hour?” She asked, curiously.

“Oh! Yeah. I don’t where you’re from, but here, rush hour is at around 4 because everything closes at 5.30” he shrugged, stealing a cookie from the plate on the table between them.

YN nodded and took a sip from her drink, “shouldn’t there be more people if it’s rush hour?”

He furrowed his brows and cleaned his mouth from the cookie’s crumbles with the back of his hand, “no”.

YN nodded understandingly once again, even if she didn’t truly understand his thought process. She figured in small towns people lived differently.

“Are yeh here on vacation?” He asked her and she tried not to feel too disappointed that he understood right away that she wasn’t a local.

“No” she shook her head, “I moved here last Monday. I’m here for that bear sighting”

“Oh” she noticed his eyes widened, “nasty stuff that was! I hope that bear ’s long gone by now!”

She frowned at his words; she really would have liked seeing a real-life bear.

She chatted with him — she’d found out his name was Niall — for what felt like minutes but was actually an hour, and once she’d realized how late it had gotten, the sky had turned dark and gloomy, and she’d hurriedly collected her things and payed for her order, saying bye to Niall with the promise of coming more often. The clock ticked 5.13 pm and she figured it wouldn’t really be that dangerous to walk back home. It wasn’t late in the night, and despite the dark sky, it was still mid afternoon. So, after saying goodbye to Niall, she threw her backpack across her shoulder and started walking back.

Five minutes in her walk and she was already feeling uneasy. She hadn’t noticed at first but on the pathway there weren’t any lights, so she couldn’t see more than her own two feet; any little shadow or sound seemed to scare her, and it took her a lot of convincing to not just go back and ask Niall to take her home. The option had seemed tempting, but what could he really do? Close the cafe just because she was scared of the dark? and, despite talking his ear off all afternoon, who even was he? YN had a reputation for being easy going and able to make friends with pretty much everyone, but time had taught her that not everyone wanted to actually be her friend.

That thought made her think about Harry, and how she hadn’t seen him in almost five days. After he had played with Baguette in her home, she thought she had found if not a friend at least someone to hang out with, now that she was in a new place completely alone, but maybe, she’d figured, it was Harry that didn’t want to hang out with her. He had seemed pretty grumpy, but she’d seen through his facade pretty quickly, and she had thought he was actually nice. Now, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was just a one time thing.

She clutched the strap of her backpack extra tight as soon as she heard the sound of a car behind her, the headlights of the car illuminating her and the path before her. She shivered as the sudden thought of being alone on a street with no way of escaping came to her mind, and she picked up her pace to walk quicker. Beside her fear, there was also the question on how could someone drive in this particular pathway that, as she knew, was actually closed to cars.

She was wondering if the driver had some kind of permit, when the car — that actually seemed more like a pick up — stopped beside her. She unintentionally turned her head to look inside, and before she could say anything to the guy inside, he beat her to it: “what the hell are yeh doin’ here alone?”

She looked at Harry with wide eyes, her face half hidden behind the darkness of the sky, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was him and not someone who wanted to hurt her.

“I lost track of time” she said shyly, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously.

“Get in.” He ordered, and she saw him unlock the car doors with a button on the steering wheel.

“No, it’s okay! I can just walk, it’s not that far…”

“Get in!” He stressed, but, “please” he added, once he realized his tone may have come out a little too sternly.

“Okay” she whispered, wrapping her fingers around the handle of the car door and opening it. She threw her backpack on the car mat at the end of the seat and placed a hand on the car door to balance herself. The pick up was a little tall, so she had to literally climb inside the truck with her legs. She hoped she didn’t make too much of a fool out of herself.

He grabbed her arm to help her, and once she was settled in the seat, he let it go quickly, almost as if he was uncomfortable with touching her.

He didn’t say anything for a while, but YN noticed how he turned on the heat as soon as he saw her hugging herself against the cold.

The pickup was big, but she could still smell his perfume — or cologne? She didn’t know — lingering in the air.

YN stayed silent, not wanting to bother him, although it proved to be kind of difficult for her, because she wanted to ask him a lot of things.

She remembers thinking he was mad at her. She still doesn’t know why, and why in the world could he possibly be mad at her, but, still. Aaron used to get angry over the most silliest things, so she figured every guy was the same.

She almost caught herself asking him, but she remembered pretty quickly Aaron’s words: “not everyone wants to be your friend”.

She still had a little trouble understanding that.

She heard Harry clear his throat, and she wondered if he was about to talk, so she patiently waited. He didn’t. He seemed antsy, and YN noticed how tightly he was gripping the wheel, so, she decided to ease the tension between them with the thing she did best: asking questions.

“How are you allowed to drive here? Do you have some kind of permit? Because I researched the territory for my article and it strictly said ‘no cars allowed, must be on foot’, sooo… how can you? Are you some kind of… I don’t know — she shrugged, pouting her lips thoughtfully — are you some kind of boss, around here? That’s why people cook for you?”

Harry closed his brows in a furrow and brought his left hand up to massage his temple, “no” he simply said.

“What does ‘no’ mean?”

“It means no.” He said matter of factly.

“Ugghh — she huffed — I know what ‘no’ means! I was asking figuratively. Are you always this grumpy?”

“Thought yeh said I was nice” he grinned, a dimple denting his cheek.

“Forget it” she mumbled, turning her head to look outside the window; there wasn’t much to see, with all the darkness, but anything was better than looking at him.

“I’m not ‘some kind of boss’” he mocked her amused, glancing at her quickly before averting his gaze back on the road, “I own the terrain, so I can do whatever I want on it”.

YN turned her head to look back at him, wondering if he was making fun of her or if he was actually serious. He seemed serious.

“You own it?”

“Yeah” he nodded, amused by her reaction.

“I can’t believe it”

“Why?”

“This was were the bear was spotted! I could have asked you all along instead of interviewing people who closed the door in my face!” She pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“They really closed the door in your face?” He asked, furrowing his brows, the smirk disappearing from his face quickly and his lips closing in a tight line.

“Yeah” she huffed, “but it’s okay. I mean… I get it if they don’t want to talk to me but… I really need to do my job! I really wouldn’t bother them if it wasn’t necessary”

“They closed the door in your face. It’s not okay.” He said sternly, back to his old grumpy self, “who did you talk to?”

“Oh… that woman that lives in the first house right after the cafe. Wait. Do you know the cafe?”

Harry snickered at her question, “yeah, I heard of it”.

“Just her?” He added.

“No” she shook her head, “I talked to Mr. Donovan too. I remember his name because Matt Donovan is a character in one of my favorite series! So… pretty easy to remember. He was actually nice before I told him I was writing an article for a magazine. He closed the door without even saying bye” she shrugged.

“That’s not okay” he repeated.

“Well, it’s no problem at all now!!!! Because I can just ask you” she beamed, clapping her hands excitedly.

“No. I wasn’t here that weekend”

“What?” She asked, looking at him with big eyes.

Harry refrained himself from laughing. “Yeah.” He nodded, “i wasn’t here. Sorry”

“Great.” She groaned, tossing her arms in the air, her enthusiasm quickly dissolving.

She heard him laugh through his nose, “i’m taking the piss out of yeh. I was here”

“Oh thank god!” she sighed relieved, finally seeing some ray of sunshine coming her way, “you’re cruel! don’t ever do that again!” She pointed her finger at his face and then swatted his arm when she heard him chuckle.

thank you for reading!!!! i love you all, let me know if you'd like part 2 and what you want to see happen 💖

568 notes · View notes

persephonewritessometimes · 1 year

Note

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Where after months ( cuz shes new n young working there)they cant také anymore their attraction to each other.

Key sentences: Hotch: I’m old enough to be your father. R: Should I call you Daddy then?

Smut n fluff

Please

Author's Note: oooo thank you for this request anon!! thinking many thoughts, head very full

Summary: It's no secret that you have a thing for your boss - a man 25 years your senior. What happens when he reveals he has feelings for you too?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 5108 (i got carried away hehe)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! UNDER 18? PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING! SMUT; DADDY KINK; SIR KINK; OVERSTIMULATION; MULTIPLE ORGASMS; UNPROTECTED P IN V (don't be like them y'all, stay safe); DOM!HOTCH, SUB!READER; READER IS HORNY; FINGERING; ORAL (F RECEIVING) reader gets distracted by Hotch's hands, pining, confession of feelings, reader blacks out from cumming really hard; Hotch calls reader "good girl, princess, baby"; Morgan is a cheeky bastard (as per usual)

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

“Y/N, you're staring, again," Morgan says with a chuckle and I quickly find somewhere else to look that isn't our section chief. Which I was definitely not having rated-R thoughts about.

"Shut up, Morgan," I mutter.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I turn and stare at him now, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Sure, why don't I just tell a much older man that every time I look at him, I feel weak in the knees and sweaty? That would really go over well." I say, sarcastically.

"We're getting tired of watching you eye-fuck him, Y/N." Emily sighs, jumping into the conversation.

"It's getting kind of pathetic at this point," Morgan adds and I smack him on the shoulder.

"You guys are being mean. Let me pine in peace."

"Y/N, none of us are at peace when you start acting like a dog in heat every time Hotch walks in the room. It's genuinely hard to watch." Morgan shoots back, grinning at me. I feel my cheeks grow hot at his brazen comment. "Just put us out of our misery and get laid for once, damn." I feel my cheeks growing even hotter.

"He - he doesn't like me like that." I'm tripping over my words, embarrassed that everyone can see what's clearly written by my body language when Hotch is around.

"Y/N, sweetie, you're smart, but sometimes you're an idiot," Emily says kindly. "He likes you."

"Trust us, we know," Morgan adds.

"How?" I say and cross my arms over my chest.

"Really? Okay. Whenever he's giving a briefing and you're standing next to him, his body gravitates towards yours, you're the first person he looks for in every room, Y/N, two weeks ago on that case in Charleston he almost throttled the officer that merely tried to flirt with you."

"Wait, that officer was flirting with me?" I've only been here a few months, so I haven't learned how to read people as well as him yet.

"Oh my god, she actually is an idiot." Morgan groans. "Yes! He always got you coffee refills without asking, offered you the first pick of the donuts, and gave you, and only you, a very thorough tour of the precinct. He was trying to impress you." He looks at me closely. "How the fuck did you get this job?" I shrug.

"Impeccable academic record?" I suggest timidly, and he snorts.

"Just pay attention to Hotch. More than you are already. You'll see."

"He's old enough to be my dad," I say.

"Why do I have the feeling that only fuels your fantasies?" Morgan mutters. "I'm done with this conversation. Either you tell him, Y/N, or I will."

"MORGAN!" He just throws his hands up in the air giving me an exasperated look. "Em? A little back up here?"

"As much as I hate to agree with Morgan, he has a point. It’s kind of hard to focus on work when we all know what’s going on except for you two. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but just say something, for the sake of everyone who has to be in a room with you guys. I could cut the tension between you two like a knife.” She gives me a small smile.

“I- I’m just nervous. What if you guys are wrong?” She places her hand over mine.

“We’re not wrong, Y/N. We even asked Reid to weigh in and he agrees with us. Just say something.” I frown and head back to my desk, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I’m deep in a stack of paperwork when Hotch calls the team into a meeting. I sigh, set my pen aside, and make my way into the boardroom. I’m on high alert, due to Morgan’s comment, and as I step into the room, I glance at Hotch to find him already looking at me. He looks away quickly and I watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. Oh my god, they were right.

I’m hyper-aware of him the whole meeting, so much so that I barely heard a word he was saying.

“Y/N? Are you paying attention?” Hotch asks, looking at me.

“Uh, yes, sir.” I blurt out in a panic. I wasn’t expecting him to directly address me.

“YES SIR?” Morgan hollers. “That’s a new one.” Even Em is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch glares at him.

“Don’t tease her, Morgan. Y/N, please pay attention.”

“I will, sorry Hotch.” He just nods and goes back to what he was saying. I tried to pay attention I really did but I found myself watching his hands as he talked. He gestures at the screen, then to something in the paper he had given us, then puts his hand on his hip. His fingers are so thick I wonder if two would even fit inside of me. I’m thinking about him fingering me on his desk, pussy splayed and dripping for him, and I shift in my seat, feeling the wetness in my panties. Dammit, Y/N, don’t get carried away.

“Y/N, seriously,” Hotch sighs a few minutes later and I’m dragged from my dirty daydream. “I need you to pay attention or leave. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan whispers with a grin. I glare at him.

“I’m trying to pay attention, I swear.”

“Are you sick? You look a bit warm, why don’t you step out for a few minutes.” I just nod, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “And I want to see you in my office when we’re done with this meeting.” I nod again and feel my stomach drop to my ass in nervousness. I quickly walk out of the room and am pacing when the door opens up and Morgan walks out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What the hell were you thinking about in there?” He whispers, then pauses, “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Just leave me alone, Morgan. I’m embarrassed enough already.” I say quietly.

“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you too much. You’re just an easy target. If it helps any, Hotch was downright flushed after you left. He stumbled over his words. Twice. I’ve never seen him that flustered. It’s like he knew what you were thinking about.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

“You’re not the one who has to face him in his office,” I grumble.

“Well, just make sure you guys close the blinds.”

“MORGAN! Shut up!” He’s laughing as he walks away. JJ and Em shoot me sympathetic smiles as they walk by and Reid pats me on the shoulder. Hotch doesn’t say a word as he walks out of the boardroom, and I diligently follow him to his office.

“Take a seat.” He says, gesturing at the chair and my eyes follow his hand again. Y/N! Stop! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! I quickly take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. “Now do you want to tell me why you were so distracted today?” He asks, looking at me. I feel the heat creep up my chest and onto my cheeks.

“I-um-no. No, I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Really? Because Morgan seems to have an idea. Maybe I should go ask him what he thinks.”

“No!” I blurt out. “Sorry. It’s just…embarrassing.” He just looks at me and I sigh before whispering, “Your hands. I was distracted by your hands.”

“My…hands?” He says slowly.

“Yes, sir, I mean Hotch, sorry. I know it’s not appropriate and I apologize.”

“What is it about my hands?” He asks, his voice low and in a tone that makes my heartbeat travel down to my pussy. I shift in my seat, a movement that most likely does not go unnoticed by him. “Y/N. Look at me.” I take a shaky breath and look up at him, all rational thoughts leaving my head when I see that his cheeks are pink, and his pupils are so blown I can barely see the brown. “What is it. About my hands.” He enunciates every word.

“They’re big,” I whisper.

“And what does that make you think about?”

“Please don’t make me say it.”

“No, no I want to hear you say it.”

In the smallest voice possible I say, “I was wondering if your fingers would even fit in me.” I hear him take in a sharp breath. “What it would feel like to be spread out on your desk with - with your fingers inside of me.”

“Careful, Y/N, you’re walking a thin line.” He murmurs.

“Haven’t I crossed it already, sir?”

“I’m old enough to be your father.” He says, words clipped. I get a sudden burst of confidence and stare him down.

“Should I call you Daddy, then?” I ask sweetly. I watch as he tightens his jaw.

“Watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t want to see how mean Daddy can get.”

“And what if I want to find out, Daddy?” I watch as his nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath.

“That’s enough, Y/N.” He spits out and I still, and fear that I’m about to lose my job to ill-timed arousal. My breath hitches as he leans back in his chair, eyes carefully watching me. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you’d like to, sir,” I say simply and I watch his jaw tick again.

“Listen to me very carefully. We are going to go downstairs, you are going to gather your things, and you are not going to say a single word. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re not feeling well enough to drive, so I’m taking you home.” I swallow hard, not believing that this is actually happening right now. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly. “I need to hear you say you understand. Or else this stops now, and we don’t speak of it again.”

“I understand completely, sir.”

“Good girl.” He says in a low voice and a whimper escapes me before I can shove it down. He stiffens. “Do you like that? Hearing that you’re a good girl?” My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Yes, Daddy.” He hums, getting up quickly and my mouth goes dry when I see the tented fabric of his pants. He shrugs off his suit jacket and slings it over his forearm and in front of his body, effectively hiding his raging boner. He walks over to me, and I hastily get up from the chair, and he grabs my arm, gripping it just hard enough to keep me grounded and lucid despite the lust-filled thoughts in my head. He yanks open his office door and we make our way down the stairs. I keep my head down as we approach my desk, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Y/N isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home.” Hotch says, letting go of my arm so I can grab my jacket and purse. I glance at him, nodding that I have everything, and he grabs my arm again, and we hastily walk towards the elevator.

“GO EASY ON HER, HOTCH!” Morgan shouts, and I hear Em laugh.

“Shut up, Morgan.” Hotch growls over his shoulder, and I glance back at Morgan, who mouths ‘Good luck’ at me. “Don’t look at him. The only person you should be looking at is me, princess.” We get in the elevator, and he pushes the button so hard I think that he’s going to break the damn thing.

“Jesus, what’s got you so riled up?” I say sweetly, not caring that I’d probably pay for that question later. I just want to see him snap, lose that carefully cultivated control and unleash himself on me. He turns on me in a second, caging my body between the wall of the elevator and the hard planes of his body. He grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.

“Watch yourself. I’d hate for you to get into something you can’t handle.”

“I can take whatever you throw at me, sir.” He laughs.

“Yeah, right, princess. Keep talking a big game – we’ll see how far that gets you.”

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it?”

“Right where you wanted, I presume?” He asks, tilting his head and there’s nothing friendly in his eyes. I just nod, sucking in a breath when he pushes his body closer to mine and his hard-on is pressing into my thigh. “Before this goes further: green for go, yellow for slow down, red for hard stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?” I nod, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I understand!” I blurt out.

“Good.” He suddenly dips his head down, nose bumping into mine as we share the same breaths for a few seconds. “I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers onto my lips, not quite kissing me.

“Please. Ruin me, Daddy,” I whisper and he’s kissing me as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, stealing all the air from my lungs in a millisecond. I gasp when the hand from my chin drops to my chest, reaching into my dress shirt and under my tank top to tweak my right nipple. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. The elevator dings and his hand disappears from my shirt and his lips retreat. I whine at the sudden loss of contact, as we had just gone from 100 miles an hour to 0 miles an hour.

“I know, princess, I’m sorry. You don’t want Daddy to get caught, do you?” I shake my head vigorously and he chuckles, escorting me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. He gets in and starts the car as I buckle my seatbelt. He backs out of the parking spot, placing one hand on the back of my headrest and I suck in a sharp breath. He glances at me. “Really? You’re turned on by my driving?”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” I breathe out, not daring to look at him. My cheeks are warm, and I feel frazzled. I jump when his hand comes to rest on my thigh, dangerously close to where I want him. I shift my hips, trying to get him closer to where I need him. He smacks my thigh abruptly.

“Don’t do that. You can wait.” He says gruffly.

“I can’t. I can’t wait.” I gasp out. “Please. Please touch me. I need you. Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”

“I’ll oblige you, but only because you begged so prettily. I like it when you sound desperate. One rule though: no cumming without my permission.” His hand slips under my skirt and I thank god that this was one of the rare days I decided to wear one. His fingers ghost over my cunt, the lightest touch and my breathing is already starting to labor. When his fingers press my clit from outside my panties my hips buck into the air. “Someone’s responsive.” He says, more to himself than me. His fingers trail lower, and he groans when he feels the wet spot. “Already this wet for me, princess?”

“Only for you, Daddy.” I whimper when he pushes my panties to the side, hand now free to touch as he pleases. His fingers come up to tease my clit again before one deftly slips inside of me. I let out a choked sound, tight around him. Just one finger feels thick, and when he slips in another finger I keen, tightening again.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside of me that I struggle to hit by myself. I gasp, hand closing around his wrist, and I don’t know if I’m trying to stop him or egg him on. He continues to work his fingers in me as he drives and I’m not sure how he’s managing to stay on the road. I know I should reciprocate but the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me has made every thought I’ve ever had flee my brain. After a few minutes, my thighs start to shake and I’m panting, so close to a mind-blowing orgasm that I forget he told me I can’t cum without his permission. His fingers slip out of me seconds before I hit my peak.

“NO!” I shout, shaking in the passenger seat, sitting in a small puddle of my own arousal. I hope it stains his impeccable leather seats.

“Only good girls get to cum, and you haven’t been a good girl today, baby,” He says, “Open.” I open my mouth and he slips the fingers he just had inside of me into my awaiting mouth. I suck his fingers off earnestly, just like I would to his cock if he gave me the chance. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and I realize he’s parked the car in his garage. Is this really happening? I think to myself. “Color?” He asks me, turning my face so I can look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes.

“Green,” I say quickly.

“Good girl,” He whispers and meets my mouth in a messy kiss full of tongue, need, and teeth.

I don’t know how we made it inside, but as soon as I cross through the doorway, Hotch throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. He carries me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed. I’m paralyzed as I watch him rip his tie off, dress shirt following soon after. He’s beautiful, and I want to run my hands all over him and feel every scar. My eyes are tracing his chest and ever the profiler, he notices.

“You can touch. It’s okay.” He walks over to me, planting himself between my legs. I timidly touch his stomach, trailing my hands up his abdomen, running my fingers along his scars in quiet admiration. He suddenly takes my hand, kissing it, a break in the dominant façade. I give him a soft smile, one that has always been reserved for him, and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands cup my face, looking into my eyes, and I’ve never felt safer than I have at this moment. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, my hands resting on his wrists. It feels like we’re the only people in the world, two souls destined to collide. His next kiss is gentle as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he tosses his resolve out the window when I bite his bottom lip. He growls, pushing me onto my back and stepping out of his pants and boxers. I push myself up on my elbows to watch him and gasp when he’s revealed to me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I’ve had before. I knew it would be big because of his damn hands. “You’re far too dressed for my liking.” He mutters, and the next moment he actually rips my shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere.

“HOTCH!” He stops, looking at me.

“Try again, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. Daddy.”

“Much better. And Daddy will buy you a new one, okay?” I nod, suddenly unable to think as he slides off my tank top and unclasps my bra. My nipples are aching to be touched and as if he can read my mind, his head dips down to take my left nipple in his mouth. I suck in a breath, my hand coming to rest on the back of his head. His tongue laves over my nipple, and I swear I see God for a moment. He moves to the other side and my cunt is begging for attention. He slides my skirt and panties off without once leaving my chest. And when I’m naked before him, he kisses his way up my throat, leaving hickeys that will definitely be hard to hide.

“Daddy, people will see.”

“And? They should know whom you belong to.” He says plainly, he leans back, admiring my form and my hips jump up on their own accord, grazing his weeping tip in the process.

“Fuck, princess, don’t do that.”

“Please, please, please, Daddy, I need you so bad.”

“Daddy has to make sure you’re ready for him. I don’t know if my fat cock will fit in your tight little pussy.” I whimper at his words, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He slides down my body, pressing kisses into my skin as he goes until he gets on his knees, dragging me towards the edge of the bed. He slings both of my legs over his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss into my thigh. “Your pussy is dripping for me, princess. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” I manage to whisper, and I watch as his head dips down and he licks up my pussy. He groans against my clit when he tastes me, and I shout in surprise at the added stimulation. He chuckles against me and goes to work, tongue thrusting shallowly in me before coming up to tease my clit. He’s getting me closer to the edge and when I feel two of his fingers slide into me easily, I sigh contentedly. He finds the spongy spot inside of me with ease, hitting it every time he thrusts his fingers into me. I’m hurtling towards my peak when I gasp out, “Daddy, please, I’m close, can I cum? Please? I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Your good girl.” His eyes flick up and he watches me, never stopping, and watches as my abdomen tenses and I start to clench around his fingers, panting. He pulls his mouth away from me just long enough to whisper,

“You can let go, princess.” And resumes his torturous pace on me. My hand shoots down to grip his hair and a few seconds later my orgasm rips through me. I shout loudly, hips moving with abandon against his face, and he doesn’t let up, continuing to lick and finger me through it until I’m twitching with overstimulation.

“Daddy, please, too much.”

“You wanted to cum, princess, so you’re going to cum until I’m done.” He growls and goes back to eating me out. I had no time to come down from my first orgasm and my body is already sprinting full speed ahead toward my second. My thighs clench around his face but it doesn’t stop him. He stills his fingers inside me and simply presses them into my G-spot, never letting up, just putting constant pressure on it.

I’m babbling at this point, nothing coherent coming from my lips except for ‘daddy’ and ‘please’. My orgasm blindsides me and I clench hard around his fingers and scream, not caring if anyone can hear me. My vision goes spotty as I continue to cum until he finally slips his fingers out and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m gasping for air as his touch trails along my hips.

“Still with me, pretty girl?” I nod still gasping. “Color?”

“Green, green, green.” I pant out quickly and he chuckles. He gives me a few more seconds to come down, tracing gentle patterns into my sides and he kisses me once my breathing slows. I pull away to bite my way down his neck, leaving my own marks on him. “Daddy, need you inside me, please.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for me, princess?”

“Yes! Yes! So ready! Please just fuck me!”

“Okay, let me grab a condom.”

“No!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m clean. Please, I want to feel you. Just you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He says, kissing the tip of my nose. I watch as he pumps himself a few times and lines up with my entrance. He pushes in, just barely, and stays there until I’m begging him to push the rest of the way in.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel full. I feel so empty.” He sheathes himself in me in one quick motion and I gasp. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight.” He’s still above me, and I can see his shoulders shaking in restraint. “You feel like heaven.”

“Please move, please. Let go, I can take it.” I whisper, peering into his eyes and he pulls out a little bit to thrust shallowly. He swallows my moan with his lips, kissing me with the fervor of a man starved. He starts off at a slow pace and despite being sensitive from my previous two orgasms, I need more. I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me. Hard. Please. I can take it. All of it.” He looks at me hard, searching for any hesitation, but his dick is literally inside of me, so there’s no hesitation on my part. I nod up at him and he leans down to kiss me as he starts to set a brutal pace. His hips are slamming against mine and when I shift my hips up to meet his thrusts he hits my G-spot with every thrust. “SHIT!” I shout, the words quickly turning into a loud moan as his thumb comes down to flick at my clit. I’m shaking with arousal, and I can feel his balls slap against my ass with how hard he’s fucking me.

“Come on, pretty girl, I know you’ve got one more in you. Give it to Daddy. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” There are no thoughts in my head anymore, everything in me has zeroed in on the feeling of him literally fucking me into the mattress. “You look so pretty fucked out like this, bet you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, huh?” I nod and he laughs, kissing me hard. He leans back just enough to change the angle by shifting my calf onto his shoulder. He thrusts, hard, and I whimper. “You make such pretty sounds when I’m fucking you.” He picks up the pace again, moving his thumb on my clit in tight circles. I let out a broken moan as he hits just the right spot inside of me, and he takes note of it, hitting the same spot repeatedly, thumb keeping its pace on my clit. It’s overwhelming and I know that this orgasm is going to ruin other men for me. No one can do it like him. “Y/N,” his voice is low, “Look at me, baby, I want to watch you fall apart.” I drag my eyes open and look at him with dazed eyes. One particularly hard thrust and a drag of his thumb over my clit and I’m cumming violently, thrashing against him and gripping the bed sheets, my body spasming and I feel him fuck me through it and spill inside of me with a shouted curse before I black out.

I come to and can feel a warm washcloth being dragged between my legs gingerly. I hiss at the contact.

“Oh, thank god, are you okay?” I nod, throat raspy from screaming. “Can I get you anything?” I shake my head no, and the warm washcloth returns, I jump at the sensation. “I know, I have to clean you up though, okay?” He finishes in the next couple of moments and throws the washcloth into the hamper.

“How long was I out?” I say softly.

“Five minutes? Maybe six.” I nod.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Y/N, that was the biggest ego boost I’ve had in years.” He chuckles and I let out a weak laugh.

“Help me up?” I whisper, holding my hands out toward him. He obliges, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. My vision starts to go spotty again. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, starting to slump forwards. His arms wrap around me quickly, holding me against his chest until my vision starts to return to normal. His thumbs are rubbing my back and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. “I’m okay, I think,” I whisper after a minute and try to pull away but he only lets me get a few inches away, eyes worriedly searching my face. “Hotch, I’m fine. I swear. Now let me go so I can go pee.” He lets go of me slowly and when I stand up to walk toward the bathroom, my legs buckle underneath me. “Oh, come on!” I exclaim, but Hotch is right there to catch me. He scoops me up despite my protests and carries me bridal style to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet. “Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.

“No, don’t do that. I can see you trying to hide, getting embarrassed.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yeah, when your guard is down, you’re easy to read.”

“So, uh, do we just pretend this never happened? Go back to the way things were. I assume that’s what you want?” I bury my face in my hands, unable to look at him.

“Go back to the way things were? Y/N, baby, no. I can’t go back. This was not a one-time thing. I’m yours if you’ll have me.” I peek at him from between my fingers.

“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office. I just didn’t think you’d reciprocate, until Morgan made a comment two months ago about your body language, and that’s when I had the hunch you felt the same way.”

“So, you’ve known I’ve been pining over you for months and didn’t think to say anything?” My pitch gets higher as the sentence goes on.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes, I’m clearly uncomfortable with you as I’m sitting in front of you, naked,” I say drily and he laughs again.

“Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling, before adding, “But you’re my idiot.” His eyes brighten at that.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As you said, I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Good. Because I’m never letting go of you.” I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“Good, because I don’t want you to.”

#hotch x y/n #hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch smut

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deliciousangelfestival · 2 months

Text

The Lady - 6

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 ,-

I'd really appreciate it if anyone who likes this series could leave a comment or reblog with a GIF.

Could you let me know what your thoughts are? Reblogs and comments are the main things that keep me posting new stories. ❤️❤️❤️

You shot a glare at Bucky, who only chuckled in response.

Linking his arm with yours, Bucky suggested, "Let's go meet them together."

Rosie was taken aback when she spotted Bucky.

"I woke up today and still don't see the other half, Princess," Bucky quipped.

Maintaining her composure, Rosie replied, "You're too impatient. My assistant just delivered it to your club."

"Ooh, then I hope you like the service," Bucky retorted with a smirk.

"Impeccable," Rosie replied smoothly, before turning her gaze to you. She tilted her head slightly and added, "I always sensed that you're an adventurous person. I admire your work. I felt comfortable when I found out you're part of this."

You hadn't expected such a compliment from her. While you had met Rosie a few times before, you always felt a sense of superiority from her.

Surrounded by Eddie and Freddie, you never felt out of place. But when Rosie, with her royal blood as a princess, joined the group, the dynamic shifted, and the boys seemed to adopt a more regal demeanor.

Despite your ability to keep up with them, there were times during the summer when you preferred to retreat to Rupert's empty mansion.

You leaned in closer to Rosie and whispered, "Why did you do it?"

Rosie leaned in, her voice barely audible as she replied, "That man doesn't fit to be the future King. It wasn't me who wants him dead. I only lent a hand."

As Rosie spoke, you realized that the relationships within the royal family were even more intricate than you had imagined.

"Some people like your work," Rosie continued. "And I think you will get another client."

Bucky puffed out his chest proudly upon hearing this, nudging your shoulder. "You hear that? Encore."

However, you didn't share Bucky's excitement. While the client may have admired your work, you couldn't find any pride in the situation.

Excusing yourself, you stated, "I need to see my mom and Charlotte."

Once you were at a distance, you pulled out your phone and dialed the family lawyer, Cedric. "Cedric, we need to meet."

#########

Back at the Evergreen Estate.

Cedric informed you, "The debt you have to pay is 3 million." You requested him to find out everything about the debt, unwilling to rely solely on Bucky, as you suspected he wasn't giving you the complete picture.

Lighting a cigar, you took a few puffs in silence as Cedric continued. "The first 4 million already got paid with the building that Bucky used as his club."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That place used to be Rupert's?" Bucky's mention of Rupert profiting suddenly made sense.

Cedric confirmed with a nod. "With 5 jobs done with Barnes, you have completed 2. That means only 3 are left."

Leaning back in your leather chair, you tapped your fingers thoughtfully. "I don't want to finish the rest. I'll just give him the money. But I also don't want to use the money from savings."

Understanding your dilemma, Cedric pondered briefly before suggesting, "Selling the assets will take a while since the deadline to pay the debts is near. What about selling an artwork?"

His suggestion lightened your burden slightly. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, you inquired, "What artwork does Rupert have?"

Cedric's response was impressive. "One of a kind. One original artworks by DaVinci, Monet, and Van Gogh. One painting is worth more than 1 million pounds."

You nodded in agreement. "Good. Sell those. But will the transaction be quick?"

Confidently, Cedric nodded. "I know some people."

"Then, get all you need. You can have 10% from each artwork," you decided, showing trust in his abilities.

Cedric hesitated, "Your Grace, are you sure you want to let go of the paintings?"

You shrugged, unaffected. "I do explosions for a living, Cedric. I don't have the sentiment to admire a painting."

With a bow of his head, Cedric accepted your decision and left.

As you watched him depart, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. At least tonight, you could block any calls from Bucky.

##########

For two days, you relished in the tranquility of the countryside, finally having the chance to appreciate the simple joys of life. Breakfast with tea, a luxury you never had time for in your military days, now became a cherished routine as the head of the household.

But your peace was shattered when your mother, Susan, entered with a gloomy expression. “I saw some paintings taken down from the wall. Do you know the reason why, my dear?”

You remained focused on your newspaper, not bothering to look up. “I sold them.”

Susan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Why would you do that? Those masterpieces have adorned this house for years.”

Without lifting your gaze, you replied curtly, “So you’re more concerned about the paintings than paying off our debt?”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Flipping the newspaper page, you continued, “I’m the head of this household now, and I have full rights to do as I please, Mother. I refuse to be burdened by debts while you stand idly by.”

You added, a hint of frustration in your tone, “It’s better to sell the paintings than to risk losing the house, don’t you think?”

Susan gasped, taken aback by your audacity. She turned on her heels and stormed out of the room.

The tension lingered in the air, but you remained resolute in your decision, knowing it was necessary for your family's survival.

While the butler of the house remained stoic, devoid of any emotion like you, he asked, “Do you want a cup of coffee, Your Grace?”

You replied, “Yes, please. That would be great.”

The bitterness of the coffee offered a temporary escape from the turmoil caused by your childish mother.

But it seemed the universe had other plans, denying you the chance to find peace. You heard a familiar voice, the harbinger of your nightmares. “Make it two, please.”

Bucky entered with his usual high energy, greeting, “Good morning.”

Without awaiting your permission, he took a seat beside you. “So, last night someone came to my club and brought a briefcase with 3 million pounds inside. It's to pay off Rupert’s debt.”

You took a sip of the coffee. “Yes, that means our association has ended.”

Bucky's expression softened. “First of all, thank you for settling the debt on time. But it pains me to lose a friend.”

You retorted, “Find another one.”

Bucky sighed. “Don't want to. You're one of a kind.”

You acknowledged his compliment but remained firm. “I appreciate your words, but I have no desire to utilize my expertise in such a manner again.”

Bucky nodded understandingly. “Alright, I understand. But I don't want our friendship to end. And we're also business partners.”

He raised his coffee cup, proposing a toast. “To our new beginning.”

You pushed aside your coffee cup, the porcelain clinking against the saucer, echoing the heavy tension in the room. Every visit from Bucky seemed to herald trouble, and today was no exception. "Every time you come here, you bring bad news."

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, but there was an underlying tension in his posture, a sense of unease that matched your own. "Not this time," he insisted, but his words did little to assuage the growing apprehension in the air.

"Hmm." Your response was clipped, your mind already racing with dread-filled possibilities.

'Ring.' It was Eddie.

The sudden intrusion of the ringing phone shattered the fragile calm, jolting you and Bucky out of your uneasy silence. You answered, your hand trembling ever so slightly. "Hello?"

"I've got bad news."

The words from Eddie on the other end of the line felt like a confirmation of your worst fears. The room seemed to constrict around you, the air growing heavy with tension.

"What is it?" Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the anxiety that clenched at your chest.

"Charles. He got into a problem with the wrong people."

Your heart sank. The implications of Eddie's words hit you like a physical blow, sending a shiver of fear down your spine.

"How bad is it?" You struggled to maintain composure, but the panic threatened to overwhelm you.

"He's tangled up with a cocaine syndicate."

"Oh no." The words escaped your lips in a hushed whisper, laden with fear and dread.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

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Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 3 months

Text

Fire fire (hwanghyunjin)

"I've always liked to play with fire fire". Fire. If it wasn't for the fact that watching Hyunjin dance gave you the ultimate chills, fire would have been a very fitting word to evoke the burning sensation at the pit of your stomach.

Which you weren't sure was due to just the insane amount of passion and talent he was clearly displaying while running through the dance routine he self choreographed... Or the fact that Yeji was dancing with him. And you. Couldn't. Help. The. Jealousy. What a horrible horrible feeling jealousy is.

You hated it with a burning passion, the same passion you could clearly see in their dancing skills. They weren't even performing yet, just rehearsing at the dance studio, and yet their energy was impeccable, the control over their bodies astounding, they exuded talent. The routine was so intense and electric evrytime they locked eyes you felt just how complicit and in synch they were.

You almost felt like an intruder at some point, like you weren't supposed to be watching something so captivating, borderline intimate. You were so immensely proud of your boyfriend and in true, genuine awe of Yeji's skills, but you just couldn't shake the creeping vile thing tugging at your insides.

"Woah! That was awesome!", Hyunjin shouts, panting and sweating abundantly as he lurches forward to grab his water bottle and theatrically falls to the ground from the exhaustion, his arms and legs spreading apart so he's laying on the floor like a starfish. The song they had been playing on loop throughout rehearsals stops and you swallow down the uneasiness in your throat: you clap enthusiastically as Yeji bows and giggles bashfully, her bright ginger hair falling messily out of her high ponytail.

She looks lovely, you think. She is beautiful and fit and knows how to move her body so well. "You did a great job, guys. Well done very well done", you say earnestly, as they both thank you and exchange a quick, friendly goodbye hug, "I sincerely apologise but I really got to blast, I have a schedule in less than 20 minutes. Thank you so much for today", Yeji frets adorably, she bows deeply again and then gathers her stuff as she waves you and Hyunjin goodbye, a foot already out the door.

Hyunjin grabs a clean trowel from a wicker basket in the corner and alternates dabbing down his face and his neck to big swigs of water as he slowly recollects and calms down. He sprawls out on the floor next to you, his chest rising and falling quickly as his hand crawls on your lap for you to take it. You smile weakly at him and slightly play with his fingers, now that you're alone with him and the studio is silent, the sound of your own thoughts begins to grow louder, you really have to concentrate to try not to let them prevail over your mouth.

"Is everything okay?". You avert your eyes from your lap where you've been keeping Hyunjin's hand, even though you had long stopped touching him, so caught up in your head you absent mindedly just left him hanging there, your fingers suspended mid air above his own. You nod slightly, not daring to meet his eyes even though you can feel him looking at you, from the corner of your eyes you see him sucking in his cheeks and pouting as he fixes his eyes on your face in either concentration or brooding.

Hyunjin's not one to push you. He will observe you from afar and wait for you to make the first move if you wish to, but he's not going to initiate anything, this much you know. And there were certain times where you appreciated this observing, conscious side of him. You liked how he knew how to read the signs and gave you ample space and time to simmer down in order to eventually approach him. This being one of the times you're glad he isn't pushing you, though his whole demeanor speaks for itself as he's clearly not happy at how you seem to have shut down completely.

To be fair you two hadn't been very talkative the whole morning even while driving to the studio, you knew he had been working so hard to come up with the choreography for Play With Fire, endless were the days where he left at 6 in the morning and came back home at 1am. You also knew he had been practicing with Yeji for the last few weeks. The slimy seed of jealousy had been growing and growing inside of you for days on end now.

"Okay... I'm gonna go over the routine a couple more times and then we can go. You don't have to sit through this again if you don't want to", Hyunjin says lowly, already walking towards the Bluetooth speaker so he can restart the song. Something about his tone sounds a little condescending but a little meek too, and it makes you tick.

You know he's stressed out and overworked and you know you're not acting your best right now but you can't help but feel a mixture of annoyance and hurt. He had asked you to come see him at practice, you didn't just invite yourself over. You had been hesitant too, at first, mostly cause you thought the dance floor was his sacred place and you weren't supposed to invade his space.

When you eventually found out he was going to practice the whole routine with Yeji you had even insisted you weren't so sure it was right for you to be here, possibly meddling with the chemistry and coordination the performance required of them. "I want to be here, Hyunjin. I wouldn't have come in the first place otherwise", you say softly, but he doesn't hear you.

The music booms through the speakers again and he goes back into full performer mode. Somehow managing to dance just as consistently as earlier, if not with even more decisiveness and impactfulness in his movements. All the while remaining gracious, moving fluidly.

Here's something you always admired about him: he moved like water. The definition of fluidity and grace, an undertone of something very dramatic and intentional in the way he contorted his body, in the way the look on his face always matched the vibe and intensity of the song he was dancing to. His body was the show itself, in a way. And you were hypnotized.

This time he ends the routine by dropping on his knees right in front of you, the last act of his performance where he's supposed to snap to his side and point his arms and fingers to Yeji now happening before you, mere inches away from you, his eyes intense and dark as his breathing is labored and his whole body is tense.

You, on the other hand, are awestruck, your eyes wide and dumbfounded at the unexpected ending: "you are really fucking hot for doing that you know?". Your mouth moves before you can even form any other coherent thought and you slap your hand over your mouth while Hyunjin quite literally falls to the floor in high pitched giggles, hands clapping, knees shaking and all.

The tension finally breaks between you two and you laugh just as loudly, shaking you head in disbelief at the words that just came out of your mouth just like that. You fall on your back and hold your stomach from the cramps while Hyunjin crawls over to you and pecks your lips, "thank you, I really needed that", he exclaims, still giggling a little, he pushes back his newly cut red hair, his hand running through the shortened ends out of habit, he presses his forearm to his forehead, trying to dry some of his sweat.

He looks so hot, you weren't lying. You close your eyes and breath out the last of your laughter, your hand reaching for his, this time playing with his fingers with more intention to it, "I'm sorry for being so sulky, I promise I loved seeing you practice", you confess, "you sat through the same routine for over 4 hours, even if you didn't love it anymore, I would have understood that", he replies, his breathing still uneven and fast, "was there any reason for your being sulky? I thought you were mad at me", he adds after taking a swig if his water.

You open your eyes now, forced with the reality of having to fully confess. You pull yourself up a little and bury your face in your hands, "I feel terrible. I was never mad at you I'm just.....", you sigh and drag your hands down your cheeks in an exasperated manner, "I guess seeing you and Yeji dance like that made me feel... Jealous".

The cat's out of the bag and if for a brief second you felt even the tiniest but if relief in telling him, it's immediately followed by the most unnerving frustration at your own self, shame filling you right up.Hyunjin pries your hands away from your face and looks at you with fond eyes. Which is unexpected to say the least.

"Jagi...", he murmurs softly, cupping your cheek in his palm, "you're jealous of Yeji? For real?", he asks patiently, "It's so stupid I know, you guys are both so talented and so professional and you barely even touch while dancing and Yeji is so so lovely and sweet and I feel like a complete idiot". You didn't even mean to cry but fresh teardrops spill out of your eyes regardless. You feel horrible. On the other hand Hyunjin seems touched, sad for you even.

He gently kisses your tear stained cheeks as he tucks your hair behind your ears so they don't stick to your face, "it's not stupid and you're not an idiot. You just care, a lot. I'm sorry you felt like that, me and Yeji go back years and years. We were trainees together, me and Chan hyung used to hang out with her and Ryujin back in the day. As friends, just as friends. She's like a little sister to me".

You nod slightly, reaching for his hands so you can press soft kisses to his wrists and knuckles, "I'm sorry, please forgive me, I trust you, I really do. I just got too invested with how sexy the performance is", you mumble in between sobs, Hyunjin grins at you and coos, "it's okay y/n, it's okay", he slowly guides you down onto the floor, he hovers above your body and ever so gently distributes his weight on top of you.

He kisses your jaw and your neck, cushiony lips pressing on your throat, his damp hair tickles your chin and your faint sobbing mixes with the soft hiccups of your stifled laughs, "see... that's better, jagi, so much better", he murmurs.His heartbeat quickens against your ribcage, kisses become sloppier and hungrier, hands roam underneath your shirt.

Your limbs become tangled in a matter of few minutes, your pants are off, his breath is hot on you, your fingers knotting his hair. Fire. Chills. Fire again. You're burning up with lust now. Whatever trace of sadness and jealousy leaving your soul with every item of clothing that gets removed from your body.

"Hyunj-Hyune... uh" , you hiss as his teeth sink into an especially tender spot on the side of your neck, "what if-uh what if someone walks in?", you manage to ask, pulling at the last fragment of sanity left in you when Hyunjin rolls his hips into you, "door's locked", he replies hastily as he pulls down both his pants and his boxers at once to then reprise his kisses on your very swollen very red mouth, "the place is rented for another hour and half".

It has most definitely been over an hour and half but nobody has come knocking at the door. You and Hyunjin are still laying on the floor, still tagled, still breathless. The heavenly weight of his body and the feeling of him still inside of you are enough to keep you high and exhilarated long after your climax.

You kiss his cheek repeatedly as he pants, hiding in the crook of your neck. "Thank you", you mumble underneath your breath and Hyunjin lifts his head up just a bit, looking at you confusedly in his hazy, messy, wonderful state, "what are you thanking me for? For making love to you?", you giggle and peck his lips, "everything. Just everything. You certainly know how to love me good, really good". Hyunjin smiles contentedly and readjusts himself right back into you, "no need to thank me. Especially when I'm inside you. There's nothing I won't do for you".

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raineandsky · 15 days

Text

#115

The villain slips out of sight, and civilians crowd the hero before they can think to follow. Several microphones materialise half an inch from their face.

“What does it mean for the city when villains get away like this?”

“Why is this villain so difficult to catch?”

“[Hero], this way!”

“[Hero]!”

They can see one reporter elbowing his way to the front of the crowd. He nudges his glasses up his nose awkwardly, a clipboard in one hand and a voice recorder in the other. He looks like an old school nerd, in a way.

He manages to wrestle his way to the front of the mob, miraculously. The hero isn’t convinced even they could do that. He clears his throat, adjusts his shirt against his neck, and presses a button on his recorder.

“What are your relations to [Villain]?”

The hero could’ve not spotted him and it would’ve been the loudest question of them all. Their gaze snaps to him traitorously before they can stop themself. He stands there expectantly, his voice recorder raised slightly towards them.

“My relation to them is that they’re a criminal,” they say carefully, a response well-practised, “and I am the person who will put them behind bars.”

That prompts a flurry of more questions, but the hero can only watch this one reporter. He nods, and they’re not sure if he’s trained to stay neutral or if he doesn’t believe them. Their stomach flips uncertainly.

“Can you really be the one to put them away if they keep evading you?”

The hero wants to smite him where he stands. They try to force a confident smile that probably looks more pained. “Then the victory will be all the sweeter when I finally catch them.”

“Are you helping them?”

There it is. The other reporters go quiet, curious. The hero’s aware they probably look like a cornered animal, but they can explain that away later. They were worried that the masses are losing faith in them, perhaps. They can throw a speech together tonight.

“Why would I be helping a criminal, sorry?”

“I’ve done some of my own research.” The reporter pushes his glasses up again as he looks down at his clipboard. “The villain’s getaway car looks alarmingly similar to yours.”

Another flip. Would it be bad to claim they have somewhere to be? They don’t have any answers prepared for this. The reporter’s watching them with an intensity that’s making them feel sick. Avoiding the question is worse, surely.

“It’s not my fault if [Villain] has impeccable taste.” They glance out over the sea of people, trying to seem distracted. Fuck it. Time to go. “Look, guys, I’ll answer everyone’s questions when I’m not actively chasing a criminal. Job first, interviews second.”

The hero flees like the fury of god is chasing them. They can feel eyes on them as they go, that little pain in the ass watching them the most intently.

They practically throw themself into their car, slamming the door like it’ll hide them from the outside. “Took you long enough,” the villain says from the backseat.

“Reporters,” the hero explains shortly. The villain hums thoughtfully.

“Always is.” The villain sighs, tearing their gaze from their phone and up to the hero. “What’s this week’s conspiracy?”

The hero turns the car on to ignore the question for a moment. “They think I’m working with you.”

The villain barks a laugh at that. “Can you imagine?” Their eyes turn back down to their phone amusedly. “A’ight, let’s get outta here.”

Gladly. The hero pulls out of the little alleyway, checking the streets for reporters, unexpectedly nervous, and onto the road. They always take the back roads like this. They don’t need any more reason for people to get suspicious. One reporter putting the thought in people’s heads is enough.

“Don’t get any ideas, by the way,” the villain pipes up after a bout of silence. The hero was quite content to listen to the rumble of the engine all the way back. “You work for me, not with me. Let’s keep it that way.”

The hero nods. The less they have at stake in this stupid little charade, the easier it’ll be to get the hell out at the first opportunity anyway.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #i have some BIG SHIT happening tomorrow yall #work has me doin a big filming project that i have p much put together by myself #im excited but its the biggest thing ive tried to pull off alone for quite some time. maybe ever #im putting this in my queue like 2 weeks before. future me do we have our shit together for tomorrow #HEY PAST ME. WE SURE AS FUCK DO NOT

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misseviehyde · 5 months

Text

GHOST LIT

Melissa had never thought she would meet the love of her life, fall instantly in love and get married so quickly, (especially after being single for so long) - but all her dreams had finally come true. Dan was gorgeous - a well-read and well-spoken gentleman who had an impeccable taste in fashion and interior decoration and was the CEO of a small, but successful limited company.

Melissa was a piano teacher, and she'd met Dan when he came for lessons. As he brushed back his sexy hair and grinned at her with his confident smile, she'd felt her stomach flutter and known she had finally met the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Her heart had sank when she'd seen the wedding ring on his finger, but he'd blushed at her gaze - almost reading her mind.

"I... was... married. She died in an accident. I still wear the ring, though I don't know why. My former wife... well she wasn't a very nice person. It wasn't until she died that I realised she'd been dominating my life, gas-lighting me into thinking everything was my fault. She had me totally under her heel and treated me very poorly. Sorry, I shouldn't speak so ill of the dead, but I'm glad she died, I finally feel free. That's why I'm having these lessons, I want to live - I want to finally do all the things I should have done when I was married to Cassandra."

They'd hit it off immediately and begun dating a week later. A year later and they were married - and Melissa was finally moving into Dan's amazing mansion home. She didn't care that he was rich, or that he'd lived here with his evil ex-wife... all that mattered was that she was finally with the man of her dreams.

Still - as they passed into the house, Melissa couldn't help but shiver. The house still bore the marks of Cassandra's spoiled influence. The more Melissa had learned of the evil, manipulative, vain and cruel Cassandra - the more she was glad she had never met the bitch. She wondered how Dan had ended up with such a bad girl - or why he had allowed her to gaslight him for so long. Dan had told him that Cassandra had even fucked other guys, but somehow made him feel it was his fault for being an inadequate lover.

"She gets into your head and makes you her puppet," he had sighed sadly. "Sorry - I mean, got into your head. You know... it's funny, but sometimes I almost feel like she is still here. Crazy I know! Just ignore me, I'm being a fool of course."

That had really made Melissa shiver. The thought that Dan's ex-wife might be haunting the house - watching them like some malicious purveyor really made her feel uncomfortable. Good job she didn't believe in ghosts.

"This is our home now baby," she had smiled. "We're going to be happy here. Now forget all about your ex-wife and lets start our new life together."

****

In the dark corners of the bedroom an evil spirit gloated as it watched Melissa innocently unpack her things. At last - a woman was here. A weak, willed, goody-two-shoes of a woman. A foolish little slut with no idea of the transformation she was going to undergo. Cassandara smiled as she drifted close to her victim and tasted her innocent spirit. Sustained by spite and bitterness, the spirit of Dan's former wife looked appraisingly at Melissa as an artist might look at a piece of clay. So much potential... so much fun to be had.

Melissa shivered and she turned her head, almost as if she sensed something. Weird, it felt like she was being watched. For a moment the tension seemed to stretch out and then Melissa shrieked and nearly jumped out of her skin, as with a clatter, something fell from the top of the wardrobe... almost as if it had been pushed off. Regaining her composure, Melissa convinced herself the object had fallen naturally and walked over to pick it up. It was a jewel case containing a DVD. Why it had been hidden on top of the wardrobe, she wasn't sure.

"What the hell is this?" she mused, walking over to the bedroom TV and sliding the DVD into the player beneath. It whirred up and Melissa sat on the bed to watch. To her surprise when the screen came on, it showed a video of the very bedroom she was now sitting it, only it was at night. Red candles and soft lighting lit the room, and the sheets were white satin.

Melissa gasped and her hand went to her mouth as she saw two figures on the bed. One was Dan, only slightly younger looking - the other was an amazing looking woman with a perfect, toned, body and firm full breasts. Her body oozed sensuality as with a moan of pleasure she lowered herself onto Dan's cock and began to ride him.

Melissa watched in horror as the woman in the video fucked her husband. Fucked. That was the only way to describe it. When she and Dan had sex it was gentle love-making, this was like watching a porn video. Dan's face was a mask of ecstasy, the woman on top of him moaning as she thrust her hips obscenely like she wanted to suck his dick up into herself and she took his straining cock deeper and deeper inside her.

"Oh Cassie, fuck me," he moaned... "I need you so badly."

"That's right Dan," she hissed, "my pussy controls you - only I can make you feel this way. Say it."

"YES! OH YES, CASSIE, your pussy owns me - you're better than every other woman. Only you can make me feel this way."

"Mmmmmh, good boy - I will ALWAYS be in control of your life."

Melissa felt sick to her stomach, yet she couldn't stop watching. Cassie bounced on top of Dan with hot wet slaps, moaning and laughing as she squeezed her tight pussy around his dick and made him hers. Dan was shaking, his uncontrollable lust for his bitch wife clear to see. His eyes shone with devotion and with a wracking sob, Melissa realised he had never looked at her like that.

"Oh my God Dan, why did I have to see this?" she sobbed. "I thought we had a special connection, but now I see what you were like with her... you'll never need me like you needed her. I can't believe this, I can't compete with that bitch!"

Hearing movement downstairs, Melissa quickly turned off the DVD, ejected and hid it under the bed. She used some tissues to quickly blot her tears and put on a fake smile as Dan entered the room. He walked over and put his arm around her lovingly. "Everything okay baby?"

"Of course," she lied, "everything is fine."

****

It was hours later and Melissa couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about the DVD and what she had seen. The scene seemed to replay in her mind again and again and again. As she lay in the bed, tossing and turning, with Dan snoring next to her, she wanted to scream but she couldn't.

Grinning maliciously, Cassandra floated over to Melissa and took a position up behind the bed-head. Reaching down she slid her spectral fingers towards Melissa's brow and sighed pleasurably as her phantasmal digits slid into the other woman's head. She'd tried this before, but Melissa's unconscious mental defences had been too strong. Now her mind was wide open.

Melissa groaned in relief as a sudden cool sensation seemed to slide into her head. After hours of restlessness, she suddenly felt drowsy, and though the sex scene in her head continued to play - it no longer made her feel sad. Instead she began to feel horny as she watched the lovers fuck.

The memory became a dream, and as she watched the lovers rutting - Cassie's face seemed to melt like wax and then reform. With a gasp of astonishment Melissa realised she was now watching herself riding Dan - only, with a body like Cassie's. Melissa couldn't believe how good her face looked on that bitchy body, all tanned and perfect. She felt her heart beat faster and a sudden yearning to be like the woman in her dream and make this fantasy come true began to fill her mind.

Why not become more like Cassie? Why not see if you can make Dan lust for you like he used to lust for her?

Melissa sighed happily in her dreams as strange thoughts and whispers filled her mind and her lips twisted into a unfamiliar smile. Finally she slept, and her dreams were sooooo naughty that night...

*****

Dan blinked in surprise as he walked into the kitchen to find Melissa on a stool whistling and doing her makeup. For a second he was struck by deja-vu then he realised why.

"Melissa, are you wearing my ex-wife's clothes? What the hell? I packed all that stuff away in the garage months ago! Did you go unbox it?"

Melissa looked at him in confusion. "Baby, I found this stuff in my wardrobe, I thought since you'd left it out, you wouldn't mind me wearing it. I never thought of wearing clothes like this before, these leather pants feel really nice. Don't you like how they look?"

Dan had to admit that Melissa did look good in Cassie's bitchy clothes... he felt his cock twitch. There was something kind of hot about nice girl Melissa being a bit more like his nympho-ex, but why was she lying to him?

"Melissa, tell the truth - I never left those clothes out - you must have got them from the garage."

Melissa frowned, "Dan - I promise you, they were in my wardrobe when I woke up this morning. Are you accusing me of being a liar?"

"Of course not," he said reluctantly - but full now of spite, he snapped - "They don't fit you anyway, you'd need to lose weight and tone up to pull those off."

Melissa scowled. "Maybe I will then!" she snarled, stomping off back up to the bedroom.

Dan immediately regretted being mean to Melissa, but he was too proud to go apologise, so he left her to fester.

Cassie smiled as she invisibly watched - it had all played out exactly as she had known it would. Floating through the wall into the bedroom she smirked as she floated behind Melissa and slid her fingers into the other woman's head. They slid in easier now, like Melissa's mind was embracing their touch - almost pulling them in.

Melissa's eyes widened slightly and a lovely relaxed feeling throbbed through her body as Cassie's evil influence pulsed into her body. The clothes seemed to pulse with the same corruption, Melissa was now encased in Cassie's bitchiness and it was starting to transfer into her body.

He's right - you do need to tone up and shape up - and you will. You know you deserve to wear these clothes and you only want to dress like this. Throw away all your old clothes, go to the garage and take all of Cassie's things - replace your entire wardrobe with hers. Dan will only lust for you if you become more like Cassie. Do it...

Melissa moaned as her brain pulsed with pleasure. Standing up she walked to her wardrobe and with a sneer, began to rip her old clothes out. It was time to upgrade... and join a gym.

****

"Yes, this is more like it," smiled Melissa as she admired herself in the mirror a few weeks later. The amount of weight and toning up that she had achieved in such a small amount of time was incredible. In fact, it was almost supernatural. If she didn't know better she'd say that some outside force had been assisting her - speeding up her physical transformation from a slightly frumpy housewife into a toned and athletic looking hottie.

Dan had certainly noticed, but not complained - their sex becoming more ambitious and his pleasure in her superior body noticeable. Melissa had almost completely stopped playing the piano or taking lessons in order to shape up and Dan hadn't objected when she had told him she wouldn't be contributing to the finances this month.

In truth, he felt guilty that he had told Melissa she needed to shape up, and his guilt gave her power over him. Power Melissa was starting to enjoy.

She walked into her bedroom and sat on the bed. All at once the delicious tingling throbbing feeling she got in her head whenever she was in this room came back and she smiled happily. She always had her best ideas in the bedroom - it was almost like someone was projecting ideas into her head and the more she relaxed and welcomed it, the faster the ideas seemed to come.

"Yes, I should try on some of the tighter, bitchier, clothes that Cassie used to own. I can probably fit into them now," grinned Melissa as she opened the wardrobe where she had put all the naughtiest clothes she had found - but had not quite been able to fit into - in. Now she was about the same body build as Cassie though, it should be easy.

Melissa shivered as she stroked the latex clothing, faux-fur, leather boots and bougie jewellery on display. Could she really wear this stuff? It seemed like something some sort of slutty bad bitch might wear.

"Hurry up and try them on... you're going to feel sooooo fucking hot and horny in those clothes. Haven't you seen how Dan has been responding to your physical improvements, next you need to start acting like a bad-bitch. He enjoys being bullied and pushed around, it actually turns him on. Try it. Put on an outfit and go tease him."

Melissa shivered and nodded. Sometimes it felt like there was a voice in her mind whispering such deliciously evil things to her, but she had to admit - everything the voice told her to do worked. With shaking hands she reached out and chose a bitchy outfit.

It was tight - far tighter than anything she had ever worn. A tight black one-piece black and white bodysuit. It was funny how the suit seemed to squeeze her tits up and out - she was sure they seemed bigger these days. High heels shoes also pushed her up - her feet felt smaller and more arched since she moved in with Dan and a generous application of expensive makeup made her look like a total bitch.

She was immediately aroused and she felt hotter and more powerful than ever before. With a confident stride, she clip clopped around the room, smirking at the feeling of power Cassie's clothes gave her. It felt like the old her was being smothered and something cruel and bitchy was taking over. She loved the feeling and wanted more.

Striding next door, Melissa felt arousal as Dan gasped at her outfit. His eyes lustfully drank in her body and she smirked to see the effect she was having on him. He came towards her, but she disdainfully pushed him away. "You'll spoil my makeup, keep back. You've been pissing me off lately, so if you want a piece of my ass, you're going to have to start treating me better."

For a moment Dan looked like he might object... then he licked his lips nervously. "Yes... dear, whatever you say. I'm sorry."

Melissa felt her pussy tingle and her nipples get hard. Wow - making your man do what you wanted, felt really good. "Good boy, perhaps later, if you're good I'll reward you - but for now I'm going shopping and I want to spend some big money. You don't mind do you dear?"

"Of course not baby," muttered Dan.

Melissa was acting more and more like his old wife every day - yet somehow, that was really turning him on.

******

Cassie looked around the shop in delight - her hold over Melissa had grown strong enough that she was now finally able to leave the house. A thin cord of energy, steadily growing thicker and heavier was growing between them and Cassie could feel her influence pulsing into the other woman, feeding Melissa's lust, ambition and cruelty.

Melissa's body had changed so much in the last few weeks and the stupid bitch hadn't even questioned how her tits had got three sizes bigger. Instead, she was proud of her sluttier body and thanks to the constant corruptive thoughts Cassie was sending into her protegee's head - she was getting worse by the minute.

"Yes, I deserve nice things and for Dan to pay for it all," hissed Melissa in glee as she tried on a pair of $500 boots that felt so nice over her latex bodysuit. She knew she didn't need the boots but she wanted them, so she took them. It felt great to get what she wanted and be a spoiled bitch.

Melissa admired herself as she passed a mirror. She'd been for a full body-wax this morning and her perfect abs, big-booty and huge tits were straining to break free of her super tight bodysuit. She looked amazing and she revelled in feeling the hungry stares of men and women alike as they passed her. "I'm a fucking Goddess," she laughed as she strutted down the street in her new boots, heading for home.

Entering the house, Melissa found Dan in the living room and beckoned him with a finger. "Come with me. I'm horny and I want you to fuck me."

They entered the bedroom and Dan excitedly unzipped Melissa out of her latex suit - her smooth, naked body ready to be ravished. She smiled excitedly as she pushed him onto the bed and drawing the curtains lit a number of candles. There - now things looked exactly as they had on the DVD. Dan seemed confused, but also turned on as Melissa straddled him and with an excited gasp lowered herself onto his cock.

"Oooooh, yes," she groaned loving how good it felt to finally be the bitch of her dreams as she began to gyrate her hips and ride her husband, just as she'd seen on the video.

"Oh my God Melissa, your pussy feels so tight... it's amazing," groaned Dan.

"I've been working out," purred Melissa as she fucked her man. "Tell me that you like the bitchy new me, tell me how much you love that I've become more like your ex-wife."

"Ohhhh yes, I love what you've become, I don't know why or how, but it turns me on so much."

"Good boy," purred Melissa as she increased her bounces. "I love what a bad girl I'm turning into and it feels like there is still so much more for more to do."

Cassie watched proudly as Melissa took control of Dan and made him her pussy slave. Corrupting the other woman had been so much fun and there was still so much more to do. A bit more gas-lighting and Melissa would be even bitchier. Cassie was wondering if eventually she could even make the other woman worse than she had ever been.

It was definitely going to be fun to try...

****

EPILOGUE (Weeks later)

Ghosts don't sleep - but they do fade in and out from time to time. Cassie had been somewhere else when she was suddenly rudely pulled into reality.

She was in a room - her living room - only there were candles lit everywhere. This wasn't something she had planned... what was happening?

In the middle of the room around the table sat Melissa and Dan. They were holding hands and Melissa had her head thrown back as in rapture.

"Hear me... spirit of this place. I summon thee and bind thee. Thou shalt obey me."

"Honey are you sure this is a good idea? You don't really believe there is a ghost do you?"

Melissa's lips twitched into an evil smile. "Oh yes honey. There is a ghost and I know who she is. But don't worry - I know how to deal with her."

Cassie felt a flash of panic and admiration. How had Melissa learnt of her existence - she thought she had been careful.

"Oh spirit of Cassie. I bind thee and summon thee into my body. All your bitchiness, all your knowledge shall be mine. I absorb thee and consume thee. Make me even more powerful!"

Cassie tried to fight, but her spirit was being pulled towards Melissa. She screamed as she was sucked into the other woman, her personality and consciousness unravelling as Melissa greedily sucked her up and consumed the concentrated evil.

Melissa screamed in pleasure, her tits swelling up even bigger and her body becoming hotter and stronger as she absorbed all of Cassies power, knowledge and memories.

In moments it was done. The ghost was no more and now only the fully evolved bitch Melissa remained.

"Mmmmh," she giggled stretching her slutty body with pride. "I love how it feels to be such a fucking bitch. Now I have ALL the power."

"Did you banish the ghost my love?" stuttered Dan.

"What ghost?" smirked Melissa fake innocently. "You must be imagining things. There was never any ghost and if there was - well she isn't a problem anymore."

Laughing cruelly Melissa strode off leaving her pussy whipped gas lit husband to tidy up the room.

She was the only bitch around here now and she wouldn't be manipulated by a ghost.

She was the gas-lighter now... and she loved it.

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption #ghost #influenced #personality change #evil bitch #good to evil

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kaciidubs · 6 months

Text

Pumpkin for my Pumpkin | Spooktober 2023

❣ Summary: It was just a simple pumpkin picking date... right? ❣ ❣ Word Count: 2.4k ❣ Warnings: Dom! Seungmin, Reader is a tease, degradation, begging, creampies, semi-public sex [car sex], fluff, smut with feelings, clothed sex ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Seungmin is referred to as Baby and Minnie, Reader is referred to as Pup and Bub[s] ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Spooktober 2023

Seungmin was never like this - he was never like this at all.

He prided himself on self control - being cool, calm, and collected when he wanted to be, while also allowing himself to go off of impulse when he was comfortable enough to do so.

This was one of those times.

When you offered him to go on a pumpkin picking date to settle into the new season, he accepted with no hesitation; the weather was perfect, he had the day off, and he’d be lying if he wasn’t looking forward to the eventual pumpkin carving contest you both would have afterwards.

What he didn’t expect, however, was for you to wear quite possibly the hottest outfit he’d ever seen - not that it was any type of extravagant to begin with; a cute tank top tucked into a thigh-length skater skirt, paired with a fluffy cardigan and those shiny black boots he got you for your birthday.

Simple.

Stylish.

Sexy.

His eyes were trained on the hem of your skirt, watching as it swayed with each step you took around the pumpkin patch, your thighs practically glowing from the golden light of the sun.

He could practically feel the heat of them on his ears as he spreads them open to-

“What about this one, Minnie?”

His heated gaze snapped to where your finger was pointing, easily narrowing in on an oddly shaped pumpkin among the other oddities of the group; it was more oval shaped than round, provided a lot of surface area to carve but didn’t look stable enough to stand on its own.

“Honestly?” He paused, listening for your hum for him to continue, “Doesn’t look like it’d last long, it might be lopsided and if it falls over it’s automatically disqualified in the contest.”

You gasped in dramatic disdain, “It won’t fall over! Look-”

He watched as you quickly stepped past a few scattered pumpkins to get to your target, and his heart nearly stopped when you bent over to pick up the overgrown gourd; your skirt threatening to expose more than just the curve of your ass decorated in the fishnets you wore.

Even just the simple flash of skin had his dick stirring in his jeans.

“The bottom is flat! It’s perfect, you can’t tell me it isn’t!”

Being someone who had impeccable self control, he was able to push past his raging hormones to easily catch the sparkle in your eye, a familiar glimmer that he’d seen time and time again.

You knew what you were doing.

Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, he nodded passively, “Get it.”

He didn’t miss the victorious smile that stretched your lips, hugging the pumpkin to your chest as you carefully made your way back to his side. “Did you wanna get one from this pile or keep looking around?”

At this point, he didn’t have the patience to humor you - not when the way you were holding the pumpkin made your breasts push up toward the neckline of your tank top.

He stooped down to pick up the closest pumpkin; it was cute, rounder than yours but a bit smaller in height, it would get the job done as far as he cared at this point - showing it off with a tight lipped smile.

“Got it, let's go.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, eyes flitting between him and the pumpkin that definitely went against his usual style, “Are you sure-”

“I’m sure, pup - now let’s go.”The insistence in his voice made chills run down your spine, pressing your lips together to fight back the grin aching to spread on your face - your plan had worked.

Granted, you truly did intend for this day to be a simple date for the two of you, but it had been a while since you’d purposefully gone out of your way to test your boyfriend’s resolve and to be frank; you missed dabbling in a bit of mischief for the benefit of your, and his, pleasure.

Following him toward the pay booth of the pumpkin patch, you watched him fish out a $20 bill for the price of the two pumpkins, give the lovely woman a quiet “Thank you.”, and nod his head in the direction of the exit.

The walk to the car seemed farther than it did when you both initially arrived, the car waiting patiently at the furthest end of the lot due to the large attendance earlier in the afternoon. The tail lights flashed, signaling the car unlocking, but before you could take your place in the front, Seungmin stopped you with a hum.

“Put the pumpkin in the front, you get in the back.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, jaw dropping slightly, “What? Why-”

“If I have to repeat myself again, it’s not going to be pretty for you, pup.”

Meeting his firm stare, you did what any rational person would do with a command like that; opening the front door to place your pumpkin in the seat that was supposed to be yours, before swinging open the back door and shuffling your way in.

It took a beat for him to do the same, but once he was in the back with you, he leaned his back against the car door, “Lay on your back.”

You opened your mouth to comment but shut it immediately after - now that you were in the position of getting what you needed, you didn’t have much resolve to keep arguing with him. So, like he asked, you shuffled your way into laying on your back across the seats, suddenly entirely thankful for the tinted windows of the company car.

“You couldn’t just let one day go smoothly without showing off how desperate you are, could you?” He muttered lowly, pushing your legs apart to kneel between the empty space, his hands wasting no time in bunching your skirt up to your waist. “You were the one who suggested we even go on this date, yet here you are, cutting it short because you don’t know how to control yourself.”

“Seungmin, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” You smiled up at him, excitement dancing through your voice as you felt his warm fingers trace your skin over your fishnets.

He spared you a fleeting glance, cocking his eyebrow before scoffing, “Enjoy it? Sure, okay.” Without warning, his hands went to the crotch of your tights and pulled at the delicate fabric, breaking the threads and tearing a hole down the inseam. “I enjoyed it, and I’m gonna enjoy this even more.”

“You did not just- Ah!”

His thumb pressed against the gusset of your panties and he hissed out a breath, the cotton already damp from your arousal.

“I bet if we stayed any longer you would’ve been dripping.”

Pulling his hand back, he got to work on his jeans, undoing the button and zipper to shuffle them and his boxers down just enough to free his hardening cock.

Shuffling himself closer, he slid his hand between your thighs and tugged your panties to the side with his fingers, exposing the warmth of your cunt to his glistening tip. Being outside all day meant he couldn’t dare to think about touching you without washing his hands, but he would make this work just as easily - he just needed a little patience.

You sensed this hesitation and squeezed his hips with your thighs, “I’m wet enough, like you said, so fuck me already.”

Scoffing, he shook his head in faux astonishment, “You’re insatiable.”

Needing no other encouragement, he used the fingers of his free hand to drag the head of his cock through your folds, nudging against your clit and collecting your arousal before notching himself at your slit and slowly pushing himself in.

Without his usual preparation, the stretch was slow, but it was worth it once the tops of his thighs met the back of yours - your pussy wrapped snugly around him and fluttering for more.

“Fuck… This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His rhetorical hung in the air as he ground his hips into yours, “Wanted to get fucked in the back of the car like the horny slut you are, hm?”

His words sent a sear of heat down your spine that settled in the pit of your stomach, your right leg opening just a bit wider since your left was squished between his side and the seat. “N-No-”

“No? Pup, there’s so many things you’re good at,” He drawled, one hand holding your hip while the other gripped the edge of the edge of the seat, his hips drawing back slowly, “but lying is definitely not one of them.”

A quick thrust punctuated his statement, sharp and deep, sending a gasped moan flying from your lips as you pressed the back of your hand to your lips; your other hand grabbing and holding onto his jacket clad shoulder.

Seungmin tsked, an amused smirk growing on his lips and a familiar dastardly shine glimmering in his eyes. “Quiet, don’t want us getting caught by anyone here, do we?”

From then on, his pace was quick and brutal; his body eclipsing yours as he all but fucked you through the backseat of the car, hushed degradations and grunts accented by breathless moans and whimpers bouncing around the interior.

It was hot - desperate - between the way his hips snapped into yours and the way one leg ached to lock him in while the other had your shin against the back of the driver's seat, you were certain if he hadn’t parked as far as he did, the evidence of your new ‘activity’ would’ve been realized.

“Shit- Let me hear you, bubs.” His body dropped closer against your own, shivering when your cunt pulsed around his dick, eager for every quick thrust he was giving you. “Move your hand, let me hear those moans of yours.”

You could tell he was getting close, if not from the way his cock was twitching then by the way he demanded to hear you - his desire to hear your fucked out voice tell him how good he was making you feel shining through, even at the most inopportune of times.

Dropping your hand to grab the collar of his shirt, a honey coated whine dripped from your tongue, “M-Minnie, baby, please make me come - need it so bad.”

The second your plea fell from your lips, a harsh realization dawned on you; you’d have to come just from penetration, your poor little clit neglected since his first touch through your panties.

Seungmin was a thorough lover, he knew all of your spots, all of the buttons to press to make you tick and switches to flip to make you last just as long as he desired - it was rare for him to get you to come without a combination of those and a thumb or finger rubbing messy circles around your nub.

He nodded firmly, strands of his bangs tickling your forehead, “You can come like this, I know you can, you know you can.”

Despite his reassurance you could feel the fire in your abdomen start to singe you, not quite the heat that spread through your limbs in a wave of ecstasy, but a warmth that refused to go elsewhere.

“Seungmin, I need- I can’t-” You needed more, that one extra push to send you over the edge, but he couldn’t give it to you; your body growing restless as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Touch me, please? Please, I’m so close, just-”

“Hey, hey, look at me.”

Doing as he said, your eyes locked onto his own and your heart swelled; the warmth and pure adoration sparkling in his irises making a chill run down your spine.

“You can, okay? Stop thinking so hard and just focus on me.” He dipped his head down, brushing his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss, “Focus on me, bub - only me.”

You nodded your head as much as you could before leaning up to catch his lips again. His right hand gripped your hip tighter, while the left dug into the edge of the seat further, giving him more leverage as he thrusted slower, deeper.

If he couldn’t use his hands, then he'd simply use another trick that would give you both what you wanted.

Gasping into his mouth, your arms tightened around his neck, “Oh fuck!”

Seungmin grunted, trying his best to not pay attention to the way your pussy sucked him in - every minute flutter or clench sending shocks of pleasure through his dick and up his spine. He would have time later to tease you about your reactions, for now, the only thing he was focused on was making you come first.

Shuffling his knees forward just a bit, he delivered a sharp thrust that had your back arching, chest pressing against his.

There.

Steeling his resolve, he aimed every thrust to that spot; swallowing every airy moan with breathless kisses, and replying to every whine with knowing hums.

“Come on, bub, I know you can do it,” he grunted, lifting his head slightly to watch your face, “I can f-feel you clenching, just come for me.”

“Minnie.” Your lips pouted, glistening eyes pinning him with so many emotions it made his head spin - but the twinkle that caught his eye made his dick harder than before.

“I’m here, ‘m right here- I-” When your hands squeezed his shoulders, eyebrows pinched and eyes pleading, everything clicked. “I love you.”

When your eyelids fluttered, he grinned, leaning down again to rest his sweaty forehead against your own.

“I love you, I love you - Please, come for me, bub."

Your right hand tangled itself into his hair, fingers gripping at the root and holding him as your legs began to tense.

“Say it back,” Seungmin whispered, pleading, “say it back, pup.”

“I-I love you.” You nearly sobbed, pussy clenching as he pushed you closer and closer. “I love you, I-I-” Your voice tapered off into a moan, hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm swept you away.

He followed suit with a choked gasp, his body stilling against yours as his cock twitched with each rope of come pumped into you.

It only took a few moments for him to come back to himself, huffing out a short breath before giving your lips a quick, sweet peck.

“Just so you know,” he hummed, admiring the soft glaze now set in your eyes, “when we get home, your real punishment starts.”

A tired laugh shook your shoulders, staring up at him with a content smile, “I’m looking forward to it.”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @bandolls, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @sunnyhonie, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @all4innie, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric

✧. ┊Kinktober only: @selicua

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader

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