#(three if you count the ten one but at least she's not in any real and immediate danger) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alltheirdamn · 7 months ago

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Epilogue

Summary: Joel had always been the one. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: None! Enjoy whatever comes! A/N: So, here we are at last. The final goodbye to one of my favorite pairings :') It is so bittersweet to end their story, but I am so thankful you all have supported it and loved it along the way! Tommy & Beth's story will be coming soon, so I hope you guys stick around for it! All my love, xoxo <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“Sarah!” You called from downstairs. “We need to leave soon so we aren’t late!”

“Coming!” She shouted back.

You could hear her footsteps shuffling across the loft, no doubt in a rush trying to find her backpack. It was the first day of school, and you were the brand new eighth-grade teacher—totally not because you wanted to keep teaching Sarah before high school.

The three of you had spent the summer in a whirlwind, between camping trips and helping Joel work on a business plan for his own job. You even took a small trip to Boston to see your family; you needed to get the closure you deserved finally. But you couldn’t think about that trip now; you needed Sarah to hurry up.

“Joel,” you grumbled. “Can you please get her down here?”

Joel was leaning against the kitchen counter, his coffee mug half-full and lifted to his lips. He rolled his eyes at you, his lips curling into a soft smile.

“I got it, baby. Go get your ass in the car, and I’ll make sure she has everythin’ together.”

You gave him a quick peck on the lips before slinging your bag over your shoulder. A large hand closed over your bicep, and Joel yanked you back into his broad frame.

“No y’don’t. Give me a real kiss,” he chuckled.

He pressed a hand into your lower back, holding you firm to his chest as he bent down to kiss you. You deepened the kiss, your tongue overlapping his with a soft whimper off your lips. Joel swallowed every noise and pressed you against his lips for as long as he could.

“Grossssss,” Sarah groaned, startling you both.

You jumped back from Joel’s embrace, staring at Sarah with an embarrassed smile.

“Can you guys not do that? At least wait for the wedding.”

Joel barked a laugh, kissing your cheek with wet lips before pushing you out of the kitchen.

“I can kiss my future wife all I want, sweetheart,” he protested.

Future wife.

You loved it when he said that. You loved it even more when he was pinning you to the bed and whispering it in your ear as he fucked you. Lazy strokes and sweet words… The thought alone had you clenching your thighs beneath your skirt.

Joel didn’t waste a moment proposing after you moved in. He and Tommy had snuck away one Saturday to a jewelry store to find the perfect ring, and he proposed that night. The tiny diamond sat snug on your finger, the gold band reflecting the sunlight every time you admired it—which you did a lot.

You and Joel were still working through the mess created after your accident, but there was no question that you’d marry him. At least you knew he wouldn’t run from the wedding; the thought of it happening kept you up some nights.

Both you and Sarah arrived at the school with only ten minutes to spare. She’d be in your final class for the day, so you parted ways and made your way to your new classroom. Joel had helped you set up your room over the last week, hanging the posters you couldn’t reach and remaining adamant about keeping you from any possible chance of falling. God forbid you hit your head again; it wasn’t something you liked to think of often.

Walking into the classroom, you quickly set up your lesson plans and placed worksheets on each desk. The first week of school would be the easiest for you and the students. A slight tap on the door jolted you from rushing around, and you looked up to see Maria sheepishly standing in the doorway.

“Welcome back,” she said.

Neither of you had spoken since the end of the year, and you still weren’t sure what to say. Joel had explained to you that Maria wasn’t entirely at fault for anything; she only meant to care for you and keep you company throughout the years between. At the start of last year, he mentioned that he considered going after you, which was why Maria was always so pushy about talking to Joel. And she had, in fact, been the mastermind behind ‘Happy Hour’ when Joel showed up.

You couldn’t stay mad forever, even if sometimes you desperately wanted to. Anger was all you had known for months, and you worked hard to replace it and battle through it as the summer went on. But right now, you could put that aside and at least be cordial with Maria.

“Thank you, Maria.” You gave her a tentative smile.

“Can I come in? I wasn’t sure if I’d catch you before the day started, and I was hoping we could chat.”

You nodded, motioning to one of the desks. Maria entered the room and leaned against the edge of the desk, waiting for you to settle into your chair. You tried ignoring the emails that continued to chime on your computer, attempting to give her your full attention, which she deserved.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I had no intention of lying to you, but I only wanted to see you happy. After the accident, it was so hard for me to lose you in the way I did. Giving you a place to live after your breakup with Bennett and seeing you meet Joel… Then nothing. I cared for you like a daughter and wanted to continue being there for you.”

“I know you did,” you sighed. “It’s been hard having to adjust after regaining my memory, and it’s taking a lot out of me to try to work through it all. I hope you know I appreciate all the care you’ve shown me. Before the accident and after. I just needed time to process it all.”

“If you ever need anything, sweetie, you know I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

You reached your arms to hug her, and Maria took the opportunity without question. Her warm embrace was enough to bring you to tears; you did miss her—a lot. Pulling away, you lifted your hand a little to show off the sparkle on your ring finger.

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed, grabbing your hand.

You laughed at her excitement and allowed her to admire the ring on your finger.

“The wedding is next month,” you told her. “Joel and I would love for you to come if you would like.”

“Are you kidding? Of course, I want to come!”

She pulled you in for another tight hug, muttering a litany of ‘thank you’s.’ Eventually, the school bell rang, she ran out of the room, and you settled back at your desk for the beginning of the day.

Not even two minutes after the final bell rang, Sarah was barreling into your classroom with a big smile. You had just seen her in the third hour during her own class, but her excitement never failed to make your heart swell with happiness.

“Ready to go home, kiddo?” You chuckled.

“So ready! I think Dad is cooking us dinner, and I’m starving.”

You ruffled her curls softly before tucking her under your arm and leaving the classroom. The person you were last year—before remembering everything—would have never allowed this to happen. Dating your student’s father was out of line and, quite frankly, not your forte, but this was an exception. A very necessary exception.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, you heard your phone ringing in your purse. Sarah was quick to retrieve it, staring confused at the caller ID.

“Who is it?” You asked, glancing away from the road.

“Aunt Beth.”

Shit.

Things hadn’t been great between you two since the trip back to Boston over the summer, but it was better. If you sat in silence long enough, the bitterness and anger returned in full force. Joel was your voice of reason, calming you down from the resurgence of emotions and always quickly reminding you of Beth's work to fix the relationship. You only hoped they weren’t empty promises and she would prove herself to be who she was before the accident.

“Here, let me see it,” you said, extending your hand.

Pressing answer, you held the phone to your ear and hoped Sarah didn’t see the trembling in your fingertips.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sis,” Beth said. It was easy to hear the frustration in her greeting.

“Everything okay?” You asked.

You came to a slow roll at the red light in front of you, relaxing your white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Sarah rubbed an assuring hand over your arm, and you turned to give her a sad smile. She was like her father, so receptive and aware of your emotions.

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know, I just… Do you want me there? Are you sure?”

“At my wedding?” You questioned. “I already told you I wanted you there. I extended the invite to the entire family, including you.”

“I know, but being your bridesmaid feels wrong.”

A car horn blared behind you, and your eyes snapped up to see the green light staring down at you. You inhaled sharply and pressed the gas.

“Joel and I already talked about it, and we both agree not having you there would be something I might regret one day. I want you and Stell both up there with me.”

“You’re sure?” She asked, her voice cracking.

“Yes, Beth. I’m sure. Now, are you flying out on the day of the reception or the day before? I just need to make sure your hotel room is booked and set up before you get here.”

“I’ll fly in the day before with Stell. I think Mom and Dad are coming the day after.”

“Okay, good. I’ll make sure everything is taken care of. Just please promise me you’ll be there.”

“I promise, sis,” she sighed.

You rounded the corner into the neighborhood and pulled up to the house. Joel’s truck was already parked in the driveway, his truck bed overflowing with work tools and wooden planks. You nodded at Sarah to head in while you finished the phone call—you needed a moment alone before going inside.

“I just got home, Beth, so I’ve got to run. I’ll send you the information for the hotel and everything, okay?”

“Wait, before you go,” Beth hesitated.

“Yeah?”

“I’m still really sorry,” she admitted. “About everything.”

You scrubbed a hand down your face, holding back a wave of tears that threatened to break your composure. Beth wasn’t one to show her emotions or speak them this freely. Her vulnerability was something you were still adjusting to, among everything else.

“I know you are, sis,” you exhaled.

“I’ll, um, I’ll let you go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

You didn’t get the chance to say goodbye before the phone line went dead. Resting your head against the steering wheel, you let the tears run down your face. It was hard to control your emotions these days, and today was no different. Between seeing Maria and talking to Beth, you were exhausted. The wedding planning hadn’t been stressful until now, but knowing Beth was having second thoughts about even coming? The stress was starting to creep in.

A light tap on the window jolted you from your tearful silence. You turned your head to see Joel standing outside the door, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Seeing him was the final nail in the coffin, and you lost it completely. He was quick to yank the door open and wrap his arms around your limp body.

“Sarah told me Beth called,” he confessed. “I’m sorry, baby. I know this isn’t easy.”

You clung to his shirt, nestling your head into his neck. The work day still lingered on his skin, the smell of fresh wood and sweat flooding your senses. He smelled like home.

“Am I making the wrong decision?” You choked out.

Joel’s grip tightened around you, his sturdy frame grounding your emotions to cascade into. You fell victim to your cries, your tears dampening the cotton tee he wore.

“You’re makin’ the mature decision, baby,” he stated. “It took a lot for you even to see them this summer, but the wedding will fly by, and this can all be put behind us.”

“I just don’t want to be let down again,” you cried.

“No one's gonna let you down. I’ll make sure of it, ‘kay?”

You peeled yourself away from him, wiping away the tears that trailed down your cheeks. Joel’s brown eyes softened as he took in your fragile state, his lips turning down. Cradling your head in his hands, Joel brought your forehead to his lips for a comforting kiss.

“Hey, I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” you whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Y’know how I feel ‘bout you sayin’ that, baby,” Joel grinned.

The slight shift in the color of his eyes was warning enough to make your emotions skyrocket in a different way. You gave him a shy smile before pecking him on the lips and jumping out of the car. Joel quickly wound an arm around your front and hauled you back to him.

“You’re lucky we got dinner on the table,” he whispered in your ear. “Punishment’s gonna have to wait ‘til later.”

“Punishment?” You echoed.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, dragging his mouth over the shell of your ear.

You shivered at the touch, your body molding against his. Leave it to Joel to always turn your mood around; it’s what you loved about him. The worst days could be changed in minutes, and you weren’t afraid to be vulnerable with him. You also weren’t afraid to rile him up, too.

Shifting your body slightly, you brushed your ass against the crotch of his jeans, rewarding yourself with the hardening bulge of his cock. Joel groaned at the brief touch, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

“Oops, I’m sorry,” you giggled.

You repeated the motion, Joel’s body tensing behind you.

“Oh gosh,” you feigned distressed. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re gonna regret that, baby,” Joel growled.

With a sharp smack on your ass, Joel urged you toward the front door—not before readjusting himself several times before entering the kitchen.

Sarah had long gone to bed by the time you and Joel retired to your room. You took time showering and readying for bed while Joel sprawled against the sheets. Peeking around the corner, you caught a glimpse of his body, nearly naked, except for a pair of black boxers. It still didn’t feel real that you had found your way back to him, and it especially didn’t feel real that you’d be marrying him in less than a month.

“I know you’re starin’ at me over there,” Joel chuckled.

You emerged from behind the door, a grin on your face. Joel propped himself against the headboard, his hands locked behind his head and his biceps flexing slightly.

“Obviously,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m allowed to admire my handsome future husband.”

“Get your ass up here, baby.”

You happily obliged and jumped onto the bed, straddling his waist as you bent down to kiss him. Joel’s nose brushed against yours as he deepened the kiss, his hand carding through your hair to anchor you closer.

“If I’m not mistaken,” he muttered between kisses. “Y’said somethin’ earlier that you shouldn’t have.”

You trailed your lips down his neck, humming softly with each press of your lips.

“I did?” You teased.

“Three times,” Joel groaned.

His fingers laced tightly between the tendrils of your hair, pulling your head up until there was nowhere to look but into his dark eyes. The swell of his pupils had replaced the soft amber colors of his irises, a mischievous look flashing across his face.

“This is what’s gonna happen, baby. You’re gonna slide that beautiful body up here and ride my tongue ‘til you cum three times.”

“Three?” You repeated, your eyes growing wide.

Joel huffed a laugh and hooked his arms under your thighs. You fell forward, your hands bracing onto the headboard. Joel lucked out with you already being bare under your t-shirt; it was easy work for him, especially when you were already drenched with arousal. A small swipe of his nose over your throbbing clit was enough to elicit a soft moan from your mouth.

“Bite your lip and stay quiet for me, baby,” Joel mumbled. “Can’t wake up Sarah with all your noise.”

“Okay,” you exhaled.

Joel flattened his tongue against your entrance and licked a long, slow stripe through your wet folds. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he had instructed, you bit back a desperate whine that threatened to escape. You rolled your hips slightly, the pointed tip of his tongue dragging over your aching bud softly. The fire crept through your veins, catapulting you closer to the edge as Joel’s jaw worked relentlessly at your leaking entrance.

“Joel,” you whispered, a faint whimper leaving your lips.

“Shh,” he hummed.

The low vibration of his hush radiated through your pulsating clit, forcing you to jerk away from his mouth. His calloused fingers dug further into the skin of your thighs, anchoring you down onto his face. His tongue worked faster at your clit, stroking it with tantalizing flicks of his tongue. Flames burst through your stomach with each move of his mouth, your thighs quaking in his grip. So close… you were so close. Joel felt it, too, and latched his mouth around the sensitive bud.

“Joel!” You cried, the orgasm barreling through your body.

He didn’t let up, his tongue dipping into your entrance and lapping at the juices leaking from you. Your hand shot to the curls at the crown of his head, tugging him off of your sex, your body still twitching from the aftershocks of your climax.

“That was only one, baby,” Joel muttered into the flesh of your inner thigh.

He pressed wet kisses against your skin, working his way back to your center with small kitten licks over every inch of you. Your thighs clenched around his face, framing him perfectly between your legs. You glanced at him only to find his dark eyes staring at you. The air knocked out of your lungs, seeing him under you in such blissed-out beauty. Joel shifted his face up, revealing his arousal-coated mustache and wet plush lips.

“Y’gonna give me two more?” He asked, his mouth curving into a grin.

You nodded vigorously, guiding him back to your swollen bud. Joel rested his tongue over your center, nudging you silently with a slight tilt of his head. Dragging your hips forward, you lowered yourself onto his open mouth. Back and forth, you moved against his tongue, tremors wracking through your limbs with each pass.

“Joel! I’m gonna—.” You choked on your words.

With one hand grasped on the headboard and the other tangled in his sweat-soaked curls, you bore down and let your second orgasm surge through your body. Biting your lip did little to help the cry of pleasure that escaped your mouth. You lifted yourself from his face, attempting to unlatch yourself from his tight grip.

“Nuh uh, baby,” Joel protested, his voice husky. “One more.”

“I can’t,” you whined.

You stumbled over his body, collapsing into the bed beside him. Joel rolled over you, his eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. The lower half of his face was coated in your arousal, his chin and beard glistening in the dim lights of the bedroom. You wound your arms around his neck, pulling him to your lips. The sweet smell of your arousal hit your nose as his mouth collided with yours. Joel groaned against your lips, coaxing your mouth open wider. You tilted your head to give him better access, your tongues dancing in unison in a heated kiss.

You felt Joel’s hand slide between your bodies, his body shifting slightly as he pushed down the boxers from his waist. The weight of his heavy cock rested on your thigh, and you hooked your leg higher to give him access to your dripping sex.

“Got one more in you, baby?” Joel asked, his mouth roaming down your neck.

“I think so,” you said, your voice shaky.

Joel suctioned his lips to the hollow of your neck, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. You gasped at the intrusion, your body adjusting to the girth of his cock as he split you open. Joel carded a hand through your hair and glued his eyes to yours as he thrusted into you slowly. Your bodies moved in a simple rhythm; when he drove into you, you careened back. Soft cries and heavy grunts, each of you flowing in perfect harmony.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” Joel whispered.

“Feels so good, Joel,” you panted.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the swell of release at your fingertips as Joel speared into you deeper with each cadence of his hips. You were overstimulated and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but you wanted to come undone with him. You wanted to fall over the edge together; you wanted this moment to be something you shared. Lifting your mouth to his ear, you whined softly, garnering a low growl from his chest.

“I love you.”

Three simple words. It was enough to send Joel over the edge, his body tensing above you as he drove into you one last time. Your sex clenched around his cock, milking him through his release. His cock dragged against the aching walls of your sex as he pulled out, his body resting heavily on top of yours. With his head pressed to your heaving chest, you ran your fingers through the dark curls resting at the base of his neck.

“You tired?” You laughed softly, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” Joel argued.

“Get some sleep, handsome. I love you.”

“I love you so much, baby.”

He nuzzled further into your embrace, a soft yawn exhaling from his mouth. You smiled to yourself, reveling in the fact that this was your life. Here, at this moment, everything you had endured was worth it. It was worth it knowing someone inexplicably loved you. Someone who wasn’t going to leave, no matter how hard things may be. Joel fought tooth and nail to have you back, and you learned to forgive his faults. His patience and unwavering love were enough to battle any doubts that lingered in your mind.

He was yours, just as much as you were his.

Outside your bridal suite, storm clouds swirled in the sky. You had watched the news channel praying for a sunny wedding day all week, but the Texas weather laughed at your pleas. The thunderstorm looming in the distance was only the tip of the iceberg in your ever-growing levels of anxiety.

“Sis, it’s gonna be okay,” Beth urged.

Beth and Stella were the only ones in the room with you, and they both sat at the edge of the bed, watching you helplessly pace the floor. You itched to undo the tight bun your hair had been wrangled into, the pain of each bobby pin shooting another jolt of pain into the onset headache forming in your head.

“What if he doesn’t show? What if Joel doesn’t want this? What if—?”

“Oh my God, stop!”

It wasn’t Beth that cut off your rambling, but Stella. She wasn’t one to raise her voice often, but it was enough to halt your frantic thoughts. You threw yourself onto the chair in the corner of the room, letting out an exasperated sigh. Stella rose from the bed, carefully sidestepping the hem of her silk bridesmaid dress as she waltzed to where you sat. She lowered herself to her knees and stared up at you with pleading eyes.

“Joel loves you, sis,” she stressed. “He’s not going to leave you. All of these pre-ceremony jitters will go away the second you walk down that aisle.”

“But—.”

She held up her hand in protest, shaking her head sternly.

“No more of that. You are going to put on your dress and get ready.”

You glanced at your wedding dress hanging on the back of the door. The white fabric was a haunting reminder of the rain-soaked dress you had worn only years ago, dirtied by the mud and broken hopes left in Bennett’s wake. You chewed at your lip to stifle back a cry, your brain ready to disintegrate with all the pressure building inside your head.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, the admission frightening you.

Beth groaned, leaving the bed to join Stella on the ground. You had spoken little since she came into town, sharing only a few shallow words in passing when necessary. But the seriousness in her eye ignited a new wave of fear; her words could slice you clean through if you let it. Saying your name softly, Beth clasped a hand around yours and inhaled a sharp breath.

“You can do this, and you will. I know you’re scared, but Joel is waiting for you. He’s been waiting for you for years, and he’s not going anywhere. Trust me when I tell you no one in this world loves you more than he does, okay?”

A tear slipped down your cheek at Beth’s words. The way she spoke of Joel was night and day from how she spoke of Bennett. Her words regarding Bennett had been laced with venom strong enough to poison even your happiest memories—whatever those had been. They were fighting words, and each punch was perfectly placed. With Joel, she only spoke with sincerity. Both she and Stella had been there to see Joel at his worst after the accident, watching the life he had made with you crumble away within the hospital. They had been there to experience his grief firsthand, and that was something you could never argue. Joel held a special place in both of their hearts, a bond you couldn’t remember but couldn’t deny.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, burying your head in your hands. You threw caution to the wind when it came to ruining your makeup. It was a lost cause at this point.

“Hey, come here,” Beth whispered.

She hauled you into her arms, wrapping herself around you. Stella followed her lead, both huddling around you as you cried quietly. Time had stolen so much from you, time you couldn’t get back with your sisters. Putting everything aside, you sat in the moment with them and let their strength hold you up.

“Okay, okay,” you sighed, peeling yourself away. “Can you both help me get into my dress?”

Stella squealed excitedly, hauling herself up and hurtling toward the door where it hung. Beth gave you one final squeeze and a quiet “I love you” before joining Stella.

You discarded your robe on the bed and stood awkwardly before them in your bridal lingerie. Both of them whistled at you provocatively, their eyes growing wide. You blushed at their giddiness, motioning for them to bring the dress to you. The three of you worked silently as you slipped into the tulle fabric. Beth worked at zipping up the back while Stella secured the gossamer sleeves over your shoulders. The fabric was cool against your skin, a welcome reprieve from the warm anxiety that simmered below the surface. You were ready after a few final touches on your makeup and the clasping of your heels.

“Breathe, peanut,” your dad whispered in your ear.

The bouquet in your hand was shaking from the trembling in your fingers. You stared through the glass door into the open courtyard where everyone sat, the sky darkening by the minute. In the distance, you could spot Joel's outline as he stood under the floral arch above the altar. He was right there…waiting.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the wedding planner said, grasping the door handle before you.

You turned your head to look at your dad, his features soft and emotional. If he cried, you’d soon follow, and you couldn’t ruin your makeup again. You squeezed his arm and nodded to the wedding planner.

“I’m ready,” you whispered.

With a gentle push of the door, you stepped over the threshold and into the humid air of the early evening. The soft crescendo of the Wedding March began to drift through the open space, and your friends and family all turned to stand. Your eyes shifted side to side, looking down each row at the warm smiles in your direction. Maybe if you didn’t look down the aisle, the fear of Joel running away wouldn’t come true. Look anywhere else. Your steps faltered, and you felt a wave of anxiety assault your nerves.

“He’s waiting for you,” your dad mumbled. “Look up.”

You lifted your head and found Joel watching you with the brightest smile. His hair was tamed and slicked down with gel, and his beard was trimmed short—but still patchy in small areas along his jaw. His broad frame stretched out the black suit that was tailored perfectly to his body, and something about the refined look on him made your heart leap. If you weren’t already breathless, seeing his eyes stole any air left in your lungs. Joel’s brown eyes sparkled with fresh tears under the gray skies. Not even the darkest storm clouds could darken the amber flecks glimmering in his irises.

As you neared the altar, you also realized his hands were trembling. His fingers fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt, and his body shifted from side to side as he waited for you. The music drifted to a close as you finally approached the altar, just inches from Joel. He didn’t run. He was standing right there.

You turned to your dad, giving him a tearful hug and a quiet thank you. Joel stepped forward to give your dad a firm handshake, a warm smile gracing his face. As they said their final words to one another, you handed off your bouquet to Beth, who stood behind you, along with Stella and Sarah. Sarah’s cheeks were damp with tears as she grinned at you brightly, her skin radiant in her green dress. You blew her a kiss and turned back to Joel.

“Y’look so fuckin’ beautiful,” he exhaled, wiping a tear from his face.

“And you look extra handsome,” you grinned.

Joel chuckled, clasping his hands around yours. Your fingers squeezed around his knuckles, and your thumb rubbed soothing circles over the rough skin of his hand. The officiant beside you cleared his throat, and you and Joel turned your attention to him.

“Family and friends,” he began. “Thank you all for joining us today for this wonderful union of love.”

The officiant's words faded into the background as you stared up at Joel, capturing this moment in your memory. Years of loss, pain, and grief all led you to this moment—right here. With Joel’s hands wrapped around yours and his loving smile shining down on you, it was all worth it.

“I understand that you both have written your own vows,” the officiant said, interrupting the flood of emotions inside you.

Beth tapped you on your shoulder, handing you the small paper you had scribbled your vows onto that morning.

“Okay,” you sighed. You smoothed out the paper in your hand, your eyes hardly focusing on the words before you.

You opened your mouth to speak but paused as the first drop of rain splattered across the ink. A laugh bubbled out of you as you tilted your head up toward the sky. Rain misted your face, the slow sprinkle of rain dampening the ground around you.

“Would y’look at that,” Joel laughed. “It’s rainin’ on us, baby. I think that means it’s good luck, right?”

You beamed at him, watching the raindrops catch onto his thick eyelashes. Crumpling the paper in your hand, you let it fall to the ground and composed yourself. Joel lifted his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Joel Miller,” you started. “I can say, without a doubt, I was always meant to be with you. From the moment I ran into you, literally—.” You laughed at yourself. “I knew it would always be you. Even when time and differences separated us, a part of me knew I was missing something. You and Sarah were the missing pieces that made me whole. And I’m so thankful that the universe conspired to bring us back together and lead me home. I vow to you, Joel, that every day will be filled with memories we remember.

I vow always to make you smile. I vow to always annoy you with my late-night conversations about books and poetry nonsense you most definitely have no interest in. I promise to stand beside you on the soccer fields, cheering on our girl through every win and loss. I vow to you, Joel Miller, to never leave and to always work through the hardest obstacles. Together.”

“I love you so much,” Joel whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You lifted a finger to wipe them away, your hand resting against his cheek. Joel sniffled back more cries, shaking out the rain clinging to his hair.

“Alright, guess I gotta try and beat that now,” Joel joked.

He crumpled his vows, the paper floating onto the wet ground where they melted into the rainfall. Joel barely managed to choke out your name before succumbing to tears all over again.

“Man, this is hard,” he huffed. “I ain’t sure how y’did all that without losin’ it, baby.”

“You’ll be just fine, Joel. I’m right here,” you assured.

He spoke your name again, this time only faltering at the end. You gave him an encouraging smile, your hand still caressing his face.

“I can’t tell you enough how lucky I am that you’re in my life,” Joel began. “I ain’t ever felt a love like this, and I ain’t ever wanna lose it. I’m not a many of many words, at least not where it counts, but havin’ you by my side makes every single day brighter. There ain’t no better happiness than seein’ your smile every day or seein’ you be the mother to Sarah that she always deserved.

Y’make me the proudest man alive, and I vow always to love you and care for you in every single way. I promise to read all the books y’read. I vow to remind you which cereal we buy at the grocery. I vow to stay truthful and always love you no matter how hard things may get. It’s you and me, baby. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. You got me ‘til I stop breathin’.”

You were the one crying the hardest now—a vow of all vows, spoken upon the altar that had always haunted you. One thing remained true in the weariness and uncertainty of the last several years: Joel was your steadfast. He was the constant that worked against the odds and continued to fight for a love you had since forgotten. Through the heartbreak, grief, and endless nights alone, you now had the one man the universe had created just for you.

I love you, you mouthed. You couldn’t trust yourself not to entirely wither into a heap of sobs as his vows sunk further into your heart.

“Now, if we may have the rings,” the officiant urged.

Tommy handed the ring to Joel while Sarah stepped forward to give you the wedding band you both had picked for her dad.

“Thank you, kiddo,” you whispered, bending down to hug her.

You and Joel repeated each word the officiant said, slipping the wedding bands onto each other's ring fingers. The rain was coming down harder now, pelting your face in wet splashes and rolling down your bare neck. Joel’s suit was soaked through, yet he didn’t care. Neither of you could stop smiling.

“With the power invested in me and the state of Texas, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Miller! You may now kiss your bride.”

“About damn time,” Joel snorted.

His hands swept under your shoulder blades, dipping you low as he bent to kiss you. The moment his wet lips touched yours, everything became a reality. Joel was your husband. You molded your body into his embrace, your arms winding around his neck. He kissed you recklessly as if no one else around you existed. And truthfully, the world could have collapsed around you, and you would never have known it. You wanted to remain in his arms for eternity.

This was your home. He was your everything.

The reception had drawn into the late hours of the night, and the buzz of a few drinks had your body relaxed and at ease. Whatever stress you had before the ceremony it had long since vanished, swept away with the rain as it continued to pour from the sky. The train of your dress was stained brown from the mud, yet you didn’t care. It was a memory of the day, and you wanted to keep it with you forever.

“One last dance?” Joel asked, extending a hand to you.

You rose from your seat, placing your hand in his. Somewhere during the night, Joel had discarded his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Seeing him this dressed up was far more dangerous than you expected; you craved to undo every button traveling down his torso and strip his tailored pants right from his muscular legs. But those tempting thoughts would have to wait till later.

Half the attendees had left for the night, leaving only your family members and a few friends still scattered around the ballroom. As Joel swayed your bodies to the music, you caught wind of an argument drifting through the music. Turning your head over your shoulder, you watched Beth and Tommy go toe to toe in a standoff.

“Do you think we should go calm them down?” You asked.

Joel glanced towards his brother and shrugged.

“M’sure they’ll sort their shit out, baby. Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me from enjoyin’ this night with you.”

“You’ve seen Beth when she’s angry,” you reminded him.

“And y’know how grumpy Tommy can get,” Joel countered. “They can handle themselves.”

You both moved to the music in silence; your eyes settled on one another as you spun in slow circles. Joel hooked a hand under your knee and dipped you, only to pull you up just as quickly to crush his lips to yours.

“When can I take y’home?” He muttered between kisses. “I’ve been dyin’ to take that dress off of you all night.”

“As soon as this song ends, I’m all yours,” you smiled.

Joel’s brown eyes darkened under the twinkling lights, and dimples appeared on his cheeks as he grinned at you.

“Baby, you’ve been mine from the start.”

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel x teacher!f!reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #tlou #joel miller tlou #tlou fic

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 11 months ago

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Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eight of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo and this should take you to the song. It's the song I named the series for, because I believe it encompasses how both the reader feels, but also how Soldier Boy will feel in a few chapters. I also believe that the song House of Memories by Panic at the Disco, fits the more modern parts of the series.

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Philadelphia 1938

The lights twinkled along the ceiling of the dance hall as the gentle swell of jazz floated through the air. Couples swayed on the dance floor clinging to one another as the soft tones of the music soothed the dull throb of the whispers of rising tension overseas. It was a Saturday night, and you and a few of your friends from the Dawson School for Girls had slipped away to spend the evening twirling in the arms of whomever caught your fancy.

Well, at least that's what your friends wanted to do. There was only one particular man who'd caught your fancy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The Dawson School for Girls was the answer to your mother's prayers, a boarding school in Boston, far away from Ben's "corruptive influence" as she put it. Ben was currently at boarding school number ten in Upstate New York. The last time you’d seen him was when you were on break and Ben had just left boarding school number nine for fighting with other students, but he wouldn't say what for. You’d sent him a few letters to tell him how bored you were including a few sketches and watercolor paintings, with minimal response, but it was like him not to write back.

You hadn't mentioned that Howard Stine had been coming on the weekends to take you out. Your mother was pleased with him, he checked all the boxes: wealthy, not Ben, educated, not Ben, from a nice family, not Ben, and of course most importantly, not Ben.

She was practically making wedding invitations and choosing the names of your children after only three months. However, it was nice to see her happy for a change, kept her from sniping at your figure now that someone was interested. Well, not sniping that much.

Howard was… nice, but he was one of the most boring people you'd ever met and he never understood why you always carried a sketchbook with you. When he'd taken you to Franklin Park one weekend, you stopped along the pond to sketch some of the ducks that were waddling on the bank, but Howard told you he didn’t have time to wait for you to draw them. Instead of telling him that he could just leave, you shut the sketchpad and continued to walk with him and quickly learned that it was better to leave your sketchpad at the dorm whenever he was in town. You also found yourself talking less and less, allowing him to fill the silence with his talk of the stock market crash and how the United States economy recovered due to the efforts of President FDR.

You hated that. You didn't recognize yourself when you were with him. You didn't feel like you.

And every time he was here all you could do was compare him to Ben. Ben would never tell you to stop drawing, yes he would tease you about it, but he always sat next to you while you were sketching, watching you work. You never understood that. Ben was so impatient with everyone else, but he was willing to sit with you for any inordinate amount of time if you were drawing while making you laugh the whole time.

I miss him so much.

"Can I get you a drink?" Howard puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You try not to flinch at his touch. He had already been in town, walking you home from a dinner that was dominated by awkward silence and the clicking of utensils on plates when you'd run into your friends just as he was walking you back to the dorm. They had rounded the corner giggling and begging you to come with them. Despite your insistences for him to stay in and relax for the night at his hotel, he refused.

It meant that now you were stuck with him while all your friends got to twirl around with men that made them warm and giddy. Howard made you feel like you'd swallowed a lemon.

"I'm fine, but thank you." You force a smile.

Howard shrugs, before he walks away towards the crowded bar on the other side of the room and blessedly far away from you.

Your thoughts drifted to Ben. You missed your friend more than words could comprehend. Not just because you were far from your family in another city, but because it felt like you were missing apart of yourself when he wasn't there. You briefly wonder if he felt the same way when he wasn't with you.

Probably not.

You turn away from Howard's retreating figure, to watch the couples on the dance floor. You sway to the music, holding your arms around yourself and feeling your dark green dress swish around your ankles, one that you'd picked out yourself, not a monstrosity of pink tulle, but something that you believed accentuated the natural curves of your body that your mother used other dresses to hide. Your mouth turns down into a frown remembering how Howard had reacted to seeing you in it, when he tried to give you his jacket to cover up, but you refused.

You had wanted him to be stunned by how you looked in it, or at least, wanted someone to be. The same someone that was miles away and probably tickling the skirt of someone who caught his fancy.

"One of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my life is at the bar." Your friend Pearl stated looking behind you with wide eyes.

I've got you beat. You think to yourself to a sigh, wishing, again, that you were here with Ben instead of Howard.

"Very funny." You roll your eyes, thinking that she’s making fun of where Howard is sitting probably flagging down the bartender with both hands to catch his attention.

"I'm not talking about Howard. This guy is seriously a looker. And he's staring at you." Pearl says again.

"Sure." You continue to watch an elderly couple sway back and forth to the smooth jazz that ebbs from the band on stage.

Must be nice to be with someone for that long.

You watch how effortlessly the couple moves as one, how the man stares down at the woman with more love than you can comprehend. It makes your heart sink in your chest.

The way things were panning out, you were going to end up with Howard and you couldn't imagine looking at anyone like that other than Ben.

"You're about to see, because he's coming this way." Pearl takes a step back from you as if anticipating the stranger interrupting your conversation.

"He's not-" You begin to say, but you feel someone place their hand on the small of your back, turning you towards them.

"Fancy meeting you here." Ben smiles down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Ben!" Your heart soars when you recognize your friend and you can't help but hug him so tight he laughs, the movement of his chuckle makes you feel alive for the first time in weeks. The sharp smell of whiskey and the familiar spicy scent of his cologne greets you.

"Guess you missed me." The rumble of his voice vibrates where your cheek rests against his chest.

"I did." You pull away from him reluctantly. "What are you doing here?" You can't help but smile at him, probably wider than what was attractive.

"Thought I'd stop by and visit on my way back to Philadelphia. Saw you walk into this place. " Ben shrugs. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Looking for trouble." You smirk.

"You found him sweetheart." Ben leans down towards you making your throat get unusually tight.

"Hi." Pearl says interrupting the conversation.

Ben turns his smug smile on her. "Hi."

"I'm Pearl." She looks from you to Ben as if trying to decide that it's okay for her to introduce yourself.

"Benjamin." You watch him slip into the cool and smooth Ben, the one that charmed whomever caught his eye.

You can't help but feel a prick of jealousy against your skin. It was familiar, but every time it happened, it didn't make any of this easier. You knew that you shouldn't be jealous, you didn't have a claim on him, you were friends, just friends, only friends, best friends…

And now you were with Howard.

You let out a soft sigh watching the way that Pearl looks up at Ben and the way he leans towards her with the confident smirk you love so much on his face.

"Would you like to dance Benjamin?" She asks.

"I would." Ben's smirk turns into a smile.

Pearl steps forward to reach for his hand, expecting him to take it, but he doesnt.

"Come on sweetheart." Ben reaches out and takes your hand, twirling you ahead of him onto the dance floor.

"Ben-" You giggle, head spinning with the movement, but when he twirls you back into his chest, you feel your breath catch. This wasn't the first time you'd been pressed up against him and it wasn't the first time you recognized how perfectly you fit together. Your soft curves molding against the hardness of his muscles as you sway back and forth to the music. When you were pressed up against him, you didn't feel like you were too big, you felt perfect, because of the way you fit against him.

"You know I am here with someone-" You say, before you get too wrapped up in how good it feels to be with him.

"Yes. Howard Stine. Though I do believe you said he stepped on your toes." Ben smiles at you, eyes twinkling in the light.

"That was four years ago, and he's… sweet?"

"Hmph." Ben rolls his eyes. "You can't even say it with a straight face sweetheart."

"I have never said anything bad about your companions."

"Missy-"

"Besides her." You frown.

He laughs at your reaction, the hand clutched in your right seems to warm with his smile. "You've never said anything about them period."

Because I hate thinking about how many of them there have been. Because I hate that you don't see me as someone who could be with you.

"I try not to dwell on your numerous escapades."

"You sound a little jealous doll." He smirks at you.

"What was that you were saying about Howard again?" You tease, holding on to his shoulders as you sway back and forth to the music.

"Can't be jealous of someone I've seen get chased by a duck." Ben's eyes trace your body for a moment. Your cheeks blush under his gaze. "You look nice. Not one of your mom's I'm guessing?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You don't look like a cupcake." He spins you away one more time before bringing you back into his chest.

"No. I think she'd probably have an aneurysm if she saw me wearing this. Howard also thought it was a bit much-"

Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "What?"

You shrug, leveling your eyes on his chest to distract yourself from his hand placement. "He tried to get me to wear his coat."

"He what?"

You shake your head to dissipate the self-doubt and body-shaming conversation that was about to unfold in your head.

"It's nothing." You raise your gaze back to his, but you're surprised to see the anger that burns behind his green eyes.

"It's not nothing. He had no right to-"

"Ben." You soothe, rubbing your thumb over his shoulder to comfort him.

The song shifts to something softer, forlorn, a song that reminded you of the heartache you felt with Ben, but also a melody that eases your soul somehow.

"I don't understand why you're with him." Ben sighs, but you can still feel the tension in his shoulders beneath your hand.

"My mother is happy-"

"But you're not." The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, almost earnest, as if he's trying to get you to understand something that he can't say.

"Ben." You breathe.

"Fine. I don't want you to think about him when we're dancing to our song anyway." The look in his eyes shifts back to the playful green they'd been before.

"Our song?" The words make your heart skip a beat and you can't help but smile at him.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd smiled this much. Probably the last time I saw him.

"Yes." Ben dips you back, before bringing you up against him, the playful look in his eyes becoming softer as you come back.

You know that your own gaze is filled with love and you remember watching the elderly couple. The way they looked at one another warming your heart as you gaze up at Ben. The three little words tiptoe against your tongue, the three little words that you'd been trying to say forever, but you can't. You don't want to lose him, don't want to live in a world without him, because you know that it won't be worth living.

So instead you lean forward and lay your head against his chest, in the space between his neck and shoulder as the song continues. You think that you feel Ben's arms tighten around you, pulling you further into his embrace, but you chock that up to wishful thinking.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You hear someone yell, and all of a sudden someone's hand is on your wrist jerking you away from Ben.

What?

Howard is standing there his chest pushed against Ben’s, trying to look intimidating, but Howard's inability to reach Ben's shoulders made it difficult for him.

You rub your fingers over your wrist, where Howard’s bright red handprint stands out against your skin.

Ben’s eyes shift to notice your ministrations, darkening with the force of his anger at the thought that Howard hurt you.

“I think I was dancing with my girl.” Ben’s eyes narrow, skating back to Howard.

Your heart skips a beat when he says that, but you shake away the thought, knowing that Ben is only saying that to make Howard angry.

“Your girl?!” Howard sputters, his face growing red. “She’s not your girl!”

“Howie, buddy-“ Ben’s confident smirk slips over his features but you still see the anger beneath the surface. “Calm down, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

“Just because you think you have some claim on her because you’ve been stringing her along with the harem that usually follows you, does not make her your girl!” Howard fumes. “She’s with me.” Howard grabs your wrist again and drags you towards him.

“Hey wait a minute-“ You begin to say.

Ben grabs the front of Howard's tailored suit, rumpling the pristine fabric. “Don’t you dare touch her like that.”

“I will touch her however I damn well please! She's mine-"

The grip on your wrist is so tight that you know it’ll leave bruises. “Howard wait-“ You try again to diffuse the tension, bringing your free hand to rest on his forearm to make him let go.

“Shut up.” He snaps, eyes flashing back to you.

Ben’s temper flares and the sharp crack of his fist against Howard’s face echoes through the room. Howard stumbles away, letting go of your wrist as he reels backward to the welcoming hardwood floor that catches him when he falls.

“Don’t you ever speak to her that way you arrogant son of a bitch!” Ben shouts taking a step forward. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched at his sides and his jaw is tight, as his anger burns through the air.

By now the band has stopped playing music and all the couples around you are watching with wide eyes.

I have to do something before he kills him.

You put yourself between them, your hands firmly planted on Ben’s muscular chest so your back is to where Howard stands fuming. “Ben. Don’t.”

But he’s not looking at you, his gaze is locked with Howard’s, eyes blazing, muscles tensing beneath the palms of your hands. You try to ignore how good his chest feels beneath your touch.

Damn it.

“Ben.” You say his name again.

His eyes snap back to yours. The soft green has hardened to an emerald with the force of his rage, so different than how he looked when the two of you were dancing. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Please.” You whisper. "Stop."

Ben looks from you to Howard, before he finally exhales. “Fine.” He mutters, and he turns and vanishes into the crowd of people without another word.

A minute passes and the music begins all over again, the band on the stage starting with a lively tune that makes the couples around you to move back on to the dance floor, but the tension of what just happened remains in the air.

Because what did just happen? Did Ben do that because he was protective of me? Or did he do that because he was jealous?

Your eyes trace where he vanished, longing for him to come back, but when he doesn't appear, you're left to deal with the aftermath.

After numerous apologies to Howard, he finally relented and took you back to your dorm, leaving your group of friends at the dance hall. You knew there would definitely be a conversation about what just happened between you all when they got back, but even you were confused. Ben was always protective of you, but what happened seemed over the top. You think about how Ben called you “my girl," the way he said it sending a thrill down your spine. He’d never done that before and you wondered if it was because he wanted to get a rise out of Howard or because he believed it.

Not like he’s tried to do anything about it. You think to yourself stroking one finger against your bruised wrist. The discoloration was more prominent now, black and blue marks beginning to sprout like flowers in spring. Howard’s eye didn’t look much better when he dropped you off. You were surprised that he’d been forgiving enough to continue to see you, not that you wanted to see him, but you didn't think you could handle a letter from your mother.

Then again maybe she would pull you out of this ridiculous school.

A small tap at your window causes you to raise your head to look out the glass. Ben is sitting there, but he doesn’t smile like he usually does. Your dorm room was on the first floor, which meant that Ben didn't need to shimmy up a tree to get into it like he did when you were home. Then again this was the first time he'd showed up here and you wondered how he knew where your room was. You also weren't thrilled at his appearance because you didn't know when Pearl would come back and you weren't sure what your roommate would do if she came back and found Ben in your room. She was a stickler for the rules and despite your friendship, rooming with her was one of your least favorite things about the Dawson School For Girls.

“If they find you here I’m going to be in so much trouble.” You say helping him through the small window, putting your hand on the back of his head so that he doesn't bang it against the glass. "You might like getting kicked out of boarding schools, but I don't."

“They won’t find out.” Ben rolls his eyes. He glances at Pearl’s empty bed on the other side of the room. “Roommate not back yet?”

“No she was still dancing when I left.”

Ben frowns. “Where’s the asshole?”

“Ben-“

“What?”

“He left. And I don't exactly invite him up to where I sleep."

“Good.” Ben flexes his fist.

“How did you know which room was mine?” You ask. Ben had never come to see you before at boarding school and the fact that he was here probably meant that boarding school number ten was out.

“I might have guessed wrong.” He smirks.

“Uh-huh.” You sigh, but all you can think about is how he acted earlier. Your feet shift back and forth “Why did you hit him?”

Ben’s eyes darken. “He shouldn’t have touched you like that or said that to you.”

You stand there for a minute observing his reaction.

“He kinda deserved it." You say slowly.

You knew it was true. When Ben showed up Howard shouldn’t have lost it like he did, he definitely shouldn’t have grabbed you like that or called you his-

You stutter on that thought. But maybe he is right. I am Howard’s. We’ve been going steady… The thought of being his makes something curl up in your chest and die. There was only one man that you wanted to belong to.

"Yeah.” Ben sighs.

"Why did you call me your 'girl'?" You ask.

"Um." Ben shrugs. "Felt right in the moment."

"What?"

"I mean you are. You're my friend-"

"But that doesn't mean friend Ben." You say it gently trying to catch his eye, but Ben won't meet your gaze.

"Fine. I just wanted to mess with him a little bit." Ben frowns. "But I didn't like that he called you his, or the fact that he hurt you."

“But Ben I am his.” You whisper even though you don’t want to. “We’re going steady-“

“That doesn’t make you his!” Ben snaps, eyes flashing. “Just because he feels the need to say it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“But Ben-“

“And I never want to hear you say it.” He continues loudly.

What is wrong with him? I've never seen him this angry about anything.

“Why?”

“Because that means he has some claim on you. You’re not his, you’re my friend.”

"You're being ridiculous. You're saying that he can't have some claim on me but you're possessively calling me your friend!" You shout back frustrated.

Why is he acting like this? Does he really hate Howard that much?

"I am not! I'm just saying that you're my friend and you're not his!"

“I can’t be both?” Your words hang in the air between the two of you and you mentally beg Ben to answer. He was acting like he wanted you to be his, like he believed that he had some claim on you and you couldn't remember another time that he'd acted this way. Sure he teased Howard, but this was more than that.

It was almost possessive and it kinda scared you how much you liked it.

Ben doesn’t answer your question. His shoulders are tense, hands clenched into fists at his sides, while something lurks behind his eyes that you can’t identify.

“Ben?” You say it like a question, ignoring the urge to press your hands against his chest like you did earlier at the dance to calm him down.

His gaze drops to your arm, where Howard grabbed you, tracing the bruises and clenching his jaw together. Ben’s right hand comes to delicately pick up your bruised wrist, running his thumb over the discolored flesh with a frown. “Does it hurt?” He rumbles changing the subject.

“No. Does that hurt?” You breathe noticing his bruised knuckles and gently probe your fingers along them.

You hated the though that he was hurt and for you, no less.

Why did he have to intervene? Why did he hit Howard?

“It was worth it.”

You both stand there for a minute, with Ben holding on to your wrist, touch surprisingly gentle.

“I just don’t like that he hurt you okay?” He mutters raising his eyes to yours. You weren't prepared for the soft look in his eyes. You expected him to still be angry over Howard, but he almost looked, worried.

“I'm okay Ben." You whisper back.

You want him to answer your question. You think again about telling him those three little words you wanted to say when you were swaying on the dance floor together but you can’t.

He nods once before he looks around the room, eyes falling on your sketchpad where it lays closed on your bed. "Got any new ones?"

You knew it was Ben's way of asking if he could stay, trying to tell you that he didn’t want to go back to Philadelphia that night, and you didn't want him to either.

"A few. If you're not too tired-"

"I’m never too tired for you."

You feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest. “Okay.”

The whole time you sit together on your bed, Ben doesn't drop your wrist, in fact he continues to brush his thumb against it while you look through your sketchbook. And in a few hours when Pearl finds you and Ben curled up in bed together, you’re not embarrassed, because deep down you’re starting to believe that Ben cared for you more than he was willing to admit.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #the boys series #the boys tv #soldier boy fic #the boys season 3 #the boys s3

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bookuce · 4 months ago

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Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 5.4K

PART NINE

PART TEN

Alina hadn't gone on a double date in years. Some of her favorite dates just so happened to be doubles. After Theo, it didn't happen much anymore. She had started seeing her friends less in gatherings and seeing them more alone. What Theo did ruined the healthy dynamic of the friend group and made Alina feel like she was forcing her friends to choose between him and her. She never wanted to be that friend but had to. She refused to reopen wounds that hadn't fully healed for a two-to-three-hour outing.

Yesterday's events didn't help either. Somehow, years of growth and healing went out the door once Theo chose to stir up drama. Now, her best friend won't talk to her, and their friend group's dynamic has shifted again because of him. She glances over at Josh, Trinity, and Jon, watching as they talk and laugh with each other. Alina's spent all of two years with these people. They've become her family away from home, her family period. What would happen to them if she and Josh broke up?

Alina didn't want to think about that, but because of Theo, she had no choice but to do so. She'd probably have to switch shows and relearn how to be alone again. She wasn't looking forward to that. She and Josh have been joined at the hip for a year now and even more now than ever. Losing him would hurt her more than anything--especially now that they were together. They were in too deep with each other now.

A bump to her arm would pull her attention from the outside. She and Josh would lock eyes with each other. Dark brown eyes searched hazel ones for a moment before Josh decided to speak up. "You good?" He asks lowly. He knew she wasn't, but would she tell him that right now? No, she'd save that for a conversation later.

"Yeah, I'm fine," She starts. "just thinking." She finishes, turning her attention towards the window again. Josh continues watching her before reaching over to grab her hand. She looked at him once more, watching as he clasped his large hands around her own and pressed multiple kisses to it.

Josh knew Alina would be hard to reach after everything that happened this weekend. Between him, her ex, and her best friend ignoring her, she was emotionally and physically exhausted. He hoped this outing with Jon and Trinity would take her mind off it all for a few hours--or at least the rest of the night. She deserved peace, laughter, and happiness, and he planned to give her all that tonight--and any other day she needed it.

"Lina, you excited to meet our parents tomorrow?" Jon asks, causing the couple to turn their attention to him. Josh's lip curled slightly at his brother, making Jon lean back slightly. "What? She ain't know?" He asks.

"No, Jon, but thank you for telling her," Josh says, annoyed.

"Were you not gonna tell me?" Alina asks. As soon as the question left her mouth, she regretted it. It was hypocritical of her to be upset at that, considering Lina let Josh meet her ex-fiancé and didn't give him a warning. Josh turns his attention back to her just as she closes her eyes. "I'm sorry." She sighs, shaking her head.

Jon and Trinity glanced between the couple before looking at each other. He furrows his brows at her, and she shakes her head, a silent conversation happening between the two. They didn't know the full extent of yesterday's events and planned to ask later, but with how their brother and his girl were acting, they should hold off on being nosy for a while. Josh gently nudges Alina, forcing her to open her eyes. They'd stare at each other again. "Can we enjoy ourselves tonight, please?" He asks her.

Immediately, Alina begins to nod. "Yeah," She starts. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. You ain't did nothing," Josh says, turning away. Josh looks between his brother and sister before sniffling and shifting his gaze to the floor. Alina would return her regard out the window, watching as buildings passed them by. She still didn't know where they were going and now had to worry about meeting Josh's parents tomorrow. She's been with the company for two years and never met Rikishi, nor did the twins ever talk about him. Josh spoke of his mother a lot--a Mama's Boy, this one is.

"Alright," Trinity breathes, glancing down at her phone. The car ride quickly became awkward, and she needed a way out soon. "The GPS says we should be arriving in about five minutes." She announces.

"Good," Jon mutters. "before they start fighting back there."

"Bruh, shut up." Snaps Josh.

"You shut up," Jon echoes, turning around again. Josh sits up in his seat. "You ain't gonna do nothing."

"Says who?" Josh asks.

"Shit, me and Theo will be twins to-day!" Jon smacks his lips at him, turning his head to laugh slightly. He points at his brother, wiggling his finger quickly from left to right. "So will that right and left eye." Alina and Trinity roll their eyes at the conversation happening. The twin brothers were bickering. It was nothing new--they've seen them fight plenty of times; they're usually okay right after. Jon enjoyed knowing he could effortlessly get under his brother's skin. He says it's his responsibility as the eldest brother to get on his nerves, but Josh would beg to differ.

"Wait till we get out of this car." Josh threatens, prompting Jon to throw his hands up in feigning fear.

"Can y'all not do this right now?" Trinity says.

"Yeah," Alina agrees, looking between the twin brothers. "Last time, someone called the cops." She reminds them. Their fights were never serious, just a headlock and a shove here and there. If one threw a hit too hard, the other would initiate an actual scuffle. It was rare, but it happened. The brothers stared at each other in silence, one with a goofy grin, the other with a gaze cold enough to kill a man.

"Ay, listen to your wife," Josh advises, pointing his index finger at him.

"Listen to yours." Jon echoes back. Alina cut her eyes at Josh to see his reaction to the title his brother gave her. Josh glances in Alina's direction briefly before relaxing in his seat. She furrows her brows a little, glancing between Jon and Trinity before letting her eyes settle on her boyfriend. Alina half-expected Josh to scold his brother about the 'wife' comments like he commonly did, but it never came.

The car slows to a halt, cueing everyone to look at the windows. They were in the parking lot of a karaoke lounge. Alina quickly turns her attention towards the Fatu trio in front of her. "Oh, are y'all deadass?" She asks, earning grins from everyone.

"A family that karaoke together stays together," Jon says. "Now get your ass out of the car." He tells her. She looked at Josh, who was already getting out. Her reaction was why he didn't mention where they were going. He knew that if she found out they were going to a karaoke bar, she would try to find a way out of the date. He wasn't going to allow that to happen.

Josh made his way around to her side of the car, opening her door. She peers up at him with wide eyes. "Baby." She whispers at him.

"Get out the car, Alina." He tells her, holding his hand out for her to take. She sits there for a moment, her mouth agape. Josh tucks his lips between his teeth, his eyes briefly going to the ground. He was trying not to laugh in her face about this, but her reaction was just what he expected it to be. She never wanted to do things that she felt were embarrassing, and now she had no choice. He was forcing her out of her comfort zone. "Come on now, honey, the driver got places to be." He says, urging her to get out.

She glances back at the driver, who is glancing back and forth between the couple. He waited patiently for the chaotic group to leave his car, but Alina refused to let him end this ride. "How much to drive me back home?" She asks him. Josh smacks his lips at the question, reaching in to pull her from the car. "Josh!"

"Have a good night." He calls out to the driver before shutting the door behind Alina.

The couple begins to walk towards the entrance of the lounge. Music and terrible singing are heard outside the venue, making Alina's stomach knot. "I'm not singing." She tells him, making him scoff.

"We'll see." He says, holding the door open for her.

"I mean it." She says, looking at him as she passes him on the way in.

Josh didn't believe that one bit. If he knew only one thing about Alina, he knew that with the right amount of alcohol in her system, she'd do anything. Whether sober Lina liked it or not, drunk Lina was going to be on that stage singing her heart out by the end of the night.

She wasn't a terrible singer either. She was quite the opposite. Alina grew up in church as a choir girl, versed in the hymns of her ancestors. That wasn't her choice; her mother made her do it. She now avoids having to do it unless her grandmother asks her to. Josh knew she could sing. He's heard her sing softly to herself plenty of times before and thinks she has the prettiest voice. It was never where he was supposed to hear her. She sang behind closed doors, in the safeties of her shower, or the kitchen while she cooked, but never where he was supposed to hear her.

The group of four approaches the hostess, the older woman's eyes lighting up at them. "Well, this ain't a sight you see often in here." She says, coming around the podium to hug the twins and Trinity. Alina quickly caught on that this was a regular spot for the Fatus when they were here in Pensacola--which was strange because Josh couldn't sing to save his fucking life.

"Hey, Miss Lana." Jon greets her, wrapping her in a tight embrace before passing her off to his wife. "How you been?" He asks.

"Good, your father was in here last night." She says. "Are y'all gonna out-perform him tonight?" She asks, moving on from Trinity and on to Josh. She notices the black eye, but she has but opts out of questioning it. The boy has gotten into fights for as long as she's known him, so picking up a career in wrestling made sense for him. What a strong warrior spirit behind that sweet face of his.

"C'mon, Miss Lana, you already know." He answers, pulling back from the hug. Miss Lana turns her attention to Alina, giving her a look over.

"Now, who's this pretty girl next to you, Joshua?" She asks. Alina holds her hand out, a bright smile on her face.

"I'm Alina, Josh's girlfriend." She says. Alina wasn't sure of the importance of this woman to the Fatus, but it did seem she was in tight with their entire family. She didn't want any negative word to get back to The Twins' parents that she was anything short of sweet. The older lady takes her hand and shakes it gently.

"Pleasure," She nods, turning her attention to Josh. His gaze shifts from Alina to the little lady again, his eyebrows raised. He had been watching how the two women interacted with each other, hoping that the family friend would approve of her. "Something tells me she's a keeper." She informs him, earning a mental sigh from the man.

The little old lady turns away from the group, walking back around the podium. "I would be crazy not to agree." He says, reaching down to wrap his hand around Alina's. She squeezes gently, getting a tight squeeze back from him. She smiles softly to herself, her eyes finding the ground.

"Well, I'll let y'all go in. Have fun." Miss Lana says, shooing them away. Josh would begin to pull Alina into the lounge area. The space was dimly lit, adorned in purple, red, and blue lights to set the mood. Each table had candles at its center to make the setting intimate. Currently on the stage was someone singing a terrible rendition of Insatiable by Prince. The lounge was packed with people, a constant for this place. It was extremely popular with the people of Pensacola.

They stop in front of a vacant table for four, the Twins moving around to pull out chairs for their women. Trinity and Alina sit in the two chairs toward the middle, leaving Jon and Josh to both be on the outside. "So take it slow, baby, and let's unwind!" Sings the person on the stage, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers. "Do you really want all my clothes off?" He asks, running his hand over his chest and gyrating his hips.

Alina's eyes widen when the singer erupts into a shrill scream, earning more applause. "Oh no." She groans to herself. She turned to Josh, who was still standing next to his seat. He was watching the performer, his head moving to the song. She taps his leg, making him lean down to her height. "This was not what I expected when you said double date!" She shouts over the booming music and people.

"Oh, you said you want a drink?" He replies. He was purposely ignoring her complaining at the moment. She furrows her brows at his response.

"What? No, I said--." Josh turns and walks off toward the bar. Jon follows after him, leaving Trinity and Alina alone. Lina scoffs to herself. "You could've given me a heads up." She says, turning towards her friend.

Josh and Jon approached the bar together, both leaning up against it at the same time. "Thanks for doing this with me, Uce," Josh says, clasping his hands together tight. Jon glances over at his brother, his eyes immediately going up to the bruise on his eye. He shakes his head gently.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" He asks, bypassing the appreciation his brother was trying to show him. "Did he hit you with a brick or something?" He asks. Josh sucked in a breath, his jaw clenching and unclenching while he tried to choose his words carefully.

"He had on some rings--or something; I wasn't paying attention." He answers. "All I remember is that he came over talking about some; he asked Alina to leave me and be with him. She told him no, and he followed it up with, 'Well, she told me she loved me, and I love her too'." The bartender would come over to them, interrupting their conversation. "Let me get a beer and a tequila sunrise." He answers for him and Alina; Jon orders for him and Trin, sending the bartender on his way.

Josh pulls out his wallet, getting ready to pay, but Jon taps his shoulder. "I got it, Uce, y'all been through it this weekend." He says, prompting Josh to put his wallet back in his pocket. Jon slides his card across the countertop to the bartender. "What did you say to make him hit you that hard?" He asks after several moments of silence. "Because you had to have said something crazy." Jon assumes.

Josh gives a smug grin, glancing down at his hands. "Why do you assume I said something crazy?" He asks. Jon and Josh look up at each other at the same time. A smile grows on Jon's face.

"Because I know you, stupid." He notes. "What did you say?"

Josh chuckles softly. "I asked him if he thought Alina would play house with him and then told him that if she wanted to be a mother, all she had to do was ask me." He confesses. Jon stares at him for a few moments longer before bursting into laughter.

"Yeah, you deserved that shit, Uce." He says, leaning into his brother. "That's some crazy shit to say to a person's ex." He tells him. Josh would shrug slightly, his eyes averting to the drinks placed on the countertop for them. Josh reaches forward for his beer, taking a quick swig of it. "Did he draw blood?" Jon asks suddenly, his eyes on his brother again. Josh's eyes remain fixated on the beer bottle in his hand. He twisted it from left to right as he studied the label.

He knew where this was going. Always the Devil on his shoulder, that Jon was. "Yeah." He answers.

"So, we're getting your lick back, right?" He presses, prompting Josh to look at him. They would watch each other silently for a few before Jon pressed on. "It's only fair. Blood for blood."

"You trying to get us arrested."

"Not if provoked." He says quickly.

Josh smacks his lips at him, looking at his brother. "Man, what?" He asks.

"Let him pop up again. He's in the friend group, ain't he?" He asks. "Alina's gonna get an invite somewhere--."

"Fuck no," He starts. "you going to have me fuck up her friendships more than I already have." He tells Jon. Despite Alina blaming everything that happened yesterday on her, Josh took full responsibility for the events of the evening. He was confident that was causing Tasha to not talk to her, and he planned on fixing it eventually. He just needed to figure out how to approach it without making everything worse, and fighting was not a solution. With one last glance at his big brother, Josh grabs Alina's drink from the counter and walks towards the table.

Jon appears next to Josh with his drinks in hand. "All you gotta do is let me know when something is happening, I'll plan a trip to Atlanta for me and Trin, and we'll get his ass outside somewhere." He proposes. Josh comes to a stop.

"Bruh, no." He objects. "I'm not doing that to Alina." He stresses with a shake of his head. Josh resumes his walk to the table, leaving Jon blown away by his refusal to fight. Any other time, Josh would have said 'hell yeah' to beating up someone, but he was not interested in hurting Alina more than she already is. The fight that happened last night shouldn't have even happened, and he regretted even entertaining Theo's ass. Was this growth? Maybe, maybe not.

In Jon's eyes, Theo deserved an ass-whooping. What do you mean you approached his brother and told him you tried to sabotage his relationship? What do you mean you initiated a fight, your boys saved you from getting fucked up, and you drew blood? That man should be on his way to a hospital! Jon watches as Josh passes Alina off her drink.

Eh, he just needed a little more persuading.

"Thank you, baby," Alina says as she takes the Tequila Sunrise. Josh sits down next to her, pulling his chair to her side. His knees pressed into the side of her leg, his body leaning in towards her.

"Yo, we want to thank everyone for coming out for R&B night tonight," The DJ starts. "It's gonna be a night of love and nothing but straight vibes, you feel me?" The crowd cheered around them. "We got any lovers in the crowd tonight?" Alina lifts her hand to her mouth, letting out her own cheer.

She then leans towards Josh, causing his eyes to light up at the attention. "That's all you're getting out of me tonight." She tells him, making him laugh. She leans away once more, her eyes going to the stage. He taps her leg, calling her attention back to him. She leans in again, giving a quick peck to his lips.

"The next person on the list will serenade you with the sounds of Jon B. Ladies and Gentlemen, give it up for Max." The DJ says, calling out for the next person in the queue. What was interesting about this karaoke lounge to Alina was how receptive everyone was to being there. The cheers of drunken patrons helped make those on stage feel more comfortable embarrassing themselves.

They Don't Know started to play throughout the lounge as the next performer got on stage. "How y'all doing tonight?" He calls out. Jovialities break out around the room, including Josh, who only shouts to make Alina laugh, which he does successfully. "Sing along if you know the word. Clap on the beat if you don't," Max instructs them. "Heard about my past, the things I used to do." He sings off-key. Alina grimaces slightly at the delivery, bringing her glass to her lips. Maybe this will all start sounding right by the night's end if she gets more drinks in her system.

Josh leans into Alina again, his mouth to her ear. "How are you feeling?" He asks, sending shivers down her spine. He probably shouldn't ask as often, but he needed to know.

She glances down at her drink before turning her head to face him. "Considering I still don't have my phone?" She asks.

"You're not getting your phone back tonight." He says quickly, shaking his head. "I told you I need you here with me." He reminds her.

She watches him for a moment, her eyes skimming over his face. "She's my best friend, Josh." She says finally.

"I understand that," He starts. "but she could care less that you are losing sleep over her. You've been trying to contact her, and she's not answering. I don't like that." Tasha and Alina were two grown adults who could settle their differences with a simple conversation, but one refused. He could see why they were best friends now; Alina did that to them often when she was upset with him. Alina looks away from him, her eyes focused on the performer on the stage now. "Ay," He says, calling her attention back to him. "You shouldn't have had to find out from someone else that she was mad at you." He says, shaking his head gently at her.

He was right. Alina shouldn't have had to find out that way, but she understood why she did. She would be upset too if that was her wedding and her maid of honor and boyfriend were fighting the best man during a day that was supposed to be about her. "She wants to act like this, let her. Give her her space and let her come to you. That's what I do." He says, making her hang her head and laugh.

"That's what you do?" She asks, looking up at him. He smiles big at her.

"Yeah, that's what I do." He repeats, nodding his head. "You still here, aren't you?" He asks. She grins at his question before nodding slowly. Josh leans in, pressing a few kisses to her lips. "It's going to work itself out one way or another." He promises.

"I know," She starts. "I'm just worried."

"And that's fine," He says. "If something changes, I'll be here; so will Trin and Jon, but until then, be here with us. We planned this whole outing just for you."

Alina tilts her head to the side. "And you chose a karaoke bar?" She asks.

"Ay, it's fun. You're just hating right now cause you're in a bad mood, and that's fine." He says. "I forgive you, though." Josh looks away from Alina and to the stage. The tone-deaf singer that was up there was finally closing out his song.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the night progressed and more drinks got into her system, Alina began to liven up. She found herself singing along with the performers that were up on the stage. She sways from left to right in her seat, her right foot tapping as she does so. Yesterday's events quickly became an afterthought for sober Lina to worry about tomorrow. Lina was in a great mood right now.

Josh had walked off a few moments ago; she assumed to get more drinks, but it's been a while. She turns in her seat towards the front of the building, eyes scanning the bar for a mullet of curls. When she didn't spot them, she turned to Jon and Trin, who were cuddled up with each other. Trin had moved from her seat into her man's lap, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. She taps Jon's arm, getting both of their attention.

"Where did Josh go?" She asks. As soon as the question left her mouth, Trin started looking around the venue. Jon did a slow turn towards the bar. When he didn't see him there, he looked at Alina.

"He ain't gone far." He assures him. Josh wasn't one to wander after a few drinks. Then again, they did get lost in Times Square that one time. He quickly expelled the thought of his twin running off somewhere drunkenly from his mind. "I'll call him." He says, removing his phone from his pocket.

Alina snatches Josh's phone off the table and shows it to his brother. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we got a rare treat for y'all tonight in The Marina Lounge," The DJ starts. "Get ready to be serenaded with the sweet sounds of Pensacola's own, Ucey Juicey!" If Alina turned her head any faster, she would've broken her neck. I know that ain't who I think it is, she thought, standing to her feet to see over the crowds of standing people.

"Yeeeeeeet," Josh says into the mic, confirming Alina's suspicions quickly. Her boyfriend was on the stage, slapping hands with the people in the front row. He wasn't about to sing, was he?

"Good God up above..." She says to herself.

"Ay, I want to dedicate this song to the love of my life, the future Mrs. Joshua Fatu, Miss Lina McLemore." He says, making her hang her head at the dedication. "That's my best friend, y'all, I love her." Dear God, he was about to sing. Music began playing, prompting Alina to look at the stage in second-hand embarrassment, half of her face covered as she watched her man prepare to make an ass of himself.

The crowd clapped to the beat, hyping him up more than before. He takes a sip of the Tequila Sunrise he had in his hand, which could be the cause of this performance. At what point in the night he switched to fruity drinks was a mystery to her. "I can't imagine life without you by my side..." He sings. He slurred his words together as he sang the first few lines. Alina stifles a laugh, closing her eyes to gather her composure.

"Damn, not you got this man singing songs for you," Jon says, earning a glare from her. "Tyrese at that? That boy sprung." Trinity slaps his chest.

"I don't see you singing for me." She says.

"I'ma sing for you later. My falsetto nice." He says, sticking his tongue out. Both girls would groan at his response. Alina turns her attention back to the stage.

"Things tend to slip my mind like how you like to wine and dine, babe..." He sings, lifting the hand that held his plastic cup in the air. "Yeet." He adds. Alina giggles lightly at him, turning to grab his phone. She needed to record this. No one at work would believe her unless Lina showed them. She takes hers from beneath Josh's, switching the phone into camera mode. "Ay! Have I told you I loved you? Alina..." He sings. "Have I told you that you mean the world to me..."

Josh started to dance, letting the instrumental play for a few moments. "The song, Uce! Sing the damn song!" Jon shouts, reminding his brother to sing.

The younger twin stops dancing, leaning over slightly to laugh at himself. "My bad, y'all--." He apologizes, looking up at the teleprompter. "Where the fuck was I?" He asks himself. Someone would shout something at him, making him laugh again. "Ay, you ain't lied!" He responds, pointing at them.

Alina turns to Jon. "I hope you know you're helping me get him in the house." She tells him. Jon cringes slightly, pulling his bottom lip down at her words. His hand goes up to the back of his neck, rubbing at the back.

"Jon," Trinity says, looking back at him.

"I'm not going to let her carry his big ass in alone, girl, damn." He says, bringing his hand to his chest. "I was just playing." He says to Trin. She leans in to press two kisses to his lips.

"And verbally, I tend to forget how much I L-O-V-E-U really means..." Josh yells into the microphone, bringing Alina, Trin, and Jon's attention back to his drunken singing. "Lately, have I told you I loved you? Alina..." Adding her name to the lyrics made her laugh. Her feelings of embarrassment began to subside the longer she watched him.

Josh made it his life's mission to remind Alina often how much he loved her. If he didn't use words, he would express it with his actions, eyes, and hands, in silence, alone, or on stage in a crowded room full of drunken people. If he could do it on national television, he would. That man was in love, and there was no denying it.

The song ends, and the crowd erupts into cheers again. Alina would join them, a big smile on her face. "Thank you, thank you," Josh says, passing the microphone off to the DJ. Josh came walking through the crowd, dapping up people greeting him on his way back to his table. "How'd I do?" He asks his group once he makes it over. Josh wraps an arm around Alina's shoulders, draping his weight on her body and causing them to stagger barely. He leans in to press several kisses to her lips, the taste of orange juice and tequila still in his mouth.

"You're not going to Hollywood, that's for sure." She teases between kisses.

"That's fine," He starts. He turns his head to finish the last of his drink. "I'm tryna take you home, though," He says, leaning in for one more kiss. "Give you an encore performance." Thick black eyebrows lift to help with the delivery of his words.

"You're going to sleep when we get home." She tells him.

"Who said that?" He questions.

"Me." She replies.

He points at the stage, looking over his shoulder slightly at it. "Girl, I just sang my ass off on that stage for you." He says, looking back at her. "Panties gotta drop."

"Boy--." She starts, pulling back to look at him. She laughs softly at his words. "We are going home, and your drunk ass is going to sleep! That's final." He scoffs at her, tilting his head up in disbelief. His brows furrowed, and his top lip curled slightly. The man was shocked, hurt, sad, and possibly depressed at her rejection. In reality, he was being dramatic.

"See if I sing for your ass again." He tells her.

"I hope not." She says, looking back at Jon and Trin. "Y'all ready to go?" She breathes.

Trin and Jon stand to their feet, both nodding simultaneously. "Yeah, we can call it a night." The eldest twin answers. "Let's get Keith Sweat over here home." He says, with a sigh. Josh lifts his middle finger at his brother, but Alina pushes it back down. She takes that hand of his, unwraps his arm from her shoulders, and pulls him towards the entrance.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Josh asks. Even though he was heavily intoxicated, he still wanted to make sure his girl had fun. That was the goal for the night: to make sure she had fun.

She turns to face him, a broad smile on her face. "I did."

Josh nods to himself, proud he was able to get her mind off of everything. "Good." He answers. It would get temporarily quiet between the pair as they watched each other. "I'll send you my bill since you won't fuck me."

"Josh!" She groans.

"I'm just saying."

PART ELEVEN

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A/N: we love a good double date! i wasn't planning on this chapter to be as long as it was, but here we are. 🤭

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland @fandomphasess @evilli0s

#wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #jey uso #main event jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x oc #jey uso fanfic #Spotify

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shaunamilfman · 1 month ago

Text

ghost you dressed up as [2.5]

pairing: Jackie Taylor x Shauna Shipman x Reader summary: r telling jackieshauna about the date she's going on between chapters 2 and 3. note: a gift for @soffsh2, without whom half of my fics wouldn't be possible. masterlist

“You're going on a what?” Jackie asks again, as stressed as you've ever seen her.

Her usual attempt at composure is so far gone you almost wonder if you imagined it in the first place, leaving nothing but a barely contained fury in its wake. She sits across from you on the bed, shoulders hunched like she's expecting a blow, hands clenching and unclenching in her lap with a ferocity that actually makes you a bit nervous.

“A date, Jackie,” You repeat again, the third time since you started counting. Which means you've probably repeated it at least ten times before you started getting a little fed up with the whole experience.

Jackie, however, still looks like she's experiencing it for the first time. If you're being specific, it looks like she's experiencing sucking on a lemon for the first time as well–face scrunched up like she's tasted something that doesn't agree with her. Every so often her lips twitch, like she has something to say but can't quite figure out how to get her mouth to form the words.

“I didn't know that Tatum was like… us,” She says slowly, voice pitched high with something like panic.

Like us, you muse. You're not sure you've ever heard Jackie say the words before, at least not out loud. Gay, she means.

The knowledge has been unspoken between the three of you for months, but not unknown. It's not like the way the two of them looked at each other was ever subtle, and you'd certainly been caught more than once sneaking looks at girls. Still, it's more direct than you thought Jackie would be.

“Really? Even when she and Sidney kept sneaking off upstairs and coming back with messy hair and matching hickeys?”

She blinks, clearly caught off guard by the question. Her eyes widen for a second before narrowing, her confusion quickly turning into something defensive. She opens her mouth wordlessly before frowning.

Jackie glances over at Shauna, seeking her support as always, but Shauna can't bring herself to move away from the warmth of your torso. You hadn't been entirely sure what to do with yourself when she climbed up the bed and settled between your legs like she belonged there, but Shauna didn't let that stop her from getting comfortable, face pressed into your stomach like it held the answer to all of her problems.

Shauna's got one hand fisted into the fabric of your shirt and the other splayed possessively across your ribcage. The heat of her body pressed into yours feels like it's consuming you, holding almost all of your attention hostage as you struggle your way through a conversation with Jackie. It's made you hyper aware of every single movement Shauna makes; every breath or slight shift makes you burn as she brushes against your skin. Her legs are tangled with yours, keeping you firmly held down against the bed.

No amount of squirming on your part seems to matter as far as Shauna is concerned.

Shauna hums lightly in response, a sound that spells acknowledgment more than any genuine interest. She grabs onto your shirt even tighter, rubbing her cheek idly against your stomach.

Jackie rolls her eyes, slapping lightly at Shauna's leg. Shauna doesn't even acknowledge it beyond stretching her leg out to kick at Jackie with no real intention of hitting her. The gesture is so dismissive that Jackie looks like she's about to start screaming.

“Besides, no one's like you, Jackie.”

Is it a compliment?

You're not sure.

Jackie sure seems to think so. She immediately preens, chest puffing and back straightening as she feigns a look of modesty that's entirely too self-satisfied to be plausible. Suddenly, with an abruptness that's almost laughable, she frowns as she remembers she's mad at you. Jackie gives you a little glare, just strong enough to make you feel like you've been called to the principal's office.

Shauna nips at your stomach through your shirt, not hard enough to do damage but enough for you to know she caught it. Her expression is weird when you finally spare her a look, her face alight in displeasure and her eyes looking like they're staring straight through your soul. It makes you shift a bit beneath her, uncomfortable at the intensity of emotion being directed your way. Shauna seems to notice a split second too late, trying to half-heartedly give you a smile that looks far more sinister than it has any right to before just giving up and pressing her face back into you. Her hands press harder, with a desperation that makes your throat dry and your heart speed up.

“A date,” Jackie repeats again, even slower.

“Yes, Jackie, a date. You know, that thing where people dress nice and–”

“I know what a date is,” Jackie interrupts, her lips pressed into a thin line. The way she looks at you makes you feel like you've committed a crime. You'd plead for the death penalty if she'd just stop looking at you like that. “I just don't understand why you want to go on one.”

“Who doesn't want to go out on a date with a pretty girl?” You say lightly, hoping it'll break up the tension.

It doesn't.

Jackie doesn't like that at all, her eye twitching as she clenches her fists so tightly her knuckles go white. The motion is so sudden that you wonder for a brief moment if she's going to hit something–or someone.

“Girls who have their friends waiting at home for them,” Jackie says, her voice strained around the edges. You can feel Shauna tense on top of you, but she remains silent for the moment. She hasn't moved, still content to soak up your warmth.

“This is what normal people do, Jackie. I don't understand why you're making it such a big deal. I'm sure you and Shauna go on dates together without me, don't you?”

Jackie doesn't grace that question with an answer. “Not a big deal? Not. A. Big. Deal? You're going out with someone who's not–” She stops herself mid-sentence, all that steam she's gathered up dissipating just as quickly as she flops down gracelessly next to you to scream into your pillow.

“Who's not what, Jackie?”

Jackie mutters something into the pillow, muffled and sounding appropriately whiny. You roll your eyes.

“It's fine, Jackie,” Shauna says simply, abnormally calm. You would've expected her to be the one flying off the handle over Jackie, and the way she's been casually accepting it seems unnatural. “We'll just be at the party too.”

“No, Shauna I don't–” You start.

“Don't want to go out without us there? I know.” Shauna gives you a sharp look, lips upturned at the corners into an almost mocking smile–like she knows something you don't.

“It's dangerous to go out on your own. Don't you know people are getting killed? I'd hate to see something happen to you because you went out on a date,” Shauna spits out the word like it's left a bad taste in her mouth before continuing, “While there's a killer on the loose.”

“We're just worried about you,” Jackie rushes to add, noticing the look on your face as she shoots Shauna a look.

“Worried?” Shauna asks. “I'm not worried. I just think it's a little reckless, don't you?” She pauses, not long enough for you to actually get a word in edgewise. A moment stretched on just long enough to make you squirm.

“But hey,” Shauna tilts her head to the side, her smile sharp enough to cut. “You're an adult, right?”

“Jesus Christ,” You mutter, knowing there's no point in arguing anymore. You were lucky to get the deal you got. “Fine.”

Jackie rolls over to face you, smile wide and content like she was never upset in the first place. Her moods shift so quickly it's almost dizzying the way she effortlessly slips back into a different version of herself.

She scoots even closer, effectively entangling herself with the two of you as she presses her face into your shoulder. Seemingly at random, she adds her limbs to the pile, an arm draped over the two of you like a brand. Her fingers settle just beneath the hem of your shirt with an intimacy that seems out of place when her girlfriend is right there.

“Then it's settled.” You can feel Jackie’s smile against your skin as she says the words.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader #jackie taylor x reader

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underdark-dreams · 1 year ago

Note

I would like to request something soft and sweet. Years after saving the Gate and having moved in with Rolan, Cal, and Lia, Tav is enjoying the day reading/admiring Rolan as he works, and then either a) Tav asks Rolan to marry them or b) Rolan asks Tav to marry him.

Thank you 💕💕

Rolan x fem!Tav

Was it wrong to feel selfish about the person you loved? Rolan and Tav finally get a night alone at the Tower to talk about what each of them wants.

Tags: Romantic Fluff, Mild Angst, Marriage Proposals | SFW

Word Count: 4,316 [Read on AO3]

“All right, all right. Three harpies at once, no weapons. How do you win?”

“Do they have the high ground?”

From the settee by the fire, Lia pointed down at her little brother as though he’d brought up a key point. “You’re on even terrain.”

“Right, this one’s easy.” Cal settled back comfortably against the rug with hands clasped behind his head. “I start yelling loud enough that I can’t hear the harpy song. Then, I charge at whichever one’s singing loudest and knock the wind out of them with my horns, and then, you know." He waved a hand around vaguely. "Rough 'em up."

“So fucking stupid—” Lia fell sideways in her seat, clutching her side with laughter.

“I keep telling you, you’re always forgetting about the horns.” Cal jabbed a finger at his forehead. “Natural advantage, Lia, you should know this by now.”

The absurd conversation was impossible to block out, but Rolan made an attempt as he bent over his desk. Behind him, he felt Tav's chest reverberating with laughter at his siblings.

She was in one of her affectionate moods tonight. She'd drawn up a chair behind his in order to rest her cheek against his back, one wrist draped loosely over his shoulder.

Rolan didn't mind the closeness—he never did from her. But between her warmth and his siblings' ridiculous game of what-if, he'd barely written one paragraph in the past ten minutes. He finally gave up and set aside his quill.

Tav shifted slightly on his shoulder. "How's Gale?" She asked, perhaps feeling guilty about interrupting his concentration.

“He’s well. His new class has a few with real promise, according to Tara.”

"I can't believe Tara likes you more than me," she mumbled suddenly against his back. "I met her first."

Her petulant tone made his mouth twitch into a smile. He would’ve turned to kiss her if they were alone. Instead, Rolan only pressed his lips to the hand draped over his shoulder. "Tressyms know a good wizard when they see one, dearest."

“Makes two of us,” she replied. The soft words ghosted across the skin on his neck, raising goosebumps under his collar.

It suddenly seemed like a very good idea to tell his siblings to get lost. Rolan was saved the necessity by a stroke of good timing. Near the fireplace, there was the soft clinking of plate armor as Lia got to her feet.

“Right, I’m off—” Lia buckled her scabbard around her waist as she rose, her shortsword tip clanking against the greaves over her shins. “Can’t be late to lead my first evening patrol.”

It had never occurred to Rolan before that Lia might end up in the Flaming Fist. He had to remind himself that the company’s reputation had improved considerably in the year since Florrick had succeeded Ulder Ravengard. Corruption and bad behavior had flourished under Gortash, but Florrick had done much to clean the Fists’ ranks of the worst—at least within the city walls.

As he looked at her now, standing tall in her emblazoned surcoat, Rolan realized that his young sister was quite grown up. She’d earned a promotion to Gauntlet faster than any of them expected, a fact she loved to remind them of—especially Rolan. Lia took care of others the way she always had, and now she could take care of herself. The thought was somehow bittersweet in Rolan’s chest.

"Me as well," Cal chimed in from the floor. Though he only stretched arms and legs out long with a massive yawn.

“Don’t rush off,” Rolan drawled, but there was affection in it.

“Highberry’s are across the street, I got a few minutes.” Cal scrubbed his face with both hands as if to wake himself. “We got new ones at the orphanage last week, twin boys. They’re good kids, but gods, do they play hard…feel like my back’s aged about ten years…”

Lia stepped over to give him a hand up with a chuckle. “Read the room, Cal. The lovers need their alone time.”

Cal glanced around at the two in question. Tav still rested her cheek on Rolan’s shoulder with an expression of dreamy happiness, while Rolan was failing to hide a scowl. Lia knew how he hated when either of them used that word.

“Ah, right—” Cal slipped to his feet, sounding eager to be off all of a sudden. “I’ll be back after sunrise. Keep the place together while I’m gone?” He added, a fine joke considering Cal was always the one breaking things.

Rolan’s only response was to wave his quill behind him in a shooing motion. Tav called a friendly goodbye to brother and sister as they made their way down the main staircase, chatting as they went.

Once their footsteps had retreated completely, her restraint evaporated. “Thank the Gods, come here—”

Rolan barely managed to save his inkwell from overturning as she twisted to launch her torso across his lap, capturing his face in both hands for an enthusiastic kiss. His near arm gripped around her middle, no doubt leaving ink stains from his fingers against her linen shirt—he found himself unable to care about anything but the sweet taste of her lips.

They each pulled away for breath at the same moment. Tav’s grip lingered, her fingers combing back through his hair gently to clasp together at his nape.

“Hello,” she grinned. Her eyes roamed over his face like he was everything.

Rolan’s palm brushed down her back, utterly content. “Hello.”

They took each other in like that for a long moment, just enjoying the quiet closeness. Her fingers smoothed and combed the hair back from beside Rolan’s horns needlessly—a fussy gesture that nevertheless brought a hum of contentment to his chest.

Apparently satisfied that she had him put back to sorts, Tav’s hands moved to rest on Rolan’s shoulders. “Got more work to do?”

Though she phrased it as a question, Rolan sensed she already knew the answer. He let out a reluctant sigh.

“Go on,” said Tav, not waiting for his reply. Rolan’s shoulders received a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll wait for you.”

With one last soft kiss, she slid off his lap and away. Rolan said nothing, but he instantly missed the warm weight of her against him.

Tav retrieved her current reading from the shelves behind and curled up on the now-vacant settee near the fireplace. Though his spirit rebelled, Rolan picked up his quill again to continue writing his last few replies. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could join her.

For a while the vaulted room settled into a quiet, echoing lull. There was the crackle of magical flame in the great stone hearth; the rhythmic scratch of ink against parchment; the faint whistle of an evening breeze out on the open balcony beyond. Periodically, he heard Tav turn another page of her book.

Before long he’d reached the final sealed envelope on the day’s pile. As Rolan stretched his hand for it, he caught sight of Tav watching him over the back of her seat.

“What?”

“Just admiring,” she sighed, eyes sparkling. “You look so handsome when you’re concentrating like that.”

Rolan’s brow wrinkled playfully at her. “Am I not usually handsome?”

“Always.”

“Hmm. You just think that because you’re in love with me,” Rolan replied curtly. He turned back to his work in an attempt to hide the way she made him smile and flush like an idiot.

“Both can be true,” she called back, not denying anything. But Rolan heard the shuffle of pages as she returned to her reading.

It took him a moment to regain concentration on his work. Rolan’s eyes reread several lines of the letter before him multiple times. But this one was truly quite important—a missive from the archwizards’ council at Blackstaff Tower. They were inquiring about his arcane research, apparently intrigued for the first time in years by his own Tower’s new ownership. He dove back in to focus on answering their questions in detail.

Half an hour and five sheets of parchment later, Rolan finally surfaced back to reality. He straightened up and promptly felt a pop in his neck from his stiff writing posture. The last light of sunset had slipped from the sky, leaving inky blackness behind each vaulted window of the cathedral-like interior.

As he rolled his aching shoulders, Rolan glanced toward Tav—only to find that the seat by the fire was empty. Rolan glanced back around the room, finding the rest of it empty as well.

Had she given up waiting and gone up to bed? The thought disappointed him, though it opened up other possibilities.

But Tav had told him she'd wait, and she wouldn't lie. As he rose from his desk to search for her, Rolan caught a faint metallic tap from the balcony.

Her silhouette was cast in relief against the dark sky. It was a moonless night; the pale orange glow of lamplight from the streets far below was the only light lining the edge of her figure, that and what little firelight streamed out through the highly vaulted doorway. Tav leaned on her elbows, the pewter wine glass under her fingers tapping an absent little rhythm against the stone railing. It was one of her habits when deep in thought.

Rolan allowed himself a moment to admire her. Seeing her in a quiet pose like this was one of his favorite things in all the Realms. Tav had become so many things to so many people in the short year he’d known her: hero, savior, diplomat, even rather a politician.

But tonight, for now…she was just Tav. His Tav.

Rolan felt a pang of something like guilt in his stomach. It was by no means the first time he’d had such a feeling about her. His; possessive, controlling. It reminded him of the way he used to think before she came into his life.

For a long time, Rolan had felt a need to control the people he loved. If he didn’t, who would? Control just went hand in hand with protection. Caring for others was a luxury, and if the events of his life had taught him anything up to that point, it was that fate and misfortune were always looking for ways to separate you from what you cared about most.

And Tav had slipped so easily into the deepest depths of his heart. At first begrudgingly, resentfully…Rolan hadn’t exactly seen her as a welcome addition to their lives when they’d first met long ago on the road to Baldur’s Gate.

Right now, it was impossible to imagine anything but love for her.

As Rolan watched a soft breeze ruffle the ends of her hair, something uncertain bloomed inside of him. Was it wrong to feel selfish like this about the person you loved? The question hung unanswered in his chest. Rolan felt its weight there tonight, like a heavy stone dragging on his heart.

His hand absently brushed against the small leather pouch he kept tied on his belt—there was a small clink of metal against metal from inside.

“Just going to stand there?”

Tav’s voice brought him back to reality in the most pleasant way. Rolan blinked to find that his legs had carried him forward to the arched doorway of their own volition.

Tav stood a few strides away, watching him over her shoulder with a bemused smile. The firelight streaming out from behind him softly illuminated her features.

In the next moment, Rolan had closed the distance to tilt her face into a kiss. Her empty cup clattered forgotten to the stone tiles at their feet. Would he ever tire of the way her arms circled around his shoulders like that?

Rolan didn’t think it was likely—he nuzzled against her cheek as their lips parted, inhaling her familiar and comforting scent.

“What’s with you tonight?” Tav laughed, the sound breathy and soft against his collar.

“What?” Rolan protested, drawing her away slightly to examine her face. “Can’t I appreciate the woman I love?”

A happy flush rose to her cheeks, unnoticeable in the dim to someone without Rolan’s precise vision. But notice he did, just as she caught the way his golden eyes traveled over her expression. Tav pressed her face back into his shoulder as her arms squeezed tighter around him.

“I wish we had more time,” she said against the crook of his neck.

Rolan tried to quell the instinctive panic that rose in his chest at her words. Instead, he stroked a hand over her hair. “What do you mean?”

The way she paused before answering allowed Rolan’s heart just enough time to wind up to a brisk rhythm against his ribcage. Eventually, Tav leaned back to look at him. Her expression had grown quite serious.

“I know that you—” She cut herself off, then wet her lips and began again. “Rolan, this place is your life. I’m not under any misconceptions that all this—” She tipped her head and looked sideways as if to indicate the Tower itself. “—That any of it’s going away any time soon. You know that, right?”

Her face tilted toward him with utter sincerity. Rolan found that his thoughts were forming with an odd slowness, as if swimming around his brain through something gelatinous.

“And you’ve been very understanding,” he managed to tell her. The guilt from earlier returned its grip over his chest. “More than I deserve.”

She sighed as her hand rose to his cheek. “Thank you for saying that…but you wouldn’t if you knew how often I daydream about kidnapping you away all for myself.”

Before Rolan could find a response to that, Tav had stepped back out of his grip with a soft curse.

“Damn—” She swore again, then wrung her hands with a shaky, anxious laugh. “This shouldn’t be this hard.”

Rolan still didn’t understand quite what she was saying, a sensation that he found deeply uncomfortable. It made him feel like a vessel adrift. He clasped hands behind his back to anchor himself, collecting his features into a guarded expression.

“Please,” Rolan invited her, tipping his horns to her in a way that felt awkwardly formal. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.” She chewed the inside of her lip as she watched him. There was a tense pause, and then she launched in abruptly.

“I’ve been thinking our life here in your Tower. You and me—us. And,” she added, “I’ve been thinking about your work. How much it means to you…how far you’ve come in just a year.”

Tav gave him a small smile, as if casting back to those tense and awkward times when they’d first known each other. Then her face fell again. “Sometimes it just feels like there’s something missing.”

Rolan found he had to glance away from her for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Are you unhappy?” He asked her slowly.

“What? Not at all—” Tav shook her head with vehemence. “You make me so happy, Rolan, you have no idea. It’s just that I—I’m not always satisfied,” she finished weakly.

“I see.” Rolan kept his face very still, but his pulse beat painfully in his throat.

She was unsatisfied with the life of an archmage’s partner. It was perfectly understandable—before she’d come to live with him, Tav traveled far and wide, sometimes leaving the city for a week to visit her far-flung companions across Faerûn and the very hells themselves.

A life spent cooped up in a tower, no matter how grand—how could he have ever thought it would be enough for her?

Rolan’s guilty conscience was deserved. He had been too selfish with her. He wanted her safe; he wanted her here. Most of all, he wanted Tav to want to be with him.

And Rolan had been so sure that she did. Perhaps he’d let the strength of his own feelings mislead him.

Rolan was painfully aware of the silence stretching on between them. Another evening breeze stirred the air, and as it rustled through their clothing, Tav’s eyes searched his face.

“What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

Behind his back, Rolan’s hands clenched where she couldn’t see them. Right now he was thinking of the small leather pouch that had hung from his belt for months, and the two small metal objects it contained, and the many ways he had imagined offering one of them to her. But none of those were things he should tell her now.

“Nothing,” Rolan answered aloud. “Only that I’ve been rather foolish.”

In response to that, a strange, puzzled expression passed over her face. Then her lips parted.

“Ohhhh—” The sound rose from deep in her chest, a pained exhale. “No, Rolan, no no—”

Tav stepped to grasp his face between her hands with such speed that Rolan nearly flinched in surprise at the contact.

“I’m such an idiot,” she confessed to him. Her voice was very small all of a sudden. “I know I might not have the right to ask you, Rolan—but I don’t want less. I want more.”

Rolan’s eyes traveled back and forth between hers as if there was some hidden message he was missing there. “More?” He repeated, questioning.

Tav nodded her head very slowly at him. “More of you. More of us.”

In the next instant it felt like the weight tangled around Rolan’s heart had snapped its line and plummeted straight down into his stomach. As he watched the firelight reflected earnestly in Tav’s eyes, realization shot up his spine like a shockwave.

The force of his relief made his head spin. Rolan wanted to say a dozen different things to her all at once. Unfortunately, he found that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth at the moment.

Instead—in a rare moment of clarity that was all reflex and no logic—Rolan felt himself sinking to one knee in front of her.

“Why are you—”

Tav’s eyes went wide as she followed his face down to where he landed. Her hands fell from where they’d held him to hang down limp at her sides; her chest rose and fell as if she’d run a flight of stairs.

“How can you not know by now?”

What a terrible way to begin, he thought—yet those were the words Rolan found leaving his mouth. Trying to right his thoughts, he reached for one of her hands and took it between both his own.

“Forgive me,” Rolan blurted out. “I swear I’ve practiced this before, but—I can’t remember all the best bits just now.”

Tav shook her head at him as if punch-drunk. “Don’t sell yourself short,” she whispered hoarsely.

A nervous bark of laughter escaped him. “Have you ever known me to be burdened with an excess of humility?”

Despite the electricity now swirling between them, the corners of Tav’s mouth twitched upward. “Point taken.”

Rolan used the moment to gather himself. His tongue suddenly felt two sizes too large, and he swallowed with effort against his dry mouth.

“You’ve always done so much for me. From the first moment…every moment. You’re the reason why I have Cal and Lia, why I have everything—” Rolan’s eyes left her only for a moment to pass up over the great spire of the Tower above them.

From his periphery, Tav opened her mouth to protest.

“Please listen,” Rolan begged her before she could speak. He wished he’d thought this through even a little; his knee was already starting to ache against the stone, but he pushed through the discomfort.

Tav’s figure froze still in response as she watched him. Only her hand shook slightly between his palms.

“You must know what you mean to me,” Rolan murmured. “You’ve given me so much more than I deserve. You’ve loved me more than anyone…better than anyone. But—” He drew her hand a bit closer to his chest. “But I’m afraid there’s one more thing I have to ask you for.”

Tav’s lips were parted in anticipation as she hung on his words. She stood so motionless it was like kneeling at the foot of a beautiful statue. Only her wide eyes moved continuously over his face, and Rolan felt he could lose himself in them completely if he gazed too long.

“Let me give you more,” he asked simply. “Let me give you everything.”

“You—you damn wizard—”

As she broke her silence, Tav’s expression was flickering somewhere between amusement and tears. She was shaking her head at him, moisture pricking at the corners of her eyes. “If you don’t say it plain in the next—”

“Marry me.”

Though they stood under open sky, the two words seemed to echo with deafening force against his own ears. The question hung like a tangible physical thing, reverberating painfully in the narrow space between their bodies. Rolan could only grip her hand like a lifeline and wait for her to say something—anything.

Finally, Tav burst out into a laugh.

Or was it was a sob?

It was some strange combination of both, a choked sound of relief rising in her throat even as Rolan watched liquid suddenly spill and roll down each of her cheeks. Before he knew what was happening, Tav had also dropped to her knees in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Whatever responses Rolan had anticipated, this was one he didn’t plan for. He could only freeze and watch her cry and wait for things to make sense again.

“I don’t know,” Tav hiccoughed through the rapid tears that were streaming down her face now. Her lips trembled as her hands found his shoulders, clutching two handfuls of his robes. “I d-don’t know,” she repeated. “But I want you, Rolan.”

He had just enough hope to take that as a yes.

Rolan folded Tav’s body into his own with near crushing force. He was now overwhelmingly grateful for their absurd position kneeling together on the cold stone of the balcony. It was unthinkable to have her anywhere but in his arms right now.

“Yes, by the way—” Tav’s voice was muffled against his shoulder, but her chest shook against him with unmistakable laughter now.

“I had plans,” Rolan answered against her hair, half to himself. “None of this is right, hells, I swear I had so many plans—”

“Hold on,” Tav replied in a trembling laugh. She pulled away gently, just enough to notch one hand under Rolan’s ear. Her face radiated joy despite the damp skin on her cheeks. “Rolan, what on earth could be wrong right now?”

Everything, he wanted to groan out. But he bit the word back.

Instead, Rolan ducked his head to fumble with the drawstrings of the leather bag fastened to his belt. Tav’s fingers dropped from his jaw as she watched on in silent curiosity.

He shook the open bag over his hand. With a tiny clink, two rings poured from it and out onto Rolan’s outstretched palm. Even on a moonless night, the metal seemed to glow from within with a silver-blue fire.

“Mithril,” Tav breathed in pure delight.

The observation was so unexpected, yet so thoroughly Tav, that Rolan let out a choked laugh.

She touched fingers to her lips. “How long have—when did you—?”

“The week you moved in,” Rolan answered. The way her eyes flicked up to his in pure adoration made Rolan’s heart swell in his chest, but he continued. “That’s when I gave Dammon the commission. Of course it took months to find a vein of it down in the Underdark, I nearly went mad, you have no i—”

The words were stopped up as Tav’s lips collided against his. Rolan’s fist closed over the twin metal bands just as his hand was trapped between their chests.

She kissed him so long and so hard that Rolan gasped for air a bit when she broke away.

“Do you like it?” Rolan asked, needing her answer more than his lungs needed air.

“You’re kidding me.” Tav blinked at him. “Rolan, if you don’t put that thing on my finger this fucking minute, I swear I might have to reconsider.”

He wasn’t about to chance it. Rolan slipped the band onto the finger of her outstretched hand without hesitation; it fit her perfectly. She followed suit, her hand shaking slightly with excitement as the ring slid down to his knuckle.

For a moment they just held opposite hands out beside each other in quiet admiration. Then Rolan linked his fingers with hers, pulling their palms together.

He supposed the rings were supposed to come after the vows, not before—but the sight of them on their interlocked fingers was too perfect to be wrong.

A moment later they helped each other back to their feet, both laughing at their stiff knees and the pins-and-needles in their legs.

Rolan felt giddy as a youth. He couldn't stop kissing her; his arms circled her firmly into him, his tail looping around and over her hips in a caress. As Rolan watched the pure happiness radiating from Tav’s face, his heart was the lightest it had ever been.

“Now what?” He asked eventually.

Tav sighed with contentment in his arms. “Whatever you want.”

“I want to take you to bed,” Rolan answered without hesitation. Words had grown tiresome; he could think of no better way to demonstrate exactly the strength of his feelings for her right now.

In response, she separated to tug his hand with both of hers back under the doorway.

“Then we’d better go,” she said, walking backwards so she could flash him a coy smile. “Because I want my fiancé to tell me about all those ways he didn't just propose.”

#rolan x tav #tav x rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #fem unnamed tav #sfw #in which tav holds rolan's face in her hands approx. 29 times #and rolan misunderstands everything #they are a mes #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #bg3 tieflings

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maddie7writes · 1 year ago

Text

EXS AND OHS

summary : y/n and harry are recently engaged, but in y/n’s line of work, she runs into lots of his exs and their not all happy for the couple

warnings : just bitter people

harry’s dating history wasn’t exactly a secret, but the list of exs would come to a hault, as the 50,000 dollar diamond sat on y/n’s ring finger with pride. but y/n wasn’t exactly a nobody, she had two vouge covers and three world tours under her belt along with opening and closing fashion week malin, paris, and new york, and not to mention several blockbuster movies.

she was kind of a big deal.

but in her line of work, she had lots of run ins with her loves exs, and they weren’t always pleasant.

—

y/n was booked for victorias secrets comeback show, and she was a nervous wreck. her strict diet made harry worried sick, and her coworkers were starting to worry y/n.

“and you’re sure you want to come? i understand if you don’t—.” “—y/n i love you. i’m goin’ to be at everything for the rest of your life. even if my ex is there.” he assured with a kiss to her forehead. she sighed, and a week later found herself in hair and makeup getting ready to strut out like she was on top of the world.

“make sure to flash that ring okay? it’s been on covers for the past month.” her agent said, as she stared down the poor hair and makeup crew. y/n heard a distant scoff in the background but she chose to ignore it. “i thought for the show it had to come off?” y/n asked, she didn’t exactly want to part with it but she didn’t want to break any rules. “not when the one who gave it to you is harry styles. trust me, the show will be memorable because of the ring.” her agent scoffed with a few taps to her phone then back to insane staring.

just then, the busty, perfectly thin blonde, with small bronze chrome wings came walking around in lingerie. “the reason he never proposed to me is because his taste in rings never met my standards.” camllie gossiped to a fresh faced girl, clearly new-ish to the modeling world. y/n rolled her eyes and kept her thoughts to her self.

when y/n got out of hair and makeup she was draped in gold lingerie with diamonds dripping from the bra. it was for their anniversary line, and the bralette would only be sold to select clientele. the matching panties were gold as the metal brushed the modesty garment she wore. then large gold wings were applied, weighing less then she has anticipated.

“she’ll open, then jenner and rowe will follow ten paces behind, wait at the top of the runway and walk back before them.” a manager explained to y/n and her agent. y/n nodded before being moved to were she was directed, greeting kendall with a smile and hug.

“i haven’t seen you in forever!” kendall smiled and embraced her, the two went on a brand trip together before she got engaged and at the start of her and harry’s relationship and ended up sipping on margaritas and gossiping on a yacht the whole time. privileged and elite? sure, but they had a great time.

“i know, we have to do a trip just us.” y/n smiled, kendall was already grabbing her hand to see the ring. “god! he’s always had good taste but y/n this is gorgeous.” she gasped and looked between the ring and y/n. camille scoffed beside her. “please, the diamond has a blue tint. i doubt it’s even real.” camille rolled her eyes.

“it’s tinted blue because he chose to not stain it. he went water mining when we were in bali, someone helped him find it, and he chose to not stain it.” y/n clarified, just like that the lights cut and ariana grandes unmistakable vocals of dangerous woman was heard, y/n was counted off and she strutted out.

—

y/n would definitely say her least favorite job was acting. there was so much drama in almost every romance movie she’s filmed, so when she was casted as gwen for the fourth spider-man movie to bring a love triangle into poor spider-man’s life, she was excited that it would be an action movie even if she was playing a love interest.

that was of course until she figured out who would be working on the movie with her.

olivia wilde.

y/n tried to remain professional, tho it was difficult with tom seeing as he was so giggly about everything, and zendya was laughing about how forced tom looked. everything was more natural with tom and zendya tho, so to switch between his girlfriend and his friend must have been weird for tom, so y/n tried to keep that in mind and remind her it wasn’t her fault the scenes weren’t working the way she wanted them to.

however one of the directors did not agree.

“y/n, can you step off set for a moment.” olivia’s voice sounded, tom looked confused as did y/n before she stepped off set as she was asked and followed oliva nervously.

“is there an issue?” y/n asked. oliva scoffed, “of course there is. this scene should have taken four takes, max. we have over forty of you and tom laughing. if you can’t play a love interest we will have to find someone who can.” she scolded, y/n was slightly offended.

two actors that have never worked together, taking on a role in a movie where they’re meant to be navigating love together, is not easy. and their first kissing scene might take a few try’s, but that’s not enough to threaten y/n’s contract over.

“unfortunately you might want to check the contract marvel signed, this is not cause for termination, and you cannot terminate my contract period. but if you would like to submit a claim that i am unable to preform my required task, i will happily take that battle with management. i really don’t want to waste anyone’s time so should i head back to set or?” y/n looked at oliva innocently with a smirk, brushing her hair back so her ring caught the light.

“watch you back, l/n.”

“styles. but close.”

safe to say y/n reported that threat and oliva wasn’t heard from again.

—

“you look absolutely divine.” harry came up behind her, kissing the exposed skin on her neck from her half slicked wave, old hollywood hairstyle. y/n laughed as she looked at them in the mirror. harry, in his colorful sparkly patch work jumpsuit, and her in her all black,

a-symmetrical neckline of the all black floor length dress she wore. their two personalities showing on their faces. she was so excited for tonight, she had a good feeling about harry’s changes of the trophy.

“you ready to sweep tonight?” she asked, he blushed. “don’t jinx me, the grammys don’t tend to like me.” he said in a hushed voice, y/n rolled her eyes and kissed her husbands cheek deeply. “not this year. i can feel it.”

her words ended up being true, with harry’s complete sweep. he was overcome with emotion, and y/n sat with him through all of it. holding his hand and even kissing him when he induced it, which was rare seeing as he hated pda especially when cameras were around.

they had plans to skip the after party and go get a pizza with the band and team, then go home and celebrate like old people with sleep. however their plans were put to a hault when taylor swift approached. y/n, ever the swiftie, was sure she was about to pass out as she squeezed her fiancés hand.

“congratulations harry.” she smiled and hugged him briefly before turning back to y/n. “and your performance was amazing, i had no idea your range was so good?” taylor said, y/n’s eyes went wide and she nodded. “oh yeah- yeah thanks.” she tried to laugh it off and leaned into harry’s comforting touch, he tried to hold back a laugh and taylor could tell.

“i have a few ideas and i want you to be a part of it, here’s my number— new number—.” she glanced at harry. “—and call me, so we can start scheming.” she winked at y/n, who was definitely dead. “congrats again harry.” she patted his shoulder before turning around and going to find her other friends.

“holy shit.” y/n whispered as she clutched taylor swifts number. harry chuckled and kissed her, “we can call her in the morning yeah? pizza and sleep okay?” he said, only to be welcomed with a large kiss and a i love you.

four months later, here y/n was, doing her one night only with taylor fucking swift.

harry was sitting in the 1989 friends and family box, with gigi, zayne, and their daughter as they caught up. gigi made sure to comment on how harry’s all access pass said ‘STYLE MUSE’ instead of harry styles.

the concert was perfect, everything was amazing. after all, taylor was considered the one of the best performers of all time. then as she stayed on stage after her two surprise songs, fans cheered even louder than usual.

“i actually have something i want to give you guys.” fans bracelets began flashing blue as screams could almost shatter the stadium, taylor laughed.

“i think you guys noticed i skipped style tonight.” she smirked, louder screams were heard and y/n stood backstage in her light blue wide legged pants, and white satin top. waiting nervously for her cue as they adjusted her headset and in ear microphone.

“i also want to throw in just one more surprise song, just for you guys!l she said excitedly, but didn’t wait for the crowd to quiet as she used the mic to talk over them. “please welcome miss y/n styles!” she screamed, and the stadium screamed back as the beat to style began to play.

harry recorded like a proud husband and sang along to every word as he watched y/n dance around on stage, in her element to a song he inspired.

“you got that long hair slick back white t-shirt.” both the girls flicked part of their hair over to imitate harry back in one direction, and ran a hand from their neck down to their pelvis as they sung, then tossed one shoulder and strutted down the diamond like models. which y/n was, harry thought to himself.

style passed, the loudest cheer in the whole room came from harry. so happy to see the woman he loved getting to work with her idol and be so happy doing it.

“i think there’s one more that goes to perfectly with us, don’t you think taylor?” y/n asked, fighting back the happy tears in her eyes. taylor bit back a smile and nodded, “what do you think Los Angeles?” she asked, they screamed. and the beat to i think he knows began to play.

the girls sang and danced along with the crowd, harry didn’t know this song very well so he was hyper focused on making sure to get all of y/n’s performance while also watching her.

“he’s got that boyish look that i like in a man.” y/n sung, and stopped dancing as she looked at taylor.

“i am an architect i’m drawing up the plans.” taylor copied the movements.

“he’s so obsessed with me and boy i understand.” y/n flipped her hair jokingly, making sure to flash the ring before both girls turned to face each other taylor grabbing y/n’s hand to look at the ring before screaming the line; “boy i understand!”

harry’s heart was skipping around 13th avenue.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #fluff #harry blurb #harry #famous!reader #harry styles x famous!reader

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ilguna · 5 months ago

Text

☼ NFWMB pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; you'll do anything to protect Finnick, you can't live without him. so when it comes to saving Katniss from the arena or leaving her behind to save him, you make the obvious choice.

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, weapon use, fighting, blood, fire, hunger games stuff.

wc; 6.2k

notes; this is not canon compliant!!

part one.

It’s easy to forget just how soul-sucking the Hunger Games can be when you haven’t been inside of an arena for nearly a decade. It’s different when you’re mentoring, because all you have to do is give your tribute advice, but trying to put it into action is a completely different scenario.

Some victors are incapable of moving past the trauma inflicted, like Annie or Chaff, who are both disabled because of it. While others had fairly smooth Games, and even look back on it without issue, like Brutus or even you. Which isn’t an easy feat to achieve, at least for you. You would never have chosen to come back in here if it weren’t for a cause. For Brutus, this really is just a game.

You won’t lie, you definitely came in with so much hope, thinking you would be able to change the way the Capitol treats you, but now it’s been pulled out of every inch of your body. It’s especially bad this time, considering you know these tributes—these people. A lot of them you’ve mentored with, you’ve taken care of tributes with, that you’re friends with.

It’s only every night, when you’re forced to see the faces in the sky, are you faced with the reality you’ve been hiding from. This is real. The casualties of this war are real. You’ll never get to see any of these people again. They’ll forever be in a casket in their home district. They will never know if their efforts helped to better Panem.

Yesterday, the victors you lost were: Cashmere, Wiress, Blight, the man from District Ten, the woman from District Five, and the morphling who jumped in front of the mutt to save Peeta.

Six dead.

The Games lost a pretty significant amount on the first day too. The ones remaining now are Gloss, Brutus, Enobaria, Chaff, Beetee, Johanna, Katniss, Peeta, Finnick and you. There are only three enemies now, and it’s the Careers. It would be nice to find Chaff before the end of tonight. There is no guarantee, considering how vastly large this arena is.

The faint sound of tinkling interrupts the early morning silence you’ve been sitting in, watching the sun slowly rise from behind the tall jungle trees. No one moves from where they’re sitting on the sand, letting the parachute tilt from side to side, before eventually landing in front of Finnick.

Katniss sits up to scoot closer to Peeta, rubbing the sand from her eyes. You keep an eye on them for a few moments while the bread is counted. When Finnick is sure of the amount, he quietly announces there’s another twenty-four rolls, and they’re from District Three. This brings the grand total to thirty-three.

You each take five, leaving eight left over.

It doesn’t take long for you to finish what you have. You steal glances at Katniss every so often, curious on what her expression is looking like, and it’s pretty grave. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, eyes wandering to the water. She’s thinking, and you’re afraid to know about what exactly.

Actually, it might be fairly easy to get inside of her head. At this point, the majority of the tributes left in the Games are part of the alliance you’re in. The only ones not part of it are obviously the Careers. This probably stresses her out, making her worried about how much longer it’s going to last, and if you’re going to turn on her soon.

It’s a good thing that the plan is to get out of the arena tonight, because she’s not going to stay for much longer. In fact, you wouldn’t put it past her if she tried to escape sometime today.

Katniss suddenly gets to her feet, reaching for Peeta’s hand. He gives it to her willingly, letting her pull him up. “Come on. I’ll teach you how to swim.” She says, pulling him to the water.

You keep an eye on them for a while, with Johanna seemingly doing the same. When you’re sure there’s nothing going on between them, you turn your body halfway away to give them some privacy. Johanna relaxes too, making a bed in the sand so she can take a nap, after losing so much sleep the first couple of days.

Finnick gets up to gather a good armful of vines, then he takes a seat next to you. Once he begins to weave the net, you lean into him, head on his shoulder. You watch his hands move, noticing how clear it is that he’s done this many times before. He moves with confidence, tying knots that are hard to undo. You hum softly while he works.

“I miss laying in our bed together.” Finnick murmurs. “The lazy days we would take and then feel guilty for.”

“There’s always so much work to be done.” You sigh.

“Soon there won’t be any.” He whispers. “Once this is all over.”

You lift your head, reaching over to guide his lips to yours, thumb rubbing his jaw. He kisses you gently, keeping you there for only a couple of seconds before pulling away. You admire his eyes, a smile peeking at the corners of your mouth.

“I love you.” You tell him.

“I love you more.”

“I don’t think so.” You laugh, looking away.

You catch Katniss standing up in the water, waving her arm. “Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figured out how to make you pretty again!”

He lets out a noise, which dissolves into a laugh. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before getting up, following them into the water. You watch as they gather handfuls of sand, rubbing it against their scabs so that they fall away. They take their time, being sure to get every one of them, including on their backs. When they’re done, they come back onto the sand to apply another layer of the medicine, joining you shortly after.

Beetee clears his throat. “I think we’ll all agree our next job is to kill gloss, Brutus and Enobaria.” He says. “I doubt they’ll attack us openly again, now that they’re so outnumbered. We could track them down, I supposed, but it’s dangerous, exhausting work.”

“Do you think they’ve figured out about the clock?” Katniss asks.

“If they haven’t, they’ll figure it out soon enough.” You tell her, shaking your head. “They’re smart, you should’ve seen their strategies in the past.”

“I got an idea of it.” Katniss nods.

“Perhaps not as specifically as we have.” Beetee says somewhat hopefully. “But they must know that at least some of the zones are wired for attacks and that they’re reoccurring in a circular fashion. Also, the fact that our last fight was cut off by Gamemaker intervention will not have gone unnoticed by them. We know it was an attempt to disorient us, but they must be asking themselves why it was done, and this, too, may lead them to the realization that the arena’s a clock.” Beetee tells you. “So I think our best bet will be setting our own trap.”

“Wait, let me get Johanna up.” Finnick says, taking a step away. “She’ll be rabid if she thinks she missed something this important.”

“Or not.” Katniss mutters quietly, you give her a small smile. You can’t blame her.

Once Johanna is up and awake enough to comprehend Beetee’s babble, the plan continues. Only, he has you scoot back a few feet in the sand so he has room to work it out in front of you. He effortlessly draws a circle, dividing it into twelve wedges. It’s obviously a map of the arena, just not as nicely drawn as the ones that Peeta have been making.

“If you were the Careers, knowing what you do now about the jungle, where would you feel safest?” He asks.

You withhold a sigh that threatens to release. You’ve worked with Beetee—and Wiress—a few times in the past to collaborate for the sake of your tributes. It’s funny how the technology tributes and the water tributes attract to each other like magnets sometimes. You don’t mind it when they explore outside of the Career pack, you even encourage it if they feel like they can do more.

However, that means you have to deal with the Three mentors. Which isn’t inherently bad, but you can’t stand the way that Beetee talks to people when he thinks they won’t understand a plan straight-forwardly. He will give you all the pieces to put together, and then he’ll tell you what he’s come up with. And Wiress wasn’t much of a help in these situations, because her sentences would drop off and she’d dissolve into laughter. Like they have their own joke about treating other victors less than.

It’s part of the reason why everyone groaned when Katniss decided she wanted Beetee and Wiress in her alliance. But they were going to be a vital asset either way. Even if she didn’t want them, Haymitch and Plutarch would’ve organized it so they agreed.

“Where we are now. On the beach.” Peeta answers Beetee. “It’s the safest place.”

“So why aren’t they on the beach?” He asks.

“Because we’re here.” Johanna says impatiently.

“Exactly. We’re here, claiming the beach. Now where would you go?”

Katniss’s eyes drift to the jungle. “I’d hide just at the edge of the jungle. So I could escape if an attack came. And so I could spy on us.”

“Also to eat.” Finnick chimes in. “The jungle’s full of strange creatures and plants. But by watching us, I’d know the seafood’s safe.”

Beetee smiles, like he always does when he’s satisfied his tests worked out. “Yes, good. You do see.” He says, you press your lips together in annoyance. As if all of you aren’t part of a bigger plan to take down President Snow. “Now here’s what I propose: a twelve o’clock strike. What happens exactly at noon and at midnight?”

“The lightning bolt hits the tree.” Katniss says.

“Yes. So what I’m suggesting is that after the bolt hits at noon, but before it hits at midnight, we run my wire from that tree all the way down into the saltwater, which is, of course, highly conductive. When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the ten o’clock wave. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that moment will be electrocuted.”

That’s not complicated at all, you think. There’s a bit of silence that follows, though, as they properly digest this plan, weighing the pros and cons themselves. No matter what happens, Katniss will be protected, you’re here to make sure of it. Even if all else fails, you’re supposed to prioritize getting her to the end.

You’re not worried, though. You, Finnick and Katniss will get out of here, at least. The others will follow.

“Will that wire really be able to conduct that much power, Beetee?” Peeta asks after a minute. “It looks so fragile, like it would just burn up.”

“Oh, it will. But not until the current has passed through it. It will act something like a fuse, in fact. Except the electricity will travel along it.”

“How do you know?” Johanna asks.

“Because I invented it.” Beetee says to her, as if it’s obvious. As if he’s not the type of guy to risk his life by running into the Cornucopia on the first day of the Games for some random wire. “It’s not actually wire in the usual sense. Nor is the lightning natural lightning nor the tree a real tree. You know trees better than any of us, Johanna. It would be destroyed by now, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.” She answers reluctantly.

“Don’t worry about the wire—it will do just what I say.”

“And where will we be when this happens?” Finnick asks.

“Far enough up in the jungle to be safe.”

“The Careers will be safe, too, then, unless they’re in the vicinity of the water.” Katniss points out.

“That’s right.” Beetee agrees.

“But all the seafood will be cooked.” Peeta says.

“Probably more than cooked.” Beetee nods. “We will most likely be eliminating that as a food source for good. But you found other edible things in the jungle, right, Katniss?”

“Yes. Nuts and rats.” She says. “And sponsors.”

“Well, then. I don’t see that as a problem.” He shrugs. “But as we are allies and this will require all our efforts, the decision of whether or not to attempt it is up to you five.”

Well, really it’s up to Katniss and Peeta. You, Johanna and Finnick should be on board already. Either this is a real plan that Beetee has set up to make sure you’re at the tree at midnight, or he genuinely believes that this is the best way to get rid of Gloss, Brutus and Enobaria. Or both. Regardless, you have no choice but to follow his guidance.

Katniss looks between everyone in the group, eyes landing on you. You give her a small encouraging nod, a push in the right direction. You won’t be in the arena past midnight, there is no reason to preserve the seafood.

Katniss must trust your judgment. “Why not?” She asks, looking at Beetee. “If it fails, there’s no harm done. If it works, there’s a decent chance we’ll kill them. And even if we don’t and just kill the seafood, Gloss, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too.”

“I say we try it.” Peeta agrees. “Katniss is right.”

Finnick looks between you and Johanna, raising his eyebrows. “All right.” She says. “It’s better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they’ll figure out our plan, since we can barely understand it ourselves.”

You almost laugh at that last remark.

Beetee declares that he wants to take a closer look at the lightning tree before he has to mess with it tonight. Katniss observes the sun, saying that it has to be about nine in the morning, meaning you’re going to have to leave in an hour when the wave comes. So, it’s better to go now.

Peeta brings you to the beach that borders the lightning section. He and Finnick briefly discuss what to do with Beetee, because he’s still recovering from the cut on his back. Finnick suggests taking turns carrying him, and Peeta agrees, despite the fact that he’s not running at full power, either. He’s still weak from the forcefield on the first day, and he’s got a prosthetic leg.

Johanna leads the way because it’s a straight path to the tree, with Finnick, Peeta and Beetee following directly behind her. Katniss insists on taking the rear because she has the arrows, so you keep in front of her. You just watch the jungle carefully on the way up, in case there’s spying eyes on the trees.

The journey to the top of the slope is irritating. You get your foot caught in several tangles of weeds, wiping an ocean of sweat from your skin every couple of minutes, and you can feel the burn beginning on the top of your thighs from the constant stepping. Not to mention, the air is so thick and hard to breathe with how hot it is here. You’d think it'd be cooler because of the canopy of leaves above, but the beach is better because of the breeze from the water.

“We’re almost at the top.” Johanna tells you after about a half hour.

“She should take the lead, then.” Finnick suggests through heavy breaths, pace slowing to allow a break. “Katniss can hear the force field.”

Beetee’s eyes narrow, turning his head to look back at Katniss. You move out of the way to allow a clearer sight. “Hear it?” His voice is skeptical.

“Only with the ear the Capitol reconstructed.” She explains.

He slowly nods. “Then by all means, let Katniss go first.” He pulls the glasses from his face to wipe the steam away. “Force fields are nothing to play around with.”

She nods, passing you to go to the front. Finnick looks to you to make sure that you’re okay being back there, and you give him a smile. The hike continues for about another ten minutes, but you can see the lightning tree way before that. It’s unmistakable compared to the others that surround it.

Katniss gathers a handful of nuts to use to confirm where the force field is. She stops suddenly, tossing a nut. The group of you watch as it bounces off what appeared to be a fern. If you had to guess, she’s about fifteen yards away from it.

“Justy stay below the lightning tree.” Katniss tells you.

Duties are quickly divided up by Beetee. Finnick is told to guard him while he takes a look at the tree. Johanna goes to tap for water, because you’re all thirsty after the way up here. Peeta goes ahead to gather nuts to sizzle, and Katniss disappears into the jungle to hunt for the tree rats.

You keep close to the tree, patrolling around it, while Finnick stays where he is next to Beetee. Who is currently taking laps, peeling off bark, measuring with his hands. It’s mildly amusing to listen to his mumbling nonsense. You really can’t stand being around him for longer than an hour at a time, especially when he’s doing that.

Luckily, the ten o’clock wave shakes the ground, letting you know a little more than an hour has passed since getting to the tree, since the wave signifies the end of the hour. Katniss shows up soon after with her tree rat, taking a seat next to Peeta. She draws a line in the dirt to separate her and the force field, and then goes on to clean her kill, cube the leftover meat, and then sears it by throwing it at the force field. Peeta follows her example by roasting the nuts one at a time. They start a pile of food on a large leaf.

Beetee peels another piece of bark from the tree, wandering over to Katniss and Peeta, only to throw it at the force field. It bounces off, landing in the dirt, glowing a bright orange color. It takes a few seconds for it to return to its normal color. And when it does, he murmurs, “Well, that explains a lot.”

A clicking interrupts his thoughts, he raises his head. The group of you fall into silence to hear where it’s coming from. It’s almost musical, and it sounds like it’s in the second next to you. It seems as if you weren’t crazy last night, you were hearing correctly. Johanna swore up and down that she couldn’t hear it. Now, she has no choice.

“It’s not mechanical.” Beetee tells you.

“I’d guess insects.” Katniss murmurs. “Maybe beetles.”

“Something with pincers.” Finnick nods.

The beetles get louder, excited by the sound of your voices.

“We should get out of here, anyway.” Johanna says. “There’s less than an hour before the lightning starts.

The group of you don’t go very far, only to the identical tree in the next section over. You gather around the large leaf in a squat, eating the nuts and meat in turns until there’s nothing left. You’re not exactly full after, but that doesn’t stop you from sitting on the ground and leaning against a tree to rest.

As soon as the air starts to show signs that it’s getting staticy, Beetee asks Katniss to climb up one of the jungle trees to check out the first couple of lightning strikes. She does this without issue, staying for a couple of minutes to observe, before coming down the branches. When she describes the brilliant blue the tree turns with every bolt, Beetee nods thoughtfully. He thanks her for her help, and then it’s suggested to go down to the beach to wait out the next eight hours.

—

The anthem plays, but since there were no deaths during the day, there are no faces to show in the sky. Panem is undoubtedly on the edge of their seat. The people back home in the districts have their fingers crossed that there are no significant casualties of their beloved victors. And the Capitol will hardly be able to contain their excitement for the bloodshed to come.

Unfortunately for them, the only blood that will spill tonight will be of their favorite Career victors. The plan is to kill Gloss, Brutus and Enobaria, and for the rest of you to make it out of the arena alive. The more time ticks on, the more you’re sure this plan will go without a hitch.

When Katniss and Finnick are sure that it’s about nine, you leave camp, which is now littered with shells from this evening's lunch. You hike up the twelve sector’s jungle in the same formation you had earlier. Beetee’s feeling somewhat better, so he’s able to carry himself up the first half of the way before he needs help from the other two boys.

At the tree, Beetee asks Finnick to help him, while the rest of you guard them. He starts by unrolling several yards of the wire, making a pile to the side. He then goes on to order Finnick to tie the loose end around a broken branch, and then leave it on the ground. Next, they stand on opposite sides of the tree, passing the spool back and forth.

Over time, you can see it begin to layer, shimmering gold in the moonlight.

You know what time it is when the wave hits, shaking the ground. Beetee announces that he’s done with the tree, which means that it’s time to carry out the second half of the plan. He tells Johanna and Katniss that he wants them to take the coil down to the beach, slowly unraveling it as they go.

Beetee tells them it’s really important for them to lay some wire across the lightning beach, and to get rid of the spool deep in the water, so that it’s impossible to retrieve. Once it sinks, they have to run for the jungle to take cover. If they leave now, they should be able to make it to safety.

“I want to go with them as a guard.” Peeta barely lets Beetee finish before he talks, shaking his head.

“You’re too slow. Besides, I’ll need you on this end. Katniss will guard.” Beetee tells him. “There’s no time to debate this. I’m sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now.” He hands the coil over to Johanna.

“I would feel better if (Y/n) went with them, at least.” Peeta says, looking at you next.

There’s an issue with that. While you’re supposed to guard Katniss at all costs, it was decided before the Games that Johanna would be the one to take care of the tracker in Katniss’s arm. Since Katniss trusts you, and she’s not the greatest fan of Johanna, it was Haymitch’s idea to make Johanna do it.

In the case that Johanna died, then you would do it. But you also have another prominent problem, and that’s the Careers. Johanna is a fantastic fighter, she’s incredibly vicious, but she doesn’t have the practice or stamina to fight three Careers at once, if the occasion were to arise. It was impossible to predict only one of them would die before it was time to be rescued. You were all hoping that none of them would try to get in your way, but the Gamemakers really screwed things when they gave Katniss and Peeta high training scores.

So, you can’t go with them. Johanna will protect Katniss and get the tracker out of her arm. Finnick will protect Peeta and keep him occupied at the tree. Beetee will make sure that the tree works the way it’s supposed to. And you will either lead the Careers to the beach to get electrocuted, or you’ll stalk them and kill them one by one. Whichever is more convenient.

“I can’t.” You tell Peeta plainly. “I’ll be here with you. Johanna is more than capable of keeping your girlfriend safe. Let them go or we’ll have to come up with another idea.”

Katniss nods, motioning for Peeta to go to her. “It’s okay.” She tells him. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”

“Not into the lightning zone.” Beetee reminds her. “Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o’clock sector. If you find you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage.”

Katniss cups Peeta’s face in her palms. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” She presses a kiss to his lips, and then turns to Johanna. “Ready?”

“Why not?” Johanna shrugs, beginning to head down the slope. “You guard, I’ll unwind. We can trade off later.”

The four of you watch as they disappear into the trees, taking the wire with them. It’s rigid, suspended in the air. You stand there for a couple of seconds before turning away, wandering, patrolling. Nothing is said between you guys, but it’s clear that Peeta’s unhappy by the way the tension just rolls off of him.

You hum quietly, swinging your spear in your hand, waiting for the arena to tell you what time it is. You share glances with Finnick, mostly because you can feel his anxiety about the situation, too. Between him and Peeta, your muscles begin to lock up, your moves becoming more rigid.

There’s no reason to be worried. Johanna will bring Katniss down to the water, they’ll deposit the wire. In the jungle, Johanna will remove her tracker, by then the Careers should be dead. Katniss should chase her all the way up the blood rain section, where the four of you will be waiting, and then you’ll get taken out of the arena.

Or something along those lines.

The sound of clicking begins, you pause your movements to look in the direction of where the beetles will be. SInce time isn’t exactly clear here, it could be eleven on the dot, or a quarter of the time after. Either way, hopefully they’re pretty far down the slope, they don’t have much time.

You let out a sigh, beginning to turn back in the direction of the wire, when it snaps. A metallic sound fills the air, making you wince. You watch one of the ends fly toward the tree, bunching up into curls before laying on the ground. Unmoving.

That’s bad, you think. This is about to get really, really bad.

You open your mouth to speak, thinking maybe you can convince Peeta not to run away just yet. Katniss and Johanna will come right back to you, since the plan is obviously a bust, and you’ll need to come up with something different. But a shadow in your peripheral stops you. A large shadow.

You draw your arm back, launching the spear in the direction of the threat before you can stop to think about it. Finnick lets out a choked noise behind you, maybe to tell you to wait a second, but it’s too late. It’s gone into the jungle.

A surprised yelp comes from the area, you jerk forward to attack, pulling a knife out of your belt, holding it at your side. You stop flat in your tracks when Brutus emerges from the treeline, shadows hiding half of his face, making him appear sinister.

“Brutus!” You shout to the boys, stealing a glance over your shoulder.

Gloss is coming out of the other side, sword in his hand. Peeta and Finnick show their own weapons, a machete and a trident. You can barely see Beetee out of the corner of your eye, and he’s inching closer to the force field.

“Beetee, stay away from there!” You tell him, turning back to Brutus.

He’s closer now, you swing at him, he dodges. It goes back and forth like this, with him gaining on you. The boys are easily fighting off Gloss, they have the upper hand. You would have some even ground with Brutus, if you hadn’t thrown your spear. If you had waited half a second more, he’d probably be dead.

Brutus is twice your size, it doesn’t take long before he’s basically on top of you. No matter how close your blade gets to his body, he’s good at dodging. A heavy feeling starts to weigh in your chest, because you know you’re going to lose this fight without help.

A canon blasts, making your next stab weak. Brutus easily grabs your wrist, twisting it harshly. You hiss through your teeth, grimacing at the pain. You try to punch Brutus with your other hand, but Brutus just smiles. His hand covers yours entirely, making it impossible to get away.

“Peeta, no!” Finnick shouts. “Stop!”

“Finnick—!” Your voice is shrill, Brutus is beginning to squeeze, cutting off circulation.

Beetee appears from behind Brutus, the branch wrapped with wire in his hand. He manages to throw it around the Career’s neck, before throwing his entire body back. Brutus lets go at once, going with Beetee to avoid being garrotted. You stoop to the ground to retrieve your knife, taking a steep jump onto Brutus, when he kicks you square in the chest.

You fly for a second, and when you land, it’s on your back. The air is stolen from your lungs. You struggle to suck in a full breath, a deep ache beginning. You try to speak, but all you can manage is a moan, eyes closed.

Another canon.

“(Y/n)!” Finnick shouts. “Breathe!”

A hand touches your face.

“Help!” Beetee chokes out.

Your eyes pop open as you twist in the dirt, finally being able to breathe. You find Gloss dead in the dirt, three puncture wounds across his chest. On the other side is Brutus, who’s slowly crushing Beetee beneath him.

Finnick pulls you to your feet, together, the two of you attack Brutus, which is easier said than done. It doesn’t matter if he’s on the ground or standing, because he manages to hold the both of you off. You have your knife, Finnick has his trident, and Brutus has his strength alone.

Beetee is practically useless, he only recently started feeling better, and now he’s out again.

You don’t know how long you fight for, how many times you get Brutus into a vulnerable position, how many times he gets out of it. It’s a frustrating process, building up inside of you. You’re about to take a risky move, but Finnick beats you to it, losing the trident in the process, getting his hand smashed and broken before Brutus punches him across the face.

Finnick collapses in a heap on the ground.

The sound of clicking is getting quieter. You swipe at Brutus, trying to catch him in a pattern so that you can counter it. He’s so precise about his punches, so much weight thrown behind them. You’re surely going to have bruises covering your body. Your arm, your legs, your face, your torso, your wrist.

“Fuck!” Brutus suddenly shouts, a red stripe begins to come alive across his chest.

Blood.

Like an animal, triggered by the sight, the whole rest of the world gets dark as you pounce on Brutus. In the matter of seconds, you have him torn apart, your own skin covered in his blood. When the canon finally blasts, when he’s finally dead, the hair on your arms stands straight up.

“(Y/n), get away!” Johanna’s voice cuts through the air.

In the next second, there’s an electric zap! You’re thrown away from Brutus’s body, stumbling toward a tree. You land on your hands and knees, an unfamiliar energy coursing through your body.

When you blink, the arena goes dark. You throw your head back, watching as the hexagon’s that make up the force field begin to go dark, revealing that the arena is only a projection made by the Gamemakers. The black spreads across the dome, taking away the moonlight, too.

The next thing you know, the sky is falling and the jungle is on fire.

“Finnick?” You call, pulling yourself to your feet.

You face the lightning tree, and your eyes are able to lock in a few faces, but not all of them. Beetee has been completely singed, the wire that had been wrapped around the tree is now completely gone, which means he went about the wire in a different way. Maybe he blew the fuse when the lightning struck?

You find Johanna and Peeta nearby, unconscious in the dirt. You spin in circles, eyes searching the area around, desperate to find your boyfriend. You need to make sure that he gets on that hovercraft. He’s more important than anyone here. He needs to survive.

Finnick is closer than you thought, lying face down. You flip him over, dropping to your knees to feel for a pulse. When you find his heart beating strong and steadily, you move to Johanna and Peeta. They, too, are alive.

Right as you begin to drag them to line up with Finnick, a familiar voice is shouting from somewhere close in the jungle. You almost drop Johanna’s ankles to go search for her, remembering that it’s your job to save her over everyone else.

How much time? You wonder, looking up to the opening in the dome, which has now revealed a bright blue sky beyond it. The claw belonging to a hovercraft is coming down, answering your question. There is no time. They’ll only be able to grab a couple of you before it's too late and they’re caught by the Capitol.

Plutarch’s following your tracker location. If you begin to follow Katniss’s voice, that means they’ll abandon the victors you have here. Peeta, Johanna, Beetee and Finnick will be left behind. You and her will be saved. You can’t go chasing after her.

“Katniss, quick!” You shout to her. “Peeta’s here! He needs you!”

You tug at Johanna one last time before dropping her legs. Right as you step away, the claw wraps around Finnick and Johanna’s bodies, beginning to pull them to the sky. When they see that it’s not their beloved Mockingjay, they’ll send another claw down. You can get them to take Peeta, at least. Beetee’s too far to drag.

“(Y/n)! Peeta!”

“Katniss, run!” You move on to Peeta, straightening him out, making him an easier target to grab.

The claw reaches the hovercraft, and it’s immediately sent back down. Katniss isn’t here yet, meaning she’s moving too slowly or she’s too far away to make it. You can’t start towards her now. They’ve got the claw in motion.

“Shit.” You shake your head, Beetee groans quietly, telling you he’s alive. But who knows how much damage was done from the force field? “Katniss, you need to run!”

It doesn’t matter. The claw comes down, positioned over you and Peeta. You take a seat, letting the claw clasp beneath you before beginning to pull you up. You close your eyes, shaking your head. They’re going to be pissed when you get up there. They don’t have much time.

The jungle burns a bright orange and red beneath you, black smoke billowing in the air. You can see a speck run into the clearing around the tree, and you know that it’s Katniss, coming too late. The claw pulls you inside of the hovercraft, and the trap doors close, making solid ground.

“Where’s Katniss?” A voice demands, you slide off of one of the claw teeth, looking over to see Plutarch. “Why is Peeta here? The deal was to get Katniss.”

“She wasn’t at the tree.” You tell them with a slight head shake. “Beetee’s down there, too.”

“Katniss is the Mockingjay.” Plutarch says, as if it isn’t obvious. “Your priority was to make sure she got out of the arena.”

“I know, but she wasn’t at the tree. Everyone else was there except for her. Even Johanna made it.” You motion to the ground. “Can’t you go one more time?”

“No, the Capitol is right behind us.” Plutarch closes his eyes, letting out an angry sigh. “This is not how this was supposed to go. What are we going to do with the boy?”

“I don’t know, Plutarch.” You move away from the claw. “But I did what I could.”

You got Finnick out of the arena, that’s what matters most to you. While you would’ve taken Katniss had she gotten there in time, she wasn’t. She was too far away to get to. Did they really want you to take one girl over three other people? It makes no sense.

They’ll just have to figure it out. You did your best. You made a judgment call.

“President Coin will want to talk to you when we get to District Thirteen.” Plutarch tells you, you pause in the doorway, looking over your shoulder.

“And I’ll stand by what I did.”

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sicklyseraphnsuch · 1 year ago

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The Duality of Simon (or the Importance of Marcy)

Travel back to the early 2010s, when Adventure Time was still a fairly new thing. The fandom was growing, the theories were flowing. We've had confirmation that Ooo is in fact a post appcalyptic world. And then we get:

Here was living, breathing proof of the intersection between Ooo and our world. Simon Petrikov was a literal connection to the past, and moreover one of the ways Adventure Time really began to develop its inner tragedies.

But honestly, as sad as the Idea of Simon Petrikov was - it remained that he was a relic, an inert tragedy that was a connection to the past, but not necessarily connected to the future.

Enter:

You can mourn the losses of ages past. But it won't necessarily move you to act. Because there's nothing to compel you. You can stand to gain something but it's more important that you don't lose anything by keeping the status quo. In short, there weren't any stakes.

No, not those kind of Stakes... Well... maybe a little

So, bear in mind, Betty won't make her debut until two seasons after "Holly Jolly Secrets". To us, she was a non-entity. Simon's grief over her loss was for the audience, a mostly intellectual exercise. How sad for this poor cursed man to lose the woman he loved - replacing all proper nouns with common nouns because we didn't know Simon either. But his situation is clearly sad, just in a general, unspecific way. Because again, there's nothing at stake here.

Marcy drives thoses stakes up (and into our hearts). Suddenly, Simon becomes Very Very Real because we know Marcy. We've hung out with her for at least five seasons now leading up to the game changing "I Remember You".

By connecting Marcy to this Simon, suddenly we had something to lose - suddenly we already lost something. Marcy gave Simon's curse weight - dimension - texture - rendering it very real instead of a mere intellectual tragedy. Simon matters because he matters to someone here and now, because someone was still crying over him. And we love Marcy. We don't want her to cry.

It was through the Marcy and Simon relationship that we came to learn of and love Simon. Betty came later. Betty came after. We already loved Simon by then so learning of his love story was just building on that love. Naturally, being invested in the Simon and Betty relationship without prior connection to Simon is possible. But the fact that he was already established and endeared to the audience goes a way into investing in the Simon and Betty relationship.

So we get to Fionna and Cake.

We get exactly one scene with the Marcy we know and love. And Simon isn't even in the same room as her.

And the show is fully justified in doing so because Fionna and Cake was a series about Simon and Betty. And Simon and Marcy have little to do with that A story (the love plotline). Even if the B story (the recovery plotline) does pay homage to Simon and Marcy by showing Simon that he does have value, the homage amounts to only a few scenes (maybe cumulatively three minutes of screen time) in the whole series.

However, Simon and Marcy's relationship wasn't just to show that Simon is an integral component to the way Ooo came to be, and his impact on the people he loves. Simon and Marcy's relationship is integral to how we came to love Simon - against all odds and all tenets of common sense, a man that was slowly warped by madness chose to take care of a completely unknown little girl that he found in the wreckage of the world.

The problem here is that Marcy's Simon and Betty's Simon never got to meet in the middle. A lot of this is rooted in the original Adventure Time series where Betty and Marceline never speak more than ten words to each other.

Literally the only time they share the screen (and no I'm not counting Betty bot in Broke his Crown)

Which is BANANAS considering they are literally the two most important people in Simon's life.

And listen, again, by Fionna and Cake, we are invested in Simon and Betty, especially after what she did during the finale. We want to know about them.

And again, the Fionna and Cake series is well and wholly complete without ever having Simon and Marcy talk.

But it leaves a little ache. Because again, the first opportunity to truly love and connect with Simon came through Simon and Marcy. And we never really know how they get on now that they're back together. We seriously have maybe 10 lines of conversation between them since the finale and this includes Obsidian.

Literally, he says hi to Marcy twice and that's it. Very meaningful conversation.

Aaaand there's also the supreme irony where in one relationship, Simon never gets a chance to contribute equally, and in his other relationship, Simon wore himself down to nubs giving all that he had. But this duality within Simon is never really connected. There is a throughline here, his impulse for self sacrifice shares a root for his self centered perspective that blinded him to Betty's self effacing habits.

Now here's the thing, Fionna and Cake also built its conflict around Simon's identity and his self worth, etc. Yet it doesn't really contend with all that Simon has done without Betty, and before Ice King. By centering the narrative on only how he was with Betty (both pre and post Mushroom War), we get very little foundation laid out for what he could do after he says goodbye to her.

And this isn't a mistake because again, the series stands on its own just fine. The story works without it because at least that central relationship of Simon and Betty is fully established. But it does come at the cost of a missed opportunity to fully explore the cause of Simon's myopia, or how living through an apocalypse could reinforce that myopia because Simon keeps romanticizing "when his life was great".

Finally, the other downside is that Fionna and Cake stands on its own, maybe a little too much. It's still based on the characters of Adventure Time, building on the love for the original show. So it would have been a crowd pleaser, shall we say some fan service, to get more of what the original show worked hard to make us love.

#adventure time #fionna and cake #simon petrikov #marceline abadeer #marceline the vampire queen #betty grof

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writerpeach · 2 years ago

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Never Safe For Work

Dreamcatcher Gahyeon x m!reader

word count: 14k

The long-awaited return to the Dreamcatcher Office series

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

Universally, it went without saying that nobody in their right mind liked Mondays, for obvious reasons. But Tuesdays? Those were the real fucker.

The beginning of the work week always started the same way. Monday mornings were nothing but meetings, meetings, and more meetings. So that meant Tuesdays were not just four days left to endure, but time spent dealing with the aftermath from those endless hours of time spent discussing problems, budgets, and other mundane matters—time that could have easily been spent working on more crucial responsibilities.

Each hour passed felt longer than the previous one. Every minute dragged on as if it would never end.

Early morning hours were the most troublesome part of the day to get through, weighed down by never-ending tasks daunting for an entire team, let alone one person. Not that the rest of the week’s schedule wouldn’t be any better, always filled, with the following day more hectic than the last one.

While the weekend seemed so out of reach, somehow you mustered up the energy to tackle your responsibilities, but even the simplest task felt difficult to do before your regularly scheduled trip to the vending machine and a refill of coffee. Equipped with a hot mug, alongside your second headache of the day, you sorted through dozens of emails about new projects from your bosses, other clients, and business partners. And just when you finished one task, another would be assigned to you, another plate to spin, another fire to put out.

Despite how early it was, you needed a break—caffeine wasn’t doing its job properly, so maybe you needed an extra dose, a shot of espresso from the fancy machine in the break room that you never touched for fear of breaking it. But before you could even get out of your chair, before you could stretch your arms, a loud knock at the door interrupted your countless thoughts.

Great.

Almost nothing good came from a knock at the door before noon. Usually, your superiors would call your office when they needed something, but when they needed to show up in person—that was when you were doomed. So, with dreadful anticipation as to which boss would further ruin your day, you waited for the door to open, half expecting flames to appear on the other side.

But when the door creaked open and the figure standing in the doorway did not sport a pair of devil horns, you let out an enormous sigh of relief that it was only your assistant, Gahyeon. It wasn’t that she didn’t cause problems of her own, yet at least she wasn’t here to chastise you about an impending deadline or shove a brand new project to your already massive pile of work.

"Good morning, boss,” Gahyeon said as she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, her mouth twisted into a less than genuine smile.

“You look pretty busy.” Nothing she could have said would be more obvious other than calling water wet. With a heavy sigh, you glared at her and tried to keep your annoyance in check. Given the evident stack of documents on your desk, you couldn’t afford to waste any time today.

"You’re late, Gahyeon. Once again. It’s half past ten, and you were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”

Upon entering the office, Gahyeon shrugged without a care in the world, but at least had the courtesy to shut the door so you could reprimand her in private. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

That annoying smirk on her face made it even worse. You wouldn’t have been so annoyed with her if she hadn’t done this during one of the busiest weeks of the year. Nearly three months had gone by since you promoted Gahyeon to fulltime and made her your personal assistant. Essentially, it was the same job but with increased responsibilities and higher expectations, but you were beginning to regret it when she fell back on old habits.

“Well, I’ve done all the heavy lifting already since you couldn’t bother to show up when I actually needed you. There’s not much left to do right now. Go get some coffee or something.”

“But I don’t like coffee…” Gahyeon pouted, always finding an excuse to fight back against even the smallest command.

With the last of your worn patience razor-thin, you resisted the urge to snap at her while rolling your eyes practically out of your head. There was little you wanted to deal with right now, but if she was here, then you’d find some purpose for her. "Then go get something else to drink, Gahyeon. Just be back here within five minutes."

As Gahyeon left the room, you took a deep breath and rubbed your temple. Having such an unreliable assistant just added more stress, especially when she often had to be micromanaged at every moment. Your one hope would be that Gahyeon took her new position more seriously and became a valuable asset to the team, rather than a hindrance. The last thing you needed was someone to babysit.

Trying to put a dent in your many, many emails, Gahyeon returned with a bottle of fruit juice in hand, plopped down in a chair in front of your desk and took a sip, an unnerving smile etched on her smug features. She wiped her mouth, leaving a lipstick stain on the bottle as she placed it on your desk.

"You look like you could use a break, boss," she said in her usual cocky tone. Again—nothing had been more obvious.

“I could always use a break,” you replied, raising an eyebrow while you looked up from your monitor. “But that’s not a luxury we have. There’s a lot of work to be done, and not enough time to do it.”

Growing more frustrated, you looked back at your monitor, then back at Gahyeon, who hadn't moved aside from continuing to sip her fruit juice. You took a good look at her—with everything going on, her outfit hadn’t caught your attention until now. When Gahyeon was an intern, you would typically ignore it as long as her attire didn't deviate too far from the office dress code, but now that she held a place on your team, there was an expectation to dress more professional. However, every day she showed up she seemed to wear something that the higher-ups would consider wildly inappropriate.

“Gahyeon, what have I told you about your work attire?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Gahyeon looked down at her outfit, puzzled as if she wasn’t wearing anything out of the ordinary. Which, if it were up to you, would be fine—but even if you didn’t make the rules, it was your responsibility to make sure that everyone who worked underneath you followed them.

“Do I really need to answer that? A skull tie, ripped stockings, and those boots? This is a professional environment, Gahyeon,” you said, letting your frustrations all out. “And you’re expected to dress as such. You’re not that clueless intern anymore, you’ve moved up. You represent this company now, so when I ask tasks to be run and our clients show up and see you like that—”

“But I like the way it looks…I like being comfortable.”

Like always, Gahyeon missed the point, and you could feel the throbbing ache in your temple again.

“Gahyeon, do you think I like wearing these stuffy collared shirts? Or these boring, constricting ties? No, I hate them, but I deal with it.”

Before continuing, you let out a deep breath. “I don’t ask for much. Just that you show up on time and wear work-appropriate clothing. Yet you’ve failed to do both today. When I decided to hire you, it was because you promised me that you would take this position seriously, but if you won’t—then I can easily find somebody else who will.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down, boss. Tomorrow, I’ll wear one of your ugly little ties. And high heels. I promise.”

“Just be professional.”

“Aren’t I always? I’ll wear my best outfit. You won’t even recognize me.”

Gahyeon wasn't the same intern she was a year before, despite her sometimes acting like it. You had a feeling she would come around eventually, she just needed a little push in the right direction.

“So…is there anything I can help with, boss?” Gahyeon asked, even if it was a bit too little too late.

After a long pause, she leaned against your office desk, looking around at cluttered reports, financial documents, endless proposals, and worst of all—an entirely too empty coffee mug. Out of frustration, you laughed—because what didn't you need help with?

“Everything,” you said, slumping back in your chair. “I need to finish looking over these reports so I can have them sent to Minji. I’ve got weeks of expenses that need to be tallied up so Siyeon can reimburse me. There’s a video meeting with our new business partner in an hour and I haven’t even begun to prepare for it yet. And on top of that, every time I take a sip of coffee, my inbox keeps filling up. I just—”

Letting out a sigh of defeat, your voice sounded more and more strained. To make matters worse, Gahyeon hopped atop your desk, interrupting any chance to finish more work. She crossed her legs before reaching forward and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Boss, you’re stressed. And your muscles are so tense. It sounds like you need a massage. Do you want me to give you one?”

“That’s not what I need, Gahyeon. I just need you to help me look over these reports.”

“But that’s so boring,” she whined, pouting those sultry lips in disappointment. Having little energy left to endure her presence, you could feel your headache coming back.

“That’s why it’s called work, we’re not at a theme park. You asked what I needed help with, so this is what I need help with. Maybe after we finish, then you can give me a massage.”

Gahyeon wasn't pleased with your response, as evidenced by the look in her eyes. Refusing to sit idly, she lifted herself up off your desk and slid onto your lap before you could say another word, swinging her legs over to one side, so the weight of her generous butt rested on your thigh. But she couldn’t help but fiddle with your tie, flashing a flirtatious glance in your direction.

“You smell good, boss. New cologne?” Gahyeon asked, leaning in much closer until her face became mere inches from yours, with her seductive lips dangerously close. It became impossible to avoid her gaze, and you were inclined to lift her petite frame anchored on your lap. However, it didn't really matter because fighting Gahyeon's charm was a hopeless battle.

“I don’t wear cologne. But you need to get off me, you’re being a distraction.”

Gahyeon didn’t care—rarely did she ever, with the only goal to get whatever she wanted. “Take it easy boss, you’ll pop a blood vessel. A little break won’t hurt, will it?”

“If I had time for a break, I would take one.” Whenever Gahyeon lingered around, you only grew more and more frustrated with each passing second.

“There’s always time for a break…” Gahyeon said, always refusing to make work a priority. “Maybe you should take a short one, boss? It’s not good for your health if you keep this up. Besides—isn’t this what you hired me for?”

Your brow furrowed in irritation, before finally letting out another sigh. “No, I hired you because you showed what a good worker can be. Which I’m starting to believe was just a mistake, and I should let you be an intern forever.”

Gahyeon chuckled, her demeanor unbothered. “But you like having me around. We both know you didn’t hire me just for my work skills…”

She wasn’t exactly wrong. When Gahyeon wasn’t being a thorn in your side, you enjoyed her company, and if you had to admit, it was nice to have a pretty face show up to your office first thing in the morning—when she actually showed up.

“Gahyeon, please get off me. Once I put a dent in this work then I’ll take a break. I promise.” But as expected, she didn’t budge, stubborn as ever, and kept playing with your tie.

“But I think you should take a break now…”

“Gahyeon—”

“I get it, work comes first. But so should my boss,” she smirked, taking advantage of your compromised position. You had no response.

“So you wouldn’t want me to give you a nice, sloppy blowjob under your desk? I shouldn’t get on my knees for you and wrap these pretty little lips around your thick, delicious cock?”

You swallowed hard. Gahyeon knew how to make you crumble, no matter how tough you tried to hide your weaknesses. She knew better than anyone what exact words to say and when to provoke you. If only she put as much effort into seducing you as she did in putting off her obligations.

But your lack of any protest was the closest thing to an answer as she loosened up your tie and positioned herself into a proper mount on your lap. “I wanna make you cum, boss.”

Her words sent an electrifying tingle up your spine. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth, so I can swallow it all. So you can watch me swallow your huge load. Come on, boss. I’m dying to suck your dick.”

When your assistant practically begged, it was hard not to cave in. Your heavy workload could wait, because you couldn’t avoid those tempting eyes any longer. And if anything—it would be the best way to silence that mouth.

“Then get on your fucking knees, slut.”

Gahyeon’s devilish lips couldn’t smile any wider. Quick to comply after you uttered her favorite word, a word she no longer pretended to protest against, she used those same lips to deliver a greedy, deliberate kiss, before wiping her lipstick from your mouth.

“Since when do you care about lipstick marks?”

“I don’t, boss. I’d just rather see my lipstick at the end of your cock.”

There it was again, that annoying sly grin as Gahyeon removed herself from your lap, and lowered to her knees. She then maneuvered into the space underneath your desk, nestled perfectly between your legs.

“Anything for you, boss.” Not one to hesitate, Gahyeon unzipped your pants with an intense desire to please you, eager for what waited underneath when she felt up your crotch. Faster than your next heartbeat, she yanked your slacks down, letting them drop to the floor in a heap, and your boxers fell to your ankles moments after.

Gahyeon might have been a lot of things: unmotivated, a complainer, habitually late, but if there was one thing she was an expert at, that would be taking your mind off work. So you watched while she grabbed your cock, and slapped it on her pretty face, all while maintaining that seductive smile that screamed I’ll do anything.

But it had all fallen into place far too easily. “Are you sure you deserve to suck my cock?”

Refraining from saying much more, Gahyeon frowned and answered with deft strokes as she pumped your cock with a tight grip.

“I’ll convince you, boss.”

Her eyes sparkled with determination, widening even more when she admired your shaft, before she teased it with her wet tongue and licked along your length.

If you had to admit one weakness, it would be Gahyeon’s lips; so pouty and full, kissably soft and always ready to go down on you at a moment’s notice. When they made contact on your swollen cockhead and planted several wet kisses, there would be no holding back, you had fully given into temptation.

But there would be no guilt about letting your assistant suck you off in your office for the umpteenth time, because as Gahyeon suggested—it was just part of the job.

So without interruption, you let Gahyeon do what she did best. She continued kissing your cockhead and created a path of tender kisses all the way down to your base that warmed your shaft with her hot breath as she did so. “You’re so hard, boss…”

Only Gahyeon could be blamed for that.

“Need to get this down my throat. I’m so hungry, I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Gahyeon murmured as she licked her lips, and gave your stiff cock a proper tongue bath, followed by bouts of kissing your cock that gave as much attention as she could. Ultimately, it was the look in her eyes that turned you on more so than the sloppy licks she gave your cock, but her unwavering eye contact and growing desperation while on her knees more than helped persuade you.

“Then stop teasing me, Gahyeon,” you said, shooting her a look that demanded she comply. Surprisingly, she did just that—after one more long lick up your length, her sexy lips parted, and swallowed up the engorged head of your cock. From that moment, you melted into your office chair when Gahyeon sucked your tip, and her head bobbed in a hypnotic rhythm while her delicate hands caressed your bare thighs.

“There you fucking go,,” you muttered, almost too loud for comfort as any tension in your body began to fade. Gahyeon wrapped those pretty lips around your cock and created a tight suction that instantly made you groan as she worked her magic. Using those perfect plump lips to suck on your swollen head, she only let go of your cock to flick against your leaking slit, then nudged down further to the base to take more of you in her warm mouth.

“Mmm, you’re so delicious, boss. I’ve been waiting for this all morning,” she moaned, as she slapped your cock against her wet tongue. You knew her intentions went deeper than just your personal wellbeing, but you never should have fought back against this—and if anything, Gahyeon’s mouth on your cock should be part of your morning routine.

That pretty mouth felt better the deeper it went, using all the tricks she had stored—spitting on your dick, hollowing her cheeks, and fondling your balls until your entire length ended up buried down her throat.

“Fuck, Gahyeon—just like that.” With a deep groan, your gaze fixated on Gahyeon’s bobbing head, as you savored the intense wetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, and the wonderful warmth of her throat. The messier she got, the more tension from your body dissipated, and soon you felt lighter than a cloud, as both the stiffness in your neck and shoulders subsided.

Gahyeon, like she had candy in her mouth, sucked on each of your balls while she furiously stroked your cock. From there, her sloppy mouth swapped between your tender sack and your stiffened cock, giving equal attention until she doused each part of you with as much warm saliva as she could.

In that instant, when your throbbing length filled her throat, her greedy lips remained balls deep, with her cute nose flush against your stomach. Lost in her piercing gaze, Gahyeon lips stayed latched onto your shaft, as she took hungry, fulfilling strokes, and had never looked so needy.

But you, on the other hand, needed more than just a wet mouth to satisfy your craving. “Open that shirt up, slut. Need to see those pretty tits.”

Bobbing her head more frantically, Gahyeon kept her focus on swallowing your cock down her throat, but also loosened her tie up, and began unbuttoning her shirt. Multitasking was only a skill used when she needed it. Her nimble fingers practically ripped open her top, exposing her full, clothed breasts in the black bra underneath, with her skull tie nestled perfectly in between deep cleavage that stared back at you.

“Fuck, there’s nothing more I love than sucking your cock,” Gahyeon said, filling up her throat with every long stroke, using her talented mouth with more fervor than she ever did before.

“Doesn’t that feel good? I love hearing you moan, boss. My pretty lips must feel so good on your huge, throbbing cock, right?”

Another set of painfully obvious questions that you shouldn’t have bothered to answer. “Yeah, Gahyeon. You’re being such a good little cockslut. Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking—

It was hard to finish your sentence when you had your assistant slobbering on your dick, lips hard at work, desperate to prove her worth.

"Then why aren’t you fucking my throat?" Gahyeon asked, hands gripping your thighs to further add encouragement. You had to ask yourself the same question—but there was no need for an answer, especially after you immediately grabbed both sides of her head, with your fingers tangled up in her pretty locks.

Fortunately for Gahyeon, it wasn't in your nature to be gentle with her, and she would never want you to be. After staring at her mesmerizing eyes, you shoved her head down your length, thrusting into her mouth until you bottomed out her throat in one fluid stroke, forcing out a gag on the first try.

Holding her head down, you pumped vigorously into that tight mouth, and Gahyeon gagged once more as the bottom of your length became saturated with lipstick and saliva. Now that the last bits of control were taken away, Gahyeon let out sultry sounds of being unable to manage your length, regardless how many times she had been in this exact position.

“Sorry, boss. You’re just so big for my slutty little mouth.” Gahyeon got off on this part the most, and nothing made her happier than having her throat stuffed to the hilt, being choked with cock as you shoved it down until she couldn’t even breathe.

More than the thick flesh that gagged her, Gahyeon loved the helplessness that came with being throatfucked, the way her mouth filled with drool, and how it took mere seconds until her once pretty face became an absolute mess with just a handful of harsh thrusts. On your end, you loved ruining Gahyeon’s makeup, as well as making her luscious lips glisten with saliva, because when she walked out of your office with mascara and tears dripping down her cheeks—you knew she had no way to hide the events that had just transpired.

Yet, for all the many times you gave Gahyeon the rough throatfucking she so desperately begged for, she should have grown accustomed to the harsh way you used her pretty mouth. But you couldn’t say you didn’t love to see her struggle, audibly gag, and drool when your length continuously shoved down her throat.

After all, whenever Gahyeon was on her knees, she had little trouble submitting to you. In fact, she preferred this, to be treated like nothing but your own personal toy, to use whenever at your own convenience. Without any complaints, Gahyeon continued gagging on your cock, as you continued thrusting your hips into her face, urged by the look on her face.

“Such a good fucking slut, taking me so well. My pretty little assistant really likes being facefucked, don’t you? And gagging on your boss’s dick?” With her cock-filled throat gurgling on your shaft, slurping and leaking saliva down the corners of her lips as she tried to choke it down, Gahyeon couldn’t exactly give a response. But you could see it in those needy, lust-filled eyes, how much she took pleasure in her throat being fucked without mercy, without consideration for how well she could breathe.

Only once did you grant Gahyeon a brief respite that left her gasping for air. Unconcerned for anything but your taste, she latched her wet lips onto your balls, and suckled them with a greedy hunger you hadn’t seen before, tasting her own spilled saliva. “I really love choking on your dick, boss. You make me so wet when you force my head down, when you make my eyes water, when I can feel every last inch of this beautiful dick throbbing down my throat…”

From then, it only got rougher, even messier when Gahyeon sputtered out saliva against your shaft, gagging on your length over and over as she struggled to breathe properly. Regardless of how rough things got, she would always choose the hard flesh jammed down her throat over oxygen, and nothing could deter the lewd expressions she made, nor could it deter your vigorous skullfucking.

More and more you craved your addiction—the sounds of Gahyeon struggling, the tears in her pleading eyes, the streaks of mascara that beautifully ran down her face, and the harsh tugs of her hair you made when you hit the back of her throat. Equally, Gahyeon craved the way her lips were forced down at the bottom of your base, her mouth wide open and her jaw stretched out. Most of all, you were addicted to the intense feeling of ramming your cock down Gahyeon’s throat, because there wasn’t anything better than the messy sounds from a good throatfuck.

Gahyeon fulfilled her role well, even if she did little but stay on her knees and offer up her wet throat, dedicated to your pleasure.

"Fuck, this throat feels so damn good,” you groaned, as the endless echoing noises her messy little mouth made compelled you to be even rougher, causing the final traces of self-control collapsed. “You sound so good choking on this dick. My little slut likes being your boss’s personal fucktoy, don’t you?”

The way that Gahyeon looked up drove you wild as she answered with her eyes, not only just enduring, but savoring the merciless treatment of her throat, yet getting off more by your degrading words than any actions.

Just as you felt yourself going insane with bliss and drew closer and closer to that sweet nirvana—there came a knock at a door that interrupted your fun.

Shit.

Mild panic kicked in—you couldn’t think straight. You wouldn't have any cause for concern if Yoohyeon or Bora came through that door, they’d even take a seat to enjoy the show and spur you on. But you had to be ready for anyone else who wouldn’t turn a blind eye, regardless if the entire office floor knew you railed your assistant more often than a fresh cup of coffee brewed.

After you involuntarily released the tight grip you held on either side of Gahyeon’s head, you tried to collect yourself and ran through dozens of scenarios in your head in preparation for whatever possibility would materialize.

“Don’t fucking move, Gahyeon. Don’t make a fucking sound, just keep my cock warm in your throat, okay?”

Moving back beneath your desk as a quick sign of acknowledgment, Gahyeon tried her best to stay out of sight, and for the time being, kept your cock in her mouth obediently.

While your heart pounded as you wondered who could possibly be behind your office door, you made your best effort to tidy up your desk, wanting at least something to look presentable.

“Come in!” you said, after some serious hesitation, and hoped that you wouldn’t be caught with your pants down—quite literally. Moments later, the door to your office opened, and it came as no surprise who stood behind it, the lesser of two evils—Kim Minji.

“Good morning, boss.” Somehow, you found the courage to look straight ahead while resisting the impulse to look underneath your desk.

“Morning!” Minji replied back, sporting a bright smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to add to your pile. I come with good news only. Here are our monthly earnings reports. We’re up ten percent from last month, so your bonus at the end of the month will reflect that. Good work.”

You held your breath when Minji dropped a folder on your desk, and pretended everything was as normal as could be, like you weren’t naked from the waist down with your cock being warmed by Gahyeon’s pretty lips.

“Thank you, boss. Oh here, I have some reports that you need to look over and sign them.”

“Of course, I’ll have them back to you by the end of the day.” For all the stress that Minji brought, her smile alone came with a sense of relief, and she was much preferable to deal with than her scary counterpart, Siyeon.

“Wait, where is Gahyeon? I swear I saw her earlier, did she not show up today?” Minji asked, folding her arms against her chest.

If only Minji knew your assistant was nestled under your desk. Which of course meant Gahyeon couldn’t help herself. As if on cue, her tongue began to play with the underside of your shaft, and you gritted your teeth to control yourself, but you palmed the back of Gahyeon's head and dug your nails into her skull to prevent anything else.

“Oh, she’s here. She’s…around. I sent her on a couple errands, so she should be back soon.”

“Ah, okay. Well, whenever she comes back, send her my regards for a job well done. She’s an official part of the team now, so she shares the credit.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Minji nodded, turned around to head back to her office, then shut the door behind her. Once she had departed, you took a deep breath, and relaxed back in your chair, with your heart still racing.

“Jesus, Gahyeon. What did I say?” You glared at her underneath your desk, but she didn’t utter a single word. No sooner had you taken your next breath before she snatched your cock back inside her mouth and went back to work.

“Think you can finish me off by yourself? You want me to blow my load down your tummy?"

Gahyeon had never smiled so wide, nor had as much enthusiasm when she bobbed her head and played with your balls, trying to speed up your orgasm. “Yes, boss! Please let me swallow your cum, I’ll suck every drop out of you.”

Despite how much she enjoyed having her throat used, Gahyeon also took pride in her oral expertise. So, in the blink of an eye, her movements grew frantic, eager to wring out your load as promised, with every stroke of her mouth bringing you even further to ecstasy.

More than ready to blow your load, you couldn’t ignore the tightness in your core when Gahyeon’s warm, sloppy mouth devoured your cock up, deepthroating from tip to base, with a trail of saliva covering every inch as she slurped the life out of you.

“Don’t fucking stop, Gahyeon. I’m so close, keep sucking that dick until you make me explode,” you demanded, and she obliged as she sucked with a fervor never shown before, impatiently waiting for you to shoot down her throat.

Nearly there, your breathing grew heavy, faster with each stroke, and you couldn’t wait to release that deep reservoir of pent up lust Gahyeon had caused. As each pass drove you closer and closer to release, you couldn't stop staring at how her lips swallowed you whole while her eyes kept their focus on you, anticipating your climax.

Gahyeon didn’t hold back anything, finishing you off with one more long stroke from base to tip, as you gripped the back of her head tightly with both hands, pressed her face down your crotch, and let out a loud groan when you finally unloaded in her mouth. Like a tidal wave, your orgasm hit, her eyes widening more than they ever had when your thick cum quickly overflowed from the messy corners of her lips, the volume of your orgasm simply too much to handle.

You firmly held her head down, unwilling to let go, all while your dick continued to pulsate inside Gahyeon’s throat, sending more hot semen down, and you spilled everything you had with loud grunts and lust-filled groans. Exhausted and drained of every drop, every ounce of energy, you gasped and panted while releasing the harsh grip you held, feeling the weight of the world lifted. With a messy face and a satisfied smile, Gahyeon pulled away until your cock released from her lips, and opened her mouth wide to let you see the creamy pool of cum gathered up before she swallowed the sticky mess that coated her throat.

After licking her lips stained with saliva, Gahyeon cleaned up the remnants of arousal that she failed to contain, using her tongue to clean up your crotch so she could fill her stomach more. Only then did she place one more deep kiss on your cock that had yet to stop twitching, and slid her tongue into your sensitive slit, desperate to try to find a drop she hadn’t yet tasted.

“Your cum tastes so good, but I need more, boss, much more. Your delicious cum makes a very good breakfast.”

“Greedy little cumslut.” Gahyeon giggled in admission as she licked clean the head of your cock. Several deep breaths later, you leaned back in your chair and just stared at her, who kept some part of her body touching yours, lips kissing your inner thighs, delicate hands longing to keep your body warm.

You were far from done with her, but the workplace would no longer cut it, you needed a more open playground.

“There’s much more for you later, but you’ll have to earn it,” you said, earning a pout from Gahyeon’s thoroughly used lips, because being told to work for something—even your dick, made her disappointed. Taking some pause, she lifted herself up, stood upright, and took a seat back on your desk, eyes looking around at the stacks and mountains of paperwork that seemed impossible to know where to begin.

“Now that I’ve relieved some of that stress, what else can I help with, boss?” she asked, not even bothering to button up her shirt.

“Nothing, Gahyeon.”

“Nothing?” she repeated, tilting her head to one side. “But I thought you had a lot of work to finish…”

“Yeah, I do. Piles of it, as you can see. But since you got me so worked up, it’ll have to wait,” you said, shamelessly focusing on her uncovered cleavage that still had glistening saliva staining her chest.

“I’m going to take the rest of the day off, and so are you, just so I can rail you into next week—but not here. Because we both know you’ll be far too loud, so we’re going back to my place so I can fuck your brains out far away from this office, where nobody will be around to hear how loud you’ll scream for me.”

Even in her disheveled state, Gahyeon couldn’t have been more overjoyed. She’d take any excuse to leave the office. But convincing your superiors as to why you were leaving work with your assistant before noon would be the tricky part, though just this once, you could count on Gahyeon, because you knew she had a thousand different ways to get out of work. You'd leave that part all up to her.

✦ ✦

You couldn’t have driven fast enough to your place. Luckily, most traffic lights were in your favor, and those that weren’t, well—you were fortunate enough to not see red and blue in your rear view mirror. Not even three songs played through your playlist before you arrived, then it became a race to enter your house, and the door couldn’t open fast enough.

The thought of staying in a hotel did cross your mind, with its spacious beds that you wouldn’t be responsible for changing sheets, scalding hot showers, and beautiful balconies that were perfect for ramming your pretty assistant up against the cold glass while admiring the view. If you wanted, you could have made everything come full circle and took Gahyeon to the same hotel you took Bora to that very first night that snowballed your office relationships. For sure, that really would have made Gahyeon jealous and brought out an even bigger brat in her, but also most likely you’d get kicked out for noise complaints within five minutes.

Your place would suffice. After all, it was already well equipped with everything you needed, without worries of noise or any other concerns, although you planned on fucking Gahyeon hard enough that the entire neighborhood could hear her moans and screams.

When the door closed behind Gahyeon, there would be no more holding back, the green light to take her against any surface to do whatever you pleased with her. But she didn’t even bother to properly store her shoes when she slipped them off, yet neither did you, as you tossed your keys, wallet, and all your inhibitions.

“Bedroom? Living room?” she asked, but wouldn’t make it past the foyer before you pinned her against the front door with a hand wrapped around her throat. Gahyeon knew things wouldn’t be easy the moment she stepped foot in your place, but it didn’t stop her from feeling just a trace of nervousness when you tightened your grip, adding to her arousal.

She couldn’t hide her anticipation, nor her little lip quivers under your control, but at the same time—this was what she wanted, what she worked hard to provoke you, willing to fold and let you have your way with her.

“Here? You’re gonna fuck me hard against this door, daddy?” she asked, as though it were both a question and a suggestion, but it only made you clutch her throat harder when you pushed her more against the wood of the front door.

“Don’t call me that, Gahyeon.”

“But you like it when I call you that. And we’re not at the office…” Gahyeon was right on all counts, but after her little morning shenanigans, she would have to earn her daddy privileges back.

“You’re right. We’re not at the office anymore, but that doesn’t mean you still deserve to use that word. Because now you’re going to call me sir while I fuck you senseless until your legs give out.”

Releasing the grip on her throat, Gahyeon caught her breath, then gave a slight nod with a blatantly mocking salute. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s much better. Now arms up.”

Gahyeon stalled as she rolled her eyes and curled her lips into an even more blatant smirk. “But what if I don’t wanna?”

That was what you expected, of course. Now, in the comfort of your own space, the best part of bringing Gahyeon home was the freedom to do what you wanted with her. But it came at a cost, for her to fall into her old bratty ways, with her own freedom to challenge every order you gave with less repercussions than at the office..

“Arms up, slut,” you repeated, but predictable as always, Gahyeon didn’t move a muscle, nor did she make any attempts to listen. Fine then, you would play her little game—for now. While you stared at the whites of those gorgeous eyes, waiting to see who would blink first, you seized her cold, delicate wrists, and pinned them above her head with the harshest grip you could manage.

She pretended to fight back, squirming under your touch, and pretended like she couldn’t be controlled. But when you stared daggers into her big, round eyes, she folded like a deck of cards, thanks to your intimidating gaze.

“Keep those arms raised, Gahyeon. Don’t drop them until I say so.”

“Y-yes, sir,” she said after nodding in agreement, refusing to give up her faux defiance while you caressed and patted her cheek.

“Good girl.”

As her first test of obedience, you released the firm grip on her wrists that had developed bruises already, and observed while she kept her arms held high above her head. Searching for any signs of resistance, you couldn’t find any when you loosened up Gahyeon’s tie and slid it off her, almost tempted to use it to bind her hands together. Instead, you flung it aside and undid her top, allowing yourself access to her ample breasts once more.

Her chest didn’t stay covered for long, and after a long stare between her deep cleavage, you tugged her lacy bra down enough to release her wonderful full breasts, cupping them the moment they earned freedom.

Making sure Gahyeon still held her arms up, you squeezed her bare breasts, groping as much flesh could fill your hands. You teased her taut nipples, flicking your fingers against them as they stiffened up, which made a helpless Gahyeon moan against your touch.

“Look at these gorgeous fucking tits. They look so swollen and sensitive,” you said while fondling them to your heart's content, enjoying their softness, their pleasant weight, and how effortlessly they bounced as you toyed with them. Her tits were as immaculate as they were sensitive, softer as you remembered, perfectly shaped, and you could spend hours kneading them, playing with them, all while her eyes begging for your continued touch.

The more you squeezed Gahyeon’s large breasts, the needier her moans became, as your hands got lost in that milky flesh. She could feel her shoulders ache the longer things went, but knew better than to dare complain. That would be the least of her worries soon enough.

You tugged at her pretty nipples, pinched them, then flicked them more just to break the silence with her whines—but it would be the last modicum of pure pleasure you would grant Gahyeon. Without warning, you slapped one of her heavy breasts, and watched her flinch in surprise. You then slapped her other breast even harder, perfectly landing on her stiffened nipple that you pinched right after, making her yelp out while causing satisfying ripples of her sensitive flesh.

Unable to hide her reactions, Gahyeon cried out in both pain and pleasure while you continued smacking her pale tits, the harsh sound an addictive level of arousal for her—for you, another release of frustration, more encouragement to hear those cute whines, and most of all, more punishment.

Back and forth you went between her beautiful tits, and smacked one after another, right, then the left, then the opposite direction, even slapping them both at once, like a metronome of painful pleasure leaving an arousing soreness that made Gahyeon’s thighs clench.

"I like you much better when you're an obedient little whore,” you said, proud to have wiped that smirk from Gahyeon’s pretty face, and kept up your assault on her supple, tender breasts that began to turn a shade of red that contrasted with her creamy skin, turning even more sensitive than from the start. She fought hard not to moan, unsuccessful when you carried on the ruthless nature, each pass across her reddened chest a heavy reminder that you were the one with all the power.

“Fucking brat. You like these huge fucking tits being slapped?” Before she responded, you roughly kneaded her breasts, earning even louder whimpers when you played with her nipples, driving her crazy with stimulation.

“Y-yes, sir, I love it, I love my tits being slapped! Please, sir, please—make it hurt,” Gahyeon pleaded, and for once, you’d oblige her by smacking her tits with much more force than previously, only to watch them bounce and bounce, as if counting the times she disobeyed you. You knew she could take more, that the painful sting of her tits being slapped would only ruin her panties more. Which was exactly why following a few more smacks and tugs at her swollen nipples, you gave each sensitive, reddened breast one final slap before you pulled away.

Unsurprisingly, Gahyeon couldn’t help but be greedy and beg for just a little more. “Please, sir! Please keep slapping my tits, please, please…”

But you ignored her pleas entirely and took a step back, admiring the way Gahyeon stayed frozen in this helpless state. “No, Gahyeon. A greedy little slut like you doesn’t deserve anything.”

Next came the customary pouts, needy whines, and desperate pleas that you disregarded while guiding her away from the doorway, removing that pesky shirt and bra to leave her fully topless. Finally able to rest her tired arms, the first thing Gahyeon did was make her way over to you, squeezed a handful of your crotch, and let her eyes wander while a delightful smile overtook her sinful lips.

“Please, sir…” Normally, you’d punish an unpermitted action like that, but well—you figured Gahyeon had enough punishment for now. Plus, you knew that would be exactly what she wanted. So instead, you simply grabbed Gahyeon by the waist, and held her tight against the nearest wall as you dove into her neck.

“Ah, please!” Letting out little gasps while you licked, nibbled, and then sucked on her delicate neck, eager to leave a mark.

As you kept sucking a bruise into her neck, Gahyeon returned to your crotch, and rubbed you through your slacks until you hardened under her touch. You made quick work of her skirt and removed it from her tiny little waist, then watched the way it dropped down to her ankles, leaving her in just skimpy panties and torn stockings. Those tattered, unprofessional stockings which gave you an idea when you dropped to one knee.

You ran a finger over her thigh, scratching against the material to test its strength, and easily tore through the fragile fabric. Confirming your suspicions, you found the perfect spot and tugged at the sheer fabric right between the center until they ripped open.

Gahyeon looked down in shock, but you couldn’t even be bothered to meet her gaze. “Hey! I liked those stockings!”

You didn’t—they were tacky, cheap-looking, and most of all, inappropriate for the office. No better excuse than getting rid of them by ripping them off Gahyeon. “You earn a better paycheck now, you can buy another pair. One that’s more professional, like you promised. Besides, they were ripped already.”

“But they’re supposed to be—”

Ignoring her was, as always, the best course of action while you removed her now useless stockings and admired her bare, luscious legs in all their splendor. When you rose to your feet and pressed two fingers against her clothed cunt, Gahyeon no longer had any complaints to spare.

“Ah! Will you—will you fuck me now, sir?”

Not a damn thing would stop you from that. “Yes, Gahyeon. I’m going to use your tight body, every slutty little hole, until I’m satisfied, and I’ll make sure I ruin you.”

With your intentions laid out, Gahyeon couldn’t look more pleased, and there was no better motivation than your petite assistant waiting for you to ravage her body. Not wasting a second, Gahyeon unbuttoned your pants as you took off your shirt, adding both items to the discarded pile of clothes underneath. For a brief moment, you admired each other’s half-naked bodies, until you grabbed her waist to pull her close enough so that she could feel your bulge against her toned stomach.

“I can feel how hard you are. I did this to you, didn’t I sir?” Gahyeon asked, as she reached down to massage your bulge, tracing every inch while your throbbing erection strained against the fabric.

“You’re right, Gahyeon. Your slutty little body caused this. And you know what I plan on doing about it right?”

“This cock is going inside me, isn’t it, sir? Until I can’t walk?”

“Until you can’t walk.”

Without saying anything more, Gahyeon began her ascent up the stairs that led to the bedroom, but only made it a few steps, before you grabbed her voluptuous hips and bent her over the stairwell railing. Little could compare from such a vantage point with your curvy assistant in your favorite position, yet you wasted no time peeling off her skimpy little thong to expose her plump buttcheeks and the prettiest set of pink pussy lips.

“Impatient, sir?” she asked, and instinctively spread her legs, granting easier access to whichever part of her body you would decide to partake in first. Making that decision would be more difficult than anything you had done at work, for sure.

“That’s your fault, Gahyeon. Now you’re going to share some of the responsibility,” you replied, pondering over your choices carefully. Her tight, spankable ass begged for attention, and that little asshole would be a wonderful place to start, but the wet flesh of her gorgeous cunt couldn’t be ignored, beckoning as it dripped with arousal. Either would provide an ideal home for your aching shaft.

Until a decision could be made, you removed your boxers, and gave yourself some relief, stroking several times as your attention grew divided between Gahyeon’s juicy ass and the slick pair of lips that waited for you.

“Where do you want this cock, slut?" you asked, unable to make a decision on your own and rested your shaft between her shapely cheeks. Surrounded by supple flesh that sandwiched your thick erection, you slid in between and throbbed while you awaited her answer.

“Wherever you want, sir,” Gahyeon responded, an honest, yet unhelpful response that did little to steer your answer in the right direction. “It really doesn’t matter, as long as you pound me like a whore and empty these big juicy balls inside me.”

Back at square one, it would be up to you to choose your own fate. Inevitably, you’d use both that tight sculpted ass and her drenched, succulent pussy, but without any lube in arm’s reach, the choice became obvious which would be the winner of your seed. You would save the best for last.

“Fine, Gahyeon. Let’s start with this pretty little cunt.”

With your cock poised above Gahyeon’s ass, she couldn’t have been more ready when she arched her back and leaned firmly on the railing, looking back for a moment to entice you with her eyes. As you lined yourself up with her warm opening, your tip nudged her plump pussy lips, and you felt her walls tremble in anticipation. You were all out of patience, so after you grabbed her wide hips and slid inside her with ease, you bottomed her out with your entire length in one fluid motion.

“Oh god,” Gahyeon moaned out in surprise, while her pussy tightened around your shaft the moment she felt your thick shaft slide into her slippery warmth. “So fucking big.”

There was no pause, no hesitation when you plunged your hard cock inside the intense warmth of Gahyeon’s tight little pussy. The soft flesh wrapped around you, already dripping wet when it squeezed your length, and your shaft felt so damn good inside that tight hole that your hips picked up speed right away, stretching out her velvety walls. With every thrust you felt her walls quiver, compelled to grip her body tighter, and used her body as an outlet, entirely out of frustration for how goddamn tight she was.

“Goddamn, Gahyeon, you’re so fucking wet,” you hissed, out of breath at the hot flesh that craved your throbbing cock as you pumped into her heat, your entire shaft covered in her slick juices. “So tight, such a tight fucking slut, god—this tight pussy feels too good.”

Already, you were going insane, even by the first set of thrusts, Gahyeon felt so hot around you, her delicious cunt squeezing so harshly, that you couldn't help but give in to lust, freeing the restraints that remained. Almost on autopilot, you pounded into her heat unabated, pistoning your hips that met her supple cheeks, and rippled with every thrust as the smack of flesh on flesh filled the small foyer.

“Oh my god, just like that. Fuck me like that, please sir, fuck me like a toy!” she begged, not that being gentle with her would ever be an option, not when you could stretch her in ways unimaginable.

“Your tight little cunt loves my cock, doesn’t it? Look at you creaming all over me like a needy fucking whore. You like being used, don’t you? You like being fucked this rough by your boss?” you growled, as Gahyeon desperately moaned for more.

Fueled by the intense clench of her cunt that persuaded you to keep the rough pace, she held the railing while you kept railing her, and made every type of satisfied moan imaginable. Those delicious cheeks bounced and bounced when your body clapped against them, and they became a soundtrack of delirious bliss, one that you could listen to forever.

“Sir, yes! Oh my god, you’re so deep in my little pussy, please, please, sir—fuck me harder! Fuck, oh fuck!”

You continued to mercilessly slam into Gahyeon’s wet cunt as she repeatedly added the word sir to the end of her moans, and fought to keep up with the tempo you set as she became louder with each hard set of thrusts.

Beginning to pant heavily, Gahyeon squirmed underneath your body and desperately tried to anchor herself to the stairwell. Her beautiful pale skin glistened with sweat as you kept pounding away into her slippery warm depths, and your movements became more and more erratic, borderline out of control.

And she endured it all so well, so fucking wet you swore you would slip out of her at any moment, but you kept hammering out thrusts, with your end goal to absolutely destroy her cunt. Because with Gahyeon, there was no such thing as being too rough, no holding back, and it was a given to fuck her without a morsel of mercy that undoubtedly, even your neighbors across the street could hear the screams she made while your bodies crashed together.

If it were anything less, Gahyeon would have complained without end.

Leaning closer, with your hands still squeezing her insanely wide hips, you buried your face into the crook of her hot sweaty neck, took a long lick, and bit down harshly, yearning for the rich taste of Gahyeon.

“After I cum in you, that huge ass is next. I’ve been waiting to fill your holes, ever since you were on your knees under my desk. I could have pounded your ass at work, but I wanted to do it in the comfort of my own bed so I wouldn’t have to worry about staining the carpet. It’s not easy to explain to the custodial staff that my assistant can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”

For once, maybe since the first time you met her—Gahyeon became speechless. Her attention narrowed on how you were slamming your hips against her and rearranging her guts. “When you report to work tomorrow, you’re going to have to carry around one of those spare cushions from the maintenance closet from me ravaging your perfect ass.”

Every slew of vulgarity that left your mouth made Gahyeon’s hips buck almost as much as the rough thrusts that battered her sweaty little body. You kept yourself buried in her tight cunt, consumed with desire from the sensations of your hard cock that slid between her drenched lips, pounding into her with thrusts so hard she almost collapsed.

Overpowered by exhaustion, Gahyeon released her grip on the stairwell, and you took advantage by seizing both her arms one at a time, and held them behind her back, linking them with yours. She wasn’t going anywhere as her lips uttered the most needy cries of pleasure when you pulled her upright towards you, the warmth of her cunt intoxicating, sending you into a frenzy of bliss. Gahyeon was completely yours, and you were free to use and dominate her hot body as much as you desired until you had your fill.

Utilizing your remaining strength, you followed down a final path of merciless thrusts while keeping her curves close to you at all times, maintaining the urge to fuck every last little bit of brat out of her.

Her words became a jumbled mess of incoherence, and the more you plunged into that smothering wet heat, the greater the urge became to spill your seed inside Gahyeon, unwilling to fight back against the tightness in your balls that demanded to be drained.

And while Gahyeon didn’t deserve to cum—you were more than content to keep this a one-sided ride of pleasure, but had to ensure that she became more than a ruined, blithering, fucked out mess who couldn’t remember whose assistant she was. You wouldn’t be satisfied until her legs turned to jelly, hell-bent on this maddening pace as her body began to tremble, counting down to the last moments of release that you both chased.

Because there would never be anything better than watching Gahyeon fall apart at the seams.

"Sir, please, I’m so close. Please, n-need, need to—” Gahyeon didn’t even have to vocalize her desires when the walls of her soaked cunt tightened to a new level, but you always enjoyed that begging, and wouldn’t hesitate to finish what you had started. So after letting go of her arms, she collapsed to the stairs, clinging onto the wooden steps with your cock still pounding away.

“Hurry up and cum then,” you said, indulging your desires to reclaim her delicious hips once more, clutching them tightly.

Gahyeon couldn’t exactly do much else under your control, so close to obtaining what she craved since you shoved your cock inside her. She seemed almost reluctant, but the tighter you held her and the quicker you pumped, the more the walls of her cunt pulsated violently—until she shattered like glass. The pressure boiled up inside far too much, making her writhe uncontrollably, juices pouring down your dick that painted the bottom stairs.

“Shit, oh fuck, oh fuck—” Gahyeon gasped out when she hit her peak, and let out a torrential outpour of shrieks, her walls continuously suffocating your cock. The only thing better would be seeing Gahyeon’s tits bouncing wildly in the mirror, as well as the look of pure bliss etched on her gorgeous face when she came.

Never had her pussy felt so wet or so tight, those harsh clenches like she was prematurely attempting to extract the cum from your aching balls, desperate to be filled with your seed to the brim.

“You must be close too, sir. Cum inside me, please, please cum inside me, fill me, sir…”

“Don’t you fucking worry, Gahyeon. Your slutty little pussy feels way too good for me not to empty my load into you. That’s what you wanted from the beginning, right? Your boss pumping all this hot cum into your warm little cunt?”

“Yes, yes! Please, sir—fill your little brat, fill me up and use me like a cumdump. Need to feel your big throbbing cock emptying into me, please.”

Savoring the way that tight little hole trembled for your load would be the last thing you did before burying your length inside one last time, and unloaded deep into Gahyeon. All those hours of pent up annoyance disappeared when you spilled your hot seed into her insides. Her wet, hungry pussy clenched for more, milking out spurt after spurt, groan after groan, as your cock twitched in violent pulsations, and filled her up to the brim, overflowing with every drop.

You chased that last bit of bliss, pumping with as many strokes as your body had left, and fucked your hot semen into Gahyeon deep, deep as it would go—all the way into her womb.

When that last spurt finally left your balls, you slumped against her, panting heavily, but with no desire to unsheathe from her warmth. Especially not when Gahyeon continued to quiver in ecstasy, catching her breath while you both recovered.

“Th-thank you, sir,” Gahyeon whispered, her voice weak and trembling, just like her legs underneath her that became just as useless as any words. Your breathing only became deeper the longer you stayed inside Gahyeon, and eventually you pulled out from her swollen lips, watching a slow drip of thick, pearlescent cum that had just been swallowed up leak down her glistening thighs, meeting the rest of her arousal on the steps.

“Gahyeon, fuck—”

“D-don’t worry, sir,” she answered, almost reading your mind while your fresh cum continued to trickle down her battered cunt. “Never been better…”

After a tilt of her head sideways, you kissed her lips while still pressing yourself against her body, feeling her breath in your mouth to validate her condition for yourself. “That’s my good assistant.”

Even though her legs no longer felt like her legs, and her breathing remained unsteady, you helped Gahyeon up to her feet, and moved her so her back rested against the railing.

“So, boss…”

Her chest still hypnotically heaved, and she held onto each side of the railing for support. “H-how come you never fuck me this hard in the office?”

“Because if I fucked you this hard, we’d both get fired. We’ve gotten caught enough times as is.”

“Yeah, well—” she paused, and avoided the subject, grabbing you by the arm with a weak grip. “You promised you’d fuck me in the ass, boss. Now, come on, I can still walk. Barely.”

Whenever Gahyeon looked up at you like that, flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, and a magic smile, now you were the one powerless. If she didn’t need a breather, then neither did you. So, leading the way, Gahyeon sluggishly climbed up the stairs to the bedroom, swaying her hips, with her round ass such a beautiful target that you couldn’t help but smack.

✦ ✦

After the pounding she took, Gahyeon didn’t exactly run up the bedroom stairs. However, her leisurely pace meant you could admire every aspect of her delicious body, and watch the way your cum still dripped down her thighs with every step.

Her appetite for dick hadn’t been tamed, and if there was anything better than Gahyeon on her knees—it was Gahyeon lying on your bed naked. Running fingers through her hair, her head bobbed with familiarity between your spread legs, her bare feet dangling in the air, with a mouth full of cock.

But while you loved the proper oral session Gahyeon gave as you relaxed into your pillows, and her hot mouth swallowing your length whole, that wasn’t her purpose here. That belonged to something waiting on your nightstand.

You raised Gahyeon’s head off your cock with a simple motion, which caused her lips to pout, but instead of complaining, she crawled over your lap and grabbed something from said nightstand.

“This must be for me,” Gahyeon said, attempting to act coy and innocent as she shook up a bottle of lube, its contents already half-empty. She flicked the bottle open with a pop, and turned her back towards you, positioning herself on the edge of your lap. Gahyeon gave you a worthy show when she lubed herself up, inserting one digit, then another, fingering her ass as she spread the cold liquid around her tightest hole, letting out cute little moans the deeper she went.

“Can’t wait to feel your cock instead of my fingers,” she said, turning to face you, and drizzled lube down your shaft, eyes beaming with anticipation. “Can’t wait to feel all of it filling me up.”

For good measure, she poured some down your balls, just to see the way they glistened when she rubbed it in, but kept going, her oiled up hands massaging your stiff cock.

“Hope you’re ready for that little asshole to be stretched, Gahyeon.”

“I am. I can’t wait anymore, sir, please,” she pleaded, guiding your cock, and groaned when she sandwiched your girth between her asscheeks. Letting her impatience linger, you remained silent while Gahyeon’s massive ass rubbed your cock, but grabbed the bottle of lube from her, and coated her pale cheeks until her entire backside became oiled up.

“See? Doesn’t that feel good? It’ll feel so much better when it’s inside me…”

You couldn’t agree more, but that only meant Gahyeon would wait longer, because you needed one more moment to savor how the oiled flesh of her plump ass squeezed your cock, one more moment to admire that magnificent ass. Grabbing a handful, you smacked it hard, an imaginary green light appearing in her eyes.

“Yeah? You’re going to ream my ass finally?” Gahyeon asked with a breath of relief.

“Yes, Gahyeon. There’s no way I’m not going to shove my cock up this perfect ass.”

Those words made her grin from ear to ear, earning what she wished for, a reward for patience. "I’ve needed my little hole stretched so wide, sir, please—”

“You don’t have to keep calling me sir,” you said, and her eyes twinkled upon earning her privileges back.

“Please, daddy—”

“Stop begging, Gahyeon. I'm not only going to stretch you out, I plan on destroying your tight ass until you become a pathetic, whimpering mess. And even if you pleaded with me to stop fucking your brains out, I won’t, because remember—you wanted this.”

Gahyeon couldn’t help but curl her distinctive lips into a blush-inducing smile. Despite the fact that you just laid out the blueprints to give her the anal hammering she so richly deserved, you felt no obligation to move a muscle. After all, you shouldn’t be the only one doing all the work, should you?

“If you want this dick so bad, then come bounce that fat ass on it.”

“Yes, daddy!” she replied, somehow still so energetic while she lifted her hips high and grabbed your cock, carefully lining it up against her back opening, that juicy ass eagerly waiting to be filled. When it came to anal, Gahyeon was nothing but enthusiastic, and preferred it almost as much as you did, and who could blame her when she had an ass like that.

So naturally, Gahyeon wasted little time, taking a deep breath before lowering herself down, until your thick cockhead disappeared inside her impossibly tight asshole. That first orgasmic plunge was the very definition of heaven, a slow burn of bliss upon entering her back entrance that always took your breath away.

“Oh god, daddy,” she gasped, placing both hands on your thighs for leverage. Sharing the sentiment, you gritted your teeth when you felt such an overwhelming tightness that surrounded your shaft, and could hardly process it all, eyes focused on the way Gahyeon’s luscious ass rose back up, nearly leaving herself empty before she sank deeper. There was nothing like watching her ass swallow up your cock.

Every little twitch, every shudder that ran through your body urged her to take you deeper, because for your assistant, it wasn’t much trouble to fit more of you inside. At this point, Gahyeon was a seasoned veteran in taking a cock up her ass, relaxing every muscle, while she took more into her hungry lithe body.

“Shit, Gahyeon, that ass is fucking tight,” you said, now your turn to be blatantly obvious as Gahyeon worked more cock inside that warm little hole, with only one goal in mind—every inch balls deep.

That goal wouldn’t take long to accomplish when she arched her back, taking your cock into her small frame like it was nothing, and spread her ass cheeks to accept more of you. “Good girl, you take that cock like such a good girl, stretch that little asshole out.”

With every word of praise, she clenched hard, an extra bonus to that magnificent view in front, Gahyeon’s perfect, round ass taking more of your girth, begging for your whole length.

“Ah fuck, daddy—oh my god, you’re so big. You feel so good, daddy, I need more, fuck, fuck—”

Nothing compared to the tightness of Gahyeon; that divine cunt could squeeze a load out of you in seconds, but her warm, heavenly asshole, almost painfully tight—that’s where the real fun started.

Greedy as could be, Gahyeon bounced her thick ass on your dick like she had something to prove, that vice-like grip already driving you to the point of insanity. Nearly burying your entire length in one motion, she pumped those wide hips like they had a mind of their own, and the pressure on your cock intensified while her tight little hole became stretched to the limit.

“Fuck, I love how good this feels. Need daddy to gape me, open me up more. Please, daddy, fill me more…”

She pleaded with every word, and your throbbing shaft fought against the constricting walls of her asshole, but for either of you, it was never enough—you needed to be as deep inside her as possible. At the tail end of one of her endless bounces, you reached up to grab her oiled ass and pulled her body back as you plunged the full length of your shaft deep inside her asshole in one continuous stroke.

“Oh shit!” Gahyeon cried out, those tight walls grasping your cock with somehow more force after feeling your full length buried inside her. She rolled those magical hips to match your thrusts, that ass eager to take every last inch, and she tried her absolute best to accommodate your size.

“Does my little slut like bouncing that fat ass on my dick?” you asked, returning the reins back to Gahyeon, who took the initiative and slammed her cheeks down on your thick, rigid cock, every bounce devouring you balls deep.

“Yes, daddy! Oh god, it’s so amazing. You know I ride dick better when it’s in my ass.” Gahyeon demonstrated by using your cock to ride with more fervor, that plump ass engulfing your stiff erection as her hips moved in powerful circles, drawing you deeper under her euphoric spell.

All your focus stayed on Gahyeon’s body, how sweat collected on her back, and the hypnotic way her round wet cheeks rippled as she fucked herself on your shaft without interruption. As her ass choked your cock, you did nothing but lay back in the sheets and let her handle everything, the cadence of her careless bounces mirroring the bed that creaked in protest.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, so perfect—god, that tight little asshole feels incredible. Look how well you take me, keep going,” you said, demanding in your tone, and now that Gahyeon had been properly opened up, she had an obligation to take your whole length into her hot little asshole as she rode you like crazy, accelerating her hips, utterly consumed by lust. Even when the bounces of her ass became relentless, it didn’t dampen the unimaginable bliss; if anything, it planted the seeds of desire further.

“My body is yours, daddy. Use it, use me as you like,” Gahyeon said, looking back with her lips curled wider than ever. Words like that made your swelling erection throb like crazy, the pleasure of your shaft buried in her suffocating ass almost too much to handle.

Seizing control of Gahyeon’s tight frame, she lifted her bare feet and placed them on your thighs as you took hold of her hips, not wanting to waste any time as you remained lodged within that perfect plump ass.

“You feel that hard cock throbbing inside you? That’s what’s gonna destroy this amazing ass. I’ll make sure my pretty slut can’t walk for a whole fucking week.”

Gahyeon wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less, nor would she if you granted her any mercy while hammering your dick into her asshole, making every thrust that you delivered count. Firmly in charge of her body, you pounded away at that tight muscular ring, using your cock to gape Gahyeon’s little hole until it no longer struggled to fit your length, but she craved more, much more, and you reciprocated her desires.

“Yes, daddy, yes! Fuck, that cock stretches me so well, use me all you want,” she whimpered, the strength in her voice fading from all the begging. Just like in the office, Gahyeon understood her duties in the bedroom, knowing how to be an outlet for your lust, and how to be a proper fucktoy. There would never be any doubts about how aggressive you would be with her, so after sliding your hands under her sweaty thighs, you pushed her legs up into a V shape, locked your fingers around her neck, then lifted her small frame into the air, giving your all into every unforgiving thrust.

“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, holy shit—” Gahyeon cried out as you fully put her into the full nelson position and hammered her ass relentlessly like she was a fleshlight. As you used her incredible ass in the manner that she loved, taking absolute control, nothing could match the absolute bliss that filled your body, and you were lucky to pound something so perfect.

If only you could see the way her eyes rolled back in her head while you rammed her ass without mercy—but hearing her boisterous cries of pleasure would have to do. In an instant, your hips released all their energy stored up for the last several moments, and you drilled Gahyeon’s asshole with so much vigor that her moans turned into loud, frantic screams—one of your favorite sounds from her lips.

“Oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop, ruin my little asshole, oh fuck!” Gahyeon managed to utter out before her words became little more than a slur of curses, unraveling underneath your unrelenting onslaught as the intense pleasure in your cock turned into an addiction, one that you would fuel by treating her body just like a toy, giving her the anal pounding she so richly deserved.

Despite how forceful your thrusts were, nothing would stop Gahyeon from begging for more, and you could drill her ass indefinitely. But as much as you craved to keep her suspended in that position, the creeping urge for release began to take over, so involuntarily you would oblige it, savoring how helpless Gahyeon remained while you kept her asshole filled to the hilt.

When your shaft finally slipped from her ass, you beamed with pride at how gaped you made her asshole, and Gahyeon fell to her side, able to catch her breath. But that respite wouldn’t last long, since she couldn’t stand not having your cock inside in some way, and slurped on your Gahyeon-flavored tip once more.

“God, you’re an insatiable little slut, aren’t you? You like tasting your ass?”

“Mhmm,” Gahyeon hummed, and planted a big wet kiss on your tip before she shoved your cock back inside her warm mouth, down to the base in one stroke. She indulged her hunger, sucking you off while tasting herself on your cock, her throat aching to drain everything from you.

You weren’t finished with her yet, left empty by every second that went by without the suffocating grip of her ass. “You want me to keep pounding this tight little asshole?”

Gahyeon hesitated for a moment, too involved with slobbering on your cock before withdrawing her pouty lips. “Want you to cum again. Wanna feel you in my ass again, my little hole hasn’t been stretched enough.”

“Such a slut for this dick, aren’t you?” you asked, while Gahyeon nodded in agreement, shifting to the center of your messy bed sheets, her legs spread wide as she rubbed her cunt, unsatisfied with how much time she had spent empty. Her impatience grew, but you did little but watch, indulging yourself in her divine physique, focused on every movement she made while touching herself.

“Come on, daddy. Shove that big cock back inside my ass.”

You rubbed her thighs, and planted gentle kisses on their pillowy softness while spreading more lube inside her, using it as an excuse to tease her further. “Needy fucking brat.”

“And your needy little brat needs another pounding…”

In one movement, you lifted Gahyeon’s creamy legs into the air, and rested her ankles on your shoulders. No doubt you wouldn’t have much left in the reserves, but just to see the frustration on her face, you stalled while you stroked yourself, teasing her warm little hole with your swollen cockhead.

"Daddy, pleeease—please fuck me," she pleaded, with a drone of whines, your cock nudging against the inviting warmth of her ass. But you still hesitated—not for Gahyeon’s sake, but for yours, and needed a moment to prepare—to prepare for that insane tightness again. With one hand lining up your shaft, the other stroked her beautiful legs, until you were ready to fill her back up again.

You waited for one more whiny plea, one more ‘daddy’ while keeping track of the desperation in her eyes, then impaled your entire shaft into that tiny, unyielding hole. Her back arched right off the bed upon re-entry, and you swore the second time felt like an even tighter squeeze, fitting perfectly inside her. “Shit, Gahyeon—”

That tight hole tempted you into an early climax, but you fought back against those urges, and one stroke at a time, pumped into Gahyeon, groaning at that familiar tightness.

“Daddy, why aren’t you pounding me?” Her lips pouted in her usual manner, but you ignored her and focused on setting the pace, allowing only the head of your cock to disappear inside her asshole as she desperately squeezed you.

“Let me feel it all, daddy. Split me open.”

Regardless of the look on her face, you wouldn’t give in that easily. “Be a good girl and rub your clit for me. Nice and slow.”

You didn't take your eyes off Gahyeon as she obeyed, using her fingers to rub slow, lazy circles against her sensitive swollen clit, and bit her lip at the added stimulation. Her cute whimpers guided your hips and urged you to sink deeper inside her, your strokes quickening as you filled more hard flesh inside that tight hole. Every expression her cute face made became a contortion of lust, and you couldn’t keep yourself from bottoming her out once more, returning back to your animalistic desires.

“Daddy, just like this, you’re so deep, need more…”

Holding back would no longer be an option when the urgency in Gahyeon’s eyes mirrored your own, and you didn’t hesitate to keep your length buried inside her ass, not even giving a chance for her to adjust to your size, pumping against the harsh grip around your cock.

Snatching whatever pleasure she could while Gahyeon kept playing with her clit, you rammed her little asshole without any cares or limits, thrusting with your hips in an erratic rhythm, more and more uncontrolled with every stroke.

“Oh god, daddy, that feels so good. Stretch me with that thick cock, pound my asshole, fuck me hard!” The noises from her lips became borderline unintelligible as your thrusts increased tenfold, hard enough to make her big breasts bounce, and made her fingernails dig into the sheets she squirmed underneath. Her constant moans and whimpers spurred you on as you refused to let your cock stay outside longer than necessary, and held her legs together, hugging them tightly as you began to lose all sense of self-control.

“Fuck, this tight asshole makes my cock feel so fucking good, Gahyeon. Gonna pound you so hard, gonna fuck you like a little slut deserves,” you said as your shaft moved in frenzied, harsh strokes, hitting the right angle, not neglecting a single sweet spot.

Not letting up your pace, you let those luscious legs fall from perched on top of your shoulders, then spread them wide as they could go, giving yourself a better view of your cock spearing her asshole.

At this point, you weren’t so much as fucking Gahyeon anymore, but using her body as just a cocksleeve, a toy, a container for your uncontrollable lust. Through all that lust, you were so lost in the tightness of her ass that any words that exited her mouth sounded miles away, but still heard the faint murmur of pleas. You played with handfuls of her delicious bouncy tits, fingertips trailing up to her collarbone, and then you wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezed with just enough pressure.

“Harder, choke me harder, daddy. Choke your little slut.”

If there were any remnants of control left, Gahyeon relinquished it all when you squeezed her neck harder, and those large eyes spoke more than words ever could. Her asshole tightened more than you could fathom, just like your hand around her throat, and you had no qualms about how rough you were fucking Gahyeon, nor the red marks that would be left displayed on her bare flesh for everyone in the office to see in the morning.

Not that your coworkers didn’t already know how rough you pounded Gahyeon in the various rooms and spaces around the workplace—if only everywhere else had as much soundproofing as your office did.

But nothing would deter you from pounding Gahyeon’s wrecked asshole, when the constant uncontained lust in her eyes began to boil over, long past the point of no return. The pressure built up in her body faster than expected as she frantically worked two fingers deep inside her cunt, and without warning—Gahyeon sprayed your abdomen with a sudden influx of liquid, an orgasm so intense, so overwhelming, that it left her body shaking, desperate for more.

“There you fucking go, Gahyeon. Good girl, cum for me one more time, can you do that?”

Gahyeon could only nod.

“Fuck!” she cried out, and did just that without hesitation, letting out another deluge of squirt from her greedy cunt that coated your lower body in her slick arousal. Her head fell back onto the mattress, quivering thighs spread wide, while you prepared to take your own climax.

“Good little slut.”

“D-daddy, I want your cum too—want it so bad,” Gahyeon said, with pleading eyes, and soon enough she would get it, every last little drop. You doubled down on your pace, and plunged your length into her asshole for as long as you could, savoring the last clenches while pumping into her until your climax was too strong to resist.

All you could withstand were a few more thrusts, so after pulling out of her ass, you spilled hot cum all over her tight stomach, and covered her supple tits with the remainder of your milky load as Gahyeon groaned from below with each thick spurt that fell on her bare, sweaty body.

Equally exhausted, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Gahyeon’s perfect body used as your canvas, staring at her glazed breasts that heaved hypnotically, and her cute, cum-covered tummy that became the perfect target for your load. Lusting for more, she stroked your sensitive cock, almost disappointed when you were milked dry, but kept pumping, desperate to extract one more leftover drop.

“Gahyeon—”

“Yes, daddy?”

You couldn’t find the words you wanted to say, but continued to stare over Gahyeon's body, panting hard while you took in every tiny detail, every droplet of sweat on her pretty, pale skin.

“Wanna go again?” Gahyeon asked, and while you didn’t exactly have much gas left in the tank—you couldn't find a good reason to say no.

"Needy brat."

"I'm your needy brat. Come on, daddy. I know you wanna go again. Press my tits against the glass, get them all wet and soapy for you. You’re still so hard—I know you’d love a nice soapy titfuck,” she said, massaging your balls, teasing them with her fingers like she was trying to get them to fill back up.

Just the thought ensured your erection wouldn’t falter, and well, you couldn’t ever refuse an offer like that. With a grin, you hoisted Gahyeon off the mattress to her feet, legs unsteadily underneath her.

She still had your load painted on her body drenched in sweat when she stood upright, but wore it proudly, just like the grin on her features. “I’ll go get the water running.”

Neither of you would spend that much time getting clean, because you knew the moment you stepped inside the hot shower, Gahyeon’s hands would be all over your body, doing way more than soaping you up. But you were used to that.

Nothing could really ever quench Gahyeon’s bottomless libido, anyway.

#dreamcatcher smut #gahyeon smut #kpop smut #male reader #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #dreamcatcher #gahyeon

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allisluv · 3 months ago

Text

COMING CLEAN

chapter ten - savior complex

pairing: finnick o'dair x fem!oc

content warnings: arguments, mentions of a bruise, flirting, protective finnick, dissociation and not being able to tell what's real or not.

word count: 3.7k

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Bloom's full lips pull into a disapproving line when she sees Dahlia's bruised cheek the next day. She ushers her muse into a chair at the vanity table and sends one of her assistants off to fetch a tray of coffee. Her fingers are cold on Dahlia's face as she pokes and prods, assessing how much work will have to be done.

Bloom clicks her tongue and roots through a makeup bag. "There's certainly damage control to be done," she murmurs under her breath. Dahlia has a feeling she's talking to herself rather than anyone in particular, but she listens nonetheless. "You know, there surely has to be a statute of limitations put into place. They can't ruin your beautiful face like this, I won't allow it! The night before your interview and everything! They know how to choose their timing, I'll tell you that for free."

Dahlia bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying something she will later come to regret. She can't be mad at Bloom, not when she's telling the truth, because in the Capitol, that is all she will ever be; a pretty face, and nothing more.

Bloom strips her of her nightdress and closely inspects her for any more bruises or cuts that may be visible through the skin that her gown won't cover. Once she deems her socially acceptable to the public eye, she throws her into a cold shower and orders her back out within five minutes, so she doesn't even get to enjoy it.

Bloom steers her back towards the vanity chair and sits her down. Finally, her assistant returns with a tray of coffees, one for each of them, and she sips her vanilla latte while pulling make-up products from suitcases and trolleys. Dahlia watches in amusement, gulping down her drink in a record time.

The makeover process is painful, partly because the phrase "beauty is pain," has an element of truth to it, but mainly because Bloom does not stop talking the ear off of Dahlia. She is relieved when she hardly recognises herself in the vanity mirror; at least all of Bloom's hard work counts for something.

Her skin looks better than it did to begin with, and the bruise is invisible under the many layers of concealer. Pouted lips have been glossed over with a ruby red lipstick, big, false lashes weigh down her eyelids, and highlighter defines her high cheekbones. Her hair has been swept up into a half-up half-down hairstyle, and Bloom has went an extra mile and bought a diamond tiara to sit atop her head.

Finally, Bloom disappears into the hallway and comes back, dragging a clothing rack behind her. Hanging from the rack is a black and gold ballgown that just might be the greatest thing she has set eyes on in her entire life.

For the first time in her life, Dahlia Holloway is left truly and utterly speechless. The lump in her throat borders on painful when she speaks. "Bloom, I don't know what to say."

Her stylist cocks a hip and presses a flat palm over her heart. "You don't have to say anything; I know I'm a genius."

Dahlia laughs, tipping her head back to stop the fresh tears from spilling over her waterline and ruining her mascara. Bloom is thankfully too busy yanking the dress off the rack to scold her for letting her emotions get the better of her. Once the dress is splayed out on the bed, Bloom opens the door and hollers for her prep team, who scurry into the room and wait for instructions.

It takes a while, but eventually, Dahlia's stylist and her three assistants manage to stuff her into the gown. She crams her feet into a pair of gold stilettos and, with the help of Bloom, heads out of the bedroom and into the living area, where Juniper, Wyatt and Malaki sip steaming hot mugs of something warm.

Malaki sets his cup of tea on the saucer and stands from the velvet armchair, beaming from ear to ear. "You look out of this world, my darling." He air-kisses Dahlia's cheek and rubs his thumb in circular, soothing motions over the skin on her shoulder. "Are you ready to go? June and I will follow along and we'll meet you in the crowd."

Dahlia nods and struggles forward in her high heels, taking tiny steps until she gets used to the pinching pain at her heels. She slumps back against the elevator wall as Wyatt pushes the button for the ground floor.

As they arrive in the lobby, she's temporarily blinded by the cameras flashing from outside. Her palms are slick with sweat and she's glad when Wyatt loops his arm through her own instead of holding her hand.

Dahlia's senses are almost immediately under attack once she's outside. The sun is beginning to set, casting shadows around the place, and the crowd are screaming so loudly that she wonders if her eardrums will burst from the sheer force of it.

It's almost too much, and she wants nothing more than to retreat back into her head, away from the noise and the people and the obligations, but Wyatt is pulling her back to the real world with his fingers splayed across her arm. He steers her in the direction of their private car and once she is safely settled inside with him sitting next to her, he asks, "Are you okay?"

Dahlia nods, unable to form the words, and she's grateful that he doesn't push her. The traffic is backed up all the way from the victor's suites to the communications centre. It takes them a full twenty minutes to arrive, and when they do, they're swamped with people who are begging for their autographs or a piece of their clothing.

Peacekeepers have to wrestle a man to the ground when he tries to grab Dahlia's dress, and they beat him with their batons. She tries to intervene and almost ends up with a bloody nose for her troubles. Wyatt whisks her away from the scene, reminding her under his breath that she has Ivy and River to think about.

People backstage are running around like headless chickens, and Dahlia almost gets swept clean off her feet by an Avox. She's preparing herself for impact when someone catches her elbow. The smell of sea salt follows and she knows who it is before even looking up.

Finnick smirks as she smooths out the creases in her ballgown. "You took the phrase, "falling for someone" quite literally, huh? If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was tell me, honey." Dahlia scowls but keeps her mouth firmly shut. "What? Cat got your tongue?"

As if God himself can sense her begging for an escape, Juniper comes barrelling around corners. Dahlia can tell something's wrong the second June slows to a stop, eyes wide and afraid as she clutches the stitch in her side. Dahlia pushes Finnick aside with her hip and grabs Juniper by the shoulders. "Breathe, June. Tell me what's wrong."

Juniper's chest heaves for breath as her hands flap wildly by her sides. "I hate this dress! It's too tight. These shoes are pinching me and I— I hate wearing my hair up! These stupid clips keep on digging into my scalp!"

"Okay," Dahlia soothes, tone firm but gentle as she spins Juniper around and starts untangling her blonde hair from the bobby pins.

It's a lengthy process, but the tension from Juniper's shoulders starts to dissipate as she begins to self-regulate.

"Sorry," she mutters, ducking her head to hide the colour in her cheeks. She can feel Finnick watching her out of the corner of his eye, and even though his gaze is more curious than anything, it still makes her feel embarrassed for her outburst.

Dahlia clicks her tongue. "Don't be silly. You have nothing to be sorry for. Is that any better or do we need to get Bloom to work her magic?"

"That's better," Juniper admits, rocking on the balls of her feet. "Sorry for interrupting," she says, gesturing between Finnick and Dahlia before scurrying away again.

A fond smile tugs at the corners of Finnick's lips. He breaks the silence by asking Dahlia, "She got any family?" She shakes her head no. "In that case, it's a good thing she's got you to lean on. You have some great patience with her. She seems to like you."

"June likes everyone," Dahlia scoffs, but there's no bite behind it.

She's about to tell Finnick that Juniper won't have her to lean on for much longer when Caesar Flickerman shoots her a wink as he passes by. She scowls at his back as he walks onto the stage, his presence welcomed by applause that seems to stretch on for minutes.

Defeated, Dahlia slumps back against a wall and folds her arms over her chest. She watches as Cashmere from District One struts onstage, leaving the remaining twenty-three victors to wait in the wings. "Like lambs to the slaughter."

Finnick chuckles dryly. "I know." He's trying (and failing) to discreetly watch Peeta from across the room, and as if he can sense a pair of eyes on him, the boy turns. Peeta excuses himself from a conversation with Wiress and Beetee from Three and heads straight for them. "Uh-oh."

Dahlia's gaze snaps away from her cuticles and hones in on Finnick's face. "What?"

"Looks like we have company," Finnick mutters, straightening out his spine and pushing back his shoulders. "Hello."

Peeta's grin is lopsided. "Hi." He pins his gaze on Dahlia. "You look nice."

Dahlia raises a brow, eyes raking over Peeta's frame. Although his white suit should be two sizes too big for a boy his age, he somehow fills it quite well. "You don't look so bad yourself." She has to choke back a laugh when Finnick scoffs from beside her. Blanking Peeta completely, she turns to Finnick and says, "Rein it in, lover boy. He's a minor and I'm not a predator."

"Plus you're the Finnick O'Dair," Peeta adds. "I'm not much in way of competition."

Finnick seems to weigh up the merit of what they're saying and, after a very dramatized sigh, he relents. "You've got a point, I suppose," he concedes, jutting out his chin. "You didn't come over here to tell us we look nice, so, come on, out with it."

"Well, first off, I never said you looked nice," Peeta smirks. Finnick opens his mouth to argue but he cuts him off before he can get a word in. "And I just came over to wish you both luck tonight."

Dahlia whacks Finnick in the arm when he scoffs. "Stop being a man-child," she scolds, and he shuts up fairly quickly after that. "That was nice of you," she smiles, eyes drifting to Beetee from Two as he takes his place on stage. "We should probably start running through lines."

Peeta is able to take a hint. He kisses Dahlia on the cheek and hobbles away before she can see his flaming red cheeks.

"Remind me why we have to be their allies again?" Finnick snaps, glaring daggers into the back of Peeta's head.

Dahlia's lips quirk upwards and she drops her voice an octave. "Careful. If you keep talking like that, I'll start to think you're beginning to like me."

Finnick smirks and leans down to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. "And so what if I am? Would that really be such a bad thing?" She busies herself with smoothing out the non-existent creases in her ballgown and he pulls away, cocking his head to one side. "I think the real issue is that you're starting to like me. You wanna know what I think?"

"Not particularly."

"I think that scares you."

Dahlia scoffs, folding her arms over her chest, creating an invisible barrier between them. "I am not scared. And I am not your friend, Finnick. We are not friends. Stop pretending like you care."

"Who said I was pretending?" Finnick retorts. "You know, not everyone's got an ulterior motive, honey. You're a pretty likeable person."

Dahlia feels her blood boil. She hates liars. More importantly, she hates the part of her that fears Finnick is telling the truth. She cradles her head in her hands, trying to stop herself from slipping away into that other world again. "Stop, Finn. You're confusing me."

She squeezes her eyes closed and places one hand over her stomach in an effort to regulate her breathing. Finnick frowns, brows knitting together as she lowers herself to the floor. He mirrors her movements and kneels by her side. "Dahlia. Talk to me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"It doesn't matter. It's not real," Dahlia mutters, pulling her knees up to her chest and very nearly popping a button on her black corset in the process.

Finnick's eyes soften. "What do you mean?"

"It's not real, is it?"

"Honey, I don't understand what you're talking about."

Dahlia sighs and straightens up, but refuses to look at his face. "None of this is real. It's just a dream."

Finnick crouches in front of her and coaxes her to look him in the eye. "This is real. You're not in a dream. I swear this is real, honey. Look, I'll prove it to you." With careful movements, he laces their fingers together and presses their joined hands over his heart. His skin is warm through the material of his shirt. "See? Can you feel my heart beating? This is real."

A crease appears between Dahlia's brows before she shakes her head. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Why would I lie?" He asks, challenging her belief system.

"I— I don't know, actually."

Finnick sits cross-legged on the floor in front of her. She doesn't make any indication that she's going to let go of his hand, and he doesn't want her to. "How about I make you a promise?"

"What kind of a promise?"

"I promise to always tell you the truth about whether or not this is real. But in return, you need to make me a promise." Dahlia purses her lips. "You have to promise to always ask me if you cant tell if something is real. 'Cause if I don't know, I can't help. Deal?"

Dahlia's attention drifts to Mags taking her place on the stage. Her interpreter, a man with bright blue hair, follows closely behind her. Finnick calls her name and she faces him once more. "Fuck it. You've got yourself a deal." He smiles. "You should do that more often," she blurts out.

"Do what?"

"Smile."

"I always smile!" Finnick argues.

"No. You smirk. You don't smile. Not like that, anyway." His cheeks turn pink and she clears her throat to get rid of the crawling sensation under her skin. She's not used to being this open with someone. He was right about one thing; it does scare her. "C'mon. You're on in two minutes."

Finnick helps Dahlia to her feet, and the other tributes watch them like animals in a zoo as they walk towards the wings of the stage. He lets go of her hand and kisses her cheek when his name is called, and Dahlia can't help but wonder why his touch is the only one that doesn't burn.

The crowd shriek and scream at Finnick's presence and Caesar Flickerman waits for the noise to die down before saying, "Well, well, that was a warm welcome! I must say, Finnick, your outfit is dashing. Was Ms. Holloway able to keep her hands to herself when she saw you?"

Finnick refuses to bite the bait and brushes the comment off with a laugh. "I should think you've got a higher opinion of my girlfriend than that, Caesar." His voice has an edge to it, but the crowd hone in on the word girlfriend and all else is forgotten.

Caesar chuckles light-heartedly. "Absolutely, Finnick. In fact, I understand you have a message for Dahlia that you wish to share with us. Isn't that right?"

Finnick smiles sweetly and makes eye contact with the camera straight ahead. "Honey, you have my heart for all eternity, and if I die in that arena, it'll be protecting you."

Dahlia feels her heart flutter, and she has to remind herself that Finnick is merely going through the motions. At the end of the day, he's playing a part, and they are not friends. They are simply doing what they have to to survive in this world.

And Dahlia doesn't know why the truth leaves her with a bitter taste in her mouth.

˚＊✿❀༓❀✿＊˚

Things run smoothly through Districts Five and Six. Johanna causes a scene when it's her turn to take the stage, and she doesn't calm down completely until Wyatt's interview, where everyone's interest is peaked.

Wyatt hadn't divulged what angle he was going to take to anybody, not even Juniper. He had just said that he had a plan and left it at that. So, when he tells the audience that he does not plan on making it out of that arena, most people are left stunned into silence, including his fellow victors in the wings.

Caesar laughs awkwardly and the crowd mumble amongst one another. "Are you telling me that you aren't even going to fight to get back home to your family?"

"Everyone I love is dead, Caesar. My wife, my daughter. The two people I care about most on this planet are dead. So, no, I don't plan on putting up a fight, because, frankly, I'm tired of living in a world where they don't exist."

It's so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Wyatt shakes Caesar's hand and crosses the stage in quick strides. Caesar announces that they're going to commercial. Wyatt descends the stairs and hasn't even made it into the wings when Dahlia shoves him. He stumbles, and Johanna stops him from falling flat on his face.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Wyatt? You've just marked yourself as an easy target!" Finnick places a hand on Dahlia's shoulder, but she pushes him off of her. "Stay out of this, Finn! It's got nothing to do with you!"

"This is about you." She points a finger in Wyatt's direction. "I have spent years working my ass off to keep you alive and you're what, going to throw it all down the drain? You're not even going to try to stay alive, which means I'm going to have to pick up the slack and keep you alive as well as myself! I can not believe how selfish you're being!"

"I never asked you to keep me alive!" Wyatt seethes. "Dahlia, it is not my fault you have a saviour complex! You don't know the pain I live in every day without them!"

Dahlia knows it's a low blow, but she's too blinded with anger to care. "You think I don't want to die every day? You are not the first person to lose someone."

"You have no idea what loss is!"

"Break it up!" Malaki barks, stepping between the two of them before it can come to blows. (And trust him, it will). "Wyatt, take a walk. Dahlia, pull it together. You have to be on stage in less than a minute."

Dahlia tilts her head back to stop her mascara from running. She can hear the side door banging shut, courtesy of her district partner, and she scoffs, trailing her tongue over her teeth.

"Don't even say anything," Malaki warns. "You owe him an apology just as much as he owes you one. You're both at fault. Now, hold your tongue for two minutes and get on stage or I'm going to get Bloom."

Dahlia clenches her jaw and shakes the tension out of her hands before stepping onto the stage. The lights are warm and bright as they track her every movement. She slows to a stop in front of Caesar, who kisses her hand and says, "Welcome, Ms. Holloway. What a pleasure it is to have you here with us tonight!"

Dahlia's blood is still boiling with fury, but she forces herself to smile, anyway. She can't afford to fuck this up and have the consequences rebound on River and Ivy. She doesn't have that luxury, unfortunately. "Hello, Caesar."

"I have to say, Bloom is constantly outdoing herself with these ball-gowns. Finnick is one lucky man."

"Well, you said it, Caesar, not me!" She grins as the crowd howls with laughter. "I'm only teasing. I'm a very lucky woman, if I do say so myself."

Caesar leans forward and she can smell the minty gum he must have been chewing backstage. It takes everything in her to not recoil away from him when he puts a hand on her shoulder. "Now, do tell us, Dahlia, how does it feel to go into the arena with your lover, despite knowing that only one of you can make it out alive?"

Dahlia swallows the lump in her throat. "It's not easy, I can tell you that much for free." Caesar nods empathetically. "I just-- as awful as it sounds, I hope I die before he does. I don't think I can live without him." She dabs at imaginary tears and the crowd murmur their sympathy.

Caesar reiterates most of the same questions he asked Finnick, and Dahlia leaves the stage with a drag in her step, one singular thought ricocheting around in her head.

How the hell is she meant to keep Wyatt safe in that damn arena?

#grace talks🐚🌷#the hunger games #thgs #thg #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #fluff #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair x fem!oc #fem!oc #dahlia holloway #coming clean wp

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justwritedreams · 1 year ago

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Welcome To The Kingdom | Jeno

Chapter Ten: Little Games

Prince Jeno x Princess Reader, enemies to lovers au!, royalty au!

Word count: 4670 Genre: drama, fake relationship Author: maari Warnings: Reader being jealous, the never ending slow burn, both of them being a total menace lol Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! I was committed to posting this chapter yesterday as a gift for you but I needed to celebrate with my family too, so without further ado here we are starting the year 2024 with a new chapter. Summary: The little games started in the kingdom and are far from over.

<<<Previous | Masterlist |

⪢ NCT Masterlist

Taglist: @floweronacloud, @cookydream, @travelleratheart101, @ilvaussie, @tyongf-sunflower99, @mings-cafe, @n0hyuck, @waltermitty97, @jihoonismydad, @madaboutjunmyeon, @actually-vl , @neomooniez, @pvppyhao, @ikayyyyyy (can’t tag you honey 😞)

“Your Highnesses.”

Y/N turned back and smiled restrainedly at the royal advisor, Linda had worked at the castle for many years and the best parties were organized by her.

It was one of the reasons for the princess to be there, in the King's office, to talk about the details of the wedding.

She and Jeno. Talking about their wedding.

It didn't feel real yet.

After breakfast, which was as pleasant as possible, the king explained that he would speak to parliament and the press on the same day, to ensure that the attack wouldn’t go unpunished, the atmosphere became more tense.

Although Y/N had suggested that she go along with her father, he denied it. This was a matter that would take up a lot of the princess's time and she would have to decide the details of the upcoming wedding.

“Linda, great to see you again!” Y/N spoke after the woman bowed to the two. “This is Prince Jeno.”

Linda lowered her head again to greet him and he smiled politely.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” she said. “Although I already knew a little about your highness.”

Jeno raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, really? I wonder why.” He glanced at Y/N who pretended not to take the hint.

“Let’s sit down, we have a lot to talk about.” Y/N pointed to the couch and the three of them went.

Jeno sat a little closer to Y/N than he should have and that didn't go unnoticed, Linda smiled discreetly while the princess tried to keep her expression calm.

Although she wanted to move away because the heat of Jeno's leg touching hers was leaving a weird tingling sensation in her stomach.

“I put together some ideas for the ceremony and reception.” Linda handed the folder she carried to the two of them.

Jeno held on, it was incredibly heavy, and turned his torso a little more towards Y/N, getting slightly closer.

She took a deep breath before focusing her attention on the photos.

The parties that Linda had chosen were of different themes, one was completely royal that would have some traditions but was more modern than the last weddings in Y/N's family, another seemed to have a slightly more Greek theme and the last one a little more vintage.

The princess and Jeno observed the photos carefully, all the themes were incredible and the references that Linda had selected made the task of choosing much more difficult.

“What about our clothes?” Jeno asked, after they went through at least half of the photos.

“Well, I left it free for you to choose. We have a few designers who have offered to work for your highnesses' wedding, including Zuhair Murad.”

The princess looked at Linda, surprised.

“Zuhair Murad? That Zuhair Murad?”

Jeno looked at the princess, seeing her eyes shine.

“Yes, your highness.”

Y/N blinked a few times, perplexed. She admired Zuhair Murad's work and loved his dresses, but she never imagined he would be interested in making her wedding dress.

“Would your highnesses like to make any requests for the costumes?” Linda held up her tablet, ready to take notes.

“I can’t know which dress Y/N will choose?” Jeno raised his eyebrow as he looked at Linda, who laughed discreetly as Y/N crossed her arms.

“No, your highness.”

"I have a request." The princess spoke, looking at Jeno. “May his tuxedo have a decent shirt that covers his neck.”

Linda swallowed a laugh while Jeno looked at the princess almost offended, because part of him was even finding it funny.

“Honey, you don’t need to show your jealousy in front of people, soon I’ll be yours anyway.” He winked at her and smirked, amused to see her falter.

Y/N didn't respond right away, she just continued staring at him and then smiled evilly.

He wanted to play, right?

Well, she would have two dresses to get revenge on Jeno.

“You’re right, my love.” This time, it wasn't irony that Jeno found in Y/N's tone, but something he didn't expect, competitiveness.

The princess went back to talking to Linda about the designers and how they would get in touch with them to see the models of the dresses, while Jeno was busy looking at the photos of the buffet that would be hired even though his head was thinking about what Y/N was up to with all that.

She didn't roll her eyes or pinch him without Linda seeing, that was strange.

He was expecting some kind of retaliation and got absolutely nothing.

After everything was agreed with Linda, she left the room and left the two alone, Y/N got up and went to the large window hugging her body while Jeno looked at her curiously.

Y/N took a deep breath and faced the landscape outside, she had only been away from home for a short time but had missed practically everything in her kingdom, in her home.

“You seem happy.” Jeno commented and followed the same path as the princess, stopping next to her to observe what she was looking at.

He was getting used to that kingdom.

Y/N smiled discreetly.

"And I am." he sighed. “You know what it feels like to finally come home.”

Jeno agreed and put his hands in his pants pockets.

“Then why does your voice sound worried?” He asked, curious and that made her look at him in surprise.

Y/N debated whether or not to speak to him, but remembering that Jeno would be her ally from now on made her choose positively.

“So much going on and the two of us here, having to see the details of the wedding.” the princess passed her hand over her face. “It seems kind of… selfish.”

She shrugged, she hadn't gotten the attack out of her head since she had seen it on the news and being there, without being able to do anything useful made her feel… incapable.

"Hey." Jeno brought his palm to touch her shoulder very gently, almost imperceptibly. “It’s not selfish. It’s something that needs to be done, princess.”

“But while people are grieving for their injured loved ones in hospitals? How can this be acceptable?” she questioned, focusing her gaze on a fixed point outside.

“Princess, look at me.” Jeno didn't get a response so he brought his hand to her chin, making her lift her face to look at him. “Y/N.”

She couldn't look away from Jeno, even though in her mind she felt like she had to so as not to get lost in his serene eyes.

And she felt a very slight shiver on the back of her neck when she heard her own name.

“The people of this kingdom deserve a reason to celebrate.”

“Do you think they want to raise the flag on our coat of arms?!”

“That’s not what I mean.” he spoke firmly and she frowned. “I’m talking about our alliance, they will have reason to see security in our union.”

Y/N was surprised by Jeno's sincerity and she herself believed those words, which is why she smiled sideways. Jeno mirrored her reaction and neither of them moved an inch.

They stayed there, looking at each other complicitly until Jeno's eyes went down the princess's face and looked at her mouth.

Y/N swallowed hard and suddenly her lips seemed to have lost all their hydration when Jeno's eyes fixed them, but she did the same.

She stared at the prince's full, pink lips that seemed too inviting for her lucidity.

Y/N stood still without knowing what to say or do, and Jeno interpreted that as a positive response, if it had been negative he would have certainly already been slapped in the face, and he got close enough so that their breaths were closer and he took hand up to Y/N's cheek.

He just needed to get a little closer, she was there and didn't look like she was going to back down.

He was so close that he could smell her perfume…

The door being suddenly opened made them both jump back and move away, Y/N blinked a few times and almost thanked the odds.

If she hadn't seen the maid at the party there with a fake look of shock.

It was enough for her to frown.

“A thousand pardons, your highnesses, I didn’t know you were here.” she bowed before hurriedly leaving the room as quickly as she entered.

Y/N faced the closed door and felt a bitter taste in her mouth as well as her blood bubbling.

She wouldn't be a shrew queen, but she would have to deal with that insolent maid if she wanted to keep her truce with her fiancé.

Worse, if she wanted to maintain the stability of her reign.

[...]

"Mom?"

The queen raised her head when she heard the princess's voice echo through the office and frowned when she saw her there.

"Yes, my dear?" she put down her pen, giving her daughter her full attention.

"Are you busy? I would like to talk with you."

The queen moved her hand, indicating for her to enter and she did so.

“You can come in, I was signing some things about our financial aid for the victims of the attack.”

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling her heart sink and sat down in front of her mother.

“I saw the statement.” she smiled restrainedly.

The king and queen had announced that they would help the victims in every way, with medical and psychological help, as well as their families while investigations were still ongoing. It was the least they could do to alleviate the suffering of their people.

“We had to do it.” she explained and faced her daughter, interlacing her fingers on the table. “But I don’t think that’s what you want to talk to me about.”

Y/N nodded.

“Well, since I know you hate beating around the bush, I’ll be direct. What should I do when a maid can bring trouble to my alliance with Jeno?”

The queen raised her eyebrows, partly shocked to hear that even though it had already been predicted.

"What kind of problem?"

The princess measured her words, she would be honest with her mother but not rudely. She wasn't talking to Yeri, she needed to act like the princess she had been taught to be.

And that's why she went to her mother, she wanted to have a more rational opinion.

“You know I don’t love Jeno the way you love my father.” she remembered and saw the queen reluctant to agree. “And you also know about Jeno’s fame before Prince Romeo’s image, and let’s just say that this maid is an old fling of his.”

The queen understood her daughter's words well and smiled discreetly.

"Of course. What do you think should be done in this type of case?”

“Considering that we have to pretend even to the employees that we are in love with each other, her presence here poses a threat.” she concluded.

“Yes, and threats we eliminate.”

“I just don’t think it’s fair to fire her for sleeping with him.” the princess shrugged, feeling her head spin.

She was fed up with that maid and fed up with that subject.

“Do you know what makes a really good royal maid?” The princess shook her head. "Discretion. Trust. If one of our employees doesn't deliver on either of these two things, then our reign could fall apart.”

“Consequently the kingdom too.” Y/N concluded.

“There are two options, my dear, you fire the girl and run the risk of having a former employee spreading our secrets around or you can strengthen a bond that will be great for both parties.”

Y/N frowned.

"What do you mean by that?"

“Find out what she really wants and make it easier for her to get it.”

She narrowed her eyes, understanding the same line of reasoning as her mother.

“Don’t just give it to her as a deal.”

Her mother shook her head.

“Deals don’t work in situations like this, there will always be blackmail. Show that you have a faster way.”

The princess nodded and an idea emerged.

"You're right." She got up from her chair. “I will resolve this as soon as possible. Thank you, mom.”

Y/N prepared to leave, but her mother called out to her as soon as she opened the door.

"Yes?" she turned around after hearing her name.

“Be careful, maybe you're burying something you don't want to see but it's right in front of you.”

Y/N was confused and stared at her mother, waiting for her to continue but she didn't say anything else, making the princess agree and leave trying to figure out what her mother had said.

But her head didn't focus on that for now, she went to the kitchen where she knew most of the maids were and one in particular wanted to talk.

It wasn't so rare to see Y/N in the kitchen, she had her father's altruistic spirit and didn't follow the house rules about not going to the employees' quarters or the places where they worked, she liked seeing them and especially talking to them. It made her come out of her royal bubble.

However, it was still funny to see the employees stop in shock to bow.

“Your Highness!”

“Nana!”

"Something happened? Need something?"

Y/N smiled slightly at the housekeeper.

"No, it’s alright. Please get back to work, I’m just taking a walk around the castle.”

Nana gave the signal for the employees to return to their duties and the princess had to control herself not to roll her eyes at a specific employee.

“Nana.” Y/N approached and the housekeeper continued listening, attentively. "Can I talk to you?"

“Of course, your highness!”

The princess walked ahead, heading towards the back garden and stopped near the fountain, far away so no one could hear.

“I want to know a little more about the younger maids.” she spoke directly. “They recently came to the castle and I couldn’t pay attention to the details before.”

“Because of your training.”

Y/N nodded. At the same time that new maids entered the castle, the princess was busy with royal tasks.

Studying whatever she could, from geopolitics to the art of using a bow and arrow, she was being prepared to be the queen she was born to be, smaller details like maids were up to her mother.

“What would you like to know, your highness?”

"Everything." she spoke firmly and paid attention to Nana.

The princess heard everything, knew the names of the maids but was still confused about their roles.

And well, apparently the maid in question she wanted to know helped with everything she could or was assigned. From what she heard, she realized that the girl worked harder than she should and knew exactly what to do the moment she heard that she was a little more ambitious than the rest.

It was exactly what she wanted to hear and needed to know. It was enough.

She talked to Nana some more, really interested in getting to know her employees a little more and when she had heard enough, Nana was called and she walked away from the princess bowing.

Y/N took a deep breath, she already knew when she would act and how, she just needed to make a phone call and went back inside the castle in search of her phone.

She would resolve this situation as quickly as she could. She didn’t have time to waste.

She passed by the east side of the castle and would have passed by a room she knew well if it weren't for the reflection she saw in the mirror, she stopped where she was and slowly approached the gym door.

Jeno was preparing to do a series of weightlifting while breathing heavily, his black tank top was clinging as well as his slightly wet hair that fell across his forehead.

Well, of course Y/N's intention wasn’t to stay there and watch Jeno training but when his arms started to move, leaving his exposed biceps, it was a difficult task to move away.

Even because Y/N's jaw dropped because practically accidentally eating his body with her eyes that her brain wasn't working properly.

And when he dropped the weights on the floor and groaned loudly, her legs wobbled.

"My God." Y/N didn't even control her voice, which came out louder than it should have.

Jeno searched the room for the sound with his eyes and Y/N tried to hide before his eyes met hers, uselessly.

Because Jeno not only found her, he spoke to her.

“Princess, to what do I owe the honor?” she closed her eyes to take a deep breath and she could feel his small smile as he spoke.

Y/N turned completely to face him and smiled politely, forcing her eyes to look at his face and not his arms.

“I was just passing by to see if the gym was free but since it wasn’t, I’ll come back later.” she lied and heard him laugh.

"Wait a second." he said, approaching where the princess was. “With a gym this size, I think we can share the space, right?”

Y/N pondered, he was right.

“Unless you will get distracted so easily with me here.”

Jeno crossed his arms, making even bigger and she looked at him boredly, swallowing hard.

She needed to control herself, she wouldn't be tempted to look at his arms. Again.

"You're so funny." she replied sarcastically.

"And you like." he winked.

Y/N snorted.

“I’m leaving before I throw that steel bar in your face.” she replied ironically and Jeno laughed.

“Always running away.” he spoke quietly as soon as the princess turned her back and went back to redo his series.

Y/N clenched her fists and made to turn around to answer him but a more evil idea crossed her mind and she couldn't even hold back the malicious smile.

The princess then projected her torso forward, pretending to pick up something from the floor, leaving her butt exposed thanks to the skirt she wore so Jeno could have a free view.

She heard a crash in the gym and stood completely upright again, looking over her shoulder as Jeno was cursing and holding his foot that had been hit by a weight he had dropped.

"Shit." he complained, jumping up and down as the princess's smile grew.

“Oops.” she spoke with false naivety and left there shaking her booty more than she should have.

How good it felt to have Jeno's jaw dropped.

[...]

“Yes, your majesty.” Nana bowed before leaving the living room in search of what the queen had ordered.

Y/N couldn't hide the small smile of victory that appeared.

“My daughter, why do I have the feeling that this is connected to you?”

The queen then turned to face her daughter, it wasn't like she needed an answer because it was obvious.

"With me?" the princess pointed to herself, feigning surprise. “Now, mother, this is not the first time we have appointed people to perform services for other nobles in our neighboring countries.”

The queen raised an eyebrow.

“I know, and suddenly the Kim family needed maids so much?”

Y/N shrugged.

“Everyone knows that we have a lot of younger employees and in all honesty, the salary they pay is much better than ours.”

“Of course, because not everyone likes working in the winter for 10 months of the year.”

Y/N nodded.

The Kim family, from the northern kingdom, had requested some recommendations for employees as, due to the kingdom being extremely cold practically all year round, they were in short supply. And the princess had kindly offered some of her maids.

She informed the queen who asked Nana to gather the younger ones to find out who would accept the sudden change.

Something very normal between the kingdoms.

But of course, the princess had helped a little by making the process much faster than usual.

And there she was, behind her mother waiting for the maids to arrive to find out who would accept the proposal.

As soon as the girls arrived, accompanied by Nana, the queen began to explain.

“Prince Doyoung of the North Kim family will soon get married and will need more staff in his castle, he kindly asked for trustworthy people who work well and I would like to inform you that you have been selected to make the decision whether you want to go to there or continue here.”

Y/N saw the insolent maid's eyes light up at every detail the queen reported about the partnership between the kingdoms and could see that everything she had heard from her was true.

But she was sure that her plan worked when Nana distributed the papers with the description of the service and values to the maids.

The queen was giving those girls the choice and all the princess saw was that at least whoever she wanted had already accepted before even seeing the prices.

Three of the girls raised their hands to indicate that they accepted, including the one Y/N wanted. She didn't look arrogantly at the maid, she had rather liked the news and was more relieved, but she wasn't going to show the joy she was feeling in knowing that she was leaving today.

“Nana, do you know where Jeno is?” Y/N asked after all the girls were dismissed.

“I saw him in the library, your highness.”

"Thank you!" She smiled gratefully and Nana left, Y/N looked at her mother. “I have to sort out some wedding details.”

“Y/N.”

"Yes?" She stopped where she was.

“Did you happen to suspect something else?” she questioned, curious.

Y/N frowned and shook her head.

If the queen was referring to the fact that they had a spy in the castle, that was the last thing on the princess's mind.

It seemed childish and selfish, but all of this had been done to preserve the love story that had been sold between her and Jeno, nothing more.

“Even if it were, it’s better to nip the problem in the bud.” the princess said before leaving.

Y/N went to the library and even though she tried to be discreet, the huge door let Jeno know she was there as soon as she opened it.

"Princess?" he blinked more than once, to make sure it wasn't a mirage.

"I need to talk to you." she said, closing the door behind her and standing still, far away from Jeno, so that his perfume wouldn't permeate her nose, considering that he seemed to have taken a shower after training.

"Okay." He moved the book away from his lap, placing it next to him on the sofa and looked closely at her.

“We will have changes in employees.” she explained, seeing him looking completely confused.

“And what exactly is important to me?” he questioned and made a pout, which Y/N felt like undoing it.

With her own lips.

She took a deep breath before responding.

“It means that the next time you want to make out with someone in the castle corridors, please be discreet.” she concluded, with a lot of sarcasm in her voice.

This seemed to amuse Jeno, who, in addition to smiling, got up from where he was sitting and crossed his arms.

“Thank you, I am very honored by this.”

The princess raised her eyebrows.

“You would know anyway, we will have selections for replacements.” she shrugged and turned her body partially so she could leave.

However, she was interrupted by Jeno's voice.

“That’s not what I was talking about.” he started walking towards her. “I’m referring to the fact that I caught a note of jealousy in your voice.” The princess's jaw dropped, almost as if she was offended by the discovery, and Jeno didn't stop walking towards her.

In fact, he only stopped because Y/N stopped him, placing her hand on his chest and forcing him to stop before he touched her.

“The day I feel jealous of you…” she began speaking, her voice slightly weak but she could barely finish as Jeno brought his face closer to hers, even though her hand was blocking the contact between their bodies.

He stopped inches away from her, staring into her eyes with an intensity that made Y/N's legs tremble.

“That day has already come and I don’t think it was today.” he teased.

Y/N's chest rose and fell unevenly from heavy breathing, as if she had run a marathon, but in reality all she could do was stare at Jeno as if she wanted to kill him and kiss him at the same time.

“You are very cocky.” she spat out the words, hating herself for not being able to deny it.

“And you’re really cute when you’re angry.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and in one quick movement, Jeno grabbed her by the waist and crossed the gap between them, and then pressed her against the first wall he saw.

The princess could only react with a surprised whisper. Jeno's body was hard, hot and extremely inviting, that wouldn't be good for her sanity.

“How about we play fair around here, princess.” He tilted his head to the side and his breath hit her neck, Y/N squeezed the t-shirt he was wearing with the little strength she still had left in a situation like that.

Being pressed against the wall by him was something from her darkest and most naughty dreams, she didn't know how to react to that in real life.

“If you think I'm going to beg you to kiss me, you can give up. Make out with all the maids in the castle and this won’t happen.” denial was always the only way out she found.

He raised an eyebrow defiantly.

“I think you still don’t understand.” he spoke low, sexy, making the princess swallow hard. Mainly because Jeno brought his face closer to hers and touched their noses. “The only person I will kiss in this castle will be you.”

Y/N didn't have the courage, much less the strength, to respond, he was so close that she felt a slight tickle as he spoke, their lips almost touching.

For a brief moment, she considered giving in, it was true. Jeno was there, ready to end that torture once and for all and the scenes of the intense dreams she had with him were haunting her mind at that most opportune moment.

It seemed to be the answer her body needed but was in constant struggle with her reason.

However, not straying from that unsustainable script, knocks on the door echoed throughout the room and with all the strength she still had left, the princess pushed Jeno away, breathing heavily.

He walked away, clearly unwillingly.

“Honey, your dad arrived. Please get ready for dinner.” She heard her mother's voice and blinked countless times to return to reality.

"All right mother." she replied loud enough for her mother to hear but her voice was shaky.

Y/N stared at Jeno without knowing what to do as she heard her mother's footsteps move away, she wet her dry lips with her own tongue and put her hand to the back of her head, scratching the area.

Jeno ran his hand through his dark hair as he returned the look, a look of someone who didn't know what had happened there but he didn't want it to be interrupted.

Without saying a single word, Y/N left the room feeling Jeno's eyes watching her as her head spun.

Now she knew that it would be practically impossible to win the bet.

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